Ward Z

by Amy Cross

  Cally Briggs

  "She's so beautiful and smart," June says with a smile as we watch Emma playing on the bed. She has June's fake rubber buttocks, and she's using them as a hat as part of some game that clearly only makes sense to a nine-year-old. "You must be so proud."

  "I am," I reply calmly, trying not to let June sense that I'm worried. "That's why..." My voice trails off for a moment as, yet again, I try to work out whether I'm doing the right thing.

  She turns to me. "Why what?"

  "Can I leave her in here with you for a few hours?" I ask quietly, hoping that Emma won't hear,

  She frowns.

  "It's just..." I pause for a moment as the pain in my side throbs briefly. "I don't know," I continue, "I'm just in a funny mood, and I don't think it's good for me to be around her. I shouted at her a while ago, and that's not like me at all. I need some time to get my head together, I need..." Pausing for a moment, I realize that I can't quite explain everything that's happening to me. I feel as if I'm out of control, as if my mind is spinning. Worst of all, I feel as if there's a growing sense of anger starting to rise in the back of my mind.

  "What's wrong?" June asks, lowering her voice. "You look a little peaky, kid. Even more than usual."

  "I'm fine," I reply. "Or, I don't know, I think I'm fine, or I'm going to be fine, or whatever, but I just need to get my head straight. I had a nightmare earlier, and I haven't felt quite right since."

  "Have they switched up your drugs?" she asks.

  "It's not the drugs."

  "Are you sure? Sometimes they make a change and they don't even say anything. I've caught them doing that a couple of times now. It's like they think we're idiots and we'll just let them pump anything they like into our veins. You want to know why? It's a conspiracy. The drug companies pay them to -"

  "June," I reply wearily, "can we not talk about conspiracies right now?"

  "That's exactly how they want you to react," she replies. "They want to grind us down so that -"

  "Will you shut the fuck up?" I hiss, before instantly realizing that I've gone too far. "Jesus, I'm sorry, I just..."

  "It's okay," she replies calmly. "You're not yourself, Cally. I can see that. Leave Emma with me for a few hours. I'll keep her occupied. I can't promise I won't swear in front of her, but I know how to keep a little girl entertained."

  "I'm sure this whole situation'll be over soon," I reply. "The army can't keep us bottled up in here forever."

  "Can't they?" she asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "There are more helicopters arriving by the minute. Whatever they're up to, it's escalating, and do you want to know something else? A while ago, a man in a great big radiation suit came to the ward."

  "Radiation?"

  "Or contamination, something like that. Anyway, he came in and went off to one of the examination rooms. I tried to follow, but one of those busy-body interfering nurses made me come back to my room. Whatever's going on here, though, it's serious. I wouldn't count on them deciding to let us all out any time soon. This might be a long-haul kind of situation."

  I want to argue with her, to tell her that there's no way the army would try to keep a whole ward full of staff and patients penned in like this for more than a few hours, but at the same time I feel too tired to get into a long discussion.

  "Go on," she continues, "go and get some time alone. You need it. When you come back, you'll be all refreshed and ready to give it a new go."

  "I shouted at her," I reply, watching as Emma continues to play. "In my room just now, I lost my temper. I've never done that with her, not once. I don't know what's happening to me, but -"

  "It's okay," June replies, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Just go and take some time for yourself. You're just stressed."

  "It was more than that," I tell her. "It was like a whole other force raging in my body."

  "Take as long as you need," she replies, hobbling over and pulling the door open for me. "I know what it's like, Cally. This place can make you crazy at the best of times, but when you can't even go out the door and take a few minutes down in the garden, it's enough to send you completely round the bend. Just go and relax in your room for a while, take a nap, do something that really helps you to relax, okay? It's better to come back refreshed, and whatever you do, don't feel guilty about leaving Emma with me for a few hours. She'll be fine."

  I smile politely before making my way slowly out into the corridor.

  "Okay," June says to Emma as she shuts the door, "what shall we do?"

  I stand completely still for a moment, listening to the sound of June talking to Emma. To her credit, she seems to be doing a good job, and I can't remember the last time I heard so much enthusiasm in my daughter's voice. It's almost as if she's relieved to finally be getting away from me. I guess I can't really blame her. Every time she looks at me, she probably starts thinking about the fact that I'm getting sicker by the hour, and she's right. In fact, right now, I feel as if I'm sinking faster than ever.

