"Yes, he does. Actually, I need you to keep another secret. Can you?"
He nods "yes" emphatically; thrilled to know anything that has to do with his big brother.
"He gave me something to give to you." I pull the glove out of my bag.
I remembered to pack it this morning after Jose stopped by. Before we left the Inn, Rosa pulled it out of the top of my bag and slipped her hand inside. The glove has technology that responds to human flesh. When Rosa put her hand in, it tightened around her hand and filled in the rest of the fingers it thought she was missing because her hands are so tiny. She made a nervous little squeak and pulled it off quickly. Now, handing it to Thomas, he looks just as uncomfortable with it.
"I don't want that."
I hold it out to him, but he doesn't reach to take it.
"Matt thought it would help you use your right hand again," I say with fake encouragement.
To be honest, I don't much like the thing either. I feel nervous holding it out to him, knowing Jose or Ellen could walk in at any moment to say they are leaving. I tuck it back into my bag.
"You can just think about it while you get better. Matt doesn't understand how we are different. I understand why you don't want it; it's their thing. But you might decide it's useful someday."
"Do you think Matt will decide to follow God?" he asks with concern lining his young face.
"I really hope so." I answer with full sincerity. "I want him to be healed as much as you do."
"You like him, huh?" Thomas asks, a little disappointed.
I don't know what to say. I know Thomas has the whole “puppy love” thing going on.
"I like him almost as much as I like you," I say, rubbing my hand over his shaved head again.
Thomas’ smile spreads over his face again. He whispers, "I tried to tell Matt about God when we were together, but right when he started to listen and ask me about it is when we got attacked."
Matt has never told me about what happened after he left here with Thomas. He doesn't like to talk much about serious things. Especially serious things that make him feel feelings he doesn't want to feel.
Jose is suddenly standing in the doorway and I wonder how much he heard. He asks me to speak with him in the hallway and my stomach twists. I can already tell what's coming. Jose whispers that I'm not to talk about sad or frightening things with Thomas. Especially not about Matt.
What can I do but agree to follow their rules?
I nod my consent, avoiding Jose’s eyes. I think Thomas deserves to know what's going on.
Ellen goes over a few instructions for me as they are leaving, “Thomas can have one Tylenol if he starts to hurt more. He doesn't need his other medicine until tonight and we plan to be back within two hours.”
“We’ll be fine,” I promise.
Shutting and locking the door behind them, I walk back to Thomas’ room and find Thomas and Rosa playing together. I show Thomas all the cool toys we brought for him and help him open them. He lets Rosa strum the guitar with him. He's most excited about the skateboard and can't wait to get well enough to start "doing cool jumps and riding it down hills." I bet you two pints of blood Jose and Ellen aren't going to let that happen.
*****
I have had a lot of firsts lately. First love. First date. First child, kind of. Jose and Ellen have only been gone twenty minutes when another first happens. For the first time in the five years our community has been living here, the warning alarms start to sound.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The Tunnel of Love
As prepared as I thought I was for this, it's super scary. Rosa and Thomas look up at me, confused about the loud noise but unaware of what it means.
Thomas can tell something is wrong and he yells, "What is it Ivy?"
Thomas's house is close to the fence, and the alarms are deafening. I have to shout back, "It's an attack! We have to get out of here!"
I run to the window to see what's going on outside. No one is in sight out there, no infected and no Living either. I have to get the kids out of here and to the tunnel. Turning back to face Thomas in his wheelchair, I'm not sure how I'll do it.
Then suddenly Matt is there. I can't believe how I feel when I see him stride confidently into Thomas' room. I'm instantly calmer. He's here now. He cares for Thomas and, for some reason, he cares for me. He is here and nothing can hurt us. I feel safer with him because he's one of them. I know we don't believe in hurting them or fighting them. And I totally agree with that. I don't want to hurt anyone. But is it bad that I feel safer with Matt because I know he would stop at nothing to make sure we're ok?
