by Shana Festa
"I don't like the idea of putting Boss in so much danger. Patrolling the wall is one thing, but there's too many unknown factors in play out there."
My respect for Tom increased every time he made these kind of statements. Most people would be afraid for themselves, but not him. His main priority was the safety of his animal. We were kindred spirits.
"I think it's probably the dumbest idea he's had yet. And that's saying a lot." I had zero respect for Mack and the way he ran Asylum. The man had a blatant disregard for the safety of the Guard.
Tom laughed at my observation. "No disagreements there."
I swallowed the last bit of stew and thought more about what he'd just said. It made no sense why Mack was sending them to the hospital.
"Hold on a minute," I argued. "Why bother? What could he possibly want that we don't already have?"
"I seriously don't know. Maybe he wants more medicines or diagnostic equipment. He didn't tell me any details."
I was getting hot under the collar. "Look around. Do you see any sick people? Because I surely don't." This was it. The moment I potentially went too far. If Tom was sympathetic to Mack and his cause, I was about to hang myself.
"Have you noticed there are no old people in Asylum? What is going on here, Tom? Over two-hundred people and not one person over fifty? I find it hard to believe that's merely a coincidence."
A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his eye, and I knew I'd stumbled onto something important.
"Well?" I prodded.
The door leading from the grand hall opened and a group of kids spilled out, laughing. Lunch was over and it was back to the grind of academia for them. My eyes narrowed at Tom, who looked relieved for the distraction. I stood to leave and pointed a finger at the cop.
"This conversation is not over," I grumbled, and spun on my heels to go back to work.
He caught my arm before I stomped off. "You don't want to go down that road, Emma," he whispered. "Some things are better left to ignorance."
"Sorry, Tom, if nursing school taught me anything, it's to question everything."
* * *
I could set my watch to Jasper's afternoon visits, almost down to the second. Every day after lunch I brought a new load of sheets to hang on the line across from the banyan trees. The trees served as a constant reminder of my experience and I hadn't gotten close to them since.
Daphne was lounging on the grass in front of me. Without raising her head, her tail began to wag as Jasper came up behind me.
"Hi, Emma!" he shouted in his usual greeting.
I smiled, and stood, readying myself for the inevitable bear hug. "Hi, Jasper!"
Once he'd sufficiently crushed my body between his chubby arms, he plopped down on the grass beside Daphne, and chattered away while he pet her. Jasper had an overall lack of finesse when it came to physicality, but his shortcomings seemed to dissolve into nothing when it came to the small dog and he handled her with a fragility I hadn't seen him display with anything else.
Jasper droned on excitedly about his morning; how many zombies he'd cleared from the traps, the size of the bonfire pile, and his observations of the other residents. If there was one thing I knew for certain about the man, it was that he needed a routine, and he was repetitive. Most days I could zone out during these conversations and never miss a beat. Today was one of those days. My mind was still stuck on the hospital run the Guard would be making the following day.
I looked up when Jasper's voice cut off. His eyes were focused on the grass and his shoulders slumped. Daphne's body had gone rigid and her gaze was focused on something behind me. A low growl vibrated from her, and the hair along her spine stood on end like a spiky Mohawk.
"Ahem." The sound of a man clearing his throat from behind me made my blood run cold. I didn't need to look to know Mack was there.
I took a deep, calming breath and put on my fake smile before turning to the vile man.
"Hey, Mack. Lovely day for a stroll?" It was the only thing that I could think to say. Well, that's not really true. It was the only thing I could think of that didn't end in a string of profanities or creative name calling.
"Good morning, Emma," he laid on the southern charm and gave me a practiced smile. We both knew his congeniality was a sham; the only common ground between me and el presidente was a mutual loathing and distrust. "Do you have a moment?"
I stifled my urge to decline, and instead kept the smile plastered on my face. "Of course, what can I do for you, sir?" Okay, so I was still a work in progress. I hadn't yet mastered the art of hiding how I really felt, and a bit of sarcasm escaped at the end of my sentence.
