by Hamrick, R M
Audra had done it alone for so long. Even when she’d carried her sister, she was alone.
A gust of wind grabbed at her hair and continued over the edge and into the valley, swaying the brush and small trees. It wasn’t difficult for Audra to imagine the movement in the woods below as that of the dead, drifting like sea currents over the earth. An ocean of hands and teeth.
So many gone. And yet, someone was still to be last.
Maybe chance would choose her. Maybe she was destined to do it alone.
Then, she’d stand last. Until she decided not to. She’d lift the burden from her shoulders and chase it into the sea. She’d leave the world to its fate. Devoid of higher humans. Devoid of higher purpose.
Dwyn and Haleigh were right.
No one could do it alone. Least of all, she.
“Who is that?” called Dwyn behind her.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, a figure climbed the hill towards them. He scrambled uncoordinated, but in using all four of his extremities, he would cover the distance in short time.
Audra held out her hand in caution. Dwyn’s curiosity always got the best of him. He’d be stutter-stepping down to meet the danger head-on. She wasn’t sure what it was yet, much less who.
This far from Osprey Point’s perimeter, roaming rotters were more common, but the thing scaling the hill was more man than rot. Arms, legs, torso, and neck all held proper angles. Well-preserved, not even weather-torn, he could be a half zom scout with many brethren to come. Audra looked past him into the valley and beyond, fearful for a second that her sea of death wasn’t a dream. Nothing of the sort. For now.
As he pulled himself up to Audra’s and Dwyn’s level, Audra recognized the slack-jawed demeanor of a freshly turned, but full-fledged zombie.
And it was just a kid.
Audra sidestepped as she inspected him. No scruff on his paling face. Ash brown hair fell to his shoulders. He was fourteen, fifteen tops. A thin arm reached toward them, its hand ripped open by teeth and now filled with brambles from his climb. He let out a snarl from the corner of his mouth. Audra tried to recall where she knew him from.
She pictured him with shorter hair that didn’t cover the green eyes or the freckled cheeks.
“Kip,” she said. The zom’s head jerked in her direction. More likely in response to the sound than his name.
“He lives in Uno. Or, did.”
Uno was the last township on the Lysent rail line. Kip had approached her a few years ago, even more so a kid. He asked her to teach him how to tag. Audra told him no. Told him if he lived in the townships and didn’t need to cure a loved one, he should just count his blessings and stay home.
He should have stayed home.
“Help me leash him so we can get him back.”
“To Uno?” asked Dwyn.
Audra looked around and realized she didn’t have her pack. She had left it at the motel. Her headache shot a bolt of lightning between her eyes. She wouldn’t be able to get him back to Uno today. He’d have to come with them.
“Home first. Do you have anything we can tie him up with?”
“What if Uno doesn’t want him?”
Dwyn had a point. Even if the corporate cures worked, getting them had become near impossible and a null point. People could barely afford food, much less the treatment for someone who would also need to eat during the winter months and beyond.
And did the corporate cures work? Audra didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t need to think about it. She would return Kip to his responsible party. They could decide his fate. This was finally a decision Audra didn’t have to make.
Audra pulled some dying vine off a tree. Dwyn hadn’t offered anything of value.
“That will cut into his wrists,” said Dwyn.
What the hell did it matter? Despite it not being her decision, she guessed he’d never be cured. She didn’t reply.
Dwyn got behind and held the boy’s arms straight out. Audra bound them together.
“What do you think he’s doing out here?” asked Dwyn.
“You mean, what was he doing out here,” corrected Audra. She reached into the boy’s coat pockets.
“That’s stealing,” explained Dwyn.
“Maybe it will tell us why he’s out here. Or, maybe he has a snack to share with us, since we’re being so kind to travel with him.”
Dwyn shook his head, but didn’t argue.
Audra pulled a folded paper from his back pocket. It was machine-pressed, not something a teenager in a Lysent-outskirting town would typically possess. Perhaps he was delivering a letter? Her face crinkled as she scanned its contents.
“What does it say?” asked Dwyn, his curiosity winning over any thoughts of keeping the zom under control.
Audra gave it a hard kick in the back and it tumbled halfway down the hill. It would take time for it to come back up.
“Hey, be gentle,” reprimanded Dwyn.
“Hell with that,” said Audra as she shoved the letter into Dwyn’s chest and slumped against a ragged pine tree, watching their zom climb back up on feet and elbows.
Dwyn read over the form.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “They’re looking for zombies?”
“It’s a bounty list offered by Lysent. It’s got tag numbers, names, and last-known locations. A hundred and fifty credits redeemable for fuel and food per head.”
“So, he’s a —”
“Tagger.” Kip had apparently gotten his wish. “Check out the name at the bottom of the list.”
“Yours. Gordon’s on here too.”
“Along with half of Osprey point,” added Audra. “I recognize all the names. They’re looking for MY zombies.”
“But they’re not all zombies.”
“No, but Lysent could make the argument that they were all given faulty cures and will turn.”
Audra picked up a stick and dug it into the soft dark ground, spinning it in a screwing motion.
“But why?”
