by Haga, A. H.
“As long as you don’t see those changes when they aren’t there,” I said, at the same time as André said: “Are you a doctor?”
“I won’t, Kit,” Shadia answered without turning away from André. “And no, but neither are you. I am, however, used to looking for symptoms and trying to figure them out.” At this, her eyes wavered, almost jumping to me but not quite.
“Fine, that’s settled,” I said, pushing up into a full sitting position. “André, what about your other … subjects? What’ll you do?” I wasn’t sure what I meant by that. What could he do? Hunt around town for his zombies and kill them? Bring them with us?
The sound of his feet shuffling over the concrete preceded him as he arrived in the doorway. “If it’s OK with the two of you, I want to check on them tomorrow; then we can leave the day after that?”
Exchanging a glance with Shadia, I nodded and fell back on the bed, regretting it the moment the impact sent a shock of pain through my back. Falling on concrete was not recommended.
“How were you bitten?” I asked.
André’s ears turned red, and he looked away. “I tried to get close to the subject,” he said in so low a voice I wasn’t sure I’d heard right at first. “I… did an experiment, and it didn’t work out.”
“What kind of experiment?” Shadia asked.
André’s hands clenched into fists. “Nothing important,” he mumbled before he turned and marched off to the bathroom. Shadia and I exchanged a glance, and agreed without a word to drop it at that.
We spent hours packing. Or, Shadia and André packed, and I stayed in bed, pointing out what we might need and what we might not. Between André and my own fascination with apocalyptic shows before the actual apocalypse happened, we should be safe enough.
There was one messenger bag with medication alone; strong pain medication for me and weaker ones for the other two. There were antibiotics and antibacterial sprays and gels. Bandages and band-aids and everything else one could think to have in a medical bag. This bag would stay with me at all times. As Shadia pointed out, it was the one bag we couldn’t afford to lose, and she would not leave me behind, so if I wore it, it would make it with us. Neither of us argued. We also put in a few other essentials, just in case I got separated from the others somehow.
There was another bag with canned foods, and another with just water. That one would travel on the back of my chair, making it a little easier for us to carry. We’d tested it on the chair yesterday, and while it was heavy, it was easier than actually carrying it.
We didn’t talk any more about André being bitten or his experiments, but it hung over us all like a dark cloud. It was a relief when we were done and went to our separate rooms.
The next morning, Shadia woke early, waking me with her so I could watch as she checked out André’s wound, just in case. It was a quick and easy affair. She photographed the wound, which still hadn’t started to heal, and took his temperature and pulse. She was a lot more thorough with her checks than he had been, even asking if he’d noticed any blood in his waste. He blushed and stammered a ‘no’, and hurried to leave for the daily check on his zombies.
“What if he doesn’t come back? I wouldn’t after questions like that,” I said as I lay back on the bed.
Shadia shrugged. “Then we leave without him.”
She started preparing breakfast. The two of us would have run out of food by now, but André had a big stash of canned goods, bottled water, and medication. He even had a sun-charger for phones and other electronics, including Shadia’s Kindle. It looked like he’d raided every shop and pharmacy on this side of town. We couldn’t bring even half of it with us, but at least we knew we would have more than enough supplies for a while. The fact that we wouldn’t have to worry about finding more medication before reaching the cabin was a great load off my shoulders. Even Shadia seemed lighter knowing that.
Shadia and I spent the rest of the day relaxing and talking, discussing the plan. André had a map, and we’d drawn out the best way for us to get to the freeway and the road beside it. He agreed that was the best course of action we could take. The only thing he mentioned was trying to avoid the cult in the park. There was no telling what they would do if they saw a guy and two women walking along. Or, well, one of the women walking and one in a chair, which was another thing he was concerned about. If they were so obsessed with health, how would they react to me? For now, all we had to do was wait for him to return, and the night to turn to day.
I joked with Shadia that there were many adult things we could do to pass the time, but she shot that down quickly. I wasn’t surprised, so I snuggled into her arms, happy with the cuddles.
“What do we do if we get split up?” I asked after a while.
It took so long for Shadia to answer, I thought she might have fallen asleep, but finally, she said: “Then we meet up again.”
I sat up to look at her. “How?”
She pulled me down to lie on her again. “The train stations,” she said when I was comfortable. “If we get split up, we both go to the next train station and wait for the other there.”
I opened my mouth to ask how long we should wait. What if the other one didn’t come? What would we do then? But Shadia shushed me before I was able to form the words, and I closed my mouth again. It was nothing to worry about, because it wouldn’t happen. We would stay together, and we would be safe.
André returned and hurried into his room. There was black blood on his hands, and he smelled of fear and wet iron. We didn’t bother him as he cleaned up and got himself put together. When he reemerged, there was no sign of the wild look he had worn when he entered. Shadia checked his wound again and did the whole routine anew before they prepared dinner.
We went to bed early that night and woke even earlier. It was time to hit the road again.
13
“Well, there was no sign of any cancer on the tests, Katerina,” the doctor said, turning away from his computer to look at me.
“OK, so why do I feel sick?” I answered, clenching my hands in my lap.