He continued, either not noticing the passive aggressive slight or choosing to ignore it altogether.
"Your medical expertise is needed." His expression lost all pretense, and he looked unsure of himself. He seemed uncomfortable, like he had to poop, and I had to bite my bottom lip not to point it out.
Unfortunately, his statement had me very interested in what he had to say, and I looked back at him expectantly.
"Walk with me," he said. Linking his hands behind his back, he began strolling toward the front wall.
I mimicked his clasped hands and matched his pace while he walked the perimeter of the yard. Minutes passed while he sauntered beside me, chin raised annoyingly high, dragging out the moment like he was building anticipation. Which, of course, he was.
We'd walked the length of the wall, and he turned to stroll the water's edge. My unease grew with each step that brought us closer to the banyan trees, and he knew it. Mack stopped at the break in the wall just before the tree where I'd been attacked a few weeks earlier and peered down his nose at me, refusing to lower his chin.
"I hear you're unhappy with the job assignments," he said in a fatherly voice. The disappointment dripped from every word as he spoke them.
"It is what it is," I replied.
"How would you like the opportunity to do something more appropriate to your skill set?"
I was a smart enough woman to know never to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he definitely had my full attention. "I'm listening," I said, waiting for the catch.
"Tomorrow morning the Guard will be going out on a recovery mission of the utmost importance. I won't lie. It's goin' to be a difficult journey, and one that I wouldn't ask were it not a matter of life and death." He paused again, and looked out over the water.
I fidgeted and shifted my weight from foot to foot, waiting for him to spit it out.
Like a drunk man standing up at an AA meeting to declare he was an alcoholic, he spoke. "I am a diabetic. Type one, insulin dependent." He fixed his steely gaze on me and remained silent, like he had just lobbed a tennis ball into my court and it was my turn to ping it back.
So there it was. The reason he was willing to risk the lives of the Guard, Tom, and now me. I wanted to be angry that he couldn't bring himself to come out and say he personally needed my help, but I knew the man well enough to know he wasn't wired that way. What I was annoyed about was the fact that he thought this was a task more suited to my skill-set. Any trained monkey could read a label and decipher between Novolog and Novolin. I knew Mack felt the last of humanity were a bunch of idiots unworthy to shine his shoes, but this was taking it a bit far.
"Why the hospital?" I asked. "Why not just send a group to the closest pharmacy? They should be well stocked."
"We've already tried that. The drugstore on the corner suffered a fire, and the one on the strip is full of those things." He waved a hand in the direction of University Drive when he said those things, and the corners of his mouth pulled down like he'd swallowed something sour.
I thought about his proposition. My mind was already made up, but I questioned his motives. Clearly, his dream team of scientists and medical geniuses were too valuable to risk on something so dangerous. In fact, I couldn't recall having ever seen them leave the compound. Mack didn't particularly like me and my propensity for vocalizing my
opinions, so I had no delusions of him mourning my death should it come to pass. Yes, I hated laundry duty, and yes, I wanted to use my degree. But the real clincher for me was the opportunity to do something with Jake. Wasn't that a kick in the pants? I was so desperate to spend time with my husband that I'd risk life and limb for a few hair-raising hours of quality time.
"So, how is this more appropriate for my skill set?" I had to ask. Short of being able to pronounce the words on a medicine label, I didn't see much need for a nurse.
Mack didn't miss a beat. He'd already calculated an answer for my question before approaching me.
"It's not this mission itself, but what comes after. Asylum needs a good nurse to keep its residents healthy and happy. Dr. Chen has provided the Guard with a list of supplies to gather so we can put together a clinic. I'd like you to oversee the day-to-day, with Dr. Chen's supervision of course."
"What's the catch?" I asked suspiciously.
"My, you are a skeptical filly, aren't ya?" He raised his hands and patted at the air. "I like that about you, actually. But ya caught me. There is a teensy caveat to all this."