“Who knows,” she said. But she knew. Greenly had her army. And she wasn’t content to just go in for the kill. First, she’d destroy everything around Audra. She would hurt anyone Audra had ever interacted with. And after Audra watched everything burn, Greenly would grow bored like a cat playing with a mouse — and she’d either end Audra’s life or worse, not.
Alone. The last.
Kip arrived back to them.
“What are you going to do with him?” worried Dwyn. Audra threw the stick in her hand. The zombie lurched, following the motion like a dog. The idea this young man could capture anyone seemed laughable, but Audra knew there would be more capable opportunists. “Are you taking him back to the township?”
“No, who’s to say they won’t grab me and turn me in.”
“I could take him.”
“He was going to turn us in for cash! He doesn’t deserve to go home. He deserves what he got.”
“None of us deserve this.”
And Audra knew he believed that. But she wasn’t convinced that she didn’t deserve it. What did she think was going to happen when she took on Larange Greenly and her massive corporation? She should’ve minded her own damn business. Now, lots of people were going to get hurt.
Audra fought the urge to kick Kip again. Instead she stood up and took a less-steep route back to the motel. Kip and Dwyn followed, other snares forgotten.
CHAPTER FIVE
RESTITUTION
Satomi walked past her room, no longer feeling the high anxiety that had led her to flee earlier that morning. Her eyes flitted from the carpet’s worn and blurred geometric patterns to the two tin mugs of liquid she balanced. Peter’s room was farther down the hall and to the right.
Jack hadn’t even formally given his request during their conversation when Satomi had decided to visit Peter. He was the one person who didn’t know what awful things she had done — the false hope she had shared. He didn’t even know what awful things he had done. The death toll was in t
he billions.
His door had a chain installed on its exterior to keep him from wandering. Satomi used one hand and arm to hold the cups of pine needle tea, and the other hand to pull the chain as discreetly as she could before knocking. Satomi was uncertain if Peter remembered or even knew about the chain. She certainly didn’t want to explain it.
She gave three firm knocks and listened to the long session of shuffling behind the door. If he took a while it was due to confusion, not physical limitations. Soon, the door opened a crack and its owner didn’t even peer out to identify the caller.
“I don’t want any food, thank you.”
“How about a friend, then?” she asked.
Peter let the door open to a wider angle. His silver hair was combed and parted. He wore a denim shirt tucked into his denim jeans. A neat black belt separated the two. Satomi gave a smile and Peter’s blue eyes brightened.
“Evelyn!” he said as he swooped in for a hug, his arms under hers. Satomi held the teas out at length to avoid burning him or herself.
“Satomi, remember?” she said into his ear, her chin resting on his neck. He pulled back immediately, another jostle to her frame and to the teas. He stared hard into her face. His brow furrowed and she wondered if he might throw a tantrum.
“That’s what I said,” he said. He welcomed her inside.
His room was a poor substitute for the studio apartment on wheels Jack had built him. A straw mattress much like hers, sat in one corner of the room. A table and chairs were the only real furniture. An interior office meant no windows. Along the wall stood a stack of books. Peter spent a lot of time reading.
“Tea, tea,” he said, looking around his room. There was no stove to make tea.
“I brought tea,” she said as she placed it on the wood veneer table and motioned for him to sit down.
“Oh yes, of course,” he mumbled. He sat down, folded his hands in his lap, and waited. He cut his eyes at her. Satomi was sure he had forgotten who she was, but she wasn’t sure if it was momentary or if Jack had brought her here under false pretenses.
Satomi slid the cup across the table to Peter. Satomi liked her tea strong and unsweetened, which worked well in the new world of pine trees and dandelion roots. She had resorted to stealing honey from Ryder’s stash to temper the tea’s sharp taste for Peter. He sipped it and smiled up at her at its sweetness.
Satomi sat across from him and shared his smile. It was easy to like Peter and almost impossible to reconcile the meek and pleasant personality with the person who created a slave army. Satomi wished she knew the truth about his character. If he gained additional mental function, would he be a different person?
“What are you up to, today?” he asked jovially.
“Oh, work, you know.”
In truth, probably fumbling around in the laboratory, pretending she had even the first clue how to save her friends from a terrible disease. Her chest tightened at the thought. Helplessness and stress were not benefactors to Eureka moments. And she needed a big one if she was ever going to make progress.
“What kind of work do you do?” he asked.
“I’m a doctor… well, a scientist I guess, at the moment,” she stumbled through her words. She wasn’t sure if being honest was a good idea but she found a need to talk to someone. She guessed she hadn’t much gotten the chance with Ryder being out.
“Oh, I’m a scientist too!” Peter said, his chest puffing a bit. “It’s a very noble field.”
Satomi couldn’t suppress her eyebrow raise, but she did offer a small smile.
“I work with nasty bugger viruses,” he started. “Research and development — can you believe that? We actually develop viruses.”
“That sounds dangerous,” led Satomi.
Working with the original z-virus, he must have some insight. Did his broken mind hold the key to her Eureka moment?
“Yeah, well, I figure it’s better to have a finger in the pie. It’s my only chance to know what’s going on. I don’t want to get stuck in the crossfire.”
