by Hamrick, R M
A spot of blood appeared within the plastic. Bingo. She secured it with tape as quickly as she could, balancing conservation of supplies and really not wanting to do another IV because this one was pulled out. She grabbed her precious bottle of Propofol they had found in their last supply run of the hospital and, eyeing his weight, gave him a hopefully appropriate dose. At one point, her office had made use of a bathroom scale. It had informed them all the residents were medically underweight, then it was broken shortly thereafter in a scuffle between infected and handler. She had put the replacement low on her wish list.
Her patient slowly stopped fighting, and then Dwyn and Gordon were trying to keep him up rather than keeping him from escaping. They pulled him onto the table as Satomi readied the flexible plastic intubation tube. She tried not to think about its prior uses. Previous single-use items were now used until failure. She had cleaned it out, and technically, it wasn’t supposed to be sterile, but it still felt wrong. She got above the patient, still avoiding the wound, and tilted the patient’s chin back. First the blade of the laryngoscope, then the tube followed. With the tube’s cuff inflated to keep it in place and Dwyn using the self-inflating bag to control the patient’s breathing, Satomi scrubbed her hands and began as quickly as possible. She could give him more Propofol in smaller doses to keep him under, but the faster she performed the procedure, the more anesthetic they would have for someone else.
“What did Audra name him?” asked Dwyn, ever curious about Audra as he counted to six under his breath before giving the bag another slow squeeze.
“Curly.”
“She’s not been very creative lately,” he admitted.
“I’d name him Homer, after that old cartoon,” said Gordon, before putting the stethoscope up to his ears and pumping up the blood pressure cuff. Satomi surmised Gordon was connecting the infected’s injury with the combover of that character. But it wasn’t their place to name him. He was a person. He always had been.
If the two men had continued their chatter, Satomi didn’t notice. She became lost in her work. She cleared the wound with loads of homemade normal saline and another formerly-disposable bulb syringe. With her sterile tools, she pulled the scalp back into place and began her stitching.
Satomi remembered too late that she should have brought in one of her assistants to watch and learn. Gordon and Dwyn were part of the core team, and she had gotten used to their help. But if some of the new citizens could take on some of these duties, then perhaps she could return to the laboratory. She hadn’t even entered the lab in the last couple of weeks. It seemed having a community meant needing a full-time medical doctor - although she hated to admit it. From sprained ankles to toothaches, it was all on her. When she wasn’t treating, she was preventing. Illnesses could sweep quickly through their tight quarters and decimate their antibiotic supply. Now, she used a lot of herbal remedies to supplement or to curb sickness before it required traditional drugs. She wasn’t sure whether she was a modern doctor or an apothecary at times. Perhaps they were one and the same.
It didn’t take but a couple of smaller boluses of Propofol to keep him settled for the duration of the procedure. Gordon had managed to push an entire bag of IV fluid. The patient’s skin was already beginning to look less gray, and the veins on his face receded a bit in the returning color of his cheeks. She’d try to give him another half bag of fluid before he woke up and pulled out the IV. Then if all looked all right, he’d get a dose of the antiviral. Often it took a series of doses, but eventually normal brain function would return.
Together they transferred the patient onto the third stretcher from the door. Gordon and Dwyn secured him with wrist and ankle restraints. Satomi continued using the bag to oxygenate him until he woke, then she deflated the cuff and pulled the intubation tube. She’d check its integrity and wash it again. Eventually he’d really awaken and tell them his name.
Satomi would bet a bag of prepared normal saline that it wasn’t Curly.
Chapter Three:
Audra’s Secret
Audra was on her way to the mess hall for a second breakfast when a young woman with spiky brown hair bounced over to her. She had a bright speck that decorated her tiny nose. Earrings lined one ear. The jewelry and her bright eyes just accentuated her fairy-like qualities, petite but tough. Her bright smile took over half of her face, and Audra couldn’t help but be pulled into her office for a talk. It was always good to see Ryder.
They shared a long hug before Ryder pulled around to the other side of her desk which was covered with a bunch of schematics, measurements, and sketches. They were scattered in a mess that Audra couldn’t decipher. More papers had crept their way onto the walls, secured this way and that. Not by tape. Tape was in short supply. While Audra had never thought much of the rundown business park, Ryder’s vision, keen engineering mindset, and wicked hard work had created a sanctuary. And, as much as this office didn’t look it - it was the office of the mayor.
“I want to do a council meeting tomorrow, since you’re in town,” she said, pulling herself onto her desk, sitting cross-legged on the mess. She looked down at a sketch that looked like a silo, frowned, and grabbed a pencil and scribbled a couple of numbers.
“Can’t we do it today? I’d like to not stay,” muttered Audra, not really wanting to elaborate. Audra didn’t agree with the added complication of council meetings, much less them actually meeting. She had often voiced that concern in the council meetings, much to everyone’s frustration.
Ryder glanced up, her eyebrows also rising.
“Satomi is going to want to monitor her patient... About the meeting, I want to nominate you as mayor during the meeting.”
