Yesterday Yields (Jane Zombie Chronicles Book 3)

by Gayle Katz

  OK. With Chris rummaging through the records room, I need to pretend that I work here. I sit down on the same chair Phil sat on and look around the room. It’s pretty dull here. The bright light shining down looks a bit yellow, giving everything in the room a sickly feeling. Perhaps the awful drab walls have something to do with it too. I look down at the desk and see an open cardboard box in front of me—it’s filled with those Styrofoam packing peanuts. Curiosity gets the best of me. I reach for the box and slowly pull it toward me. I remove the peanuts one-by-one until my nails bump against something that feels like glass. I dig my fingers in deeper and whatever it is feels long and cylindrical. I grab it and pull it out of the box along with three others.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  “What’s wrong?” Chris asks. For a moment, I forget that Chris can hear everything I say.

  “You won’t believe this.”

  “What? Tell me.”

  “I just found four vials of blood in a cardboard box just sitting on the desk. That’s weird, right?”

  “Yeah. I would classify that as weird. Can you tell if it’s going in or out?”

  I turn the package around so I can see the other sides. “The outside of the package is addressed to the military base across town. I guess Phil forgot to seal it up before he left.”

  “If the hospital is sending blood to the military base, I wonder what the military base is sending here? Are there any special markings on the vials?”

  “They’re sealed with tape that says hazardous, but there’s nothing else that I can discern.”

  “That’s fine. Seal it up. My guess is that a delivery guy is going to be on route to pick it up soon. We don’t want to call attention to ourselves. Just package it up and sit tight.”

  “Will do,” I start looking around for packing tape. “Find anything interesting?”

  “Yeah. Some of these records have been here for years.”

  “That’s not a shocker. All businesses keep records for a certain period of time. I guess a hospital would do the same. They may keep them longer for reference and other medical purposes.”

  “Yeah, but it looks like these files are still active.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that these people were never released.”

  “Never released?”

  “You heard what I said. These people might still be here. Some of the open patient files are from as far back as six or eight years ago from what I can tell.”

  “Are you sure? That would be around the time of the first outbreak at Scarlet Peak. Maybe it’s just an oversight? Maybe someone just forgot to notate the file? I mean…what would keep a person at a hospital for so long?”

  “A chronic condition probably. Not sure. There are codes that might tell us more, but I don’t have a clue what they mean. And—oh boy.”

  “What?”

  “One of the patient files has your old Professor’s signature. His name was Benjamin Carter, right?”

  “I think he was a doctor, but not this kind of doctor. He was a Ph.D.”

  “Maybe he consulted on patients before he went bonkers?”

  “Yeah. Ummm. I don’t know about you, but anything involving my professor makes me uneasy. Between the vials of blood and my old crazy professor having a hand in whatever is happening here, I’m getting a creepy vibe from all of this. Listen. Are you done yet? I wanna get outta here.”

  “Agreed. Give me a min—,” Chris is cut off by screaming coming from across the hall. It startles me. I can feel the blood surging through my body. My heart is racing.

  Chapter 4

  ________________________________________

  “What the hell is that?” Chris rushes out of the records room to get a better idea about what’s happening.

  “I—I don’t know,” I fly over to the door and peek at the commotion on the other side. Chris follows me.

  As we peer out the small window embedded in the door, we see a spirited, but disheveled young woman in traditional hospital patient garb flailing her arms wildly. We hear her screaming at the top of her lungs. She appears to be trying to get through the double doors and escape to the stairwell.

  Two big, burly men dressed in hazmat suits appear behind her. They grab her arms. She resists, which says something about her determination, but she’s no match for them. She tries to bite them in order to incapacitate her captors and escape, but her teeth don’t penetrate the thick hazmat suit material. They don’t utter a word, but lift her up—kicking and screaming— and take her back into the section of the building she was trying to escape from. As they disappear behind the door across from ours, her noises are muffled and start to fade until we don’t hear her at all.

  “What was that all about?” I ask.

  “No clue, but she looked... looked part zombie,” Chris says. I guess he didn’t believe what he saw either.

  “I know, right?”

  “We have to learn more. We might not have another opportunity like this.”

  “Are you sure? We could get caught.”

  “We’ve done well so far.”

  “OK. You’re the boss.”

  “Did you package up the vials you found?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Put it on top of the desk in plain view. We don’t want to miss a shipment. That might arouse suspicion.”

  I walk over to the desk, place the package on the ledge, and return to Chris.

  “We have no idea what or who we’re gonna find over there so stick close. No wandering.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  ***

  We leave the records area and head across the hallway. We peek inside and see nothing of note. It looks like a regular office albeit a pretty sterile one, which totally makes sense since we’re in a hospital. We open the door and walk in. No one is around to help us. We take another glance around and see there’s a lab attached to the office. We walk over to the lab entrance in order to figure out what’s happening and see fifteen or twenty flat surfaces, most have people on them. They’re strapped down and not moving.