I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to elaborate. Mack had a love for dramatic effect in the form of pregnant pauses. I crossed my arms and began to tap my foot on the grass.
He laughed, and if I didn't know the man, I'd have thought it was from genuine humor.
"Calm your britches, little lady. It's not what you think."
He leaned in, and the smell of Old Spice clogged my nose, giving me the urge to sneeze all over the front of his shirt. The thought made me smile. And my smile broadened when he returned the expression, likely thinking I was allying with him and having no idea I'd been imagining what it would be like to shower him in snot.
"The fine people of Asylum look to me to keep them healthy and safe. They depend on me to have the answers, make the hard choices. What would they think if they knew I could barely keep myself healthy?"
"Um, they'd think your pancreas doesn't produce insulin on its own." His worry was just stupid. A better and far more appropriate question would have been: What would the people of Asylum think if they saw him for the asshole I did?
"I fear not everyone is as accepting of one's flaws as you. So the catch is that you keep this little conversation to yourself. Our community needs stability, and I don't want to shake our people's confidence in my ability to effectively lead them and run this fine country."
"Sure, mum's the word. Your secret is safe with me." I turned to go back to hanging sheets, but stopped, unable to keep my thoughts to myself. "You know, Mack, I think you underestimate our group. And I think your fear is unfounded and shows an overall lack of respect to your fellow countrymen."
I didn't give him a chance to reply and rejoined Jasper and Daphne by the clothesline.
"Sanctimonious prick," I mumbled.
Jasper giggled at my comment. "You're funny, Emma. I dunno what that means, but you said it like a cuss word, all meanlike."
"Can't sneak anything past you, can I, Jas?"
He beamed with pride at the praise. "Nope!"
Chapter 22: Morning Wood
"Jake, I need to talk to you."
I waited behind the big gate for him and the rest of the Guard to get back from a run, like a wartime wife waiting for her husband to return from battle. They pulled up in their fleet of mismatched pickup trucks with beds full of food and other miscellaneous supplies a few minutes before dinner and were unloading the bounty to tote it into the mansion.
"Not now, Emma. I'm busy."
"Come on, Jake, just give me a few minutes. It's important."
"After dinner, I promise," he said hurriedly as he passed by me with a stack of boxes.
I watched his back as he walked away, angry and sad at being blown off for the umpteenth time.
"Argh!" I muttered.
"Trouble in paradise?" The sound of Vance's deep voice startled me, and I clutched my chest.
"Fuck, Vance. You scared the shit outta me. How the hell can a seven-foot man be so good at stealth mode?"
"Didn't I tell you? I used to be a ninja."
"Musta slipped my mind, what with all the important work I've been doing." I rolled my eyes and delivered a healthy dose of sarcasm with my retort.
Vance ignored the comment. Probably a good move on his part. I was just itching for someone to give me the opening I needed for a full-fledged bitch session. Very wise man, that Vance. Very wise indeed.
I liked Vance. A lot, actually. Technically he was a member of the Guard, but his role kept him segregated from the other meatheads, and he didn't display the same cavalier attitude. He kept to himself, and I never saw him at meals guffawing with the group. Vance was the keeper of the gate. No one or nothing made it past him without his approval.
The dinner bells chimed before I could ask the question that had been percolating about the distinct lack of old people at Asylum. Vance was literally saved by the bell.
I walked around the mansion, instead of walking through it, to meet Meg for a Daphne transfer. Tom and Meg were talking by one of the lunch tables with the dogs playing nearby when I spotted them. I shoved down my dejected feelings from being blown off by Jake and plastered on a smile before they noticed me.
A testament to Tom's skill as a trainer, Daphne kept her ass cemented to the patio brick while I approached.
"Okay," Tom commanded, releasing her from the sit-stay position.
