The 40th Day (After the Cure Book 5)

by Gould, Deirdre

“Yeah,” said Melissa, “at least, I am. Vincent’s theory is that anyone that was infected in the City should be showing symptoms by now, so they’ll know. We’re just hoping they didn’t infect anyone else, but that’s why Vincent’s waiting for a week or two, to make sure no one else starts turning. But I know how desperate people can be to avoid illness. They’ll deny it until the bitter end. I saw it last time too.”

  “You saw it? Thought you were a mailman— lady. Mailperson.”

  “I was, had my own walking route for years.”

  “So how come you didn’t get sick first? You talk to all those people every day, you’d think you’d catch it before anyone else. I was in prison, that’s how I avoided it as long as I did.”

  Melissa sighed. “I don’t think it had anything to do with what I did. In fact, I probably caused more infection than I prevented.”

  “How would you cause more infection?”

  She shook her head. “It’s a long story.”

  Rickey pointed up at the distant mountain. “We got time,” he said.

  “Why do we all have to trade sob stories, huh? Why do we need to know the dark, dirty past of everyone left?” she snapped.

  Rickey held up his hands. “Whoa, I didn’t mean to pry. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I just thought that’s what friends did, shared each other’s lives. I don’t know what you did Before and to be honest, I don’t really care because I like who you are now. But I felt better after telling Henry what happened to me. I thought you might feel the same.”

  Melissa was quiet for a long moment. “I guess you’re right. You really want to hear this?”

  He nodded and watched her as the trail steepened and they began to climb.

  “Honestly, I think it was just dumb luck that I didn’t get sick very early. I had a pretty rural route. It didn’t go quite as far as our farm, but I’d subbed that route before. It was close. Most of the people I delivered to were farmers or retired. They didn’t go to town much and since it was winter, they didn’t visit much either. If it had been summer, or even a few weeks closer to the holidays, things might have been much different. But nobody got sick at first. The office heard rumors from other branches of course, but they were confused, muddy. You see some weird things delivering mail, believe me.”

  Rickey snorted. “I bet,” he said.

  “So hearing that another postman got bit by a patron wasn’t really that unusual. But it kept happening and by the time the fourth or fifth report came in, it was on the news too. I came in one morning, it was the day before the airport shut down.”

  Rickey shrugged. “I don’t remember that part, but I wasn’t watching the news at that point.”

  “It was late. When things started to fall apart and the hospitals started getting overrun. The national guard was already coming in. Anyway, I came in to the office to pick up the day’s bins and the post master just had this little messenger bag filled with these bright yellow sheets of paper. They were evacuation orders, just photocopied, not even personalized. He said we were going to deliver them and we would be escorted by some soldiers. When we were done, we were to follow the order ourselves. They wanted us to report to the local high school. I told the postmaster that most of my route were stubborn old farmers. They’d never leave their homes. He told me that was what the soldiers were for. I think that’s when I knew this was different. It wasn’t just some riot on television or someone else’s problem. It was real. Picking up that bag of evacuation orders was like stepping out of my life into someone else’s.”

  “You were scared? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you scared,” said Rickey, serious for once.

  “After that— I’m not certain what could be scary again. Not even waking up. Not even seeing the aftermath. It had all already happened in my head when I picked up that bag. Those soldiers were proof that everything I knew, everything I depended on, had failed. That order and civilization were over. Because I knew they’d shoot whoever didn’t comply. And knowing they’d do it was as bad as seeing it done. But there was nothing else to do. I picked up the bag and got into the car. Three military trucks followed me. Any house that was empty, I left an order tacked to their door and an armed soldier stood there and waited. I don’t know how long. Most people were home, though. Some of them cried. Some of them yelled. They all asked me what was going to happen and none of them believed me when I told them I didn’t know any more than they did.

