by M. Van
“Sorry,” I said. “Coffee junkie. I hadn’t had a fix in two days.” Exhaustion had crept into my limbs from the moment the day started, but this beautiful dark brew made it all bearable.
“Anything else you need?” I asked, glancing around the now looted store. I figured I had done a decent job.
“Get a car charger,” she said. I stared at her. “Your phone.” I raised my eyebrows.
“Good idea,” I said and searched the store for phone accessories.
After I’d found what I was looking for, I picked up Ash and walked to the car. She seemed light as a feather to me. I wondered whether the shoes on her feet weighed more than she did.
| 11
“Dr. Warren, sir,” a voice said, pulling him out of his concentration. He ignored the voice, testing the man’s patience as Warren finished reading the final paragraph. He had reread the last words several times, but they weren't to his satisfaction. “The current administration does not approve the use of the assembled neoplasma malignum carriers at this time.” Warren let out a long breath before he turned his attention to the man hovering at his desk.
“What?” he said, letting the annoyance show in his voice.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” the man standing before him said as the man fidgeted with his white laboratory coat. “But we have a subject tagged as White Noise.”
That little piece of information piqued Dr. Warren’s interest, unlike the notification those fools in Washington had sent him. Warren looked up at the man. Dr. Dooly (or Rooly or whatever his name was) watched him with a careful expression.
Warren raised his brows and cocked his head at the other man. “This is where you tell me the details, Dooly,” he said when the doctor didn’t immediately respond.
“It’s Downey, sir,” the man said. With his hand, Downey gestured to the computer on the desk with an inquiring look.
Warren nodded.
Within seconds, Dr. Downey used the computer to pull up a map of the New York area on the screen and pointed at a blue dot. “This is a neoplasma malignum carrier on the move in the city,” Downey said.
Dr. Warren waved a finger in the air for Downey to continue. He had seen his share of dots blinking on screens; he needed some viable information that he could work with.
Downey nodded and even dared a faint smile when he said, “The subject has been reported infected and killed in the field, and yet it seems to be …”
Warren narrowed his eyes to where Downey tapped a finger on the screen. The dot was moving at a fast pace. As he looked up at Downey, Dr. Warren’s smile grew.
“It’s in a vehicle,” Downey said. He straightened in his seat.
“You’re sure it’s infected?” The excitement grew in Warren’s chest. Dr. Downey nodded.
Was this what he had been looking for? Warren was in dire need of a subject that had survived the infection. It would be the last piece to his puzzle, but he couldn’t rush this. The authorities would never let him keep an infected subject within the confines of a safe zone, but Warren couldn’t just let this go.
“Bring me the reports on this subject; I need to know what happened out there. And someone find me my aide.” At his commands, Downey scurried out of the room. As Dr. Warren watched the screen, the grin on his face grew. He knew had to bide his time; therefore, he would send his best aide out to keep an eye on this precious subject until his time would come.
| 12
The mood felt good after we left the gas station, gorging on every unhealthy snack ever made. Ash had a bit of a sweet tooth.
I contemplated her fuzzy hair and rubbed a hand over mine. I couldn’t get Mars’s words out of my head. His warning about not surviving tests and keeping my distance from the military were one thing, but they weren’t what bothered me. That just scared me. He had lit a spark of hope at his mention that my condition might save me, and in my world, hope had a tendency to morph into a killer.
Casual conversation kept my thoughts from venturing into the darker corners of my mind and made for a welcome reprieve. Ash loosened up a bit. She told me that she’d been born in Brooklyn and had been in state care from the age of twelve. She didn’t tell me why or what had happened to her parents. I felt reluctant to ask, so I didn’t. I figured she’d tell me when she felt ready. After she’d gotten sick, no one had wanted to adopt her, too much trouble. There was bitterness in her voice I had seldom heard from a person her age, not even from the terminal kids I had met over the years. It hit me with the acuteness of a knife in the gut, and I couldn’t figure out a sensible thing to say. I didn’t have much of a comforting bone in my body. Not that I didn’t care, I just never knew what to say.