Both dogs made for me at a run. Seeing Daphne coming toward me, I thought how adorable she was. Boss on the other hand, with his tongue flapping up and down and hanging out the side of his open mouth as he barreled toward me, invoked a bit of panic. The playful glint in his eyes left no question that I was about to be tackled, and I braced myself for impact.
"Oof!" I grunted when the huge dog planted his front paws on my chest and drove me backwards to land on my ass. He stood over me, crushing my lungs and attacked me with slobbery kisses.
"I hear you laughing, assholes!" I shouted to Meg and Tom who were giggling like a pair of schoolgirls at my current predicament. Big mistake. My comment at the peanut gallery left Boss just the opportunity he needed to stick his tongue into my mouth and give it a big smooch.
"Blech!" I spat, shaking my head to either side in an attempt to thwart his barrage off licks.
"Woof!" the big dog responded, pausing in his affection just long enough to let out the bark.
"Oh, come on!" Daphne had arrived, and I felt her tiny tongue added to the assault. My hands were doing their best, and failing miserably, to cover my face, which left my ears open. I screamed in disgust when I felt Daphne's little tongue jab into my ear canal.
"Off," I heard Tom say. Both dogs instantly ceased their exuberant assault and moved back a few steps. He and Meg had closed the distance and I looked up, fixing them with my death-rays.
"You planned that, didn't you?"
Tom made his best who me face and tried to look sheepish. "Never, that would be evil," he replied innocently and helped me to my feet.
"I'll get you, my pretty. And your little dog too!" I cackled.
Meg laughed, and I gave her a withering look that let her know her participation wouldn't be forgotten either.
"Don't look at me," she protested. "I had nothing to do with it. I'm innocent, I say. Innocent!"
I broke down and joined them in laughter at her sad attempt to imitate a busted crime boss.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your dining company today?" I asked her when she followed Tom and I back outside with her food tray. "Not that I'm complaining. I feel like I never get to spend any time with you anymore, which is weird considering we haven't been more than a couple hundred feet out of each other's radius in months."
"No special occasion. I just missed my sis. Although, I don't know what I was thinking," she zipped her jacket all the way up to her neck and rubbed her hands together to generate some warmth. "It's freezing out here!"
A man crossed
the patio to the back doors, pausing to wave and call out a greeting. "Hey, Tom."
"Afternoon, Mel, you'd better hurry up and get some grub before it's gone," the cop called back.
My blood ran cold at the name, forcing the repressed memory of Dave and Mel, the men who had beaten me and nearly raped Meg. Even though I knew the man was dead, the name still invoked panic in me and my irrational brain made me confirm that he was a different Mel. I reached out to Meg and squeezed her clammy hand. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was focused on deep breathing exercises. In through the nose, and out through the mouth.
"It's not him, Meg," I reassured her.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and her breathing returned to normal. When her hand stopped shaking, I pulled mine away and we sat in silence across from each other, not breaking eye contact until the flashbacks subsided.
"Well, that sucked," she breathed out.
"Ditto," I agreed.
Tom looked back and forth between the two of us, waiting for an explanation. I gave him a sideways glance and discreetly shook my head. Some things should stay buried. Mel and Dave were a testament to that clichéd expression.
"Looks like I'll get to see Boss in action tomorrow, Tom," I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
He looked at me, perplexed. "What do you mean?"
"I sold my soul to the devil. In return for my tagging along for tomorrow's expedition to do a little shopping, I'll be hanging up my maid's uniform and going back to scrubs."
Meg choked on a french fry and slapped her chest to dislodge it. "Are you insane?" she coughed out.
"That doesn't make any sense. Why would Mack ask you to go out?" Tom asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine," I lied. "I guess he finally realized I'm one bad ass motherfucker." I flexed my nonexistent bicep.
"Seriously," he said, deadpan. "What did he say?"
I couldn't risk sabotaging my only shot at getting off laundry duty, and I knew Mack well enough to know that if I breached his trust there would be ramifications.
