LovewithaChanceofZombies

by Delphine Dryden

  “Yes sir. Some of my research team will need to help, as well. If it happens.”

  The admiral nodded and waved as he walked out.

  Chapter Eight

  “Fuck him.”

  Back in Lucas’ quarters, Lena nibbled on a hunk of brown bread and watched her lover pace. “He didn’t say no.”

  “He might as well have. God dammit!”

  “Have some cheese. Or maybe some jerky.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Lena thought he sounded like a petulant child, but she kept that thought to herself. “You need to keep your strength up.”

  “What I need,” he argued, “is more time and a whole bunch of test subjects. Dammit!” He swung his foot, aiming for the coffee table, then pulled back in evident frustration and stalked to the eating area to kick one of the sturdy wooden chairs instead.

  In a way, it was probably healthy for him to be angry. Lena was surprised it had taken him this long. Then again, she wondered how often in his life he’d ever truly been thwarted. He was the savior, the last-minute hero, and even this time he’d managed to come up with some sort of plan. But now, when it arguably mattered the most because it was the one time his own life was at stake…he might be denied even the chance to try.

  Nye, she thought, was a better person when he was getting to be a hero. But he was a more authentic person when faced with frustration.

  She put the bread carefully back in the basket with the cheese and stood, brushing crumbs from her lap. “We can talk to Watson. There’s still enough time to convince him. He’s at least talking to the mayors about it.” When Nye made his next pass, stalking by the couch, she reached out and intercepted him, grabbing his upper arm. “Lucas. He didn’t say no.”

  “He will though. You can tell. He’s afraid people will turn on him if he takes the risk. When he does say no, you’ll support him, won’t you? You agreed with him, or at least you understood what he meant by it.”

  “I did understand,” Lena said bluntly, “and I think he was absolutely right to be concerned. It’s hard enough to go out there and kill horror-show monsters, Nye. If we thought about the fact that those things all started as people, as somebody’s kid or mother or sister or husband, we wouldn’t be able to do it. It only works if they’re not human.”

  “That doesn’t mean there can’t be a third option. Something new, something that could give us all a way forward!”

  “When have people ever leapt at the chance to embrace change and the unknown?”

  Whatever Nye wanted to express got stuck in his throat as conflicting emotions battled for dominance. His hands ran through his hair again, grabbing two big hunks as if he might pull his thoughts straight out that way. Then he growled in frustration, brought his hands down and snatched Lena up by the waist before she knew what hit her.

  His kiss said more than words could have about his anger and fear. Lena took it, accepted his rage and frustration, his wordless rant about the way his life was ending. It wasn’t fair, she had to agree.

  He carried her to bed and tore at her clothes, ruining scarce resources as he tried to shove them aside enough to bare her, to get inside her. Her shirt buttons popped off but the tough fabric and heavy-duty fastenings of her belt and fatigue pants defeated their efforts to rush things along.

  “Dammit!” he said at last, and let Lena push his shaking fingers from her belt buckle. She fumbled with it, then yanked it loose with a cry of relief and started unzipping her pants while he managed to undo his own.

  Once he’d freed his cock, Lucas took over again, shoving Lena’s pants and underwear down to her knees with frantic impatience, then reaching up to push her bra to her collarbones. Lena’s breasts popped free, nipples reacting instantly to the cold in the room, the heat in his eyes. He detoured from his original purpose, crawling over her to set his lips around one tight bud. When he sucked hard, Lena’s pussy responded with an ache and a wet rush of need.

  Her moan seemed to make Lucas pause, hesitate. He released her breast and met her eyes, and she couldn’t face the anguish she saw behind his desire.

  Lena didn’t want hesitation. She didn’t want time to think about the future. She rolled away from Lucas’ gaze and pushed up to her hands and knees, her bare butt pressing into his chest.

  “Now,” she insisted.

  Lucas didn’t argue, just positioned himself against her. “Yes.”