“At least you don’t have siblings fighting over your will.” The words fell out before I could take them back and grimaced. Biting my lip, I tilted my head to face Ash.
“Sorry, I didn’t-”
She cut me off, snorting a laugh. “You have siblings fighting over your will,” she said with a grin. “You’re not dead yet. Couldn’t have been that good?”
“Hey,” I said, glad she hadn’t taken offense by my puny comparison, “I did all right for myself. My sister has opted for my Porsche 911.”
“No way. You’re loaded?”
“‘Was’ is the actual word,” I replied, gazing over the street.
I wondered if there’d be any use for money in this new world. If there wouldn’t be, I knew my siblings would be severely bummed out by it. My brother and sister weren’t bad people. They just wanted to make sure everything was in order, and they didn’t want me to worry about it. Our father, the successful business entrepreneur, had taught us to plan for every contingency. Besides, compared to them, I didn’t have much to offer. My low six-figure income stood in the shadow of my siblings’ close-to-seven figure incomes. That didn’t mean it didn’t sting, and as with everything, I wasn’t ready to deal.
“What’s that you’re eating?” I asked, ready to change the subject.
“Jelly buns,” she said, her voice muffled by an overfilled mouth.
I glanced at her from of the corner of my eye. “And what’s that you’re drowning them in?”
“Peanut butter.”
“Raspberry jelly buns?” I asked.
Ash looked at me with a smirk followed by a long delighted moan.
“Give me one,” I said and extended a hand. She pulled the box out of my reach.
“Mine,” she said with a whine that reminded me of the little fat kid from South Park.
“Come on, share,” I said and reached for the box. Distracted, I swerved the car out of the lane. I had to grab the steering wheel with both hands to avoid a collision with an already-banged-up Volkswagen.
“All right, all right, here, you big baby,” Ash said and extended a jelly bun.
“Peanut butter,” I added. She dunked the bun in the jar and handed it to me. My jaw locked up after an oversized bite. Ash witnessed my trouble and burst out laughing. I didn’t care, because that bun was delicious. Besides, who knew how many remained in the world?
Ash still giggled when my eyes fell on an approaching vehicle. I nudged her and gestured at the car. Her eyes widened, and she hustled to clear the food off her lap. She gripped her weapon, which made me grab mine. Eyes on the road, afraid to find expectations in Ash’s face I couldn’t live up to, I reduced our speed. I had no idea what to do and shoved my hand with the gun between my knees to keep it from shaking. As they closed in, I recognized an Army jeep. The soldier on the passenger side stood in the open jeep with a machine gun aimed at us over the front windshield. He waved at us to slow down.
“Put the gun away,” I said as I slid mine on the center console. Ash hesitated, staring at me with wary eyes.
“Do you see that thing?” I said caustically. “Do it.” Reluctantly she dropped the gun to the floor of the Edge.
The jeep stopped a few feet in front of us. The soldiers who stepped out did not look familiar. That was a relief in itself. One of
the men shouted, “Step out of the vehicle and place your hands on your head.”
“This could get interesting,” Ash said with a sideways glance.
I stepped out and placed my hands on my head. The soldiers in full body armor looked similar to Decks and Mars when I’d met them. The passenger had a firm aim at us, but the driver merely held a hand on his holstered pistol.
“You, step out of the vehicle now,” the passenger shouted with added force. He pointed his rifle at Ash.
“She can’t walk,” I called out.
I took a step, but he retorted, “You shut the fuck up and step back.”
I took a step back but couldn’t refrain from speaking.
“Paralyzed,” I said. The soldier took long strides toward me until his rifle was just inches from my forehead. I held my breath but withheld the urge to close my eyes. He gazed at the bandage on my cheek. In one swift move, he yanked it from my face. The pain made me wince.
