by Hamrick, R M
Ziv watched in horror of his keep’s anguish. Dwyn nudged Ziv into action and they both worked to get him onto the middle patient bed. Mary rushed to give him some painkillers through his IV, which she was thankful was still in place. Audra smiled over their success. These half zoms would be worthless.
“He wasn’t ready to be cured. You should have waited for his body to heal,” said Ryder. Her face wrinkled in tears.
“No time,” said Audra, daring Ryder to argue.
The man whimpered as the narcotics took their course. He’d be OK. This was worth it.
Ryder grimaced and rolled over, no longer facing them. Audra turned back to Ziv. “What’s next?”
“I need the trailer dimensions, number of infected, and size and number of exterior holes.”
“You got it, Ziv.” She turned to leave.
“Audra?” She turned back. “I don’t know about the corral. But this - this cure - it’s going to be a good thing.”
Only because he didn’t know the rest of her plan.
Audra nodded.
“I won’t let you down,” he assured her.
* * *
Satomi scribbled furiously the protocol she’d follow for the peptide synthesis. She sketched out the portions of the peptide she understood. This work table, mottled with indentations and stains, had become her table.
Eli approached her with caution and sat down next to her.
“What is it, Eli?” she asked. Was it sundown already? She wished she could work on this in perpetuity. The idea was brilliant, but the work was hard. She should have a team. Maybe she could work a deal to recruit Gordon and Ziv. Her mind reeled at the possibilities.
“I’m not sure you should experiment on Peter,” he blurted out.
Eli had become a permanent fixture and occasional sounding board in her laboratory. They both really liked Peter. Was he worried about him?
Satomi set her pencil down and looked at him.
“You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure the peptide works in vitro first... that is, outside the body. And, if it doesn’t work inside Peter and he gets fully infected with the z-virus, then we have a cure.”
“It’s just, he’s not -” started Eli, but he was interrupted by the door opening behind them.
Eli got up from his stool with a creak and scraping against the metal floor. He spoke with the other man in hushed voices. Satomi tried to remember which branch of the peptide she was working on.
“Satomi?” called out Eli.
“Mhhm?” she said, not willing to turn and lose her place quite yet.
“Your friends are here to meet with Jack and Jill.”
“Oh!” She turned now, her finger on the spot she was checking. “Do they have the anchor?”
“I don’t know, but you’ll have to attend the meeting,” he said.
Eli and Satomi walked to the meeting area, where Satomi was surprised to see the circle of men around the lawn chairs. Weren’t Jack and Jill over this intimidation thing? The couple entered and could barely sit comfortably with all the extra armor they had donned. Satomi guessed not. The RV’s awning had been pulled back and the sun bore down on the two, casting shadows on their demeanor.
Two familiar faces joined them in the circle. It took Satomi a moment to realize it was Marcos and Audra. It seemed like a lifetime ago, yet suddenly everything she was missing out on came flooding back. Ryder. Osprey Point. Audra did not seem to have any such lapse. Satomi found herself wrapped in a giant hug. It felt foreign.
“Ryder? Did you take the chest tube out?” asked Satomi.
“We did. She’s good. Misses you. Are you OK?”
“I am.”
Audra pulled her to arm’s length again as if to examine her. Audra’s face showed worry. I’m OK, really.
Marcos gave her a pat on the shoulder. His hand felt warm and heavy.
“Are you sure you’re OK?” asked Audra as if seeking a different answer. Wasn’t she OK? She pulled her close again. “I’m going to get you out of here,” Audra whispered.
Satomi’s face buried in Audra’s auburn hair. It felt nice. She did feel isolated here, but she had decided her work was important. Something that needed to be done. Osprey Point could wait. Peter needed her here as a scientist.
Satomi heard Jack clear his throat. They didn’t like being ignored. She looked to Jill. Jill glared.
“I’ve got what you’ve requested,” Audra addressed the two. “But I can’t give it to you until I understand what it’s for.” Marcos stood just behind her, arms crossed.