  He slid in fast, setting a brutal tempo, his fingers digging into the skin of Lena’s hips as hard as hers dug into the blanket. Fucking, not lovemaking, but it was what they both needed, like the desperate animals they were.

  She came almost instantly, sharp and fast, and had just enough awareness to feel faintly ashamed of how easily she’d wrested pleasure from Lucas despite the pain she’d seen on his face. Her shame lasted only as long as Lucas did, which wasn’t long at all.

  It was hard and raw and at least one of them cried, but Lena wasn’t sure who.

  * * * * *

  Lena understood Watson’s viewpoint, because she understood the value of doing things for the good of the group. She was used to communal living, even if her first experience of it had been a dysfunctional example. Apart from a few brutal weeks of solitude before finding a group of survivors and then the colony, she’d never had only her own needs to consider. To her, self-sacrifice was not optional. But Lucas was special, and though she knew she was biased, Lena thought he was probably special enough to make exceptions for.

  “There aren’t so many doctors that we can afford to let one go if there’s any other way,” she argued to Watson.

  To Nye, she reported back, “He’s still talking to people. He still isn’t saying no. And he wants us to get together the supplies we’ll need, just in case.”

  Things looked less and less bleak at her little chats with Watson. He started to discuss conditions that might be necessary if—if—the procedure were to be attempted. No more than two researchers to assist, a full written outline of the procedure to work from, and a backup shooter on hand at the awakening to take care of Nye if he was aggressive or otherwise seemed unsafe. He would have to be bound when he came out from under the coma, of course. Lena said she thought that could probably be arranged.

  She also went out every night to test Nye’s experimental formulations of the hemp lure. The raw seeds drew zombies reliably, but at a huge materials cost; the guards were grumbling about the tragic waste by the second night. The extracted seed oil was too heavy to work well as a spray, but certain dilution media like alcohol seemed to render the smell unpalatable to the zombies.

  After a week of nightly trials, they found the magical balance, a diluted spray of hemp combined with a lighter oil. It brought the zombies to the treated location and kept them interested and in one place long enough to be easy targets. An impressive number of kills were added to the official roster over the following three nights, and all at little risk to the sharpshooters, as the zombies seemed wholly interested in the hemp-scented earth or shrubs that received the spray.

  It was the hemp, however, that blew Nye’s cover.

  One of the farm workers, delivering a bundle of freshly cut stalks to Watson’s office, stopped in the communal kitchen for a meal before heading back out of the colony. In the course of his visit, a friend asked him what Nye was working on out at the farm for so long.

  By the time the driver was back out of the compound, the rumors were starting to spread.

  * * * * *

  Lena struggled to keep her pace to a casual stroll on her way from Watson’s office back to the lab. She had to look casual so as not raise any suspicions about where she was headed in such a hurry, but if she could have sprinted, she would have. She wanted to see the smile, the relief, the hope on Lucas’ face when she told him that Watson had come through for them—for him—and they could try the coma experiment.

  They’d finished assembling their equipment days ago, wanting to be ready in case Lucas turned out to have a sho
rt incubation. Now they were at twenty-four days from infection, and Lucas’ quarters were cramped with a second, more maneuverable hospital bed, a set of portable vitals monitors, a few IV poles and a crash cart. Watson had helped them stock up on food and water. The only thing left was to wait for the symptoms.

  She was surprised to find she wanted the experiment to begin sooner rather than later. Lena was contemplating why this might be, lost in thought, when a familiar voice hailed her from across the courtyard next to the medical building.

  “Lena! Did you hear?”

  “Hear what, Gilford? I’m kind of in a hurry.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look as stern and unapproachable as possible. Although she didn’t keep on walking when the kid crossed her path, she did stay angled toward the medical building, sending a clear signal that she was in no mood to linger and chat.

  “Lucas Nye got bit! They think he’s maybe already turned and they’re just hiding him somewhere.”