“I think this one was bitten in the face,” he said as the door of the Edge opened. The soldier shifted his position to aim his rifle at Ash. She slid out of the seat and landed with a thud on the ground. My head sank to my chest, and I felt my heart break.
“Get the fuck off the ground,” the idiot shouted. I felt my temper flare and looked up, ready to confront the bastard. I glanced at the driver who lifted his hand and motioned for me to stay put.
“Private, back off,” the driver said. The private turned to him. “That’s enough.”
The private retreated a step but kept his rifle on me. The driver motioned for me to help Ash, while the private rolled his eyes. What an asshole. I didn’t know if the driver had noticed the private’s insolence, but with a gesture of his hand, he directed the man back to the jeep. I helped Ash up and helped her back in the car.
“My name is Lieutenant Wise. I apologize for my subordinate, but we face difficult tasks,” he said.
“Like picking on the handicapped,” Ash said with a sneer. I gave her a hard look, not that I had any hope it would work. The lieutenant ignored her remark.
“I need to ask you if you were bitten or infected in any way,” he said.
Unlike the private, the lieutenant had retained his cool. He spoke in a calm voice. We both shook our heads at his question, but I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. He examined the scrape on my face that resembled nothing like a bite mark and had started to scab over.
“Arms and legs, please.”
Ash showed her arms and started pulling up her pant legs. I started to roll up my sleeves, fueled by a rush of anxiety. I wasn’t wearing the long-sleeved shirt. The collar would have hidden the bite mark, but I had washed it in the hospital, and it was still in my pack. The only thing I was wearing underneath this jacket was a shoulder-revealing tank top and the bandages that covered my wounds. My hand shook, trying to roll up the sturdy denim sleeves; they would never go up to my elbows. I yanked them up as far as I could then started rolling up my pant legs in the hope it would distract the lieutenant.
“I thought the virus worked fast, within half an hour,” I said with a shaky voice, without looking up at the lieutenant. My butt rested against the car, which gave my shaky legs some much-needed support.
“Sort of,” the lieutenant replied. “It depends on the size of the wound.” I looked up from my rolled-up pant leg and eyed the lieutenant. Acne covered the parts of his face that were visible below the helmet.
“The bigger the bite, the faster you go,” I said. He returned my gaze with eyes that looked like they had witnessed a couple of wakeful days.
“Something like that,” he said. I refocused on my pants and felt a cold sweat break out on the nape of my neck.
“How long?” I asked, feeling my voice quiver when the private came up running.
He called out to the lieutenant and said, “Sir, we have a situation that needs your attention.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The private surveyed us with contempt before he spun on his heels and jogged back to the jeep. With a quick glance over our limbs, the lieutenant straightened up.
“All civilian survivors are ordered to report to our outposts,” he said. “You need to follow this road until you hit the checkpoint. You will be screened and, if cleared, transported to one of the safe zones. Do you copy?”
I nodded. Ash gave a salute with an “affirmative, sir.” The lieutenant gave a curt nod before he cleared out.
When the jeep raced by, I leaned against the car and sighed. From what the lieutenant had said, odds I would turn were slim. The bite on Emily’s hand didn’t compare to the gash up my shoulder, and hours had passed since the biting incident. That in itself was a relief, but it didn’t diminish my anxiety.
Behind the wheel, I had trouble starting the car. My hands shook as if they belonged to an addict in need of a fix. I grabbed the wheel for stability and took in deep breaths. When the car started to roll, I felt Ash’s eyes on me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in a hesitant voice. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I cleared my throat but didn’t regain enough composure to speak. I sank into my seat.
“You don’t want to go to the safe zones,” Ash said, more as a statement than a question. I wiped a hand across my forehead. It felt cold and damp.
“I can’t,” I managed to reply.
Ash shifted in her seat. “Why not?”
