by Gayle Katz
“I know that’s how you see it. Can we forget about that for a moment? Did you see the news?”
“Yes. I did.”
“I didn’t kill that reporter. You have to believe me.”
“I believe you, but that doesn’t matter.”
“This whole thing is wrong and you know it. C’mon. What are we supposed to do now?”
“You have two options. One: turn yourselves in, accept the consequences of your actions, and pray for leniency.”
“You know I can’t do that. I’m doing the right thing here. What’s the other option?”
“Option Two: Go to Mexico, Canada, get outta the country, and take your crew with you. You’re basically fucked. You gotta disappear and disappear fast.”
“I can’t do that either. I have people with me who are sick. These people need treatment. They won’t make it anywhere in their current conditions. The drugs we have aren’t working anymore and they need help. We won’t get it if we disappear.”
“I’m sorry, Chris. I know you mean well and I’m sorry for your friends, but I can’t help.”
“Joe…”
The line goes dead and Chris drops the phone to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes to me.
I did not understand, “Sorry for what? Helping us? Don’t forget. We called you. Remember? We can’t give up now. There’s got to be another way. We just have to find it.”
Something is stirring behind us. Chris and I turn to investigate. Ah. It’s just Liz getting up.
“I didn’t mean to startle you and I certainly don’t mean to interrupt,” Liz says quietly, “but I’m sorry to hear about Aaron.”
“Me too.” Chris taps the phone with his foot.
“On the bright side, I might have an option you haven’t thought about yet,” Liz has an idea.
Chris and I look at her. Curious. “Why didn’t you mention it earlier?” I ask her.
Liz shrugs, “To be honest, your plan sounded better. I really thought it was going to work. I’m sorry it didn’t.”
Chris agrees, “Me too. Let’s not dwell on it, OK? I already feel horrible about getting him killed. Tell us what you’re thinking.”
Liz warns us, “It’s a long shot. A real long shot actually.”
Chris shares his assessment and openness to anything, “That’s about all we have right now. At this point, I’ll be happy if we have any shot at all.”
“OK. So here’s what I’m thinking. A few months ago, I met this nice woman at a hospital function while I was still a fourth year med student. We talked about my interest in infectious diseases and she introduced me to her husband. She mentioned that he’s a researcher at some pharmaceutical company and maybe he could pull some strings, put in a good word, and get me an internship in the Infectious Disease department at the hospital. If we just go to her and tell her what’s going on, she’ll help.”
“You don’t think she’s on the take too? Like everyone else?” Chris’s trust level is shot with how the world is closing in around us.
“I don’t believe she would compromise her morals for anything.”
“And you really think she’d help us?” I ask.
“Yes, definitely. She’s a great lady. She told me she went into infectious diseases to help people who can’t help themselves. Right now, she’s a full-time mom. She hung up her lab coat in order to start a family, but it’s in her blood to help people.”
“Interesting. What do you know about her husband?” Chris wonders.
“Well, he got me my internship for one, which he didn’t have to do. She told me they met while doing concurrent fellowships halfway around the world. There was an outbreak of cholera and they went to help. They were treating the same patient and that’s how they bumped into each other. They both seem like great people.”
I know it’s not the best suggestion, but it’s the only card we have to play now. I look over at Chris and try to put on an encouraging face. “It sounds promising. And it’s not as if we have many options.”
Chris thinks it over for a moment, and then realizes there is no other choice. “You can say that again. Let’s give it a whirl, shall we?”
Chris bends down to pick up the phone, then decides it's time to rally the troops, “We’ve stayed here too long as it is. Let’s gather our stuff and get moving. Liz, can you gather up our medical supplies? Jack and Laura are going to need them. Jane, help Jack to the car. I’ll get Laura ready to go.”
I turn around and see Jack still sleeping. Damn, he can sleep through anything. He looks so peaceful. I don’t want to disturb him, but I don’t have a choice.