  The bottom dropped out of her world for a single moment of sheer panic before Lena righted herself mentally and shrugged. “Who’s ‘they’?”

  The kid opened his mouth then shut it again, bewildered. He shrugged. “Everybody.”

  “Nye is at the big farm doing some research, Gilford. You should learn not to listen to gossip.”

  An angry crease marred the youth’s forehead. “It wasn’t gossip,” he insisted.

  “Don’t you have an assignment you need to get to?” Lena asked pointedly. She started walking again, overshooting the hospital and continuing down the gravel road until she was sure Gilford wasn’t watching anymore. Then she doubled back, this time moving at a slow trot, ignoring the familiar rhythmic thump of her weapon against her back as she ran.

  By the time she got back to the lab, Lena was panting. Fit as she was, the anxiety took a toll on her stamina, and she had to stop and gasp for long moments before she was able to tell Lucas what had happened.

  “I have to go back to Watson, tell him what Gilford said,” she finished. Lucas had let her talk, not commenting, not even seeming especially perturbed. He kept his eyes on the page where he’d been scribbling notes when Lena ran in.

  “Where do you think Gilford heard it?”

  “Does it matter? How can you be so damn calm?”

  Lucas shrugged. “If it’s just mess-hall gossip, maybe it’s not such a big deal. I’ve been out of sight for weeks, and it’s been pretty quiet aside from the incidents at the farm. People will always start making up stories when they’re bored. The attacks are on the hemp field, I’m supposed to be there at the farm doing some secret project. Then you show back up at the gate and start running experiments with the hemp. I’m kind of surprised we haven’t heard something like this earlier, frankly. It would have been helpful if you’d questioned him a little more thoroughly though.”

  “I’m sorry, I was a little too busy trying to pretend I had no fucking idea what he was talking about when he said you were being hidden somewhere!”

  Lucas finally looked up, and Lena noticed he didn’t look quite as tired or pale as he had over the past few days. Even in the weak fluorescent light, she could see that his color was a bit better—he looked almost rosy—and some of the strain was gone from around his eyes. But he reached his fingers up to the bridge of his nose, rubbing there like he always did when his head hurt, and she automatically chided him.

  “You should go sit at the desk where you’d have better light.”

  “I just sit down and start writing when the ideas come.”

  “I need to go talk to Watson. We need a plan, just in case—”

  “Stanton. Doctor.”

  They both turned to see Watson at the door to the lab. The look on his face broadcast the bad news he bore.

  “Admiral.” Lena stood up at something like attention.

  “We’ve had an unfortunate development.”

  “I saw Gilford—” she started, but Watson cut her off.

  “I just came from the mayor’s office. Cochrane called me in right after you left. He’d just heard a rumor that hit a bit too close to home for comfort.”

  “And?” Lucas asked quietly.

  “He wants us to pull the plug. Send you to quarantine, come clean about the cover-up, make a public announcement.” Watson looked tired, older than usual. “I managed to get him to wait a few hours. He’s planning to make the announcement at six. You have a little time to pack a bag, get some things ready. I’ll have an escort to take you over to the quarantine barracks. I’m sorry, Nye.”

  “You did what you could, sir,” said Lucas. His face was impassive, unearthly calm, but Lena could see a fine sheen of sweat along his forehead.

  “This is bullshit!” Lena protested. “This could be the cure we’ve all been waiting for, and you’re just going to cave?” She wasn’t sure who to address, Watson or Lucas, but neither of them met her eye in any case.

  After a moment of horrible silence, Watson cleared his throat. “Six o’clock, Nye. I’ll do my best to see you’re not bothered between now and then.”

  He left without a backward glance, and Lena stared after him until the lab door closed. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I can. Get the notebook there, please? And anything else you need from the lab. We won’t be coming back here for weeks.”