“I’m – ” started Satomi, excited to tell her what she had learned, but Jill cut her off.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to question us.” She crossed her legs and flicked her braid off her shoulder.
Satomi and Jack looked at each other with puzzled faces. It seemed Jack also didn’t think there was harm in telling Audra what they were doing. It was actually for something good. But he followed his sister’s lead and stayed silent.
Satomi looked to Jill. She was tense in her chair, her knuckles turning white against the white arm rests. Her paling lips were tight with determination. She was refusing to show any weakness, and in turn, no humanity. Satomi’s heart broke for her.
“I think I am,” argued Audra. “I have what you need and I don’t fancy giving it to you if you’re going to use it to make more soldiers or start another epidemic. We need some accountability here. I won’t blindly give this to you when I’m not even going to get Satomi back right away.”
Audra was rambling. Why was she rambling?
“You’ll get Satomi when the project is finished. This supply is just part of an ongoing trade we have with you,” stated Jill.
“A trade? Kidnapping my friend is a trade?” Audra rounded.
The trio argued. Why wouldn’t they just tell Audra what they were doing here? Why this act? The car caught her eye. Was that an act? Satomi wasn’t sure what to do, but felt she might be the only one who could prevent this fight.
* * *
Audra didn’t really care why they wanted the supply. She just needed to buy time.
Dwyn and his four-person team waited off the highway. Dwyn tried to ignore the burrs digging into his arms from their hiding place. He had sent Gordon to scout it out and he reported only five men guarding the half zom trailers. The others must be farther down the convoy or meeting with Audra.
“Glad you’re here, Gordon,” he thanked the man crouched by his side.
Gordon nodded. “I wish I felt as comfortable approaching my family as I do this army.”
Dwyn gave a wry smile. Gordon had made it to the outpost and watched from the woods as his daughter played with her new father. He confided in Dwyn that it felt good to know they were safe, but wanted to wait out this last mission before claiming his own survival.
Dwyn understood. This could easily go south. He pulled a thorn from his elbow.
He could hear Branson and Tess whispering behind him. With Ryder out and Audra and Marcos providing distraction, they’d had to bring rookies out to help. But Dwyn felt they had more than proven themselves when they came out of their homes to fight the half zoms. This was just follow-through.
Behind them, Ziv stood, guarding the tanks they had brought. The green and silver metal cylinders had once carried precious oxygen. Now they carried precious antiviral and propellant. They only had exactly enough, which meant they were probably short, but no one could find another tank in time. Tanks were valuable from the start, and many that had been stolen from their clean environments now lay rusted.
“Tess, come with me. Gordon with Branson. Hit from behind. Disable. Gag. Ziv, stay and keep the tanks safe. Pull out your knife. Have it ready. Everyone got it?” repeated Dwyn.
“What if I need to...?” Branson trailed off.
“Then do, but quietly. I’d love to do this without death, but this has to be done. If they unleash infected on us, a lot more lives will be lost,” answered Dwyn
.
Dwyn continued with his instructions: “Tess and Branson will work together to secure the exterior air holes and open the doors. As they do that, Ziv will place an antiviral tank and release the gas.”
No one acknowledged him, but it was the fourth time he had said it since they had left Osprey Point. Dwyn surveyed the scene ahead of them and held back from repeating himself one more time.
Wooden bat in hand, Dwyn watched the guard turn the corner of the plexiglass trailer, then sprinted after the man with light steps. The flattened weeds from previous traffic presented little noise; so did the asphalt that crumbled to meet the weeds. Dwyn came up from behind and with a hollow pop, the man crumpled.
The half zoms within the cages watched passively. Did they understand what was happening? Dwyn moved to find his next target as Tess bound and gagged the first. He crouched down to check for feet. Far off, he could see two sets dragging a third. Gordon and Branson. He tried not to think about what they’d do next. What he might have to do next. He focused on the next set of feet.
Shit, they were coming toward him.
