Dead, But Not For Long (Book 2): Pestilence and Promise

by Kinney, Matthew

  “Can you see it without the light?” she asked, knowing that the microscope light used electricity.

  “This one has a battery-operated light,” he said.

  She already knew what he’d find, so it wasn’t a surprise, merely a disappointment, when he slowly straightened and shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Can I see?” she asked, having expected the same results.

  He moved aside so that she could see her infected blood under the microscope. She looked for a long time before stepping away.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked. “I can give you some pain medication if you want it.”

  “No,” Autumn replied. “I mean, it hurts, but I don’t want painkillers. Not strong ones, at least. I don’t want to be a zombie any sooner than I have to.”

  “I’ll give you a mild painkiller. Tell me if you change your mind and need something stronger,” he said, taking down a bottle from one of his shelves. “These will take the edge off of the pain.”

  He put the two pills down in front of her along with a glass of water. After she took the pills, Dr. Doune lifted the bandage, and Autumn bent her neck to look. So far, it looked like an ordinary wound, though she knew that would change soon. From what they had seen so far on bite victims, the wounds seemed to change quickly, probably as soon as the infection made its way through the body.

  “How long do you think it’s going to take?” Autumn asked as Doune replaced the bandage.

  “I don’t really know,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “It could be a day or two. The survivors that came in today said the outbreak at the school was caused by a boy who hadn’t had any contact with the dead for a couple days, at least.”

  “That’s kind of weird, isn’t it? Dr. Winston just had a tiny scratch, and he was dead in a few hours.”

  “He wasn’t very healthy,” Doune pointed out. “When I did the autopsy, I found heart disease and other issues.”

  “I’m not all that healthy, either, remember?”

  Doune had no reply for her.

  Autumn knew it was true. Because of the cancer and all of the treatments she’d been through, her body was still struggling to repair itself. Within an hour, the wound should be appearing infected, and she would start feeling ill.

  “You are too crying!” she said suddenly, pointing to a tear on his cheek.

  “I am not,” he said, wiping it away. “It’s the allergies.”

  “I think it’s cool that someone is crying for me. I’ll bet Lindsey will cry, too, when she finds out.”

  “I’m sure she will,” Dr. Doune said.

  “So why don’t you want to admit you’re crying?” she asked.

  Doune sighed and sat down beside her.

  “I haven’t cried for anybody since I was a child.”

  “Then I guess I should feel honored.”

  “If I were crying,” he said.

  “Right. Allergies.”

  “I intentionally do not form emotional relationships because they only lead to pain. I have made a point of keeping myself distant from others.”

  “What about your wife?” Autumn asked. “Aren’t you married?”

  “Especially her,” he said. “I decided that if I didn’t get too attached, I wouldn’t get upset if she divorced me.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “I don’t know. I need to go check the house one of these days, I guess.”

  “That’s kind of messed up,” Autumn told him.

  “You’re probably right,” he said.

  “Okay, so I still want to know why you’re sad about me dying, then.”

  “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” he asked.

  “Not a chance.”

  “I guess it’s because you’re a lot like me,” he said. “Maybe you’re a representation of that child I never had.”

  “Did you want to have kids?”

  “No. I assume you don’t want to waste any time resting right now,” he said, looking like he desperately wanted to change the subject. “Would you like to play a game of chess or Monopoly?”

  ~*~

  “Dr. Sharma will be here to check on you soon,” Hawk told Debbie, still holding her hand.

  “What’s the point?” she asked through her tears.

  “She can at least make you comfortable,” Hawk said.

  The doctor arrived a few minutes later. She told Debbie how sorry she was then asked if she could see the wound. It was already beginning to darken around the edge, and there was a hint of the green slimy fluid that the living dead seemed to bear.

  “Do you want morphine?” she asked.

  Debbie nodded. “I don’t want to feel it,” she said.

  Dr. Sharma carefully hooked up an IV and got the morphine going before turning to Hawk. “She’s going to have to be strapped down. We can’t risk a repeat of what happened earlier.”

  He started to protest, but she said, “This is not negotiable. Straps and a locked room.”

  “I’m staying with her,” Hawk told Dr. Sharma, “and that is not negotiable.”

  “That’s fine as long as she’s strapped down,” Dr. Sharma said. She squeezed Debbie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Debbie. I hope you understand.”

  “I do,” she said. “Straps are fine. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

  Dr. Sharma fixed the restraints in place, touching the nurse’s shoulder once more before leaving the room.

  Hawk reached over to take Debbie’s hand again. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice starting to slur from the morphine.

  “I should have gone into the room first to check it out.”

  “Bull was in there. I thought it was safe,” she said, turning her head to look at him. “Are you going to kill me?”

  He let out a long breath and looked away before replying.

  “I won’t do anything while you’re still alive,” he said, “but I won’t let you revive.”

  “Thank you,” she said in a whisper.

  He sat with her as she dozed off. No matter what she said, he blamed himself.