  “What? Didn’t you hear what Watson—”

  “I heard what he said,” Lucas assured her with a grim smile. “You thought I was leaving this to chance? The cure we’ve all been waiting for? Come on, it’s time to go to ground. I was hoping for a few more days, but…probably this timing is for the best.”

  He was all the way to the door when he turned around. “You coming?”

  Lena threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know. You planning to tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

  “In my quarters.”

  He disappeared, and she had no choice but to follow him if she wanted to hear more.

  It was a short, silent walk to Lucas’ quarters. Just before he closed the door behind them, he asked her, “You’re sure you’ve gotten everything you need out of the lab? What about out of your room?”

  “There’s nothing important in my room,” she said. “I wouldn’t have left anything in there to get stolen while I was sleeping here.”

  “Good.”

  The door closed with a solid clunk, shutting them into the room, and Lena reached over and turned on the overhead light. Wincing, Lucas threw an arm up to shield his eyes against the sudden glare.

  This timing is for the best.

  “No…” she began, but couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Afraid so.” He lowered his arm slowly, squinting. “I didn’t think about the headache because I’m pretty used to those, but then the fever kicked in about an hour ago. And now this thing with the lights, I guess. It’s ramping up quick.”

  From under the couch, Nye pulled a tattered duffel bag that clanked when he set it on the table. He unzipped it to reveal an assortment of easily recognizable hardware.

  “Locks. Where did you get those?” There were hasps and padlocks, deadbolts, hotel-style latching door guards, all jumbled together.

  “I’ve been taking them off every storage room and locker, the old offices one floor up, anyplace I could find whenever you were off talking to Watson. Help me get them on the door?”

  Lena nodded. “I’ll do this while you get the bed set up. I’ll just do five of them though. You know if they really want to come in, none of this will stop them?”

  “I know,” he admitted, “but it makes me feel better. Maybe it’ll buy us some time. If I’m already out of it and locked up, maybe Watson can convince Cochrane to let us at least finish the experiment.”

  Lena’s hands trembled at first, making it hard for her to manage the tools. The doorframe was wood but the wall behind was cinderblock, and the screws were all of different lengths, so the installation was tricky. Having a task to focus on helped. By th
e time the second hasp was in place and she’d turned the key on the heavy padlock, her hands and mind were steady. She peeked behind her occasionally, checking on Lucas as he moved slowly around the hospital bed, setting up the IV poles and putting the monitors into place.

  The fifth lock, a thick sliding bolt, gave her a bit of trouble. By the time she glanced over at the doctor again, he had changed into his loose pajama pants, and Lena automatically admired his lean, shirtless torso before reminding herself that ogling Nye was inappropriate at this time.

  Besides, he looked too thin. He hadn’t been eating well.

  “One last meal?” she suggested. She knew they had the supplies for it.

  “Can’t,” he replied. “I haven’t eaten at all today, as it happens. I just didn’t have any appetite, but that’s a lucky thing. Less for you to deal with later.”

  He’d already explained the various tasks she’d need to perform while he was unconscious, many of them unpleasant. Lena didn’t mind. She’d dealt with worse in her time. It was no more than anyone might have to do for a loved one who’d grown old, ill, disabled. Her willingness to do all that just meant Lucas was a loved one, and Lena had waited a long time to have one of those.

  It wasn’t until after she’d finished locking them in that Lena considered her first instinct should probably have been to follow orders. She’d been placed with Nye to protect him, but also to protect the colony. He’d started to turn. She should be shooting to kill. She hadn’t even thought about it though. Instead she’d just started helping him.

  As if he’d read her mind, Lucas spoke up. “You can leave if you need to. I’ll understand. This wasn’t what you signed on for.”

  “You can’t do this by yourself,” Lena objected.

  “I wouldn’t try. I’d use the syringes instead, like I planned to before. Will you stay with me until…?”

  Until I’m dead. He didn’t need to say it. Lena didn’t need to hear it. “No.”

  “No?”