Matt goes straight to Thomas. He hasn't seen him since he carried him bloody and dying into the compound. He wraps him tenderly in a hug made awkward by the wheelchair. I can see both relief and guilt on his face. Will he ever forgive himself for letting Thomas get hurt? And can he keep us safer this time? There are even more of us. We can't live in the tunnel. Where can we go to be safe?
"What's happening?" I shout at him over the scream of the sirens.
"We have to hurry," he yells, close to my ear "They came in on the other side. I did some scouting last night, and you were right. They are here for you. Everyone has your picture and Pravda is promising a lifetime of happiness for whoever brings you to them alive."
Hearing Matt say "a lifetime of happiness" plants a seed of doubt in the pit of my gut. I can't help but wonder if I can trust this boy that I've been falling for. He doesn't believe. He doesn't follow the path of righteousness. He is one of the most attractive men left of their kind. Surely he could have anyone he wanted. I'm not naive enough to think that he loves me and that love is enough.
What is to keep him from turning me in? Buying freedom for Thomas?
That's his greatest desire isn't it? To live his life with his little brother in safety.
He walks towards me, and I shrink back—overwhelmed with my precarious predicament. There are hundreds of zombies hunting me out there. Matt holds his hands up in front of himself to show me he's not trying to touch me or take me. He comes close to me and looks into my eyes. Like pulsing emerald stones, his magical eyes cast their spell. I relax in his closeness and take a deep steady breath.
He leans close to my ear, his cheek against mine, and says, "I'm going to keep you safe. I know I told you not to trust anyone, but you CAN trust me."
His breath against my ear is intoxicating. He puts an arm behind me and pulls me even closer to his lips. His arms are comforting, but different than Tim's. They feel tense like iron even though he holds me gently.
His lips brush my cheek as he promises, "I hate Pravda and everything they stand for. They are my enemy as much as they are yours. I promise to get you out of here. Will you come with me?"
I love him for asking me nicely and not trying to boss me. I nod that I will go with him. I had no idea he hated Pravda that much, and I want to know why.
Our mutual enemy?
No time to give heed to these new questions—right now, we have to run.
"I'm all ready," I say grabbing my bag. Rosa is standing near me, surprisingly calm, and as always, ready to follow me anywhere.
Thomas on the other hand is not ready. He's in a wheelchair, no shoes on, no bag packed, wounds that need constant care, and medicines that I don't know how to find. Matt pulls the blankets off of Thomas' bed and throws a pair of pants on the bottom sheet. I see what he's doing and hurry to help. I go quickly through Thomas' dresser and find the Steelers’ sweatshirt and the Steelers’ jersey right next to each other. No time to worry about embarrassing Thomas, I find his underwear drawer and throw a few pairs on the bed.
Leaving Matt to pull the rest together, I go to the kitchen with Rosa in my arms. Ellen told me where to find the Tylenol, and I'm desperately hoping to find his other meds there, too. I grab the painkiller and the two other bottles sitting with it and tuck them in my bag. Back in Thomas' room, I find Matt lacing up T
homas' shoes for him. I don't even know if Thomas is up to walking.
Matt has grabbed the four corners of the sheet and tied them up, making a sack of Thomas' things. One more glance around the room to make sure there isn't anything else we should take. I'm sure there are a lot of things he will wish we had grabbed for him; such is our occasionally rotten life.
We have to get to the tunnel before the mob makes its way over to this side of the compound. Throwing the sack on Thomas' lap, Matt wheels him out of the room. Thomas is asking for Jose and Ellen as we hurry from the house. Neither Matt or I say anything. There is little chance that we'll ever see them again.
The tunnel entrance is only a short distance from Thomas' house—if you go through yards. Wheel chairs aren't ideal for yards, ditches and low laying shrubs. Thomas winces in pain over every jolt. Matt's face is grim as he hurries us over the shortest distance, hating how much he is hurting his Tom. But fear of worse injury drives him forward.
The sirens are screaming, and it feels like my eardrums might burst. Outside of the house and this close to the fence, the volume is maddening—driving all other thoughts out of my head. I can't think. I just want relief from the panic-inducing, repetitious blaring. As we dart past a clearing, I see the North gate about two blocks away. For the first time since the fence was put up, the gate is hanging open and unprotected. But there isn't an infected soul to be seen anywhere on the other side. They truly are all on the other side of the compound.
