“What?” She looked up, confounded.
“They turn within seconds of being bitten. You mentioned that yourself. It’s why they populated so quickly.” Her lips pursed. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, Beverly?” I didn’t need her freaking out on me, on any of us. “Harrison hasn’t turned. He isn’t infected. His blood is clean.”
With perfect timing, the anchor’s voice started up again. “If you see anyone with the following signs, contact the number at the bottom of your screen immediately; Listlessness. Disorientation. Rage. Unattended wounds.”
Beverly pulled out her phone and punched in the number, and I didn’t stop her. She wasn’t calling about Harrison but about the multitudes of others surrounding our school. I knew this when she didn’t back away from Harrison or even give him another glance. Of course, I also knew it wasn’t because I’d said so. She’d never take my word for it. Her behavior was more of a sign of agreement. She disregarded Harrison as a threat because she’d seen the confirmation for herself yesterday when the attack first took place. I noticed the memories of it rush back during her stupor a few seconds ago, and somewhere within them she recalled seeing someone turn almost instantly like the woman had in the staircase of Harrison’s apartment building.
A busy signal pulsed loudly through Beverly’s phone and into the room. She exhaled in frustration and dialed the number again. “What is it with no one answering their phones today?”
On the surface it seemed like a ludicrous question, but really what she was asking was: ‘Why this? Why today? Why us?’ We were all pondering the same questions, though she asked them with a lot less patience.
The news channel blinked without warning, the image warbled, and pinched to a sliver before going entirely black. None of us said a word, but there was a heavy uneasiness in the air, as if our hope had been snuffed out along with the image. I had an incredibly strong urge to take Harrison’s hand, which was unusual. I wasn’t the type to rely on others. Combine resources, sure. Develop strategic allies, yeah. But look to someone else for emotional support? No way, especially not from someone who had denied me earlier in the day.
“We’ll check back later,” Harrison suggested. “See if they come on again.”
“Right,” I agreed and headed for the door.
Beverly’s voice stopped me a foot away from it. “Can we finish now? Or do you want to just walk around with that thing hanging from you?” She narrowed her gaze to the needle and thread dangling from Harrison’s forearm.
He lifted his limb to her and let her finish right where he stood. As he did, his eyes settled on me, stirring me again. There was restlessness in them, the kind present when someone is on high alert. They were talking to me, telling me not to worry. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. We were in this deep but whatever it took, whatever sacrifice he needed to make, he’d get it done.
“There,” Beverly announced, snipping the thread free. “You’ll need to keep the stitches dry for 24 hours, after that you can begin gently washing it up to two times per day. If redness goes beyond the edge of the wound, tell me immediately. If you have a fever over 100 degrees, tell me immediately. If you have any odd coloring or discharge from the wound, tell me immediately.”
I wondered what she would do if any of those issues did actually occur.
“Here’s your ointment.” She slapped a tube into his hand. “And here’s your antibiotics.” She slapped an orange plastic container into his hand. “Use them.”
“I will,” he affirmed, and then his voice changed, taking on an almost paternal undertone. “Now remove your gloves and go wash your hands with soap and water.”
“I know,” she chastised before spinning around and heading into Mr. Packard’s personal bathroom, the one he had installed only a week ago. I doubt he had ever expected a student to use it.
The awkwardness of that realization swallowed me whole. I didn’t even notice that Harrison’s focus was still on me.
“Are you all right?”
Coming to, I laughed through my nose. “That’s what I should be asking you.”
He gave me an observant smile. “You look…tired.”
“Thanks…,” I said wryly.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
He was correct. I did. “I am tired, an anxious tired.”
He nodded, and I got the impression he wanted to come to me, but he stayed planted in place. “You have reason to be.”
Beverly came back into the room, but neither of us broke our stare. She sensed something was going on but didn’t seem to care enough to meddle, which surprised me. Apparently, returning to the rest of our group took precedence over gossip, which would be a first for her. “You ready?” she asked. “I’m not walking the halls alone, you know.”
“Yeah,” Harrison said stiffly, tearing his eyes from me. “We’re ready.”
We walked back to find that the sunlight had almost disappeared. I figured from the hazy glow through the glass doors that the street lights were already on. The three of us joined Doc and Mei in a group on the tile, our backs to the lockers. I couldn’t help but notice that Harrison chose to sit directly across from me.
Beverly stared desperately at the glass leading to the outside, and I could see that she was wishing her father would appear in it. “What are those things?” she asked.
“You need to stop calling them things,” Mei said sharply.
She made a good point. Those things were our friends and teachers, our neighbors. The importance of this, however, was entirely lost on Beverly.
“Well, what would you like me to call them?” she snapped.
After an awkward pause, Doc said, “Roamers?”
And that started the game of “Name That Thing” with us tossing out suggestions to see which one would stick.
“Eaters?”
“Biters?”
“Psychotic cannibals?”
Harrison was the only one who didn’t throw one out there.
Beverly rolled her eyes. “How about we not beat around the bush? Let’s just call them what they are, huh? They’re infected, right? So let’s call them that. Plain and simple. The Infected.”