  “There was this one woman, Judy. She used to bake me cookies every year as a Christmas present. She had dozens of grandkids. Her husband was out when we came, their heating oil had run out and he’d gone to get some kerosene to get them through until delivery. Fifteen, twenty minutes away at the most. She begged to wait for him, so they could go to the school together. She was afraid he’d worry or that if he came to the school he wouldn’t be able to find her in the crowd. The soldiers wouldn’t let her. She begged me for help, and I tried to talk to the sergeant but he said his orders were strict and they were for the sake of everyone. He promised to leave a soldier behind to bring her husband in, but she was inconsolable. I helped her write a note to him and tacked it to their door along with the order and got her into the truck. Each household was only allowed a few moments to pack up a change of clothes and lock their doors. The soldiers assured everyone they would be screened for the disease and then allowed to leave if they chose, so nobody packed for more than a few nights. Still, it took us hours to get through all the houses on my route. It was late evening by the time we pulled up to the school, and heavy snow was making it hard to drive by then. The lot was a slushy mess and there were trucks everywhere. People yelling and jostling each other. I wanted to hang back, wait for it to clear out a little, but a soldier walked up to my car and demanded the keys.

  ‘I’m with the post office,’ I said, ‘I’m supposed to have it.’

  ‘You aren’t in trouble,’ he said, though he sounded angry and tired, ‘I’m just going to park it in the far lot so traffic doesn’t get backed up in this one. You can go in with the others. Don’t worry, it’s only for a few hours.’ He smiled as if it would make me feel better, but it was an automatic smile. A movement of muscles and nothing more. His eyes darted back and forth the whole time he was speaking to me, as if he were checking for danger everywhere and his hands never left his gun. I got out and gave him the keys. What could I do?”

  “I would have expected you to slug him. Or plan a midnight escape,” offered Rickey.

  “I wasn’t the same then. I believed they were there to help. I believed them when they said it was just for an hour or two. I believed if you followed the rules and did what you were told, that’s what kept us stuck together, what kept us all peaceful and friendly instead of crazed animals. I think they believed it too. We all know better now.” Melissa fell silent as they wound through thick brush and small saplings began to crowd in around the dirt trail. The sun was beginning to set and Rickey glanced back toward the Cured Colony. All he could see was thick forest. A few hundred feet farther up, he might be able to see the small flickers of light, the thin gray line of the wall curling around the front like a shell. But they’d camp without those little reassurances, he knew. They reached the edge of a small pond. Little more than a puddle where the water of a stream hesitated before plunging into the rock below. The grass gave way to damp, dark moss and a few crab apple trees bent and twisted over their reflection. Rickey flopped down beside one without speaking, afraid Melissa would make them push farther if he asked. But she sat beside him, picking up a small pebble and flicking it over the water, her mind a decade away. “Well? What happened when you got to the school?”

  Melissa roused herself and looked around at him. “I went with the people from my route, we were put into the shop classroom. The soldiers had pushed most of the tools aside to make room for cots but the drill press had been bolted to the floor, I remember it being right in the middle of the shop. It was cold because the floor was concrete a
nd it was separated from the rest of the school in a kind of garage. But they set up large heaters and brought us sandwiches. There must have been hundreds of people, but they were all separated into different classrooms. They said we were scheduled to be tested in the morning. A simple blood test. They told us to get some sleep. Judy, the woman I told you about, she wasn’t able to sleep. She’d wander to the windows every so often and then sit on her cot. I went and sat with her.

  ‘They probably just let him sleep there tonight, he’ll be here in the morning, I’m sure,’ I told her, but the truth was, I had no idea what was happening. But that’s how society’s supposed to work, you know? You follow the rules, you pay your taxes, you work your shift and everything is supposed to turn out all right. She patted my hand and looked worried. I got her to lie down for a few moments and asked one of the soldiers if there was a way to give her a sedative. That was the one thing they had the whole time, plenty of sedatives. It should have scared me, that all they wanted was to keep us calm. But at the time, I thought they were just prepared. I went to sleep after a long while too, listening to people mumble around me. Every cough or sneeze made us all jump, we’d seen enough on the news to know it was an illness, but the symptoms weren’t really agreed on yet. And it was December, almost everyone had a cold.