  “Let’s take a closer look,” Chris insists.

  I close my eyes for a brief second in order to muster up the courage to go further into the lab and check out the people who are here. I take a deep breath, follow Chris, and move closer.

  “Are they dead?”

  “I don’t think so. They’re breathing. It’s shallow, but their chests are rising and falling. They’re alive.”

  “We shouldn’t be here. We’re gonna get caught.”

  “Shh. Everything will be fine. Just relax.”

  “You telling me to relax isn’t very relaxing, you know?”

  “Yeah, then remember why we’re here in the first place. To see what’s going on, find out why the suppressants aren’t working, and maybe find a cure. Jack and everyone else are depending on us so try to get a hold of yourself and focus. I need you at one hundred percent.”

  We walk up to the first bed and see a young man. He’s got a well-healed bite mark on his arm.

  “Do you recognize him?”

  “No.”

  “It looks like he’s in the middle of changing. His mouth is taped shut. He’s breathing, but he’s completely sedated or out-of-it.”

  “I wonder how long he’s been here.”

  I move to the next body.

  “This one is a young woman. She looks really thin and gaunt compared to the guy you’re looking at. He still has some muscle tone. She looks emaciated, like she’s been here for a long while.”

  “Is she changing too?”

  “Yeah. She is. I wonder how many others are turning? I’m starting to understand why this part of the hospital is separated.”

  Chris walks over to look at her. When he sees her for the first time, he covers his mouth.

  “Are you OK?”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s Marie.”

  “Marie? Your girlfrie
nd? It doesn’t look like her.”

  “She looks different, but yes... it’s definitely her. I always assumed she was killed in the blast back in Scarlet Peak. I never found her or knew what happened. To be honest, I had no clue. I did everything I could to find her. She just vanished. Goddamit. They knew she was still alive and didn’t tell me. Those fucking bastards,” Chris says as he caresses her pale face.

  As his fingers lightly touch her skin, her eyelids begin to flutter. Chris can’t take his eyes off of her. As she starts to regain consciousness, we notice needle marks up and down her arms. He runs his fingers over her arms and touches her puncture marks. Her mouth is taped just like the others.

  Chris begins to remove it. I stop him.

  “I wouldn’t do that. I know you love her and miss her, but you’ve been apart for so long. You don’t know how she’s going to react. She may scream and give us away or she may bite. Neither will help.”

  Chris replaces the tape, heeding my warning.

  “Look at her,” he says. “She’s lost so much weight and she was already too thin. Her beautiful hair is all lifeless and matted down. She looks pale and she’s aged far beyond her years. How did she get down here anyway? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Maybe the people in charge didn’t know you two were an item?”

  “Everybody knew.”

  “I guess that’s another mystery we need to uncover.”

  Chris stands there and looks at her lying on the table.

  “Marie,” Chris lowers his face down to hers and whispers into her ear. “Can you hear me, Marie?”

  She opens her eyes. Chris smiles.

  “Marie. Baby. What happened to you?”

  Restrained and unable to speak, all she does is stare at us.

  “Do you remember me?” he asks, hoping she does.

  She nods her head. Her eyes begin to get red and glassy. She starts to tear up and cry.

  “I’m so sorry, Marie. I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t know about any of this, but we know now and we’re gonna get you outta here. We’re gonna get you better.”

  Marie starts to make some noise.

  Chris goes to remove her gag. “Marie, I’m going to remove the tape, but you need to be quiet. We won’t get very far if you cause a scene, OK?”

  She nods again.

  With confidence in her word, Chris removes the tape and Marie remains silent. She moves her lips, but doesn’t speak.

  “Marie, can you talk? I can’t hear you.”

  “Chris? Is that really you or am I hallucinating again?”

  “It’s me, baby.”

  “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “I... I didn’t think I would ever see you again. I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby. Can you tell us what happened to you?”

  “No. I can’t. I can’t remember anything about what happened to me. I don’t even know how long I’ve been down here. Trapped. All I remember is your face and how many times I’ve wanted to die because I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Do you remember anything about the people who brought you here?”

  “No,” she said, “they all blur together. I’m sorry.” Tears start to stream down the sides of her face.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. Listen. This is Jane. You might remember her from Scarlet Peak. Together, we’re trying to figure out what’s going on, who’s behind all this, and if there’s an actual cure out there.”

  “OK,” Marie replies, “get me out of these things and I’ll help.”

  “I can’t right now. If you’re gone, someone will notice. You gotta stay here for a little while—”

  Just then, we hear a door open and the footsteps of someone coming this way.

  “We have to hide. And fast,” Chris whispers with urgency.

  Chris and I look around and spot a whole row of lockers on the other side of the room.

  “I’m sorry,” Chris says to Marie as he replaces the tape on her mouth. “Pretend you’re asleep, OK? We can’t let anyone see us down here.”