Searching for me.
Killing my friends.
The mind bending siren, the panic and pressing fears, all of this has kept me from processing what's really happening—until now. Tim. Harmony and Sherry. Rev. Depold. Mr. Terrell. Dr. Markowitz. Dr. Talmurf. Jose and Ellen. Frank and Jean Hosch. They may all die because of me.
Agony hits my soul with so much force that I stumble and my legs buckle. My eyes are an ocean, and the watery blindness brings my panicked getaway to a full stop. If I went back now, could I save anyone? Would the onslaught cease when they found me? I know I won't be able to live with myself if I don't try. But then Rosa is pulling on me. I blink the tears away and look into her young, innocent face. She understands who we're running from. She has been running longer than I have. I can't let them kill her. Would Matt take her for me? Protect her?
Matt has reached the tunnel. He looks up to see me across the yard standing still. Our eyes meet and he knows what I want. Somehow he knows. He angrily shakes his head "no." Leaving Thomas sitting in his wheelchair next to the hole in the ground, Matt runs back towards me glaring and yelling over the siren's screams. I can only make out every other word in the minuscule pauses between the steady beats of the blaring noise.
"You——save them——vy!" he yells, "——too late! Please——, I need——. Tom ——Rosa need y——. Stay——me! Help me!" He's run close enough for me to make out most of his words. "I can't get Tom through the tunnel without you. Save us!" he screams. "You can't save them!"
He points away towards the rest of town, and I follow his finger. The sky is full of black smoke. They are burning the town down. I pray for God to forgive me as I hurry to help Matt with Thomas.
Matt goes down first, and I toss down all of our things. Then I gently ease Thomas out of the wheel chair and help him sit on the edge of the hole. He grimaces in pain but doesn't cry or complain. I hold under Thomas’ good arm and half lift/ half push him into the opening. Matt catches him at the bottom, and Thomas cries out in pain.
I try to hand the wheelchair down to Matt, but it won't fit in the hole. It takes me several moments of tears and frustration to finally fold it and shove it down to Matt. I lift Rosa down next; and, finally, jump in myself. Matt climbs back up the ladder and pulls the heavy piece of wood over the opening, sealing us in noisy darkness.
Thomas is crying. Rosa is crying. I'm crying. All the people we've lost swim before my tear filled eyes. The world is broken and wrong. Everyone we know may be dead. They will wake to the sweet peace of eternity. We are still stuck here in Hell.
Matt doesn't give us long to cry. He lifts Thomas into the wheel chair and grabs the sheet full of belongings. I pick up Rosa and carry our bag, trying to follow close behind Matt. The wheelchair barely fits through the tunnel. Matt has to crouch behind it and push it through with laborious, back-breaking shoves. The pipe we traverse is completely round with no flat surface for the wheels. It's a slow process, slogging our way through the dark. My feet keep stumbling, despite how many times they've traveled the pipe, because I feel dead inside and disconnected.
When we get to the other end of the tunnel, Matt says we should rest for awhile before trying to lift Tom and the wheelchair up into the shelter of the little house. I don't even know how we'll do it after we rest. Thomas must weigh around 100 pounds. If Matt goes up the ladder and leans down for him, he'll have to grab him by his arms which will definitely reopen Thomas' wounds. If we haven't reopened them already. I don't have the strength to lift him even half way up. We may have to stay down here in the rat filled tunnel for days. I'm so despondent, I can't muster any hope that Matt can come up with a solution.
Chapter Fifty
God Gives Me More
We sit for a long time. The siren is muffled on our far end of the tunnel, but it still rattles my soul. Matt goes up into the house and brings down blankets and Gov. Bars. The kids eat; and, after we make them a soft spot on the ground with blankets, they fall asleep together. I marvel again at how unique Thomas is. Rosa is a shy little girl, untrusting of most everyone. But there she lies, cuddled close to Thomas not long after meeting him. To know Thomas is to know sweetness and innocence.