“Jack,” I whisper into his ear. “Time to wake up.”
“Hmmm?”
“Our plan... uh... it didn’t work out.”
“It didn’t?”
“No.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah. That’s what I said, but then Liz came up with a good idea so we’ve got to get going.”
“Alright. Just give me a minute to wake up.”
“How are ya feeling?”
“I’ve felt better. Could you hand me the sports drink from the nightstand?”
I reach for the drink and hand it to him. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He gulps the rest of the bottle down and begins to perk up a bit. “Can you help me up? My joints are a little achy today.”
“Sure. Hold on to me.” I pull him up. We’re face-to-face.
He looks at me and I look away.
“Stop feeling guilty. The only way we’re going to get out of this mess is if some of us keep a clear head and figure it out. Unfortunately, I can’t help much this time around.”
“I’ll take care of you. Chris and I will figure it out. And then we’ll be able to have that honeymoon we were planning before the shit hit the fan again.”
“Sounds good, Gorgeous. Now help me to the car.” I gather some of our things and help Jack to the garage. Rocky follows us.
Once Jack and I load ourselves into the backseat of the car, Laura is to my right and Rocky jumps onto my lap. Chris hops into the driver’s seat. Liz is on the passenger side. She turns around and is facing the backseat. Rocky licks her face.
“If Jack or Laura begin to fade, make sure they drink.”
“I know the drill.” I smile. “I’ve been through it myself.”
“Ah. I didn’t realize that. I also packed the rest of the zombie suppressant shots into Chris’s bag. I’ve regimented their treatment to once every twenty-four hours again to help ration supplies. If we don’t find more, we’ll run out in a day or two, but the buildup in their system should give us some additional time. I think.”
“I understand. Thanks again for all your help.” I thank her. The dwindling supplies suck, but the way things are going, we aren't going to last another couple of days. And that has nothing to do with lack of supplies.
Chris diverts Liz's attention back to the front seat, “OK, Liz. Which way do we go?”
Chapter 12
________________________________________
Twenty-minutes later, we pull up in front of a large, brick house. It’s a mansion really, complete with a fancy car in the driveway.
“Is this where we’re going?” Chris asks.
“Yeah and it looks like she’s home. Gimme a minute to knock on the door. I’ll let you know if it’s safe to come in,” Liz replies.
Chris doesn’t trust anyone or anything anymore, “Are you sure about checking it out alone?”
She does her best to reassure him and the rest of us, “I’ll only be a minute. If all goes well, she’ll invite us in. If things happen to turn to shit, we can get away. Wish me luck.”
Chris nods, his hand resting on his trusty sidearm, “You got it. Good luck.”
Liz exits the car. We watch her walk up the sidewalk until she gets to the front door. She knocks and stands there waiting. After a couple of minutes, the door opens and I see a smiling woman appear. I can’t see much from our angle,
but everything seems nice enough. They greet each other with hugs. That’s encouraging.
Chris continues to eye the whole situation with utter suspicion, “I hope it wasn’t a mistake to let her go alone. Anything can happen. She could turn us in or be ambushed.”
I did my best to allay his concern, “She’s proven herself so far. And they appear to be getting along. Stop worrying so much. I believe she’s on our side and wants to help.”
Chris is still like a crouched cheetah, ready to pounce, “Stop worrying? That might be difficult since we just got Aaron killed. We can’t trust anyone. That’s why I’m a little on edge.”
Liz and our would-be hostess continue talking for a while. I can see their mouths moving, but can’t make out what they’re saying. A few minutes later, Liz waves us in. Chris pulls the car into the driveway and we hop out. Liz comes to help get Laura and Jack into the house.
“You sure everything’s cool here?” I question, with Rocky right on my heels.
“Yes. She was a little hesitant when we first started talking, but I explained. We can trust her.”
We plop Jack and Laura down on the couch and Liz proceeds to treat them for their sickness. While she’s doing that, she makes introductions.