  Dr. Andrew Page

  "Can we at least remove the handcuffs from the body now?" Dr. Gerrold asks, as Lincoln starts to pack away his equipment. "It's undignified to leave her like this."

  "The handcuffs will stay in place," Lincoln replies calmly.

  "For what reason?"

  "Don't argue," I say, standing at the far side of the room, unable to stop staring at Ribery's face. "These people know what they're doing. Let them get on with it."

  "Thanks for the vote of support," Lincoln replies. "The autopsy's over, but our interest in Dominique Ribery's body is most certainly not. It's going to take a little time to set things up, but I intend to arrange for the body to be taken away. We have a secure facility in Utah that needs to get a proper look at what's happening here. The only problem is getting her there."

  "You said you were worried about contamination," I reply. "I don't see where that fits into all of this."

  "We're just taking precautions."

  "No," I say firmly, "you're not. Taking precautions would mean wearing a mask and gloves. You've called in half of the British military to keep this hospital in lock-down, and you're wearing an industrial-grade contamination suit. What are you really worried about?"

  "I'm afraid I can't divulge additional details about the operation," he replies awkwardly.

  "Can we at least leave?" Dr. Gerrold asks. "You can't be planning to keep us here any longer."

  "The quarantine order will remain in place until we've cleared Dominique Ribery's body from the location," Lincoln replies as he takes a small camera from his bag and places it on the counter. "We might move a little more slowly than you'd prefer, but we have the best interests of the world at stake."

  "Of the world?" Dr. Gerrold replies. "You're acting as if this is some kind of potential pandemic."

  "Better to be safe than sorry," Lincoln replies, taking a moment to set up the camera. "This device is broadcasting a live video feed to our base," he says after a moment. "It's very important that no-one interferes with the device or moves it or blocks the view. We need to have eyeballs on the body twenty-four-seven, okay?"

  "Why?" Dr. Gerrold asks.

  "As a precaution."

  Staring at the handcuffs around Ribery's wrists and ankles, and then at the chain around her neck, I can't help feeling that these 'precautions' seem a little over the top. It's almost as if they expect someone to steal her body.

  "How much longer are we going to be kept here?" Dr. Gerrold asks.

  "I can't give an estimate."

  "But we'll be out of here by tonight, won't we?"

  "I doubt it," Lincoln replies. "We have to arrange safe passage for this specimen across the Atlantic. Even with the resources at our disposal, that's hardly going to be the work of a moment. I need to coordinate our actions with half a dozen agencies, none of which are going to be very keen on the idea of allowing Ribery to move through their territory. Frankly, I imagine their preferred option would be to simply incinerate her and -"
He pauses, as if he's just caught himself in time. "Please try not to worry," he continues, "and let me do my job. This will all be over soon, and then you can start getting things back to normal. In the meantime, I'll be arranging for food and water to be delivered to the ward, and the power will remain on."

  "This is intolerable," Dr. Gerrold says firmly.

  "No," I say, looking over at him, "we have to be careful. If this thing is what we think it is, we need to take every possible precaution."

  "I'm glad you see it that way," Lincoln replies. "How does it feel, Dr. Page, to think that the work you completed all those years ago might turn out to have been correct after all?" He pauses. "My understanding is that you were widely ridiculed for your ideas. You suffered a great deal of personal and professional humiliation, but you might still have the last laugh. So to speak, anyway." He pauses again. "You know, I shouldn't tell you this, but it was your original paper that sparked our investigation. For the past few years, we've been working in secret on a number of different lines of inquiry. You might yet be proven right, Dr. Page."

  "I hope I'm not," I reply, staring at the body.

  "You don't want the glory?"

  "I don't want this thing to be real," I tell him. "I want it all to have been a mistake. The idea of a new life-form emerging from within our own bodies..." My voice trails off as I realize that the possible ramifications are almost endless.

  "That's why we're doing things cautiously," he replies. "By the book, and with the utmost care and attention. If this thing is able to spread from person to person, we need to make damn sure that we control any possible infection. A pandemic -"

  "A pandemic has already started," I point out, interrupting him. "Do you have any idea how many people around the world are diagnosed with cancer each year?"

  "And most of those cases are harmless," he replies. "Well, harmless in the context of our current threat. Most tumors, for example, don't exhibit this type of behavior. We're looking at a very specific new strain of cancer that has emerged only in recent years, most likely as an evolutionary development of previous strains. I firmly believe that there's still time for us to prevent a widespread outbreak, but we have to move carefully and quickly. One wrong move could spell disaster, and that's why I need to know that I can count on the pair of you to keep things calm on this ward, at least until we have a proper plan in place."