  When she woke again she wanted to talk, and he listened to stories about her life that would be lost forever unless he remembered them. He listened intently, knowing that it was all he could do for her. When she fell asleep again, he lifted the bandage and checked her wound. It appeared to be getting worse.

  ~*~

  Autumn smiled at the doctor’s suggestion. She was quite the chess player and preferred playing adults, as she hadn’t met any kids that could compete with her. She knew that Dr. Doune was intelligent and would be a worthy adversary. It would sure beat lying in bed and waiting to die, she thought.

  “Let’s play chess,” she said.

  “I should have known. You don’t seem like the Monopoly type.”

  A gruff-looking biker opened the door and stuck his head in.

  “We’ve had an outbreak on the top floor. We’re going to have to lock down the stairs until we’re sure it’s under control.”

  The biker quickly closed the door, opening it again to free the tip of his beard.

  Doune and Autumn watched silently as the biker closed the door again before Doune went and got the chess set out. He cleared a place on the table then pulled his rolling office chair over and began to set up the board. The first game went slowly as they studied each other’s techniques.

  Autumn knew that Dr. Doune was watching her when he didn’t think she was looking, but he hadn’t made any comments so far. She wondered if she was getting dark circles around her eyes yet. She imagined the parasite multiplying in her body, and at times could swear that she could feel them. In her mind, every itch was a microscopic creature burrowing through her flesh, working its way through her bloodstream with the goal of hijacking her brain. A shiver passed through her, and she tried to bury her thoughts in the game, trying to make the best of what little time she had left.


  ~*~

  Snake finally began to see the familiar streets that meant they were almost home. It had been difficult getting across town, and they’d finally given up on the planned route, opting instead to circle around the outskirts of the city. They’d had a close call when Wolf had been pulled off his bike by a small mob of the undead. Fortunately, Snake and the others had made short work of them before they could infect or kill the biker. It had taken them a while to find the shop and even longer to locate the right parts. They had picked up everything on the list, and even a few things that weren’t listed, knowing they didn’t want to ever have to make the trip again.

  They’d been gone for hours and were all exhausted after the grueling day. Snake hoped they wouldn’t need to make another trip out for a few days because he’d had enough action to last him a while. When they finally saw the hospital, it was a huge relief.

  Lindsey jumped off Wombat’s bike and moved the truck that formed the end of the car wall. Once all the bikes had passed through, she moved the vehicle back into place and rejoined the others.

  The gate was unmanned, which surprised Snake, since someone should have heard the bikes approaching.

  When Moose finally answered the radio and promised to be right out, Snake knew that something was wrong just by the tone of the other biker’s voice.

  “Boss, we had an outbreak,” Moose finally said, once everybody was safely inside.

  “How bad?” Snake asked.

  “We lost Bull,” Moose said, as he walked toward the building with Snake.

  Snake felt a stab of pain at the thought of losing another of his men. His next thought was to wonder just how it had happened, but he wanted everybody together before he started piecing together the details.

  “Anybody else?” he asked.

  “Dr. Martinez and a couple of the patients. One of the nurses got bit, too.”

  “Which one?” Snake asked.

  “Debbie,” Moose said. “The one with the red hair.”

  “She still alive?”

  “So far,” Moose said. “Hawk’s with her and she’s strapped down. Dr. Sharma insisted this time.”

  “What do you mean ‘this time’?” Snake asked.

  “The guy we rescued from the rubble couldn’t be strapped down. He had broken ribs, and his wrists and ankles were scraped up.”

  “He should have been strapped down anyway,” Snake said, frowning. “They could have put some padding under the straps or something.”

  “I guess Dr. Martinez said not to do it,” Moose shrugged.

  “Bad move,” Snake said. “I take it the guy was infected?”

  “Must have been. Bull was in the room with him, and they were the only two that turned.”

  “Has it been contained?”

  “Yes,” Moose said.

  Snake stopped near the elevator to address Moose and the others who had joined them. “After quarantine, I want to talk to anybody that was on duty on the fifth floor when this happened. Let the others know.”

  “That’s going to be like 2:00 in the morning, Boss,” Fish pointed out.

  “It’s 6:30 now, dude,” Snake said, shaking his head. “It’ll be 9:30.”

  Jack and Wrench walked over. As soon as Wrench got the parts he needed from Snake, he hurried off to the generator room. Jack escorted the group up to the quarantine room, giving them a few more details on the incident.

  “It happened fast,” Jack said. “By the time I got up there, it was all over.”

  “I told Moose I want to talk to him and the others once quarantine is over,” Snake said. “I want to know how this happened.”

  “You and me, both,” Jack agreed.

  ~*~

  Several minutes and a few captured pieces later, Autumn realized that not only was the doctor not going easy on her, but he was beating her quite badly. It was time, she thought, for plan B. Grabbing her arm, she winced in pain.

  “I-I think I may need some stronger aspirin or something if you don’t mind.”

  She buried her head in her hands and peeked out through her fingers.