  “Morning came at last, but there was no word about our testing and no move to send us home. Some cold cereal and fruit was brought in and the kids pushed the cots to the edges of the room so they could play games in the middle. The adults sat drinking cup after cup of coffee and looking out the window. The soldiers changed and they finally brought Judy’s husband. But he was slow, clumsy. Almost like he was drunk. And there was some argument outside the shop before they brought him in. I didn’t know it then, but I think they were arguing about whether we were already infected or if he’d infect us all. Finally, in the afternoon, they had us all line up and they walked us across the parking lot to the cafeteria. The sun was out and I remember it felt good to breathe the fresh air after being closed in the shop for so long. In the cafeteria, the mood was different. The soldiers there wore biosuits. They had big plastic masks, even the ones who were just standing guard. It took a long time, but they finally took my blood and then sent us all back to the shop.

  “The soldiers who were with us apologized and said the lab was backed up and it was going to be a few days to get the results. People started to be upset. They wanted to call relatives, to watch the news. I wanted to call Ben, make sure he wasn’t somewhere even worse. What harm would it do to let their loved ones know that they were okay? But all the requests were refused. We asked for someone in charge to come talk to us, to tell us what was going on. The soldiers said maybe someone would come talk to us that night. They changed again. This time, a few of the soldiers were slurring. I thought they were drinking too. But Judy’s husband was still erratic, hours after he ought to have recovered. I didn’t connect them at the time. I just thought they were cracking under pressure or something. There was nothing to do except wait and worry. Even the kids got tired as the novelty wore off. We all just kind of sat. Occasionally someone would ask a soldier for an update, but it was always the same. Someone would come to talk with us soon. We just had to be patient.

  “Late in the afternoon, maybe three or four, one of the little boys stole a stuffed animal from another little girl. He wanted her to chase him, they were just playing. They were running in circles, both laughing, but the little boy accidentally bumped into one of the cots. It was the one Judy’s husband was napping on. He sat up with this— this roar, as if he’d been injured, though nothing had hurt him. The kids ran back to their parents and Judy patted her husband on the shoulder, trying to calm him down. Everyone was so quiet, as if we’d been waiting for it. As if it were the first crack of thunder from a sky that had been darkening for hours. Judy’s husband started swearing about the kids, getting more and more agitated. This was a man who had several of his own. Who’d played Santa for years at the town holiday parties. He loved kids. The boy that bumped into him had probably been to his house trick or treating for years. But he just kept yelling, getting louder and meaner. And his words were more and more indistinct. I could see some of the soldiers watching him. Finally, two of them walked over to him and tried to take him out of the shop. Judy started crying and a few of the other adults started asking where they were taking him, but the soldiers wouldn’t answer. Then a man nudged me. He said I was the closest thing they had to an official representative. I guess because I’d delivered the evacuation orders, I don’t know. He thought the soldiers would listen to me and asked me to talk to them. I told him I didn’t know anything more than he did, but he insisted. So I approached the soldiers who were struggling with Judy’s husband.

  ‘Back off!’ one of them yelled.

  ‘Look,’ I said, ‘you’ll get a lot more cooperation if you just tell us what’s going on. Why don’t you make everyone’s life easier and just give us some information.’

  The two soldiers exchanged glances over the back of the wriggling man between them.

  ‘What are we going to do with it anyway? It’s not like we can leave and go screaming it to the hills. We have no vehicles, it’s freezing out there, and we’re trapped in here. Nobody’s going to care if you tell us, but it will make us more at ease,” I said.