“Kelly, please meet Chris, Laura, Jack, Jane, and this handsome guy is Rocky.” Liz pats the dog’s head. He sniffs and licks her hand. “Everybody, please meet Kelly. She’s a great lady and wants to help us.”
“Liz explained a little at the door, but could you tell me more about what’s going on so I can figure out how to best help?” Kelly seeks further clarification.
I do my best to bring her up to speed, “I’ll tell you what we know... or what we think we know. We believe the government, hospital, law enforcement, really anyone with power is trying to manipulate the zombie sickness in some way.”
“Manipulate how? Like trying to figure out a cure?” Kelly does not fully understand the implications.
I do my best to fill in the blanks. “Yeah. Maybe, but we recently discovered a secret, underground section of the hospital that’s quarantined. They have people, whom they’re treating like guinea pigs. Taking samples of their blood, injecting them with concoctions of Lord knows what, and some of these people have been there for years.”
“How do you know that?” she asks.
Chris chimes in, “We’ve seen it with our own eyes. My old girlfriend. She—I thought she was dead, but she turned up in this off-limits section of the hospital. From what I can tell, I don’t see any bite marks on her. Without those bite marks, the only conclusion I can come to is that they infected her and are testing serums on her, to see how her body reacts.”
Chris begins to tear up so I continue, putting my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “And we’ve seen documentation that indicates the government is instructing hospitals to track the progress of the virus from initial infection through to ultimate conversion.”
“Where’s this documentation?” As a former medical researcher, Kelly seeks empirical evidence.
“We gave it to the reporter, Aaron Maddock,” I reply.
“The reporter who was found dead this morning?” Kelly looks concerned.
“Yeah. Him.” I nod.
“It’s all over the news that Chris Ailis killed him.” Kelly refers to the official report on what happened.
Chris cannot stand the ludicrous accusation, “That’s a lie. They’re trying to frame me. They’re afraid of us. They want to stop us. They know we’re on to them. They want to cash in on the zombie sickness and it doesn’t matter who gets in the way.”
Liz weighs in on the matter based on what she heard and knows of the industry, “Kelly, you know how much money is at stake when a new antidote or cure is found. With all the people infected by this virus, powerful people stand a chance to make a lot of money here. Recurring revenue from people who buy the treatment, even more money from those who can afford a cure, and don’t forget about the lingering psychological effects of being a zombie, killing and eating people, realizing what you did when you’re cured, and coming to terms with it. That’s gotta be the absolute worst.”
“I know,” she says with a sad face.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asks.
“It might be easier to show you.” Kelly leaves us alone in the living room.
Chris starts acting anxious, “I don’t feel good about this. Should we go?”
“Chill out.” I make another attempt to placate him.
Moments later, Kelly comes back with a little girl.
“Who’s this?” I ask.
“This is Julie. Say hi, Julie.”
“Hi!” the little blonde girl smiles and waves.
“Hi Julie.” I wave back.
“Show these nice people your boo-boo,” Kelly asks her child.
Kelly helps her roll up her sleeve and Julie sticks out her arm, following her mother’s instructions. She has a bite mark that’s still in the process of healing.
In the spirit of showing zombie bite mark scars, I push back my shirtsleeve and show them mine. “See? I have one too.”
Liz is curious at how well the child is doing relative to Laura and especially Jack, “Kelly, what are you giving her to combat the sickness?”
Kelly confesses, “I’m not sure exactly. Every so often, Marc brings home experimental drugs. Some seem to help. Others make her sick. Right now, we’re giving her something Marc developed in the lab.” She walks over to the desk and pulls out the current injectables.
Liz studies it, “Hmmm. I wonder if this is the same stuff I’m using at the hospital? I guess it’s working, though. She seems fine right now.”
Kelly is less than thrilled, “For now, yes. But it’s not a cure. How is she going to grow up and be normal if she’s got to remember to inject herself everyday? That’s a big responsibility.”