The doctor sighed. “Well, it isn’t unusual for the body to react badly to chemotherapy. We pump you full of poison, after all, and that has some effect.”
“Not a year after the last treatment, it shouldn’t,” Shadia said from beside me. Her hands were folded in her lap as well, but more out of anger than fear. Her face was angry as well. Jaw set, barely moving to speak, and eyes hard as they stared at the doctor. “She should at least be able to work a little by now. It’s been a year.”
“Speaking of which,” the doctor said, turning a little in his chair to look at the screen again, “why aren’t you working? You should be back to at least fifty percent by now.”
Shadia opened her mouth to speak, but I reached over and took her hand. “I’m not working ‘cause when I tried twenty percent half a year ago, I passed out the first day. When I tried again the week after, I threw up before one hour had passed.”
“What do you work with?”
“Packaging in storage.”
“OK. So why didn’t you try any more than those two times?”
“Because you said she needed more time,” Shadia growled.
“It may just be that your body needs a kick. Have you tried working out?”
“Yes,” I answered, not able to keep the anger from my voice this time. “Three months ago, when you suggested it. I tried joining Shadia for a walk and ended up bedbound for four days, too weak to even dress myself.”
The doctor pursed his lips. “Well, that’s not good.”
“No, it is not,” Shadia said. “So what is going on with her? Why is she like this?”
“I don’t know.”
“What can we do about it?” I asked, squeezing Shadia’s hand to keep her from blowing up.
“I’ll order some new tests. We’ll figure this out, don’t worry.”
But I was worried. He’d almost missed my cancer when I came to him two years ago.
He hadn’t believed me about my failing health after the treatment ended. I’d had to trick him into taking blood last time I was here. This was the first time he’d even considered that something else could be going on. I was worried, because my body didn’t feel right.
Voices woke me. When I looked up, I saw Shadia was examining André’s wound again. When he saw me looking, he rolled his eyes to try and hide a blush. I hid my smile and sat up, stretching. As André started pulling his shirt back on, I noticed he was sweating a little. Was he nervous about leaving? I was ready to move out of this basement and get on the road again.
Shadia didn’t let it happen as fast as André or I wanted, however. She forced us both to eat something, as well as talk about our route and what to do if we got separated. She also forced us to look at the map so we would know roughly where the train stations were.
Finally, we were ready.
André headed up the stairs first, to make sure there were no zombies waiting to get in our way. He returned with a thumbs up before he grabbed my chair and started dragging it up the stairs. He’d practiced folding it in and out again a million times yesterday so he could do it on the run if he had to. When he returned the second time, he grabbed the extra bags and carried them up the stairs as well. On his third descent, it was my turn.
Shadia and André had discussed how best to make sure I stayed with them. We would all be dragging a lot of stuff with us, so for Shadia to carry me on her back wouldn’t work for long. In case we were chased by zombies and came to an area where we had to leave the chair, we needed a plan B. André, the little scavenger that he was, had an idea. He’d seen rescuers use a foldable kind of stretcher, and so he’d sat up last night to make one. It was just a sheet, strong ropes, and two metal pipes, but it was easy to fold together and put in a bag. It was not comfortable to lie on, but who was I to complain?
The trip up the stairs was a bumpy one, but at least we got to the top where they lowered me to the floor. Shadia helped me into the chair, and I turned to look out the big windows and onto the street as the others pulled on their bags and rucksacks. Everything looked quiet. No zombies walking around, hardly even any wind, but the hairs on my neck stood up anyway. It felt like someone was watching us.
“Here,” André said, handing me a dark green bandana that almost matched my hair. Shadia was holding a purple one.
“What’s that for?” I asked, taking it even as I spoke the words.
Before he answered, André pulled his own red bandana over his mouth and nose. “The smell,” he said.
I tied the bandana around my throat and pulled it up. I was wearing my sunglasses and they fogged up at my first exhale.
“This’ll be a problem,” I murmured and tried to move the bandana away from the edge of the glasses.
“It’s not like you need to see where you’re going,” Shadia said.
Before I could answer, she grabbed my hand and kissed my fingertips. I pulled down the bandana and stuck my tongue out at her before I pulled it back into place.
“You two ready?” André asked.
He’d walked to the doors and was staring through the glass onto the street. Or I thought he was watching the street, but when I turned his way, I saw he was looking up.
Shadia answered in the affirmative and moved to stand behind me, pushing me past the different gym machines and toward the door. André unlocked the chain holding the doors together–I couldn’t help but wonder at the point when the doors were glass and most of the walls were glass, and it would be so easy to break in–and let it fall to the floor with a clatter that made my teeth itch.
The smell hit us first. It had been bad when we left our apartment days ago, but now it was like a blanket in the air. I could almost feel it against my skin and taste it in my mouth, lying like a layer on my tongue. Behind me, Shadia gagged audibly. I wasn’t as loud, but I was also fighting against the muscles in my stomach that wanted to chuck up my breakfast.
André tapped the side of his nose, or his bandana, and winked at us before he stood aside to give us room. I considered popping a piece of gum in my mouth to try and fight the smell, but I was afraid it would only taste like death.
