by Kate L. Mary
“Maybe we’ll know it when we see it,” I said as I scanned the labels.
“Maybe,” Helen replied.
There were so many vials lined up on the shelves that after a few minutes of reading labels, I began to feel like my head was spinning. Even worse than the sheer number of vials was the knowledge that so much death and destruction sat on these shelves. And they were man-made too. At least the strains of flu Star had released and the different strains of the zombie virus.
My heart leapt when I spotted a vial labeled vaccine on the shelf right below the ones holding the viruses. There was a date on the label, right next to the neatly printed name of that strain. I hadn’t even known the strains had names, and the knowledge made my heart beat faster. How would I know which strain Donaghy was infected with? What if I got the wrong vaccine?
My hands were shaking so badly when I pulled out the tray that the vials clinked together. I took a deep breath, hoping to calm myself down. But it didn’t work, so I gripped the tray tighter, hoping to keep it still long enough for me to read the labels. The vials seemed to scream up at me. There were so many and this was only one tray out of dozens. I scanned the labels, trying to figure out how they were arranged. The name of each strain meant nothing to me, but the dates printed on the labels did. The vials in my hand all had last year’s date on them, and when I looked into the refrigerator I saw that the next tray of vials had an earlier date. They were arranged in ascending order, meaning the strain I needed would be at the back.
I set the tray I was holding back on the shelf and then leaned down so I could get a good look at the vials at the back of the refrigerator. The one furthest back had a number one on it instead of a date, but the tray right in front of that was dated only one year after the outbreak started. This was the vaccine I needed.
I reached back, my arm only an inch above the trays, and the sleeve of my plastic suit skimmed the tops of the vials. The refrigerator was so deep that it seemed like I had to put most of my body inside in order to reach the one I needed, but I did and then my fingers were on it. I could feel the cool glass against my skin even through my thick gloves. I clasped it between my thumb and forefinger, feeling the weight of it as I lifted it from the tray. This vial, this tiny glass bottle of neon green liquid, would save Donaghy’s life.
I was pulling the vial from inside the depths of the refrigerator when another label caught my eye. I froze, the glass clutched between my fingers and my eyes trained on the vials lined up in the very last row. There were two words printed on the labels. Two words that were so ambiguous they would mean nothing to most people. But not to me.
The End. That was all the label said, but it was enough to tell me that this was what we had come here for. I palmed the vial I was holding, tucking it back with the last three fingers on my hand so my thumb and forefinger were free. Then I reached back into the fridge, back behind the rows and rows of vaccines, and grabbed one of the vials in the last row.
I tucked it into my palm, right up against the vial that would be Donaghy’s salvation. The glass vials clinked together when I wrapped my fingers around them. The failsafe felt heavy in my hand, like I was holding the future. Which I was. This vial, this tiny little thing, held hope and love and the promise of rebirth. If it worked it would give all of us a new life.
“I found it,” I whispered, but the words were loud in my ears.
I turned to face Helen just as she twisted my way. She had to turn her whole body so she could see me, but even through the moisture collected on the window of her hood I could see the hope in her eyes.
“You found it?”
I slipped the vaccine into my other hand, tucking it safely into my palm even as it called out for me to hurry. I could feel my pulse thumping against it; a beat that refused to let me forget that with each passing second, Donaghy was being dragged closer and closer to his own end.
I twisted the other vial around so Helen could see the label and positioned it right in front of her face before repeating, “I found it.”
I couldn’t believe such a tiny thing could hold the solution to such a huge problem. Maybe we needed more than one. There were several rows of them on the tray, after all. What if the only way to stop the zombies was to release the virus near every settlement?
“You sure this will do it?” I asked Helen as she stood staring at the vial, looking as mesmerized by the contents as I felt.
“According to Jane, yes. She was a lot of things, but she wasn’t one to exaggerate. If this virus was created to kill the zombies, it will work.”
I slipped the vial into my other hand so it was side by side with the vaccine once again, and then curled my fingers around them before shutting the fridge. “Then let’s get the hell out of here and take these damn zombies out once and for all.”
Eighteen
Donaghy
My heartbeat thumped so hard against my eardrums that I started to wonder if the people around me were still firing. They weren’t, though. The guards who’d shot Parvarti were down, all of them dead now, and our group was taking inventory of the damage. The air in the hall was thick with the scent of blood, and as much as I wanted to deny it, I found myself wanting to reach out and run my fingers through the splatters that decorated the once brilliantly white floors. It was so red. So intoxicatingly red.
“Hang in there,” Jada was saying to my right.
I watched, almost transfixed as she probed the injury on Parvarti’s shoulder. Red seeped from the wound, coating Jada’s fingers. She stood and moved away, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the blood. How it glistened under the lights, how it seemed to call out to me.
“Shit.”
A hiss of pain to my right made me turn. There, Kelly sat leaning against the wall, her expression a mirror of Parvarti’s while a pool of blood collected on the floor beneath her leg.
“It’s not that bad,” Luke said as he tied a strip of fabric around her thigh.