“If you help us, she might be fine. Laura and Jack need the cure too.” I assure her our goals are not strictly limited to our small group.
Kelly conveys her frustration, “What can I do? I haven’t been in the lab for years now. I put that life behind me in order to raise our daughter.”
Chris tells her exactly what to do, “You can go to the research facility and talk to your husband. See if he has a cure or knows why it’s taking so long to develop one. Your daughter deserves better and the people in the hospital, some have been quarantined there for years. Marie, my girlfriend, went missing during the Scarlet Peak incident over five years ago. She’s there and needs our help. If they have a working treatment or a cure and are just holding out on us for some reason, that’s not right.”
“I don’t know.” Kelly is not sure to what extent she should be involved.
“You’re a doctor. Your husband is a doctor. You’ve taken an oath to help people. That’s the only thing we’re asking you to do. Help people,” Liz pleads.
Kelly looks at the vial being used to treat her daughter, and knows in her heart where her obligation and loyalties lie, “I’ll do what I can.”
Liz smiles. “I know you will. Do it for your daughter. She deserves at least that much, right?”
Kelly looks down at little Julie, her eyes sparkling as she holds back tears, “Yeah. She does.”
Chris continues to mask his personal pain by pointing the finger at their next lead, “And if there’s someone on the inside who’s cooking up these treatments or knows what’s going on, it’s your husband.”
Kelly is not keen on the notion of accusing her husband of anything other than trying to be a good father, husband, and doctor, and convincing the rest of us of the same, “I’ll go talk to him now. If we explain what’s going on, he’ll help. I just know he will.”
“I’m not sure it’ll be that easy. People have been killed because of whatever is going on in that lab. It’s dangerous. You’re gonna need some backup,” Liz stresses.
“We’ll go with her. You’re needed here.” Chris suggests.
“Kelly, are you OK with that?” L
iz double-checks with her friend.
Kelly’s voice is unsure, but it seems she is willing to trust Liz at her word. “Sure. They seem like nice people. Can you watch Julie?”
“Of course.” Liz takes the little girl's hand from her mommy.
Kelly makes a suggestion to not bring any extra, unwanted attention while they sort things out, “If the authorities are looking for you, let’s take my car.”
Chris stops the group for a second, and pulls some electronics out of his bag, “Before we go, it might be helpful if you wear a wire. That way we can hear what’s going on if we get separated. Maybe get some evidence that’ll exonerate me.”
Kelly does not like the idea of being deceptive to her husband, “If he finds out I’m wearing a wire, he’s going to be angry.”
“Why would he get angry?” I ask.
Kelly explains, “It’s a trust thing. If you don’t have trust in a marriage, you don’t have anything.”
I understand her perspective, but still must advocate for the greater good, “I see where you’re coming from, but if he’s not doing anything wrong, he’s got nothing to worry about. In fact, he should be happy you’re looking out for your daughter’s best interests. Plus, the device is so tiny, he’s not going to find anything, even if he’s looking for it.”
“Fine. What do I need to do?” Kelly replies.
“First, just relax. See this little quarter sized object here?” Chris holds the microphone between his thumb and pointer finger. “All we’re gonna do is pop this into your handbag, activate it, and you’re good to go. See? Nothing crazy.”
Kelly looks surprised. “That’s not bad. I thought you were gonna have to tape a wire to my chest or something.”
“You need to stop watching cop shows from the 80s and 90s,” Chris jokes.
***
Chris and I are hiding in the backseat as Kelly is driving to her husband’s office lab.
She's been a good, albeit reluctant sport. “He’s gonna know something’s up. I never visit him at work.”
“Just stay cool and everything’ll be OK,” I say. “If he’s involved in this madness, yeah, he’ll be a little suspicious, but we need to find out what’s going on. We’re talking about people’s lives here. Ya know?”