  We sprint quietly to the narrow lockers on the opposite side of the room and hop in. My heart is beating fast from the dash over here. My whole body is primed for flight mode, but I’m stuck in a metal box instead. I try to calm my breathing so I don’t give away our position.

  The locker obscures my vision, but I can see a little through the horizontal slits in the top of the locker. Seconds later, I see a young woman enter my field of view and walk around the lab. From what I can tell, she can’t have been more than a few years younger than me. She opens a cabinet and I hear loud rubber sounds as she puts on what look to be protective latex gloves. She moves from table to table from comatose body to body. Checking in on each person. Greeting them. Talking to them even though they aren’t responding to her. Acting as if they are patients and not test subjects or guinea pigs.

  I’m trying to be still, but getting nervous and biting my nails. She’s coming uncomfortably closer and closer to us. As she nears us, I’m wishing that I could talk to Chris, but any whisper or sound would catch her attention. It’s so quiet in here.

  She’s still coming closer. I’m freaking out. She’s going to find us. If we get caught, what will happen to Jack? He’s all alone. I close my eyes and try to focus on relaxing my breathing so as to make it less noisy.

  I can see her walk right past the lockers. She’s so close that I can smell her perfume permeating the metal tin can I’m in. Please go away. Please go away, I pray. I wonder what Chris is thinking right now?

  My breathing exercises aren’t working. She’s walking right toward me. Oh shit. She opens my locker door.

  “Hello,” startled, I greet her, not knowing what to say.

  “Ah!” she’s definitely surprised, putting her hand over her chest. I guess her heart is beating out of her chest too right about now.

  “Shh!”

  “Wha—What are you doing in there? Who are you?”

  “Uhh,” I reply, unsure about what to reveal, “that’s a good question.”

  “Tell me or else I’m calling security. It goes without saying that they don’t like people who trespass in highly restricted areas.”

  She begins to walk away, but I grab her arm before she’s out of reach.

  “Let go of me!”

  “Please don’t go. I won’t hurt you. I promise. I can explain everything.”

  It’s at that moment Chris springs into motion. He explodes out of his locker and grabs the woman questioning me, covering her mouth. “Keep quiet. Don’t scream or you’ll be dead before help arrives. Agreed?”

  She nods and makes a muffled “uh-huh” sound.

  “Chris, relax. She was just asking me a question. Considering she found me in her locker and I probably scared the crap outta her, it’s quite a reasonable one.”

  “What’s your name?” Chris probes. “And I don’t have to tell you not to scream, right?”

  She starts to speak and Chris removes his hand from her mouth.

  “My name is Elizabeth, but people call me Liz.”

  “Nice to meet you, Liz,” I say.

  “I wish I could say the same.”

  “Why are you down here? What are you doing to these people?” Chris continues to question her.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Believe me. We care. Answer the question.”

  She looks at me.

  “You’ll probably want to answer him. That woman lying in the first bed on the right was—is—his girlfriend and she’s been missing, presumed dead, for years. Now he finds her and she’s all drugged up and wasting away. Needless to say, he’s not happy.”

  She stops struggling against Chris. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t know.”

  “We get that, but what are you doing down here? You’re talking to these people like they’re awake and responsive.”
>
  “I’m just an intern. I’m working with the infectious disease unit.”

  “Infectious diseases?”

  “Yes. I was told these people are infected with a disease that causes them to turn into zombies.”

  “Why aren’t you wearing protective gear then?”

  “We’re pretty confident the only risk of infection is through the transfer of bodily fluids. That’s why they’re strapped to the tables and their mouths are securely covered. Plus no one except authorized individuals are allowed in here, which is why you shouldn’t be here.”

  “And what kind of work are you doing here?”

  “Taking blood samples. Injecting potential cures. Monitoring reactions and results.”

  “Monitoring results? How are these people doing?”

  “I can’t discuss results with you.”

  “You can’t?”

  “No, I can’t. That would be a breach of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “Don’t you also have an oath to do no harm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I think what you’re doing is harming these patients. And it’s my duty to stop you.”

  “What?”

  Chris pulls out his weapon and points it at her. “How about now? Can you discuss their results now?”

  Liz freezes and her eyes open wide.

  “Chris, let’s not get crazy, alright? Put it away,” I shoot him a look and then turn my attention back to Liz.

  Chris holsters his gun.

  “Listen. Let’s start over. I think we got started on the wrong foot.”

  “Ya think?”

  “My name is Jane. This is Chris. We need your help, Liz.”

  I grab her hand and walk her over to Marie. Chris follows us.

  “See this woman. This woman’s name is Marie. And she’s Chris’s girlfriend, whom he loves very much. He thought she was dead after the zombie outbreak at Scarlet Peak University many years ago, but now sees her here, dying, maybe in pain, wasting away as part of your experimental unit. Can you understand why he’s so upset?”

  Liz looks at Marie’s chart.

  “She’s subject 126.”

  “No. Her name is Marie,” Chris interjects.