Yesterday Yields (Jane Zombie Chronicles Book 3)

by Gayle Katz

  “Better?” I ask.

  “Much better. There’s the woman I love again,” Jack smiles.

  “I love you too.” I turn to both men and ask, “Is there a game plan? What are we gonna do to fix this cluster fuck?”

  “Here’s the thing. To be honest, I’m not sure what to do next, but I have to caution both of you. We’ve developed so many versions of the inoculant and none of them seem to be a permanent fix. You might still have symptoms that pop up and, when they do, you have to tell me about them immediately and I’ll inject you again. Don’t assume they’ll pass or that you can handle it because, before you know it, you’ll find yourself biting and infecting others. And believe me, you don’t want to do that, OK?” Chris implores.

  “That’s terrifying. It’s like there’s a monster living inside of me,” I admit.

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Jack concurs.

  “Here’s what we think we know. We believe the sickness mutates, but we’re not sure how or when. The doctors and researchers hypothesize that each time it transmits from one person to another and mingles with that person’s body chemistry, it mutates. That may be why it’s changing so quickly and so difficult to treat.”

  “Shit. It’s like a plague.”

  “Yeah. Only worse. And it’s spreading. We’ve heard reports from across the country and even around the world about outbreaks. The government and the military are doing what we can to keep everything under wraps and quarantined away from the regular population. We don’t want mass hysteria, but at some point the jig will be up.”

  “This is happening all over?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Chris reaches for his bag and pulls out a couple sports drinks.

  “You know the drill,” Chris hands one to me and another one to Jack. “It worked last time so I thought it might be more effective in combination with the inoculant. If it helps to stave off the sickness until we can figure out what to do next, it’d be one less thing to worry about.”

  “Smart. OK, but what are we going to do next?” I ask in between sips. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “I don’t know, but just like Jack said, I know dropping you off at the hospital is pointless. And I know I’m not cool with my people telling me to keep what we know under wraps anymore. If people aren’t given proper information or told everything is fine, how can they take steps to protect themselves and their families? That’ll only perpetuate the outbreaks. The human race will be doomed if that happens and we still have no way of stopping it from spreading.”

  “Jesus Christ we’re in some crazy shit. Are you talking about a cover up? Like a conspiracy?”

  “No clue, but I’m not ruling anything out just yet.”

  “That’s just nuts. If the sickness is spreading like wildfire like you say, at some point even the people covering it up will be affected by it too. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t know what to think right now. I just can’t sit in silence while people are dying. It’s just not right.”

  I walk over to Jack and feel his forehead. He’s all sweaty.

  “Hey. Are you OK?”

  “Not really.”

  Jack pushes my hand away, runs into the bathroom, flips up the toilet seat, and vomits into the bowl.

  He mutters under his breath and rests his head against the cool porcelain. I follow him into the bathroom and touch his neck. He’s still clammy and cold.

  “I’m starting to feel better. Why isn’t he?” I look over at Chris, hoping for an explanation. Worry fills my thoughts.

  “No clue. I’m not a doctor. Everyone is different. For all we know, every person who’s infected has a different strain of the sickness and needs a custom inoculant to knock it out. It’s evolving faster than we can kill it or even treat it.”

  “We have to do something. We can’t just hang around the house, waiting for a cure that may never come,” I say to Chris. I’m getting anxious and feeling guilty about what I did to Jack.

  “Just cool down. It won’t help Jack if you’re not thinking clearly.”

  “I know.”

  “There is something we can do, but it might be dangerous.”

  “I don’t care. If it’ll help Jack, I’ll do anything.”

  “So here’s the thing. Ever since I was told to keep hush-hush, I’ve been doing a little of my own covert surveillance. You know, just snooping around. Everything I saw seemed fine, but then I happened to notice that my military base received a package from the hospital. Not a big deal, right? That is until I took note that the deliveries happen everyday. I snuck into the operations office and took a quick peek at their shipping records and noticed they send a package back to the hospital every single day too. And—get this—the packages aren’t even addressed to people—only departments and suite numbers. It seems odd that the military and the hospital need to communicate everyday, doesn’t it?”

  “The hospital is in close proximity to the base, right? Maybe it’s correspondence about patients who are in the military or who were, like veterans and such, for insurance purposes or something?”

  “I could maybe buy that, but these aren’t letters. I’m talking about actual box packages. And every time I start asking questions, I get the runaround.”

  “That’s weird. What could they be sending back and forth everyday that’s so top secret?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s what I’d like to find out.”

  “OK. If you think it’ll help, how are we gonna do that?”

  “It’s not going to be easy. Like I said before, I was told to keep my mouth shut. The military has rules. Doing this would break them. Are you sure you want to be a part of this?”

  Jack gets to his feet using the wall as a crutch. He’s panting, sweating, and breathing heavy.

  “No. She doesn’t want to be a part of it. It’s too dangerous. She could get hurt.”

  “I’m already hurt, Jack. And I hurt you. If there’s a chance we can make things better, find a cure, we have to at least try.”