“Okay, Plain and Simple The Infected it is. A little long, though, don’t you think?” Doc said and we gave him a strange look. “Kidding, I was just kidding. Geez.”
“The Infected,” Beverly reiterated for some measure of permanence.
The rest of us looked at each other, saw no opposition, and agreed, right before the reality of our situation settled over us. We were five seniors stuck inside our high school during an epidemic outbreak. Conversation from then on came in brief spurts and remained on strictly insignificant topics. It started off with Harrison, who sensed the need for something light, asking what book Beverly was reading. That turned into what we read for pleasure, non-assigned reading, which then turned into what we did for fun. Doc played Xbox, Mei baked cakes, and Beverly flipped through clothing catalogs. No one seemed to notice that Harrison and I refrained from including details about what we did in our free time, which was just fine with me, and I was sure Harrison felt the same.
Eventually someone yawned and even though sleep wasn’t directly on the horizon for any of us, we had reached the end of a long day, longer than any of us could have foreseen.
“I’ll take night watch,” Harrison offered and no one argued.
“Here,” I said, pulling the key ring from my waist. “You might need these.”
“Thanks.” He stooped to take them, his eyes boring into me, assessing me. When he stood again, he addressed the group. “Get some rest. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I settled my head back against the hard locker, unsure if I could fall asleep at all. But I closed my eyes anyways and found the image of Harrison pinned inside them, his darkly serious blue eyes fixed on me as he made his promise of safety and security. And I knew, with absolute confidence, despite his earlier warning that he’d be keeping hi
s distance, he was speaking directly to me.
~ 4 ~
WHEN I WOKE UP THE NEXT morning, two things registered with me right away. First, I was still alive. Second, I had actually been able to fall asleep. When I opened my eyes and found Doc’s head cranked to the side, his snores rumbling up from his throat to tremble his lips and fill the hallway, I realized I hadn’t been the only one. Mei was next to him, her head tipped onto his meaty shoulder, arms daintily crossed in front of her. Beverly lay on her side, curled against the lockers, her hands stacked between her head and the tile floor.
A quick survey of the hall gave me two more pieces of information. Harrison wasn’t around but my steel throwing star was. He’d left it, cleaned once again, next to my hip where I wouldn’t miss it when I woke up. The faintest of smiles lifted my lips and then the memories of the day before rushed back to me, bringing with them a shudder. To divert my thoughts, I stood and slipped the star in my back pocket before strolling to the glass doors. Old Boy was still parked at the gate’s entrance, looking beaten up and lonely. The Infected were moseying around the parking lot, although more of them had come to join the feast. I figured they were driven by the smell of flesh, which thankfully hadn’t made its way inside the school yet. Some of them were still hunched over their previous bedfellows’ victims, enjoying sloppy seconds. I was glad I couldn’t identify any of them, living or dead. Billows of smoke twirled into the clear blue sky in the distance confirming that things were still happening beyond the gates of our school. I wondered if anyone was still out there, looking back in our direction while pondering the same question. With only one way to find out, I spun around and walked back down the hall. As I passed the other survivors who hadn’t stirred yet, I hoped their dreams and sleep were more peaceful than mine had been. Brushing aside the second round of unsettling thoughts this morning, I made my way to Mr. Packard’s office. Before I entered, I was met with the intermittent bursts of static as someone was flipping through the channels.
Harrison sat on the desk, although he’d respectfully moved Mr. Packard’s cushiony leather desk mat aside before taking a seat. His hand was extended toward the flat screen TV, his thumb repeatedly hitting the channel button on the remote control. He looked at me in the doorway, scrutinizing me from head to toe.
“I’m still human,” I informed him, half joking.
He broke into a slight smile. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I said, noticing neither of us added ‘good’ to the greeting.
I stopped next to him with my head turning toward the TV as it came into view.
“The president and his cabinet have gone into hiding,” he said in a detached manner, as if he’d expected it to happen. “The stations keep playing his message in a loop. I’m guessing the news crews have gone home to be with their families.”
“I’m surprised the Emergency Broadcast System isn’t on.”
“I don’t think they had time to flip that particular switch.”
There was pragmatism in his tone and expression, a complacent acceptance of our situation. I was left a little more bothered. No more news meant no more information. I didn’t want to be an alarmist, but that could lead to the downfall of our society. Wait, hadn’t that already happened?
“Good evening, Fellow Americans,” the President’s voice came on and both our heads whipped back to the TV.” This is not a time for rhetoric, so you’ll hear no prose from me tonight on my confidence in the future of our nation. While it will prevail, we must keep our mind on the situation we find ourselves in now. This is not a message of happiness or reassurance, but it is the truth. We are in the midst of a crisis unlike anything our nation has ever faced before. Rest assured that every resource, every facility, every piece of equipment, and all personnel, military and civilian, are being utilized. Find a safe place. Hunker down. Lock your doors. Wait for an emergency crew to arrive.” The President’s eyes traveled to someone behind the camera and then back to us. “Good night and God bless.” He was already darting from his chair before the video cut out. “…Good evening, Fellow Americans…” and the loop began again.