Billions dead.
While it was unfair to blame a middle-management scientist for Lysent’s fatal direction, he had realized the risks in his work. Satomi couldn’t be sure of the end result if she returned Peter to his former glory in his ‘noble field’. But for now, other matters were easier to settle.
“Speaking of pie, I hear you’re not eating, Peter.”
“Do you have pie?” he asked, looking up from his cup.
Satomi laughed at her mistake. She didn’t know anyone who wouldn’t be happy to eat a sweet, buttery pie right now. “No, I’m sorry.”
“You know they don’t feed me,” he announced.
His face settled into a worried almost fearful look, as if he really was having trouble getting people to feed him. Satomi imagined his current hunger might be enforcing these thoughts. Did old Peter assume the role of a victim too? Did he ascribe his awful choices to just trying to keep his family alive and well?
“That’s awful. If I go get you some food, will you eat it?” she asked.
“Oh yes, thank you. I’m really quite hungry,” he said, and smiled.
Satomi wasn’t sure what her punishment should be for failing in her antiviral work, but this was definitely Peter’s restitution. He had a great mind and little access to it. He had become a burden to the son he was trying to save. Lost a daughter and couldn’t mourn her. If Satomi could release him from this mental purgatory, would he deliver the remaining population from his past sins or would he continue to pull strings for personal gain?
Peter’s eyes swept over the dreary, windowless room. “Also, I’d like to go home.”
Satomi nodded. She gathered the empty cups and promised to return with food for her friend.
* * *
Finally feeling tired, Satomi purposefully marched past her room after successfully getting Peter to eat. If everyone else was kind enough to not mention her insomnia, she would also pretend it didn’t exist. She walked through the plaza, around the fountain where people mingled, chatting and laughing. Since the previously cured had been sequestered, Osprey Point had become guiltily relaxed.
Satomi walked through the laboratory’s lobby, which now only contained some spare medical equipment and a tremendous pile of telephone cords tangled in a corner. The dark paneling on the walls remained, but desk, chairs, and even waiting area reading materials had been usurped by other community residents.
On the other side of the door lay the reason they were here at Osprey Point. Vesna had helped them locate this isolated laboratory forgotten by Lysent Corporation. It had seemed like a gold mine with its lab equipment and scientists to cure and recruit.
Now, it sat empty. Everyone but Satomi sent to quarantine.
Sure, the equipment was still there. Three rows of counters with cabinet space underneath. Refrigerators against the back wall. Microscopes sat uniformly in a line. Beakers and notebooks scattered with a day’s work before its scientists were ushered to a motel. With these items and any available solar power, Satomi was supposed to prevent the extinction of the human race.
Satomi had pushed them to swap the populations. Let those not at risk for reversion go to the motel. They’d have a larger population of scientists working in the appropriate space. But, it was decided the laboratory itself was too valuable for it to be lost in an outbreak. No, Satomi would remain.
Remain to do what, she wasn’t sure.
Since she had let go of First, do no harm, decisions had become difficult. Now she was plagued with questions as to what the right direction was. She thought when she saved Ryder from that zombie and held her close that everything would fall into place, but it hadn’t.
Ryder refused to stay where she was safe.
Peter didn’t deserve to be cured.
Osprey Point depended on her to work diligently in her laboratory until she stepped out with a vial of miracles. Instead, Satomi sat on a stool and stared at an empty space on the counter. She di
dn’t have the slightest clue what was wrong with the antiviral.
A noise behind her startled her. Satomi gave a little yip before turning around to see.
“Sorry to surprise you,” said Marla, poking her head in before entering completely into the laboratory. She pushed her black-framed glasses higher onto her nose, which was softly freckled. “I just wanted to see if I could help you today.”
Marla was Ryder’s junior engineer. She hadn’t any formal education, but she did have a knack for figuring out how to fix things. Ryder had taken her under her wing and taught her engineering principles. Together, they were building the infrastructure for a better Osprey Point. Satomi could only wish her work were as tangible as theirs.
“No… no,” Satomi hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, much less what someone else would do to help her.
Marla sat down on the stool next to Satomi. She leaned with her hands on the seat between her legs. She looked to Satomi earnestly, sprigs of red hair tucked behind her ears.
“I know it sucks we’re all separated,” she said. “But, once we figure this out, we’ll be able to reunite with everyone.”
Once I figure this out… Satomi knew she meant well, but this wasn’t helping. Just a reminder of the stakes that were avalanching on top of her, paralyzing her.
“Maybe if you explained to me what you were working on, something might come to you?” Marla suggested.
Satomi shook her head. “I could use more fuel, though. I can’t get my materials hot enough with the solar energy.”
Marla nodded eagerly, jumping off the stool, believing Satomi’s lie. With her exit, Satomi suddenly missed her presence. Unhappy with people. Unhappy without.
Satomi opened her composition notebook and looked over the numbers again, hoping they would offer her some hidden insight on the thousandth viewing. She had measured the viral load in the patients she treated for the z-virus. With each treatment, the load decreased until it wasn’t measurable. Then, she continued to test for over a month, to ensure the virus was eradicated from the person.
