by Amy Cross
Behind me, the injured man groans again.
“Stay still!” I hear Carter hiss. “I'm trying to save your life, you moron!”
“Is Patterson in charge in Boston now?” I ask.
The soldier looks back into the truck for a moment, before turning to me again.
“Patterson's not very important there,” he explains. “There's a lot of jockeying for position, and the smarter people are keeping their heads down. I get the feeling that the plan was to take Boston, and that no-one really had much mapped out after that. Some scouts showed up yesterday with some big news, but I don't know what that was about. A lot of people are gossiping and spreading rumors, and apart from that we're all just trying to keep busy. I thought it'd be good to go on patrol, I thought staying out of the way was the safest option. And then this happened.”
He looks past me, and I turn to see that Carter is muttering to herself as she works frantically on the injured man.
“Hang in there, Dave!” the soldier calls out. “You're gonna be fine!”
“Thomas,” Carter says, “can you take that asshole somewhere else? He's distracting me.”
“Don't take it personally,” I tell the soldier. “She's like that with everyone.”
“But she's a real doctor, right?”
I nod.
“She'd better know what she's doing,” he continues. “I don't want to have to go back to Boston alone. Dave's got family and he has good reason to think they're alive out there somewhere, in the Appalachians. He was saying the other day that soon he's gonna head that way and link up with them again. I don't know how to explain it, but there's this feeling growing in Boston, people are saying that maybe the worst of this nightmare's coming to an end. Some people are even suggesting that things might start getting back to normal.”
“It doesn't feel much like that to me,” I tell him.
“I did all I can,” Carter says suddenly, clambering off the back of the truck and wiping her blood-stained hands against the sides of her shirt. “His injuries were too severe. He's dead.”
“No!” the soldier says firmly. “Keep trying!”
“Are you a fucking idiot?” Carter replies. “He bled out, he's dead. I'm not going to waste my time on some pointless chest compressions, just to satisfy your urge for something theatrical. The man is dead. I need you to take his corpse away from here, it's no use to us.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” the soldier snaps, shoving her hard against the side of the truck. “Where do you get off talking to me like that?”
“Oh, are you going to act like a tough guy?” she asks. “Is that your plan?”
“I don't like your attitude,” he tells her.
“I don't give a shit,” she replies. “No-one asked you to come here. Now take your dead friend and beat it.”
She pushes his hands away and storms back toward the steps, leaving me standing with the soldier.
“What's her problem?” the soldier asks.
“I honestly don't know,” I reply, “but she might have a point. You don't want to stick around here.” I pause for a moment, as I realize that this guy has a truck with gas. “But,” I continue cautiously, “if you're leaving, then would you mind if a couple of us tag along? We won't be any trouble, I promise.”
“I'm not taking that bitch,” he says firmly. “No chance.”
“Not her,” I reply. “My friend's here, but it's complicated. Can you wait until tomorrow?”
“I can't stick around,” he explains. “I'm already late getting back to Boston, they've probably assumed that we're both dead by now.” He turns and looks into the truck. “I'm going to have to bury him somewhere, though. They won't want another dead body within the city limits. They're already struggling to bury the corpses before diseases start to spread.”
“I can help,” I tell him. “And then maybe you'll wait just a little longer, until my friend's ready to come?”
“Why can't your friend come now?” he asks.
“Well, I...” I pause for a moment. “It's kinda complicated.”
He hesitates, and then he nods. At the same time, his shoulders drop slightly, as if he's glad to finally take a break.
“One night,” he tells me, “and then I have to get going.” He turns and looks back into the truck. “And I want there to be some dignity to this. He deserves a proper burial.”
Thomas
“I was in New York when it happened,” Robert says as we sit on the ground, staring at the freshly-dug grave that we've prepared for his friend. “I saw a plane drop out of the sky.”
“We were out in the countryside,” I reply. “We saw it all happening pretty slowly. People got sick, then more people, then even my family.”
“I don't really have any family,” he says. “Not really, not anymore. I guess that's one upside to things. At least I didn't have to watch bad things happen to people I care about.” He turns to me. “You're just a kid. Are you out here all alone, without your folks?”
“They died,” I tell him. “I'm not a kid, though. Not anymore.”
“So what kind of set-up have they got here?” he asks, getting to his feet and turning to look up at the hospital's upper windows. “This is a big place.”
“It's basically abandoned,” I reply. “There's an underground laboratory, which is where they do all their work. They're developing...”
My voice trails off as I realize that maybe I shouldn't say too much.
“Developing what?” he asks, turning to me.
“A cure,” I say cautiously, figuring that there's no harm in being honest. “They told me they're close. They'd better be, because they infected my friend and if they can't bring her back...”
“What are you talking about? Who infected your friend?”
“His name's Musgrave. He and Carter are working on a cure. Musgrave deliberately infected Elizabeth and now he's waiting before he gives her the cure.”