“Hell no.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Look, I’m great at the town-building stuff. It’s the rest of this leadership thing - I’ve no idea what I’m doing. I’m an engineer, not a mayor,” Ryder confided in her.
Audra disagreed. Ryder was doing an amazing job creating a workable infrastructure with a population that was only growing. She had set up a water filtration system and was even trying her hand at designing the farms for efficiency. It made Audra’s head spin - the way she balanced immediate needs with what was best for the future. She understood Ryder’s desire to slough away the politics, but what she was actually asking, Audra wanted no part of.
“Audra, I don’t think anyone’s more capable than you. And it wouldn’t be just you - the others are a big help. I’d be a big help.”
“I wouldn’t make a good leader. All I want is to wake up the sick and tear down Greenly. That’s not much of a plan or a future. You need me out there pulling in more people. You can glean leaders from the cured.”
It was hard to argue with it, but it was also just a really good excuse to not be a part of civilization. They were lucky she didn’t run off in the first place, that she returned here as a home base.
Hell, maybe this was Ryder’s and the council’s secret plan to root her. It wouldn’t be their first.
They were interrupted by someone coming in with a question about the storage silo. Nobody knew what they were doing except Ryder, and even she just went by principles she had learned in engineering, not because she had ever built a silo before. Ryder recited the new number she had written down in anticipation of their question, and they headed out. Audra didn’t even know the person’s name. Marla, maybe? And that’s why they needed Ryder. Ryder connected with everyone. Even when they were first journeying to Osprey Point, she’d kept up morale and confidence despite not knowing what they would find there. Audra did not have the affability or patience for such tasks.
“I wish you’d think on it more. I don’t feel comfortable here. I was happy to lead us - not an entire community. If not you, then someone.”
Perhaps she was serious. Maybe she’d talk to Satomi and get her feel for it. Satomi, now regulated to full-time medical doctor (although Audra didn’t dare tell her that) was Ryder’s best friend. She’d know bett
er what Ryder really wanted. Audra made a note to do that in the next couple of days.
Until then, to appease Ryder, she replied, “Yes, I’ll think about who else could lead, but, you’ll have to give us some time. You’re doing great.”
* * *
After a second breakfast in the mess hall, Audra raced to the refitted office building to find her room in the maze of hallways. Audra imagined from the amount of paperwork they cleared from there, it had been an insurance office, but she also never bothered to look at the legal-ese to confirm. She was given a small room toward the front - easy escape.
She began swapping out things in her bag. The morning had gotten away from her and she wasn’t sure if she’d be fast enough.
She wasn’t fast enough.
“Where are you going now?” asked Dwyn, his curly-haired head popping through the doorway of her little room. Damn, she should have shut the door. Were they really done with Curly already?
“Back out. I have the rest of the day to find someone else. How is Curly?” she asked, trying to keep the topic on zoms and not her or him, or worse, her and him.
“He is resting. You could also rest,” he suggested as he did so against her door frame. His shoulders had gotten even broader, she thought. She dismissed the thought.
“I rested last night nearby.” Not addressing the real point. “I’ll check the snares before I head out.”
“You’re coming back tonight, though, right?”
“Why?” She slung her bag onto her shoulder.
“The council meeting tomorrow.”
Shit. Ryder had already told him.
“When you’re back, can we hang out?” he asked with some trepidation, then proceeded to slip off the door frame. Audra gave a giggle, much to her aggravation.
She enjoyed his friendship, but things had gotten complicated. The kiss. Then, she had been rather unguarded and emotional at the falls when he’d arrived and helped her bury her sister, but she couldn’t stay that person. And besides, what was the point of owning an anchor? She’d be leaving here soon enough. It was easier to just... not.
“No, I don’t think so.”
His eyes darkened a bit at the invitation’s decline.
“Give yourself permission to be here, Audra,” he said as he walked away.
He could take a hike. She didn’t owe him her company. Audra stomped through the maze of office halls to find the stockpile of clothes that people could pull from. She needed some new socks to compensate for the fact that she needed new shoes. What did he know? Her thoughts raced. Becoming permanent residents and setting down roots in a town was a dream for her and her sister. Belinda craved people and attention and gave love freely. She needed a town. To live here without her... Audra wasn’t sure she wanted to.
With a quick nod from her to the guard, the gate wheeled to let her out. She ran out into the golden hues and burnt coppers of fall without looking back at the dusty overcrowded community. To live there and love there was for Dwyn, for Belinda. She didn’t need it.
* * *
The crunching of the leaves underneath her feet reminded her they were running out of time to make provisions and preparations for winter. It could come fast. It could also leave again for another scorching summer-like day. The south was weird like that. Audra didn’t know how those up north survived their intense winters, but at least winter was assured.
The oak trees were dropping their green acorns. Most of them had sunk into soft ground and she padded her way through. Occasionally one would catch underneath her feet and threatened to roll her onto hard dirt and roots. She laughed and stepped with fast short beats.