He rolled underneath the eighteen-wheeler, but it wasn’t much cover. He pulled closer to the shadow. Better, but now he had no access to the man who after passing him would be catching up to Tess, or at least the secured guard. Their cover would be blown.
“Psst.”
Dwyn turned his head to the other side of the truck and saw Tess, her blond ponytail swinging down, obscuring her face. She reached out for the bat and Dwyn gladly gave it to her. When the guard passed, Dwyn pulled himself out from under the trailer as quietly as he could.
Not quietly enough.
Dwyn watched the guard’s head swivel to look at him, then his eyes went glassy and rolled as a bat plowed into the crown of his head with a sickening crack. The man fell to reveal a sheet-white Tess. Her eyes wide as dinner plates. Dwyn remembered his first kill. He pried the bat from her hands and pulled her into a hug, like Audra had done for him.
“We’re doing this to protect our community,” he reminded her. Dwyn noticed she had a swath of gray that barely stood out against her white-blond hair.
“Yes,” she whispered as she shook her eyes away from the scene she had created. She looked at Dwyn with searching eyes. He hoped she was recalling her children whom she was keeping safe.
“I’ll tie him up,” Dwyn said gently pulling away, not wanting her to wonder if restraints were needed.
Gordon and Branson ran up to them.
“We got three,” Gordon said in hoarse whispers.
They looked down at the mess.
“But not as good as you did,” remarked Branson, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Hush,” said Dwyn, cutting him off.
They worked together to block the air holes of the trailers with rags. Tess worked on her belly on top of the trailers to do the top rows. Rag after rag. Pop, pop, pop. It would be Ziv’s turn soon. The men inside the plastic boxes did not seem to anticipate any sort of death or emancipation. They stood, all but lifeless, with deadened gray eyes. Their breaths suspensefully slow.
Dwyn looked back and forth, waiting for their enemy to appear and for hell to break loose. What if the meeting broke down and all the men were dismissed? Their team needed to work faster. Pop, pop, pop. He signaled to Ziv. He could start on the first.
Ziv came out carrying two of the refitted oxygen tanks. Branson and Gordon opened the back of the trailer and Dwyn climbed inside, pulling a tank with him. It made a scraping noise. Ziv grimaced and lifted it up higher with regret. He positioned it in the center of the trailer, fully opened the valve, and jumped out. Gordon and Branson closed the doors tight.
One down.
Four to go.
“Look, I didn’t calculate for escaped air and the absorption of the rags,” began Ziv’s usual disclaimers. “I calculated based on complete air blockage from the exterior holes.”
Dwyn nodded. It wasn’t really time for such discussions.
Chapter Sixteen:
Sacrifice
Ziv shook his head. An absentminded nod wasn’t really what he wanted from Dwyn. He wanted him to realize that applying science to real-life scenarios was tricky and at the end of the day, involved some guessing. What if he had guessed wrong? You have to make assumptions and simplifications. There’s a lot to get wrong.
Ziv took a deep breath. He didn’t have to cure them all in one go. Any measurable blow would be helpful. He was confident he’d at least get most of them - the ones closest to the pressurized tank. ‘Most’ was just fine to cripple their army. It didn’t have to be perfect.
Perfection was not needed in this instance.
He pulled himself up into the trailer. He didn’t realize how tall they’d be, but no one else was asking for help climbing up and down. Tess was on the roof for Pete’s sake. He scrambled in, surrounded by strong, ghostly men and women. The transparent walls made him feel surrounded and claustrophobic, even though he knew he was safe. The zoms passed their eyes over him, hardly interested. He set the tank in the center of the trailer. They would be awakened shortly. He twisted the orange plastic valve as wide as it would go and sprinted out as the tank wobbled with the propellant it was not meant to hold. He sprinted then turned around to gingerly climb out. Branson and Dwyn managed to swing the doors fast but then slow them just before they slammed, to keep their actions as quiet as possible.
Three to go.