I took a seat next to Harrison as he resumed flipping through the channels. “We need to check the perimeter, make sure it’s still secure.”
His thumb paused and he smiled to himself. “That’s right. Your dad was military.”
“Navy SEAL. I don’t want to do it alone, but if you need sleep-”
“No,” he replied adamantly, already sliding off the desk. “No, I’ll go with you.”
That was a relief. I had no interest in doing it myself.
We left the administration offices and entered the hall where I asked, “How did you know about my dad? Being in the military?”
Harrison strolled next to me, his eyes straightforward, not deviating from our route ahead. “He was, though, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, but how did you know?”
“When I first got here, a year ago, you were pretty much all anyone talked about.”
I cringed, noticeably.
In a way that made me think he was reading my thoughts, he added, “I arrived before your dad left.”
I repeated the words in my head. Before he left… “Leaving” implied a choice, which my dad never had. But I knew why Harrison explained it in that way. He was trying to be delicate about my dad’s death for my benefit, and I appreciated it.
To clarify, or to bring me back from my reflection, he continued, “You’d just gone out with MacAvoy, and he sat three rows behind me in Calculus.”
I paused to remember what he was referencing and then a chuckle slipped out. “Oh…”
“When he came in with the bruise, a week after school started, he wouldn’t say who gave it to him.” He shrugged. “But the secret was already out. His friend…Jorge?”
“George,” I corrected.
“George made sure everyone knew.” Harrison laughed lightly to himself.
“So how does that explain you knew my dad was in the military?”
“Anyone who could give a guy the size of MacAvoy a bruise like that had been trained, and trained well.”
I had a feeling he was waiting for me to fill him in, to divulge more of my secret, but either he figured I wouldn’t or he didn’t want to pry it from me. He simply kept walking, allowing me the respect of taking disclosure at my own pace. He also didn’t make any teasing, juvenile move like throwing up his hands and saying, “Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!” like other guys had done when they learned about MacAvoy. No, his compliment was sincere, and slowly, my chin tilted higher as a proud, subtle smile crossed my face.
“MacAvoy deserved it,” I stated.
He laughed under his breath. “Oh, I’m sure he did. That was a solid hit. Whatever he tried on you, it wasn’t something you took casually.”
I felt my eyes narrow, remembering MacAvoy’s hand slipping into my pants with his face pressed against mine, using our contact there as an anchor for more control. His kiss was painful, suffocating, and gave me the impression he felt entitled to what he was doing. I communicated – fairly effectively – that he was wrong when my fingertips sunk into his eye sockets, and he pulled away screaming. His scream was cut short by my left elbow slamming into his right eye. There were other injuries I’d left him with during my escape, but I had thought he hid them well enough to pass as normal to anyone not paying attention.
To my surprise, Harrison disproved my theory by asking, “Did you notice he had a limp the week after?”
I let out a loud laugh, which was confirmation enough for Harrison.
Through a grin, he said, “I thought I saw that…”
“When you thought I was underestimating you yesterday, I wasn’t. I have a fairly good understanding of what you are capable of.”
His remark made me think of the little gift he’d left me when I woke up, and I said, “Thanks for my star, by the way.”
He tipped his head in a respectful nod. “You’re welcome.”
/> After a few paces, he leaned in to peer into the first classroom while, down the hallway, I noticed the sunlight filtering across the floor, and I knew he’d left the doors open on his rounds during the night. Seeing no imminent threat, he drew his head back out and continued walking.
“Did you date anyone else here?”
He said this nonchalantly while ducking into the next classroom and surveying it from the doorway. With his back to me, he didn’t see the surprise sweep across my face, but I corrected it by the time he turned around. His expression was curious, about my answer as much as why it took me so long to reply. The truth was, I hadn’t expected that kind of interest from him. He’d made it clear that he would be keeping his distance, and we were in the middle of a pandemic event. By this point, it was obvious that neither of us would be going out on a date any time in the near future, so why would he care?
“No, I didn’t like any of them enough,” I stated.
He nodded, slowly considering what I said before coming to a standstill to inspect the next classroom. This stop included a classroom on my side of the hallway, so I peered in. Desks sat vacant and the whiteboard was wiped clean but remnants of faded blue marker denoted an Algebra problem that hadn’t been entirely erased. There wasn’t, however, any Infected inside.
“How about you?” I asked returning to Harrison in the hallway. “Did you date anyone back in Texas?”
“I was homeschooled until I came here,” he replied gruffly.
“So they didn’t have girls in the town where you lived?” I teased.
He gave me a look that said I wasn’t funny, and then grinned.
“There were girls, just…no one I was interested in.”
I imagined they had an interest in him, though.
“I had enough…opportunities,” he continued, proving me correct. “But…”
When he didn’t finish his sentence, my interest made me press further. “But…?”
“The risk was greater than the reward,” he replied flatly.
“The risk was greater…” I mumbled. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
Haven (Apocalypse Chronicles Part 1) Page 7