Audra ran past the stretch of planted mulberry trees, which had given all they had to offer weeks ago. Rumor had it that some of the fruit might reappear as wine in a couple of months. One could only hope. Audra observed that the hickory nut trees also needed a rest from hungry fingers. If she thought a single runner needed obscene amounts of food, it was nothing compared to a hungry settlement. Audra recalled Larange Greenly’s rants about the difficulties of keeping her towns fed, despite their resources and stockpiles. Ryder had many systems in place for their community as well. Still, Audra wondered what they would do when things got scarce. If things got really bad.
The bleating and commotion filled her ears before she met the third snare. When she arrived to leaves flying, her excitement faded into a bit of sadness as she could almost taste the young doe’s fear. Small. She could handle it herself. Audra pulled the magic out of her bag - a concoction in darts - a joint project by medical Satomi and engineering Ryder. Audra was careful not to touch the end. She was no match for something that could take out a deer. Rather than take aim at the flailing, she sat down and waited. The deer’s coat was splotched in transition from summer to winter coat. It panted and writhed, but she knew it would eventually pause in its frantic motion to look at her. She’d already have aim and be ready to shoot. It would take a couple of good hits, but it was worth it.
Pop.
Got her.
And one more.
She took a few moments to let the sedation settle before unhooking the deer from the snare and setting ropes upon it. The doe was a heavy thing, but Audra was a stubborn thing. She braced her feet and found the starting momentum to get her onto the wrinkled patched tarp, and the tarp moving. Occasionally, the doe gathered enough strength to attempt another self-rescue. Its limbs kicked and bucked and more than once Audra had to let go of the rope. She’d rather pull zombies. They were a much more cooperative field partner.
A sense of uneasiness settled over the space between her heart and her stomach. Audra swiveled her head to look while still trying to maintain forward momentum. It was difficult to sense another presence in the woods with the deer so close. Maybe Dwyn had suspected she’d found something in the snares and had come to help. But he’d be coming up the path, which Audra had just reached, and there was no one in sight. On the worn single track, she dug her feet into the dirt and they picked up additional speed. She told herself that it would build strength in her legs. Maybe she should have let such a young doe go, but she needed it. Not to feed her people, but to feed her next people. Their turn.
Audra wasn’t sure if she kept the corral of uncured a secret because of the surrounding politics or because she was ashamed of it. Osprey Point was founded on a cure for all. No payment. No indentured servitude. You were cured and that was it. End of story. However, it turned out it wasn’t that simple.
Each person they awakened from their zombie state had only the rags on her back, heartbreaking confusion, and a disturbing absence of survival skills. A “catch and release” program would prove lethal, or at least counterproductive in terms of reinfection. By some degree, they were responsible for each life recovered. They taught each one to forage for edibles, how to hunt, and how to keep sheltered and warm - Audra recalled Dwyn’s dismal attempts to build a fire prior to her teaching him. How Dwyn had survived without that skill boggled Audra’s mind. Where had he been? But she didn’t dare ask when she refused to share anything of her own.
Despite skills taught, everyone remained firmly within the fences, content to stay in Osprey Point. And a community filling to the brim meant a backlog of people to awaken. A backlog just in this small part of a Southern state alone. Audra hated Lysent, but they were right about one thing. You can’t wake them all up at once. You need infrastructure. You need a system. And until then, you need a corral.
Dwyn and Ryder were the only other two who knew about the corral. Even among three, it remained a point of contention. It was too close. It was insecure. It was an accidental herd waiting to happen. Yes, yes, yes, it was all those things. A corral did nothing good for the zombies within or the humans nearby. After much debate, it was decided they would funnel any secured materials or time into expanding the community working toward eliminating the corrals once and for all.
The deer had given up its noise by the time they pulled up to the corral. He
r head and neck rested sadly on the tarp. A rusted trailer, long emptied of its goods, stood in a cleared field - someone’s loot a long-time past. Audra could hear them shuffling inside. She tied the deer’s legs and hoisted it up with the pulley system that Ryder had built. After tying it off, she climbed up to meet it. The zoms could smell the fear and the meat. Their scuffling rolled into a frenzy. She dragged the deer to the rusted portion of the roof that had been peeled open with great manual labor. In one last attempt to save its life, the doe flopped and threw Audra dangerously off balance. The metal near the edge bent with her weight but did not give this time. Audra sat on her rear and scooted away before pushing the deer into the groaning darkness below.
Audra lay back and settled onto the warm metal of the corral. Her body vibrated with the activity therein. She listened to the scream and ripping of flesh. What sort of life was this? She’d give herself permission to live when the world was worth living in. She rolled off the corral and headed back toward Osprey Point.
Chapter Four:
The Stranger
When Audra came out of the woods and onto the asphalt, her stride opened up into a sprint to the front gate. Ziv jumped down and managed to slide the gate open just in time as Audra came bounding through. She skidded to a stop with a smile.
Two scientists manned the gates, the easy shift that ended with the fading light. Ziv, with his long straggly beard that overtook his thin frame, was one of them.