  I look back at Chris.

  “Yes. Totally. I’m in. What other option do we have? Plus, I’m not part of the military. So what if I break a few rules?” I take another look at Jack.

  “Well, I’m part of it and you’d be my accomplice. It won’t go over well for either of us if we get caught.”

  “You’re a smart guy, Chris. Let’s make sure we don’t get caught.”

  “Jane, what are you doing?” Jack questions.

  “I’m gonna find a way to make us better. Look at yourself. I did that to you. I can’t wait around just hoping you’ll get better or that the government will step in and save us. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose us.”

  “You have a brave woman here,” Chris says to Jack.

  “I know,” Jack wheezes and looks at me. “Sometimes too brave. You’re gonna go no matter what I say, is that what I’m hearing?”

  “Yeah. I’m going,” I reply.

  “Fine. Chris, you better take good care of her.”

  “Of course,” Chris puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I will. You have my word.”

  “Good.”

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask.

  “First, the dog’s got to stay here. He’s too much of a risk to bring with us right now.”

  “Sure. He’ll stay with Jack, keep him safe.”

  “Good. OK, here’s what I’m thinking. You go into the hospital at night when staff is minimal. Pretend to be signing in for your shift at the front reception area and keep going to the stairwell. Nothing goes in or out of the hospital without passing through the records room. It should be on one of the lower levels. If someone doesn’t recognize you, just say you’re new. And then keep your eyes peeled for a delivery from the military base or a shipment going out. You’ll also have to get rid of whoever is really working that shift so I can hit the records room. Maybe I can find something about what’s happening.”


  “That’s all well and good, but don’t I need some sort of hospital garb? Like scrubs or something? I’d look awfully awkward working in a sterile hospital environment in my jeans and T-shirt.”

  “Yeah. I thought that too,” Chris smiles as he pulls a full set of scrubs out of his duffle bag. “Here ya go. We’ll also need to communicate when we’re not together.” Chris pulls a gizmo out of his bag and shows it to me.

  “This is a communications device. You put this tiny piece in your ear and that part we clip to the inside of your collar or sleeve, whichever works best or seems the most natural for you.”

  “Got it.”

  “And don’t be chatty. Only use it if you have to.”

  “I understand.”

  “Once you’re inside, I’ll guide you to where you’ll be stationed in front of the records room. After you’re in, I’ll meet you inside. I’m gonna need you to keep your eyes peeled for anyone planning to come in. Close to no one should be using that room at night, but you can never be too careful. If someone catches us in there, our little investigation will end before it begins.”

  Chapter 2

  ________________________________________

  After planning our next move, we still have some time before it gets dark.

  “I’m gonna run out and grab more supplies,” Chris says.

  “We don’t have much daylight left. Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I say as I grab his arm before he’s out of reach. “Also, Jack isn’t getting better. What else can we do for him? Maybe you can give him another dose of medicine? I feel so bad.”

  Chris looks me right in the eye. “Jane. Listen to me. It’s not your fault, alright? You were out of your mind. You were turning into a zombie. I know it’s difficult, but try not to blame yourself. That won’t help anyone, especially Jack. He needs your brain in gear right now, not focused on the past or dwelling on something you can’t change.”

  “Yeah. I know. I know. You make sense.”

  “Are you sure you’re good?”

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t sound convincing. While I’m rounding up additional supplies, take some time to reflect on what’s happening and how we’re gonna change it for the better. You’re not going to be any help if your focus is elsewhere. I need one hundred and ten percent of you on this mission or else it won’t work. Got it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Like I said, take some time.”

  Chris takes a closer look at Jack.

  “But you’re right. He’s not looking good.” Chris rolls up Jack’s sleeve and gives him a second injection. “Keep an eye on him. A second dose should help him feel a little better, but to be honest, I don’t know how this inoculant works or what’s in it so make note of any odd symptoms, OK?”

  “OK,” I give Chris a halfhearted smile and follow him as he exits our bedroom. Down the stairs and heading for the front door, I’m right behind him and Rocky is right behind me.

  “Stay inside and lock the doors,” Chris advises. “I won’t be long, but call me on this if you need anything.” He hands me a generic-looking cell phone.

  “Sure. Hurry back. OK?” is all I get out before I see Chris’s back as he hops into his vehicle. I watch him speed off, then close the front door, and lock it. Before heading back upstairs, I lean my head against the door. I’m not sure I have the strength to fight this zombie plague anymore and now I have to do it for both of us. Jack did it for me. The least I can do is repay the favor. In the midst of contemplating our next steps, I hear glass break. Rocky starts growling. My inner monologue ceases as I begin to tremble. I try to pinpoint where in the house the noise is coming from. Unable to figure it out, I run over to the coat closet and grab one of our trusty metal baseball bats. It feels like just yesterday when Jack and I were smashing zombie heads like we were hitting home runs.

