by Amy Cross
She continues to look at the syringe, and then she glances at me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling a flicker of concern. “You're not infecting me with that stuff!”
“Not willing to take one for the team?” She stares at me, and then she smiles. “Relax. No offense, but your impending death probably wouldn't be sufficient motivation. I need to infect the only person I actually care about.”
“I thought you -”
Before I can finish, she turns the needle around and drives it into her own left forearm, and then I watch with horror as she depresses the plunger and injects herself.
“Are you insane?” I stammer. “That's suicide!”
“Not if it makes me work better,” she replies, as she removes the needle. “Now the pressure's really on me, Thomas. Extreme motivation, you might say. Within a few hours, I'll start to show the first symptoms, so I'd better get to work and find that cure, hadn't I?”
She smiles again, but this time I can tell that she's worried.
Without saying another word, she turns and heads back over to one of the benches. I still can't quite believe what she just did, but I guess she's really determined to find this cure. Even if she has to risk her own life. And while I still don't like her methods, I have to admit that Sarah Carter seems to live by the same harsh rules that she imposes on those around her. She'd rather die than fail.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask finally.
“Go and bury Clayborne.”
“But you said -”
“I lied, to shut you up,” she replies. “Do you seriously think that I dug a fucking grave for that asshole? I tossed him on the grass, by now bugs are probably eating him from the inside out. I need time to think down here, so if you really want to help, get out of my hair for a few hours and go bury that mother-fucker.”
Shocked, I don't really know what to say, so I turn to leave the room.
“Oh, and Thomas?”
I glance back, just as she slides an old, slightly rusty-looking handgun toward me across one of the benches.
“What's that for?” I ask.
“I'll work until I can't work any longer,” she replies, and now I can sense fear in her voice. “After that, if I've still failed, I want you to shoot me. Don't let me become one of those things. I'd like to at least have a little dignity at the end.”
“I...
“For a moment, I'm not sure how to respond, but then I realize that I actually understand her request. I reach out and pick up the handgun, and then I check that it's loaded.
“Relax,” Carter says. “I wouldn't set you up to be firing blanks. There are six bullets in that thing. Just make sure that at least one of them blows my head off, okay? When the time comes, I want my brain splattered all across the wall.”
I nod, and then I carry the gun out of the laboratory. As I go up the stairs, I can't help but feel as if time's running out. Carter can't have very long left now, and I have no hope of finishing the cure if I'm the last one left. I just hope that Carter is able to get this job done, and that she develops a cure that'll save not only herself but also Polly and Elizabeth.
And, I guess, the whole world.
Thomas
“Gross,” I mutter under my breath, as I use a long piece of wood to roll Robert Clayborne's body into the shallow grave I've finished digging.
I've been very careful to not touch the corpse, since I can't be sure that he isn't in some way infected. After all, he was killed by three zombies, and I don't want to test my immunity any more than is strictly necessary. Then again, there's very little left of him, and I'd barely have recognized his face if I hadn't been able to make out his right cheek and one side of his scalp. Carter must have really let the zombies feed for a while after I passed out. I almost feel sorry for Robert.
Almost.
Once he's at the bottom of the grave, I toss the wood in after him and then I grab a shovel. I need to get this grave filled in as quickly as possible, and then hopefully nothing will disturb the ground. I'm not sure that the grave is quite six feet, but it's at least five and I figure that should be okay. It's not as if there's much wildlife in the area, so Robert will just rot down there in the darkness. As I shovel in another load of dirt, I finally cover his body entirely, and then I keep working even though my head hurts and my back is starting to ache.
Once I'm done, I realize that I should probably say something to mark the occasion. Mom would definitely want me to give this guy a good Christian burial, even if he was an asshole, although I don't really know the right words.
And then, just as I'm about to try saying something, I realize I can hear a vehicle approaching.
Turning, I see something flashing along the road, coming this way beyond the trees. I hesitate for a moment, before ducking down out of sight. Another truck comes into view, and I know I'm already too late to get back down to Carter. Then again, maybe that would have been my best shot, but it's too late now. The truck parks in front of the building, and several armed men climb out.
Four.
Five.
Six.
There are a lot of them. A dozen, maybe. And I think I recognize one of them...
Suddenly another figure steps out of the truck, and I feel a punch of hope as I realize that I've definitely seen this man before.
“General Patterson!” I call out, getting to my feet and hurrying over toward the truck. I even wave my arms, to make sure that they see me. “It's me! It's Thomas Edgewater!”
He stares at me, as the soldiers aim their guns in my direction.
“It's me!” I shout again, stopping with my hands raised, although I'm starting to think that in all the chaos he doesn't even recognize me. “Thomas Edgewater, Sir. We've met before.”
Patterson stares for a moment longer, and then he gestures for the soldiers to lower their guns.
“A familiar face,” he says dourly. “Well, that's something. But tell me, boy, are you here alone?”