Matt sighs as he sits down next to me and searches in the dark for my hand. His touch gives me comfort and lifts me a few degrees out of my despair. I find God there, hovering above my self-loathing darkness. He was politely waiting for me to turn to Him; sitting quietly in my spirit until I was ready to talk. I don't really pray or form any requests in my head, I just let Jesus give me the peace and comfort of His presence. I know He has a plan, and I hope I haven't messed it up too badly.
Am I supposed to be here?
Matt caresses my hand with his thumb, and I feel the attraction stir again. I feel guilty for having those feelings right now. I wonder wryly if this counts as our third date. After all, we did walk through the tunnel again. I think it's safe to say that I have bad taste in men.
After what feels like hours of sitting in the dark with Matt’s arm around me, new sounds start to echo down the tunnel. Something big is coming towards us. I'm scared that it is giant rats and even more scared that it's not. Matt shushes me and climbs over me, putting himself between me and whatever is noisily approaching. A soft sound like someone crying carries to where I sit. Then I hear Harmony quietly call my name.
"Matt, it's Harmony!" I jump up and hit my head on the pipe.
In the blind darkness, bright colorful lights fill my vision. Matt catches me as I stumble and sits me down gently.
"I'll get her," he says, brushing my forehead with his lips.
Several feet down the pipe I hear Harmony demand in a quavering voice, "Where is Ivy?! Do you have her?"
"I'm here," I call.
She stifles a sob and follows the sound of my voice until she stumbles on top of me. I feel her thin arms around me, and I hurt for her as I feel her whole body shake with silent sobs against me.
"They're all gone!" she wails in the darkness, and her voice echoes down the tunnels.
"Ivy, she has to be quiet!" Matt insists.
I shush her and hug her tightly.
"Did you re-cover the hole?" Matt asks impatiently.
I wish he could be a little more sensitive. She's been through so much in the last 24 hours. She's fragile, and this is too much for her. I feel Harmony shake her head "no" on my shoulder, and I purse my lips. I know Matt is going to be mad.
"She couldn't have reached Matt; and she wouldn't have been st
rong enough if she could reach."
"I'll be back," he says flatly.
I know Harmony wasn't part of his plan. He had a hard enough job getting me, Rosa and Tom to somewhere safe. Adding delicate, terrified Harmony to the list of his charges is not what he wanted.
When Matt comes back from recovering the hole, he is quiet. I can tell, even in the dark, that he's angry.
"Who did you tell!" he finally demands, his tone full of hate and disgust.
"What are you talking about?" I bristle.
"Not you, her," he accuses. "She told someone. There were people calling for you up above. Very near the tunnel."
"Who?" I ask excited and hopeful that some of our members still Live. "We have to go help them!"
"No."
"What do you mean, 'No!’ Of course we have to! They'll be killed if we don't!"
"And we'll be killed if we do. First of all, if any escaped it was intentional. Pravda hasn't found you, and they'll follow those poor bastards right to us. She's put us in way more danger than you realize. Second of all, suppose we let some of them down here? You think they're going to let you and Tom go with me? You think they will follow me and elect me their new leader?"
My silence answers him.
"No. They won't. We'll be lucky to not be found now. I pulled some brush over the wood cover. It's getting dark; I don't think anyone will find the tunnel tonight. But you can bet Pravda will have people scouring every inch of ground when they don't find you tonight. We can't stay here long."
"I'm sorry, Ivy." Harmony whispers.
"There's nothing to be sorry for!" I assure her quietly. "I'm so glad you're safe. I wouldn't change it for the world."
I remember the look in her eyes last night when she sat back up, dead and then suddenly alive again. There is a plan here. God is orchestrating something big. I'm comforted every time I think of how He leads and directs me. I hope I'm in His plan now. I hope I've followed wisdom and not my fears or my hormones. I think I'm supposed to be here now; but, if I'm wrong, then I'm probably guilty of the murder of a lot of Saints.
"What if my mom got away? What if she's up there? We have to go see who it is Ivy!" Harmony begs.
INFECtIOUS Page 30