  When Doune left for the painkillers, Autumn did some quick rearranging. She knew that the doctor would notice if his pieces were out of place, but she doubted that he had memorized hers. All she had to do now was switch her rook for her bishop, and Doune would be in check in a couple of moves unless he noticed the change. If she distracted him with whimpers of pain, she reasoned, he would fall into her trap. When he returned, she held her arm and gritted her teeth, trying not to be overdramatic.

  Doune placed two caplets and a cup of water on the table. “Let me see your arm,” he said, expressionless.

  Autumn watched as he carefully peeled back the tape and pulled the bandage away. She knew that the wound should be turning colors by now, but she was surprised to see that it hadn’t changed.

  “That’s odd,” Doune said. “If anything, it looks better than it did before, but your pain is obviously worse. Perhaps it’s moving a little slower in you than it did in the others, Autumn.”

  He did a quick assessment. “No fever. No change in skin color or in your eyes.”

  “They aren’t all dark yet?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’m okay,” Autumn said, popping the caplets into her mouth. “Let’s just finish this game, and maybe I can rest while the painkillers are starting to work.”

  She waited anxiously to see if Dr. Doune would notice the minor adjustments she had made.

  “It’s your turn,” she said, still rubbing her arm.

  Doune sat down and studied the board for a moment before lifting his head slowly and regarding Autumn with one raised eyebrow.

  “Perhaps I forgot to mention that I have a photographic memory. I don’t remember everything I’ve ever seen, but I tend to remember some things in almost photographic detail, like the position our pieces were in before your little emergency. Now, tell me, Autumn, are you truly in that much pain or was that a ploy to distract me?”

  Autumn sighed and spit the soggy pills onto the table before leaning back in her chair.

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” she asked. “Actually, I feel pretty good. I just don’t like losing.”

  “I don’t blame you,” he said. “I don’t like losing, either.”

  ~*~

  Jack left the group at quarantine and made his way down to the generator room to see if Wrench needed any help.

  “Did they get everything you needed?” he asked.

  “Everything I put on the list and then some,” Wrench said, wiping some grease from his hands. “Haven’t had time to check part numbers, so I’m hoping they’re right.”

  He held up the new injector pump, comparing it with the old one he’d removed. It was a match.

  “Can you handle the filters while I put these in?” Wrench asked Jack.

  “Yeah, they’re pretty much idiot-proof, aren’t they?” Jack replied, smirking.

  The duo went to work.

  ~*~

  As time passed, Debbie grew delirious with fever. Dr. Sharma came to check on her, and the look that she gave Hawk said it all. The woman wasn’t going to last much longer.

  When Debbie woke again, she smiled at Hawk, but he had the feeling that she wasn’t really seeing him. She called him Chad and told him she missed him. He just squeezed her hand and said that he was glad she was there with him.

  When her eyes opened again, she looked past Hawk to a spot somewhere above his left shoulder, speaking to someone or something that was visible to her eyes only. Hawk turned to glance over his shoulder, though he was certain that they were alone in the room.

  “I’m ready,” she murmured, eyes still fixed on something he couldn’t see.

  She squeezed Hawk’s hand tightly and closed her eyes, letting out a long, rattling breath. When her grip on his hand loosened, Hawk dropped his head. After a long moment, he pulled his hand away from hers and called for Dr. Sharma, who checked the woman’s vitals.


  “I’m sorry, Hawk. She’s gone,” she said, touching his shoulder before leaving the room again.

  Hawk dreaded the task ahead of him, but he couldn’t allow Debbie to become something terrible. He pulled out his pike and looked at it. Normally, he would pierce the eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that to Debbie. He rolled her over and placed the pike at the back of her skull then drove it up into her brain with one hard shove. When he turned her onto her back again, there was no sign of trauma, yet she looked nothing like she had looked in life. Her eyes were dark and sunken, and her skin had a gray tint to it. He hoped that he wouldn’t remember her that way.

  Letting out a long breath, he sat for a moment with his head in his hands. Was life ever going to get better, or was this just a sample of what it was going to be like from now on? He stayed for a few minutes before standing again and covering the body.

  “Goodbye, Debbie,” he whispered, turning to leave the room.

  ~*^*~

  ~25~

  St. Mary’s Hospital, Lansing

  “Are you any good at poker?” Autumn asked the doctor after they’d played two more games of chess. She had lost all three games, but the last one had been close.

  “Poker?” Doune asked, standing up. The room was beginning to darken with the dimming daylight, and he pulled out a pack of matches from a desk drawer and lit a lantern. As he carried it back, Autumn watched the shadows in the room grow large then shrink again with the swaying of the lamp.

  “You’ve heard of poker,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a game . . . you play it with cards.”

  “I know what poker is. I’ve just never played it,” he said. “I guess I could try it if you wouldn’t mind teaching me how to play.”

  Doune had just placed the lantern on the table when the lights went back on.

  “I think I’ll leave it on for a while, just in case.”