  The lights are dim so I can’t see well, but I definitely recognize that putrid smell permeating the house. They’re here. Oh shit. They’re in the house. My heart is pumping faster and faster. My mind is racing. My hands are shaking. Still unable to see anything out of the ordinary, I slowly walk over to the stairs. Rocky is already there and growling even louder. We have to get to higher ground. The best place to be right now is with Jack on the second floor. Once I make it to the base of the stairs, I look around one last time. Still nothing. I turn around to face the stairs and put my right foot on the first step. It’s then that I hear that familiar zombie moan and feel something grab my left foot. I start to step up, lose my balance, and fall forward, face first onto the stairs.

  The step strikes me in the chest and, for a second, I can’t breathe. I flip over on my back, get a good grasp on my baseball bat, and smash it into the head of the zombie holding onto my left foot. While he’s stunned, I use that same foot to kick him in the face. Rocky is still growling and tearing at the zombie’s hand that’s clamped onto my left foot. He falls backward and loses his grip, releasing me from his clutches.

  As I take pleasure in my victory for a brief moment, I see he’s brought a couple friends with him and my celebration stops. Not willing to fight them all alone, I keep to the plan and decide to get up the stairs while we still can.

  Rocky and I scamper upstairs as fast as possible, get in the bedroom, and barricade the door.

  “What’s going on down there?” Jack asks.

  “Some friends decided to pop in for a visit.”

  I grab the phone Chris gave me and call him. The phone rings once and I hear someone pick up on the other side.

  “Hello? Chris?”

  “Jane? What’s wrong?”

  “We have company at the house.”

  “I’ll be right there. Sit tight.”

  “OK. We’re still in the upstairs bedroom. I blocked the door. I’m not sure how many are here, but as far as I know they’re still on the first floor.”

  “Gotcha. See you soon.”

  I hang up the phone and decide to calm my nerves by tending to Jack. We’re going to heed Chris’s instructions and stay put in order to recuperate from the sickness. I’m feeling much better despite falling on my face moments ago. My vision comes back and I can think clearly again, but Jack isn’t so lucky. First he felt cold. Now he’s laying on our bed sweating to death. All I can do is continue putting cool washcloths on his forehead to keep him from overheating. Every so often, I get him to sit up and drink. The more fluids the better in order to hydrate him and try to flush the bad stuff out of his system. I hold him in my arms, love him, and hope that something works so he starts to feel better.

  And if any of those zombies come through the door, they’re going to get a baseball bat right in the kisser.

  As I’m holding Jack in bed trying to comfort him, I stare at the bedroom door. It’s quiet for what seems like hours, but probably only minutes.

  “Everything is gonna be OK. Everything is gonna be OK,” I mumble to myself.

  It’s then that I hear a tap, tap, tapping sound on the bedroom window. It’s Chris! He climbed up the trellis. I hop out of bed, run over to the window, and open it.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yes. Here. Take my bag.”

  “Why the window?” I say as I grab his bounty.

  “I didn’t want to risk losing our supplies by coming in the front door and running into our zombie friends. They have a way of multiplying and I didn’t want to put our mission in jeopardy. I have some food, more sports drinks, and a couple burner cell phones, among other things. How’s Jack doing?”

  “Not good. First he’s sweaty and cold. Now he’s burning up. I don’t know what else to do for him.”

  “Jack,” Chris says, “Can you hear me? Can you sit up?”

  He nods and starts to move, but is having difficulty.

  “I feel like I have the flu. My entire body aches.”

  Chris and I help pull him up so he’s sitting in bed with his back against the wall.

  “How about if we all try to eat something? We’re
gonna need our strength.”

  “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

  “I bought a couple burgers. I thought the protein would help keep our strength up, but before we eat, let’s take care of your zombie problem downstairs, alright?”

  “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

  “We go down and beat the crap outta them. Then, once we’re sure we’re in the clear, board up the windows with some of your furniture. First things first, grab your bat.”

  “Got it.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Chris, Rocky, and I remove the chair and other furniture I used to block the bedroom door. Once the door is clear, Chris opens it slowly, peeks his head out, and looks both ways down the hall.

  “It’s clear. Let’s head downstairs. Keep your eyes open.”

  I close the bedroom door behind us and follow Chris as he goes down the main stairs to the first floor one careful step at a time. All we hear is silence except for the periodic creaking of the steps as we make our way down. Halfway down the steps, that putrid smell is getting worse.

  “You smell that?”

  “Yeah. Be ready.”

  A few more steps and Rocky lets out another growl. We spot a few zombies crawling on the floor.

  “This shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “The one on the left is the one that attacked me.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “His face is all bashed in and even more disfigured from my bat and my foot connecting with him.”

  “Good for you. Let’s finish them off and secure the house. Shall we?”

  It’s then that we hear a different sound, a growling sound coming from above to be more specific. I turn around, look back up the stairs, and it’s Jack standing at the top. He’s starting to turn. His skin looks so incredibly pale and his eyes are glowing a faint red.

  “Oh no, Jack,” I whisper. “We have to help him.”