“Carter's down in the laboratory,” I explain, stepping closer, “working on the cure. There was an accident, Doctor Musgrave died, but Carter's working on it and she's almost there. I really think she's going to get it done before the end of the day. I mean, she has to. She's really put some extra pressure on herself.”
“That's good news,” he replies. “Sarah Carter might have a lot of faults, but she's never less than exceptional in a crisis. I knew we'd be able to rely on her.”
He turns and starts making his way toward the front steps.
“Take us to her, kid,” he continues. “I don't have much time. I need to be back in Boston by sundown. We've been mopping up a few enemy soldiers, and I want to personally oversee the next round of executions.”
“Executions?”
I wait, but he doesn't answer.
“What about Toad?” I ask, hurrying after him as the soldiers begin to follow us into the hospital. “Is Toad okay?”
“Who?”
“Toad. My friend. He -”
“I don't know names,” he replies dismissively. “Not of most of the men. We took a lot of casualties, so your buddy has about a fifty-fifty chance of still being alive. That's better odds than the enemy got, though. Most of the soldiers defending Boston were killed, and the survivors and wounded won't last much longer. We're using a zero-tolerance policy to make sure that everyone knows where they stand. Traitors and enemies will be killed.”
“Okay, but -”
“You're not a traitor, boy, are you?”
Stopping, he turns to me.
I hesitate for a moment, before turning and seeing the armed soldiers right behind me. For a few seconds, I feel as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting to hear my answer.
“No,” I stammer finally. “I'm on -”
“That's good to hear.”
With that, Patterson turns and heads into the hospital, only to stop again as he sees the derelict reception area.
“This place looks like a
bomb hit it,” he mutters. “I knew Carter had found somewhere she could hide away, but I didn't think she'd gone to quite such extreme lengths. Then again, she was never much one for creature comforts. She was always the kind of person who'd prefer to live all alone in a room with a computer, and just communicate with the outside world via email. I hope she's really got the cure figured out this time. She has a habit of making promises she can't keep.”
“I'll take you to her,” I reply, before leading him through the various rooms that lead toward the hidden door.
Patterson doesn't speak as we walk. I know he's on Carter's side, but something about him is starting to freak me out a little. By the time we reach the door, which I have to carefully open, I'm having to really remind myself that Patterson is on our side, that he's not some crazed madman like Clayborne.
“So are you sure you don't know about Toad?” I ask as I lead Patterson and the soldiers down the stairs. “He's kinda tall, with -”
“I have no idea who you're talking about.”
“Maybe one of your -”
“Let's focus on what's important,” he adds, cutting me off for what feels like the hundredth time since he arrived. “You'll have plenty of time to ask around, once you're back with the unit. Why didn't you come with us to Boston, by the way? You didn't abandon the cause at the final moment, did you?”
“No!” I blurt out. “I had a problem with my truck, and then...”
I think back to the sight of McGuinness the other night, stumbling in the rain.
“It's complicated,” I continue. “I was coming, but I kept getting stopped by things. I was going to fight, though. I swear.”
“That's good to hear. We don't like people who run from a fight.”
Before I can reply, we reach the door that leads into the laboratory and I see that Carter is furiously making some notes. She has her back to us, and I might be imagining things but I swear I can hear that her breaths sound a little more labored, as if the sickness has begun to take hold. I haven't mentioned anything to Patterson about the fact that she's not well, but I guess that's something she can tell him herself.
So far, however, she doesn't even seem to have noticed that we're here. I can hear her muttering under her breath, too, and for a moment she seems almost insane. And then, suddenly, I notice several vials on one of the benches, containing something that looks like milk.
“Carter,” Patterson says loudly, “what -”
“Quiet, idiot!” she snaps, not even bothering to turn and look at us. “Or do you want me to forget everything I've just achieved?”
“Have you done it?” I ask, taking a step forward. “Have you finished the cure?”
I wait, but she doesn't say a word. I can hear the nib of her pen scratching against the paper, and I can't help but look over at the milky vials. Then I look at the paper again and I see scrawled, barely legible notes covering the entire page.
“Have you given it to Elizabeth yet?” I ask.
“Does the cure work, Carter?” Patterson asks. “I'm ordering you to give me an answer.”
“Does the cure work, Carter?” she replies, her voice mimicking his tone. “Granted, Musgrave did most of the heavy lifting, but I'm the one who put all the pieces together. It was like someone doing a jigsaw puzzle and not realizing how to connect all the work he'd done so far. There's not even a -”
“Does the cure work, Carter?” Patterson asks again.
“It's remarkable,” she continues. “The pathway to full recovery isn't clear at the moment, not in terms of the timeline. It's possible that her relative youth allowed me to reinvigorate some of her -”
“Does it work?” Patterson snaps angrily. “Give me a yes or no answer!”
He waits.
We all wait.
And then, suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby, and I turn to see Polly standing in the arched doorway.
She looks completely fine. Scared, traumatized even, but fine.