“When you said you were waiting for a friend,” Robert replies, “you didn't say anything about her being infected.”
“It's going to be okay!” I tell him, although – as I say those words – I know that they wouldn't be of much comfort to me if our roles here were reversed. “They wouldn't have done it if they weren't sure. I mean, that'd be crazy. They're not that cruel.”
“Where's your friend now?” he asks.
“She's around the back of the building, but -”
Before I can finish, he turns and starts making his way along the side of the hospital.
“Hey, wait!” I shout, hurrying after him. “I need to explain properly! Carter and Musgrave might be assholes, but they're not idiots! And it's not like I have any choice. I have to trust them, and right now I actually think there's a chance that they're going to save her!”
He doesn't reply, but he quickens his pace and finally he reaches the far end of the building. As he goes around the corner, I follow and see that Elizabeth is hunched on the ground.
“What the hell?” Robert gasps, and then suddenly he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun.
“No!” I yell. “Don't -”
Before I can get a word out, he fires at Elizabeth, although he misses and hits the tree behind her.
She snarls and stumbles to her feet.
Robert fires again, and this time he hits Elizabeth in the shoulder. She cries out and falls back, slamming hard onto the grass, and Robert adjusts his aim.
“Stop!” I shout, stepping in the way and holding my arms up to block his shot. “You can't do this!”
“We have orders to kill every single one of those creatures as soon as we see them,” he says firmly, “and I'm not about to stop now.” He aims again, and then he sighs as I once more step in front of the gun. “Kid, you have no idea what you're doing right now,” he continues. “The creatures have to be eliminated as soon as they're spotted.”
“She's not a creature!” I reply. “Not yet, anyway! I mean, she is, but she's going to go bac
k to her old self again!”
Sighing, he shakes his head.
“Just wait and see,” I continue. “You have to at least give her a chance. She's tied up, and she's only got one foot so she's not exactly speedy. Musgrave's going to give her the cure tomorrow, and then you'll see. I know it sounds insane, but they're on the verge of developing a cure and it's the only hope!”
“You've got to be kidding.”
“There's no -”
“Get out of my way!” he snaps, suddenly grabbing my arm and hauling me aside.
He takes a step toward Elizabeth.
She stumbles to her feet and growls at him.
He raises the gun.
“Stop!” I yell.
I rush in front of him, desperate to stop him. And then, just as the gun presses against my chest, he pulls the trigger.
***
It takes a moment before I understand what the empty clicking sound means.
“Damn it, kid,” he mutters, lowering the gun and checking to make sure that there's no more ammunition. “If I hadn't run out, you'd be dead by now.”
Too shocked to know what to say, I take a step back and reach up to touch my chest. The gun was aimed directly at my heart, and the barrel was pressed straight against my chest at the moment Robert pulled the trigger.
He's right.
I'd be dead.
“You're a complete fucking idiot,” Robert continues, as he starts searching his pockets. “You almost gave your life for a fucking zombie. Are you really that stupid?”
For a moment, I can only imagine what would have happened if the gun had gone off. I imagine myself falling back down against the grass with a wound in my chest. There would probably have been a second or two in which I'd have realized what had happened, and then my life would have simply faded away.
Behind me, Elizabeth growls again.
I turn and see the anger on her face.
“That thing has to die,” Robert says firmly, “and then you need to figure out what the hell's wrong in your head, kid.”
“Elizabeth's not a bad person,” I stammer, “she -”
“I don't care what she was,” he continues. “She might have been the best person in the whole fucking world, but right now she's a zombie!”
“That doesn't mean you have to kill her,” I tell him.
“She's already dead!” he yells, shoving me back. “Can't you get that through your thick head? Your buddy's dead, all that's left is for someone to put her out of her misery.” He looks over at her for a moment. “It's not right, leaving someone like this. It's disrespectful. I never knew your friend when she was alive, but I'm sure she wouldn't have wanted to be left stumbling around. Anyone would want to be put out of their misery.”
He mutters something about fetching some ammunition from his truck, and then he turns and heads around the side of the building.
I open my mouth to call after him, but at the last second I stop myself. After all, everything he just said is basically the same as the things I said about Jane a few days ago. On top of that, the idea of Musgrave and Carter magically curing Elizabeth seems somehow fantastical, and I'm starting to wonder whether it's really possible. As I listen to the sound of Robert's footsteps tramping away across the grass, I can't help but turn and look back at Elizabeth. If there's even a flicker of her old mind left in that body, won't she be begging us to end her misery?
Suddenly I hear a faint cry, and I turn to look back at the corner.
Robert's footsteps have come to an abrupt halt.
I hesitate for a moment, and then I head over and look along the next side of the building, only to see that Robert is slumped on the floor and Carter is standing above him. She's holding a small black device with two metal prongs, and I realize after a few seconds that she must have used the device to knock Robert out.