When she was done gagging, Shadia tipped me back to get me over the step, and we emerged into bright sunlight.
I blinked, blinded for a second, and by the hiss from behind, Shadia was the same. My eyes closed, I heard the echo of a dead moan from somewhere behind me, too low to be any threat. Then I heard something else: boots on asphalt.
My eyes blinked open. It was still too bright for me to see anything clearly, but I heard how Shadia drew in a gasp, and André cursed. Then, a new voice spoke:
“What a nice surprise.”
14
“Who are you?” the voice of an adult man asked.
My eyes blinked into focus at the words. I guessed the owner of the voice was the man standing right in front of us. He was tall and well built, but with a gaunt look to his face that reminded me of sickness. He stood in the middle of the road, in-between cars, and I guess he had hidden there until André was done bringing stuff up. How long had he waited? There were two men standing beside him, and two more were walking toward us along the sidewalk, one to either side. All the men were wearing bandanas or scarves around their faces, just like us.
“Who’re you?” I asked, trying to meet his eyes before I realized he wouldn’t see mine behind the glasses. He wasn’t really looking at me anyway. He barely seemed to register that I was part of the group. His eyes were on Shadia, running up and down her fit body.
“She asked you a question,” Shadia said.
“How rude of me not to introduce myself,” the man answered, and walked past the car standing between him and us. The two men beside him stayed put, but the ones on the sidewalk were only meters away now. They stopped there. “My name is Nicholas Glass. And you?”
“My name is Shadia, this is André,” she gestured to his cringing form. He was almost hiding behind us, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. Something about Nicholas was overpowering. “And this is my wife, Kit.” Shadia squeezed my shoulder. At the word ‘wife’, Nicholas finally looked down at me, his nose wrinkling.
“I hope you don’t think me rude, but I did not expect to see anyone like you again,” he said, his voice as hard as a rock.
“I do,” I answered, looking up at him but doing my best to look down at him at the same time.
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Do what?”
“Think you rude.” He opened his mouth, but I continued before he could defend himself. “But I’ll forgive you. It’s a natural thought to have, with the state of the world and all.” Shadia squeezed my shoulder again, but I wasn’t sure if she was asking me to be careful or egging me on. “Nice to meet you, Nicholas,” I finished, putting out my hand. I did not want to shake his hand–who knew what kind of germs he was carrying around–but I’d long since learned that the only way to deal with ableist people was to face them head-on. Force them to see me as an equal by acting as if it was my right. It was, but they didn’t see it that way.
He stared at the hand for a heartbeat before he took it, giving one quick shake and letting go, then returning his gaze to Shadia. There was something hungry in his eyes that I didn’t like.
“I have to agree with my girl, Nicholas. And if you don’t mind, we have a fair distance to go before lunch and should really be on our way,” Shadia said, taking her hand off my shoulder. I guessed she returned it to the handle behind me, ready to move if we needed to.
“Oh? And where would you be going?”
“To a family cabin.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s safe.”
The man to our right coughed, and we all turned to look at him. “There’s nowhere safe now,” he said, his eyes sad in contrast to his rough voice.
“Nowhere but here,” Nicholas said. “We have a safe place.”
“I bet,” I murmured, but no one seemed to hear.
“Vigeland Parken, of course! We have a small village there, and you know what they say about villages.” Nicholas winked.
“Uhm, I don’t,” André said, finally speaking up.
Nicholas’s smile faltered. “That it takes a village.”
“To do what?”
I snorted a laugh and heard two of the men do the same.
“To … do stuff,” Nicholas said, clearly unsure. Then he cleared his throat and continued, back in character. “To survive, in this case.”
“It is nice of you to offer,” Shadia said, bringing the attention back to her. “I assume you’re offering to bring us to your safe haven, your village? Why else mention it?”
“That is correct.”
“But, as I said, we know somewhere safe and will be going there instead.”
Nicholas’s smile fell. “That is mighty rude of you.”
“Why?”
He spread his arms. “Here we are, offering you safety and sanctuary, and you throw it back in our faces?”
“I’m not throwing anything. Just saying ‘no thank you’ to an offer, as you just called it. That is my right, is it not?”
“There are no rights or wrongs anymore,” Nicholas said, his eyes going dark.
“Let’s just go,” I said, bringing his eyes to me again.
“Yeah,” André said, barely loud enough for us to hear. “We should go.”
“I think we should. Good luck with your village, Nicholas.” Shadia’s voice was all steel and professionalism as she turned my chair around and started walking.
“Well, then I think we have a problem,” Nicholas said from behind us. Shadia didn’t stop but sped up a little. I wasn’t sure anyone other than me noticed. “You see, we are trying to save the human race, and letting possible mothers go, goes against everything we stand for.”
We reached the man on our side. For a second, I thought he would step away and let us pass, but at the last moment, he stepped into me. My chair whipped to the side, and Shadia lost her grip. I banged into a car. The metal against metal screamed as the chair tipped and I was thrown to the asphalt. Shadia yelled my name and bent to help me up, but the man grabbed her and threw his arms around her, holding her in place.