“Where's Daddy?” she asks, her voice trembling with fear. “Is he... Where's Daddy? I want to see Daddy.”
“It does work,” I whisper, feeling a rush of relief as I realize that Elizabeth can be saved too. I turn to Carter and see that she's still scribbling on the pieces of paper, and then I turn to Patterson. “She was sick,” I stammer. “The girl, I mean. I saw it with my own eyes, she was sick just a few hours ago and now she looks fine.”
“You can bet your saggy old ass it works,” Carter says, sounding pretty pleased with herself. “You didn't ever doubt that, did you? I thought you knew me better than that.”
Patterson stares past me, still watching Polly as if he can barely believe what he's seeing.
“Gentlemen,” he says finally, turning to the soldiers, “I need a moment alone with Doctor Carter and her friends. I'll be up shortly.”
The soldiers head out of the room, and a moment later I hear them making their way up the stairs. Something about Patterson's expression is making me really worried now, and when I turn to Carter I see that she's still working at one of the benches. Ever since we came down here, she hasn't looked at us, not even once. Occasionally she reaches out and grabs another sheet of paper, and I can't help noticing that her hands looks a little pale and sweaty, as if the effects of the sickness are really starting to take hold.
“So we're done here, right?” I say cautiously. “Where's Elizabeth? Is she recovering?”
“What have you got there?” Patterson asks, stepping past me and heading over to the bench, where he stops for a moment and watches as Carter finishes writing her notes. “Your handwriting is a mess, Carter, but I can just about read what you've written.”
“Here,” she says finally, pushing the pieces of paper toward him before stumbling to her feet and taking a step back. Her eyes are wild and filled with fear. “That's everything we need, in order to replicate the cure. We've done it, Bill. We've saved the world.”
“And it's that... stuff?” he asks looking over at the vials.
“I'd explain the chemical compounds if I thought you'd understand,” Carter replies, before turning to me. She looks so sick. “I'm sure you have some lackeys who'll be able to understand my genius. If not, get some, because you'll need to produce this substance in vast quantities. The hardest part will be finding the raw materials, but that's not an insurmountable problem.”
“Where's Elizabeth?” I ask, taking a step toward her. “You've given her the cure already, right? Tell me she's better now.”
“I tried it on the kid first,” she replies, glancing at Polly. “I figured she was the best test subject, seeing as how there's no-one left who cares about her.”
“Where's Daddy?” Polly asks.
“It was so hard, coming up with the solution,” Carter continues. “At first, I couldn't work out what I was doing wrong. The puzzle just seemed to be always pushing back, but then I had one of my strokes of brilliance and I realized that actually I just had to reverse the -”
Suddenly a gunshot rings out, and we both turn to see that Patterson has shot one of the vials. Before Carter can reach him, he shoots the others, sending the milky substance dribbling down to the floor.
“Are you insane?” Carter snaps, hurrying toward him. “There's no -”
He turns and fires again, blasting her in the belly and sending her thudding down to the floor with a pained gasp.
“What are you doing?” I shout.
I rush forward, but Patterson turns and aims the gun at me. I duck down just as he fires, and the bullet misses by just a few inches as I fall behind one of the other benches.
“This cure is a very powerful thing,” he says calmly. “In the wrong hands, it could be used for some very destructive purposes. I think it's better if we take care to limit access to the papers, and to the substance itself. After all, someone has to decide who gets to take the cure and who... Well, not everyone is deserving of a fresh chance, right? You said it yourself, Carter. There are too many people on this planet, or there wer
e before everything went to shit. Let's be careful about how many we bring back.”
Suddenly Carter crawls around the nearest corner and leans against the side of the bench. She's clearly in pain, and blood is gushing from the wound just above her waistline.
“Fucking asshole!” she mutters under her breath. “What the fuck is wrong with people?”
She turns to me, and I can see that she's struggling to stay conscious.
Reaching into her pocket, she takes out a small box and hands it to me. As she does so, the lid opens slightly and I spot three small vials of the cure. I close the lid and look at Carter, and she nods solemnly at me as if she expects me to know what I'm supposed to do next. A moment later, hearing Patterson coming over toward the bench, I pull back, and Carter waves me away.
Just as Patterson steps into view, I crawl behind another bench and then I lean back out and see him towering above Carter.
“I want to commend you on your usefulness,” he tells her, as he aims the gun at her face. “As a reward, I promise that the world will never get to hear about your awful experiments, and about the terrible crimes you've committed in the pursuit of the cure. I'll just let your name fade from knowledge.”
“Oh,” she replies, her voice trembling slightly as she stares up at him, “a betrayal. How terribly -”
Suddenly the gun fires, blasting her in the face and sending her slumping down as blood sprays against the nearest wall.
Thomas
I pull back out of sight, horrified by what I just saw, still holding the box containing the three samples. A moment later, I hear Patterson take a step this way.
I need to get out of here, and I need to get Polly out of here too, but right now I'm not sure how to start.