Kelly hissed out a curse and shook her head. “I’ll be okay.”
“You better be,” he responded.
I couldn’t move. I knew that something very bad was happening to me, but all I could do was stare at the blood. It called out to me, the smell of it so powerful that I felt like I could taste it. The sharp, coppery flavor seemed to fill my mouth, and even though I knew I should be repulsed by it, I wasn’t.
“Hey.” I turned to find Angus at my side, his gray eyes focused on my face. “You alright?”
I shook my head, but before I could speak I had to swallow. “No.”
Angus put his hand on the knife at his waist. “You need me to end this?”
“Not yet,” I said, but the truth was, I had no idea how much longer I could hold on.
Angus nodded and his hand fell away from his knife. “You tell me.”
“I will,” I managed to hiss out.
And then I shut my eyes and forced my brain to stop thinking. Forced my body not to picture the blood around me. Forced my brain to repeat the same words over and over again. It won’t be long now. I can hang on. I am going to fight this.
Nineteen
Meg
The vials were in the palm of my hand when Helen and I stepped out of the lab and into the decontamination room. I wanted to squeeze them, to tighten my grip on them so they didn’t accidentally slip away, but I forced my fingers to stay relaxed.
Seconds after the door shut behind us water rained down from the ceiling. The sound of it hitting my plastic hood was deafening. Louder than the sound of Helen’s voice booming in my ears had been, louder than the pounding of my heart, which seemed to be beating at an impossibly fast rate.
The shower shut off as suddenly as it had started, surprising me with the sudden silence, and then Helen yanked the door open and moved into the other room with me right on her heels.
It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of the hallway through the window that I remembered the scene we’d left behind. I ripped my hood off and took a deep breath,
filling my lungs with fresh oxygen as I hurried to the door. I peered out, expecting to see a bloody battle raging in the hall. It wasn’t, though.
“What’s going on out there?” Helen asked as she peeled her suit away.
I set the vials gingerly on a bench and began ripping off my own suit, all the while looking out into the hall. There were bodies on the ground, but they were the CDC guards. Our own people were alert and waiting, but seemingly uninjured. Except Parv. She’d been shot before we went in, but I couldn’t see her now and I had no clue if she was okay. Donaghy was also out of sight, and no matter how hard I pressed my face against the window, I couldn’t spot either one of them.
“They have it under control.”
I pulled my suit off and kicked it aside. Underneath I was wearing scrubs, and I started to grab for my clothes, but then I realized it was wasted time. I was already dressed and I doubted Jada had any sentimental attachment to the leather she’d loaned me.
“Is there any reason to assume these clothes are contaminated?” I asked Helen.
She ran her hand through her short, blonde hair almost absentmindedly. “No. Protocol is to change and wash these with bleach, but screw protocol.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I said.
There was a pocket on my scrub top, and I slipped the vials into it for safekeeping, thankful that it had a small square of Velcro that would help keep it closed. Helen had already scooped up her gun and was heading for the door, and all I had to do was grab my own weapons before heading after her.
The door hissed open and I stumbled out. It probably wasn’t any brighter in the hall than it had been inside the lab, but it seemed like it. Although it could have just been that I was having a difficult time taking everything in at once. The guards on the ground, the blood streaked across the white floor, Parv leaning against the wall with her face scrunched up in pain, Donaghy next to her with sweat beaded on his forehead. I wasn’t sure where to look first.
“We got them. Both of them,” Helen said as she ran out ahead of me.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
Jim shook his head. “We’re alive, but we have a few injuries.”
That’s when I saw Luke supporting Kelly. Her leg was bloody above the knee, and a tourniquet had been tied around her thigh to stop the flow. She had to be in pain, but she looked more pissed off than anything. Luke, however, looked ready to get the hell out of here.
My gaze moved to Donaghy. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” He dragged himself up off the floor, working hard to stand but obviously determined. “I can work through it.”
“What about the fever?” I reached for him, wanting to feel his head, but he jerked away and out of the corner of my eye I saw Angus take a step toward us.
“Keep your distance. I feel…” He swallowed. “I’m hungry, but it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.”
No. The virus was working harder now, moving faster. He was running out of time.
I turned to Helen. “I need to give him the vaccine. Now.”
“No syringes down here,” she reminded me. “We’ll have to get one on the first floor.”
I wanted to protest, but I knew there was no reason. She wasn’t withholding it on purpose. If she said there were no syringes on this level, there were none. Which meant we had to move. Now.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, looking between Kelly and Parv. It was impossible to imagine that we’d be able to get far with two injured people in tow.
“Luke is going to get Kelly and Parv out of here, and Tony is going with them for backup,” Jim said. “They’re hurt and they’ll slow us down, but they also need medical attention, and soon.”
That left eight of us to get through the CDC, get a syringe so we could give Donaghy the vaccine, and then head out into the city to release the bacteria. I didn’t know how many guards there were in this building, but I did know that the odds were not in our favor at the moment.
“Help me up,” Parv said, holding the hand not pressed to her shoulder out to Jada.