  One of the soldiers nodded and reached down for his radio. I don’t know if they’d encountered an Infected before, but Judy’s husband felt the hold on him loosen and wrestled free. He turned on the soldier and tried to bite his arm through the heavy uniform sleeve of his jacket. The soldier shoved him off with the side of his weapon and Judy’s husband growled and pivoted. Judy was standing next to him, still trying to calm him down. I was a few feet away. I saw him stumble a step toward her and lean in. I thought he was going to hug her, but he bit her neck instead. She screamed and the soldiers tried to pull him off. I saw a few of the other soldiers step forward. One of them began yelling for someone to shoot Judy’s husband. But they were still trying to separate Judy from his mouth. She was bleeding everywhere and other people started screaming. More soldiers rushed in to help. I backed up, trying to get out of the way, but I backed into the drill press. It was cold. I remember thinking that. Really cold even through my clothes. There were four or five soldiers tackling Judy’s husband and another trying to stop her bleeding. Another one was just standing there, watching me. Just staring. I stared back, not sure what he wanted. I shuffled around the edge of the drill press so it was between us. Almost everyone else was huddled in a far corner so there was nobody who could help. He kept staring and I could see him start to pant. His chest just kept heaving in and out. I knew what was coming. I don’t know how I knew, but I did. Animal instinct maybe. I could tell I was prey. So I hit the button on the side of the drill press and it started to spin. The soldier jumped at me but a kept the press between us.

  ‘What do you want?’ I yelled.

  The soldier opened his mouth as wide as it would go and shrieked. Just this shrill, unending yell. He reached for me and I froze for a second. Just froze, everything ached to run away but I couldn’t. His hand closed on my arm and it was like a spell breaking. I didn’t even think about it, I just yanked the arm that was grabbing me over the press. It had one of those big turning wheel things. It moved so easily. I spun it and held it as the press chewed through the man’s uniform and into his arm. It whined and jerked but the bit tore through everything. I thought that would be it. That he’d yell louder and pull back or stop. But it was like he didn’t even feel it. He reached for me with his other arm. I jumped backward. He still tried to reach me, one arm still pinned in the press, the drill bit was buried and the motor was starting to slow down as bits of him splashed up into it and stuck. And then the shooting started. I crawled under one of the cots but there really was nowhere to hide. At first, it was just Judy’s husband and the soldier in the drill press. But some of them thought Judy would turn and anyone else that had
been bitten. They shot her too, and yanked me out from under the cot. I told them I hadn’t been bitten but they didn’t believe me. They made me strip to check.

  “After several minutes another group of soldiers showed up, these ones in the biohazard suits. They’d heard the gunshots. I was allowed to get dressed again and we were all moved into the school. We were put in the gym with hundreds of others then and someone set up a mic at one end. I stayed near the back. I didn’t want to be there anymore. Not if they were going to start shooting us. I could see some others had the same idea, a small knot of people was growing nearby. I could see a few lighters passing between hands and a few odd wrenches and hammers emerged from a tool box hidden near the bleachers. I should have volunteered, but I stayed separate. I just wanted to see what was going to happen. I still wasn’t ready to break the rules. I still wasn’t ready to fight the people who were supposed to protect me. Finally, someone appeared at the podium on the far side of the gym. The knot of people dissolved and inched their way forward into the crowd. I stayed on the edge, still trying to find a way to make a break for the door, but the soldiers filed in and surrounded us.

  “I saw a kid slip behind the bleachers and I made my way over as quietly as I could. I don’t know if any of the soldiers saw me, but nobody followed. There was very little room, but I managed to wriggle into the space behind the wood. It creaked with the weight of dozens of people. A few kids peeked out the other end. I stayed in the middle, watching the light shift through the cracks where feet shuffled. It was hot and the adrenaline from the fight in the shop was gone. The soldier at the front kept talking but I was too far to hear what he was saying. It didn’t matter anyway, I was certain it was just the same spiel we’d heard before. I fell asleep for a little, waking up to more growling above me. There were a few bangs as things hit the boards above me and then a steady stream of dark blood that spattered onto the shining waxed floor. I shuffled myself sideways to avoid it, flinching as pounding footsteps converged above me. There were several gunshots and then a surge of voices mixed in. The kids at the end of the bleacher sprinted into the open, calling for their parents. It was pure chaos. Screaming and pounding and gunfire. I heard someone yelling ‘cease fire’ over and over but it didn’t stop. Some of the boards over my head splintered as bullets tore them apart and the electric light of the gym poured through like an obscene mirror ball. I cowered there for several minutes. It felt like hours, but it couldn’t have been long. Until it was quiet again. The air was smoky and smelled like fireworks. I wriggled out from behind the bleachers and stood up.”