Branson helped Tess with the last of the rags as Ziv ran back into the woods to grab more tanks. Dwyn followed. He quickly ran past Ziv and grabbed the two, leaving one for Ziv. Ziv’s breathing was ragged. His chest burned. He kept telling himself that he’d work out - maybe go for a run with Audra or do push-ups with Gordon - so he’d be more equipped during these missions, but he never managed to bother. His mind was what was needed here. Strength belonged to others.
Great minds seemed to be important in this world, like Satomi’s. Ziv wondered what Satomi needed the anchoring medium for as he slung the tank over his shoulder and headed back through the woods. It was obvious she was building a peptide, but what for? Ziv knew Satomi wouldn’t create anything explicitly harmful, but she could be manipulated. If she was told it was for something good, she’d do it. She might not even think about how it could be used in a different manner.
He pulled out of his thoughts and looked around for the next trailer. Why couldn’t he stay focused? He could never stay focused. Would he have survived if Jack and Jill had taken him instead? Would he stand and fight? The thoughts haunted him more than he cared to admit. He spotted Dwyn and Gordon and headed toward them.
Another deep breath to try to slow his heart. Lost focus was OK, he just needed to get this done. Perfection was not needed in this instance.
Third tank.
Two to go.
He was doing it. He was out here, helping to get Satomi back. He had feared so often that he’d get here and chicken out. Perfection of willpower was needed in this instance. He felt pulled by all these zoms. He was curing them. He watched them stagger inside their cubicles as the antiviral reached them. They were inhaling their freedom. He did that. Maybe he could be all that Vesna had said.
Fourth tank.
One to go.
Dwyn handed him the last tank, and he and Tess opened the trailer. Ziv climbed in, adjusted the valve and made his way out. He looked to his left and right at the zoms he’d be curing. They weren’t looking at him. Their eyes focused behind him. Why?
A force smashed into him, throwing his body and momentum out of the truck. They both dove into the ground. Ziv ate dirt and saw out of the corner of his eye that Dwyn and Tess had abandoned the doors to help.
“NO! Close the trailer doors!” he yelled out.
He didn’t want the cure to dissipate. He wanted to make sure the last twenty percent of the army was decimated. He tried to roll over, but a large body was on top of him. He sucked in air and dust as a fist pounded into his back.
Ziv c
lawed at the asphalt, his nails ripping. He slipped out from under the man’s weight and rolled. Ziv noticed the knife flashed in the light despite its lack of sheen. It was an odd thing to consider. He raised his arms in defense. His attacker must have been in there the whole time, had seen the holes getting plugged in. Maybe heard a guard go down. He’d been standing in there with the zoms, waiting for his chance. Well, he got it, thought Ziv.
Dwyn and Tess struggled to regain their handle on the doors and get them closed. Ziv heard their slams. They’d done it. He’d done it. Tess held them shut as Dwyn came to his rescue. Ziv hadn’t thought to pull out his knife. To him it was a tool, not a weapon. Hadn’t Dwyn told him to pull out his knife? The man on top of him had wide eyes and a snarl. Drool fell from the corner of his lips. Ziv yelled out again.
The others - Audra and the others - would hear. It didn’t matter now. Their army had been crushed. Just - had she gotten Satomi yet? He wished he knew as the knife found something soft of his. He felt Dwyn arrive, but he also knew it was too late. He felt gutted. But he had accomplished his and Vesna’s dream. He’d made it happen.
* * *
Audra heard a yell, but before she could come to any conclusions, it was closely followed by Dwyn’s high-pitched bird call. They had succeeded, somehow, someway. Jack and Jill had heard the yell too and waited for Audra to give them a hint. Now they just had to wait for - BOOM!
That had done it.
“What was that?!” cried out Jill, jumping from her seat, the lawn chair flying back and slamming against the aluminum RV.
“It wasn’t us,” said Audra honestly, shrugging her shoulders. It was Lysent.
Audra pulled her knife out all the same. She didn’t raise it yet. Jack pulled a radio from his belt and asked for a status update.
Nothing.