The blonde woman reached down and my aunt clasped her hand around hers, pulling herself up with a great deal of effort. Something had been tied around her wound, but it took a moment for me to realize that they’d ripped up the shirt of one of the dead CDC guards.
“How are you doing?” I asked her.
Parv shook her head. “I feel like shit, but I’m stronger than a damn bullet. I’ll be okay.”
I believed her.
“Let’s get a move on,” Angus growled, but he didn’t sound angry necessarily, more stressed or anxious to get things done. Or maybe even anxious to get out of this building and know that he wasn’t going to get thrown back into a cell.
We had to go up the same stairwell we’d come down, so we all headed up together. Al helped my aunt and Luke helped Kelly. We still moved at a fast pace—as fast as the injured people in our group would allow us—but we worked hard to keep our steps quiet this time.
Donaghy walked at the back of the group like he was afraid to get too close to anyone. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. He looked like he was barely hanging onto his control and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as we made our way up. His expression reminded me of how I’d felt when we’d first met, how my life had felt like it was careening out of control and how he had been an anchor for me to hold onto.
I slowed just enough so we were side by side and took his hand, prying his fingers open with a great deal of effort.
“Meg—” he began, his voice as tortured as his expression was. “—it isn’t safe.”
“Let me help you,” I said.
He did, allowing his fingers to slide into mine, and then holding onto me like he was trying to ground himself. I didn’t know if it would work, but my theory was that he was still present enough to realize something was changing, so if he could focus on something he cared about he might be able to keep that part of himself closer to the surface for longer.
When we reached the first floor, we stopped at the door so Jim and Jada could look out. Once they had determined that the coast was clear, they turned back to face us.
“Where do we need to go to get a syringe?” Jim asked Helen.
“To the left.” She turned to face Luke. “You need to go right to get out of here. Can you find it?”
“I’ve been studying that map for weeks,” he said. “I can get us out safely.”
“Can you walk on your own?” Al asked Parv.
She nodded, but before he had a chance to let her go she stood up on the tips of her toes and hugged him. It was something I’d never seen before. Al and Parv had known one another for twenty years, were closer than most real families, but my aunt had always put a wall up around herself, one that had only gotten taller and more secure since Joshua’s death.
“Be careful,” she whispered in Al’s ear.
“You too,” my uncle replied.
When they pulled away, Al went to say something to his son while Parv turned to Angus.
“I was right to start callin’ you Rambo,” he said.
“I was wrong to assume a few zombies could take you out. I should have known there was nothing in the world that could take Angus James down.”
He snorted. “Nothin’ but my own fool self.” He kissed her on the forehead before giving her a quick squeeze with one arm. “When this is all over, I wanna sit on a front porch and smoke a pack of cigarettes.”
“It’s a date,” she said before turning away.
We filed out of the stairwell. Luke, Kelly, Tony, and Parv went right while the rest of us veered off to the left. I kept my hand in Donaghy’s, trying to ignore the moisture that collected between our palms and the heat radiating off his skin.
We hadn’t gone far when we turned a corner and found a group of guards waiting. Jim and Jada backpedaled, forcing the rest of us to do the same as shots rang through the air around us. A cry broke out and Britt hit the ground, drawing
a round of cursing from Jim.
“Everyone, down!” he called as he and Jada dropped.
We did as we were told. Donaghy and I were at the back of the group, but Jim was at the front. He was on his knees and Jada ended up on her stomach, her head just barely around the corner. She fired, as did Jim, and behind them Angus stood doing the same.
Next to me, Donaghy had his body pressed against the wall and his eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to block everything out, only I didn’t think that was the best way to handle it. Whatever war was raging inside him, the only way to fight it off was to remember why you were trying to win to begin with. To focus on what you had to lose if you gave in.
I pulled my hand out of his and got to my knees in front of him, grabbing his face between my hands. “Donaghy. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
He did, and his blue eyes locked on mine. They looked different though, the irises more muted than usual. It sent a shiver through me, but I forced it away and gripped his face tighter, willing him to hang on.
“We’re almost there. You are going to be okay.”
“I don’t know if I can hang on, Meg,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You can. I know it. You’re stronger than this. Stronger than Jackson. You can win.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, but he nodded too. He kept his gaze locked on mine while in front of us gunfire burst through the air. I wanted to know what was going on, but I was afraid if I turned my back on Donaghy he would slip away, so I stayed where I was, kneeling in front of him while the battle raged around us.
The gunfire broke off and a second later Jim called out, “Let’s move!”
I stood, pulling Donaghy with me, and turned to find the rest of our group on their feet. Britt was the only causality on our side, and even though I hated to think that we’d gotten lucky, especially with his blank eyes staring up at me as I ran by, I couldn’t help it. It could have been a lot worse.
We continued down the hall, moving past the bodies of the guards. There were only a handful of them, ten at the most, and I knew the loss wouldn’t dwindle their numbers enough to make things even for us. We were still very outnumbered, and all I could hope was that most of the CDC guards had been pulled away to deal with the chaos in the streets and still hadn’t made it back here.