“So let me guess,” she says, glancing at me. “This asshole was about to interfere in our work, wasn't he?”
Elizabeth
“Help me!” I scream, pulling further back into the corner of the featureless room as the darkness edges closer. “Mom! Dad! Henry! Someone get me out of here!”
Already, the darkness is starting to eat into my body, and I look down in horror at the sight of my right leg starting to fade into oblivion.
Day 105
Thomas
Why can't he just stop all that yelling?
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, in total darkness, I listen to the sound of Robert still struggling with the ropes. He's muttering and cursing under his breath, and I know that at any moment he'll -
“Help!” he shouts suddenly, his voice sounding so loud in the cold night air. “If anyone can hear me, I need help!”
When she told me to sit out here and monitor Robert for the night, Carter specifically warned me not to go over and talk to him. She told me to stay right where I am, out of sight, and she insisted that I only interact with the prisoner if he actually manages to escape from his ropes. At the same time, it's easy for her to say stuff like that when she and Musgrave and that creepy kid are down in the underground laboratory. I'm the only one who has to put up with Robert's constant yells, and frankly the guy's starting to piss me off.
“Assholes,” he says under his breath. “Bunch of fucking zombie-loving freaks.”
“Shut up,” I whisper, but not loud enough for him to hear.
For a moment he falls silent. At first I'm relieved, but then I realize that his silence only means that I can hear Elizabeth in the distance. She seems to have little bursts of activity, during which I hear her snarling and struggling, and then she always falls dormant for a while. Right now she sounds ferocious, and I can't help worrying that sooner or later she might actually slip free of her ropes. I'm basically guarding two prisoners at once right now, and I really don't understand how I'm supposed to stay sane for the whole night.
I doubt it's much after midnight.
I need to sleep.
Once Elizabeth has stopped making noises, I sit in complete silence for a while. And then, slowly, I begin to realize that perhaps Robert has been too quiet for the past few minutes. I reach into my pocket and take out the flashlight that Carter gave me, and then finally I haul myself up and head over to make sure that Robert's still restrained. After a few steps I switch the flashlight on, and I quickly pick out Robert's startled face.
He's trying to break the ropes with his foot.
“Oh look,” he says gruffly, “it's the guard-dog.”
“You need to just calm down,” I tell him, “or -”
“Stop shining that fucking thing right in my eyes!”
I lower the flashlight's beam a little.
“You need to calm down,” I explain. “I'm sorry Carter knocked you out, but we couldn't let you kill Elizabeth.”
I wait for an answer, but he's staring at me as if I'm completely insane.
“There's still a chance!” I say firmly. “Musgrave's smart. I mean, Carter says he is, which is enough for me. And it's not like there's any other hope.”
Again I wait, and again he simply stares at me.
“If she dies,” I continue, “then that means Musgrave basically murdered her. And if that's what happens, then I swear I'll make him pay. But while there's even the tiniest bit of hope, I'm gonna give him the chance to save her.”
I wait.
He's still got that look on his face, as if everything I'm saying is just pure bullshit.
“You don't understand,” I add. “If Carter and Musgrave are right, they might be on the verge of saving the whole world. They're not idiots. They're smart and they might actually be able to do this and...”
My voice trails off, and I can't help but feel that I sound crazy.
“I'm going to kill Elizabeth,” Robert says finally, his voice sounding strangely calm and flat, “and then, if I have to, I'm going to kill all the rest of you. I'd prefer to take you back to Boston under arrest, so that you can face justice for your crimes, but -”<
br />
“What crimes?” I ask.
“For a start, it seems like your friend Elizabeth has been murdered,” he continues, “and that you're involved in it somehow. Just because the corpse is walking around and growling at people, that doesn't make her any less dead. And then there's the fact that I was assaulted by your buddy Carter. We're re-starting civilization in Boston, and part of that means making sure that people obey the law. Right now, I want nothing more than to frog-march the lot of you back there and testify about whatever the hell you're doing.”
“We're not doing anything wrong,” I reply, “we -”
“Save it for your trial.”
Sighing, I realize that he's twisted my words around. I'm not even on Musgrave and Carter's side, yet here I am defending them. I hesitate, trying to figure out how I can explain myself, but then I tell myself that there's no point. Hopefully Robert will see for himself, in the morning, that Elizabeth can be cured, and then I doubt he'll still be going on about arrests and trials.
“Try to get some sleep,” I tell him, as I switch off the flashlight and start walking away. “Tomorrow's going to be a long day.”
Thomas
“Hold her tight!” Musgrave hisses, as Carter and I continue to pull Elizabeth against the tree with ropes on her wrists. “She looks like she can still wriggle free!”
I pull harder, while telling myself that I don't need to worry about hurting her. Snarling and grunting, Elizabeth is like a wild animal as she's pressed face-first against the tree, and I can't help but notice that in the cold light of morning she looks paler and sicker than ever.
“Get on with it!” Carter snaps.