I stopped the car at the side of the road and turned to face her. For a second, I wondered if I should tell her about Mars’s warning about trusting no one or the thing with the lab and the tests, but I didn’t know what that was about. I sure as hell wouldn’t tell her what he’d said about my condition. There was a simpler reason, but what if she didn’t understand? I hesitated, unwilling to meet her eyes.
“Please don’t freak out,” I said as my hand reach for the zipper. Cautiously, I unzipped my jacket to reveal my shoulder. Ash gasped when I removed the bandages.
“I got bit,” I said. A lump formed in my throat. Ash glared at me until it made me uncomfortable.
“You didn’t turn,” she said in a low voice. Within seconds, her face lit up. “Holy shit, you didn’t turn.” She reached out a hand to trace the skin below the row of teeth and raw flesh with a finger, and then fascination morphed into concern. “Does it hurt?”
I glanced at the wound that looked as if it should have hurt. Teeth had sunken in deep, and there was a decent amount of missing skin. I frowned at the lack of pain.
“Not anymore,” I said.
Ash raised her eyebrows at that. At least she would have if she had any. After a beat of silence she said, “Shouldn’t you have said something to the soldier?”
I deepened my frown, but before I could speak, she shook her head. “That idiot would have shot you on the spot,” she added.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I sank into my seat and let out a breath, relieved at Ash’s reaction. I should have figured out by now the kid wasn’t easy to startle. Still, the soldier’s order had presented me with an opportunity, and I suggested to Ash that she should get to a safe zone.
“Maybe I can get you close, let you roll in on first gear, and you can brake with—” I said.
Ash cut me off, clearly not amused.
“Hold on, what?” she said, “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine, and you can go to a safe zone.”
“Leave you without a ride? Yeah, right.” She started to sound pissed off.
“Ash, you need to get out of here. You need—”
She cut me off. “What? Medication?” she fumed. “So I can die in a comfortable bed? Fuck you.”
The sight of her glassy eyes made mine sting. Her gaze shifted to the window, and I let out a breath.
“At least I’m having some fun now,” she said, resigned. “Unless you want to get rid of me.” My breath caught at the sound of her broken voice.
“What? No, that’s not it,” I exclaimed. Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d be able to take
care of her, but I couldn’t voice that. “I want you to be safe.”
“Well, I’m not, either way.”
I stared at her, lost for words.
“Ash,” I started to say, but I felt my voice ready to crack, and shut my mouth.
“Forget about it,” she said. “I won’t do it, just go.” I could feel the determination in her voice. Without thinking about it, I rubbed a gentle hand over her fuzzy hair. I didn’t know what to say.
“You don’t have to get all gushy about it,” she said with a smirk. “Who else will keep your ass out of trouble?”
Fleeting bits of the conversation between Mars and Decks emerged in the forefront of my memory. Decks had said they weren’t able to take me to the lab after I had been infected. Did that mean they would have if the zombie hadn’t bitten me? Would Ash fit into that category? I couldn’t take the risk, and it was obvious Ash had no intention of going to a safe zone.
“All right,” I said shaking my head, set the car in gear, and set it in motion.
| 13
We drove around Brooklyn until we ended up south in a suburban area called Bergen Beach. The salty air betrayed a body of water nearby, and the harbor confirmed it. I couldn’t get a good feel of the place, but I loved their style in houses. Some of them were like drive-in houses, which meant stairs and living areas on top of a garage.
Dusk started to set in while we were on the lookout for one of these places. We passed wide roads with houses, many of which still had one or two cars parked in front. However, I couldn’t detect any signs of life. Lights gleamed in some of the houses as if nothing had happened. One or two zombies roamed the streets. Otherwise, the place seemed quiet, unlike other parts of Brooklyn where tall, square redbrick buildings dominated the streets and where we came across several civilian watches armed to the teeth with guns and baseball bats. Some looked too threatening for me to slow down, but a lot of them waved amiably toward our car, and some even gave directions to where they thought it would be safer.