  "While you decide whether or not to kill us all, you mean," I point out.

  "I have to go," he replies, turning and making his way to the door. "Please try to remain calm, and I'm sure I don't have to even tell you that you're to refrain from discussing any of this with anyone else. For the sake of the other people on the ward, I need you to keep quiet."

  As he leaves the room, I turn to Dr. Gerrold and see a look of utter shock in his eyes.

  "You know this is real, don't you?" I say after a moment. "You have to believe the evidence that's right in front of your eyes."

  "I hope you're wrong," he replies, "because if you're not, this whole ward is probably infected and -" He pauses, as if he's momentarily lost in thought. "No," he says finally. "No, I can't accept this. I'm a man of science, and I'm not going to be seduced by lunatic ideas." With that, he turns and hurries after Lincoln.

  "Where are you going?" I shout, but there's no reply. "Alan! What are you going to do?"

  Cally Briggs

  People are shouting in the distance. They sound angry, but although I know I should go back to my room and rest, I feel compelled to push onward, wandering aimlessly along the corridor. It's almost as if my body's no longer my own.

  Stopping suddenly, I find that I'm standing next to an unmarked door. There's more shouting in the distance, and someone is calling out the name "Alan", but it means nothing to me. I try to focus, to concentrate, but it's as if my mind is starting to slip away. I'd love to believe that this is another dream, but as I place my hand on the cold metal door handle, I can tell that it's real. Whatever this is, it's really happening.

  Hearing more voices nearby, I push the door open and step inside. Making sure to stay out of sight, I hear voices in the corridor outside as some people make their way toward the main part of the ward. I guess they didn't see me, which is good. Taking a deep breath, I lean forward until my forehead is resting on the wall. I just need to wait for a moment, and hopefully I'll be able to pull myself together long enough to -

  Suddenly the pain hits me again, crackling up through the right side of my body with renewed intensity. It's as if there's a thick line of agony running straight through my core, from my waist to my heart, and I feel dizzy for a moment before finally taking a step back. The pain has subsided a little, but I can still feel something inside my body, churning in my right side and sending regular pulses up toward the center of my chest. Whatever this thing is, it seems to be waking up.

  Turning, I try to work out where I am. My vision is a little cloudy and the room seems to be spinning, but as I take a couple of steps forward I realize that things are becoming a little clearer. Moments later, I bump into something at waist height, and when I reach out I realize that there's some kind of table next to me. Still struggling to see properly, I feel my way around the table until, with no warning, my hand comes to a rest on a human foot. I pause, feeling the cold skin against my fingers, but I don't pull my hand away; instead, it's as if some part of my mind is fascinated by whatever I've found.

  Blinking a couple of times, I manage to clear the fog in my eyes, and I realize that there's a dead human body on the table. I stare at it, half-expecting to find that this is all a dream, but after a moment I start making my way slowly around the table, staring in fascinated horror at the corpse's chest cavity. Glancing over at a nearby counter, I spot several bloody objects in a series of dishes, and I start to realize that this body has undergone an autopsy. I grab a chart that has been hanging on the side of the bed, and although my eyesight is still bad, I'm finally able to read the handwriting.

  "Dominique Ribery," I say quietly.

  It's her. It's the woman June was so worried about.

  As I put the chart back where I found it, I spot something metallic clamped around Dominique Ribery's wrist. Looking more closely, I realize that her body has been chained to the table, not only by the wrists but also by the ankles and neck. I walk around to the other side of the table, taking care not to go too fast in case I lose my balance. It's hard to believe that someone would chain a dead body down like this, but I guess it must be something that happened while she was still alive. Still, it seems completely barbaric, and I can't help but feel sorry for her. Whatever happened to her, and however she lived her life, it seems wrong somehow to leave her like this, naked and exposed. Anyone could just wander in and find her.

  For a moment, my mind is suddenly filled with the image of my own body in a similar situation. Is this what'll happen in a few weeks when I die? Will my naked body be left out on a table for anyone to see, with my organs sitting nearby in a set of dishes? Taking a deep breath, I force myself to focus on the task at hand, even though my head is still spinning and I feel as if I might collapse at any moment. Looking down at Dominique Ribery's face, I realize that her features seem strangely gaunt, as if her face has begun to shrink and cling to her skull. Her skin looks to be a little off-color, almost yellowy-green, and I can't help but notice that she resembles the creature from my nightmare.

  Turning, I stumble back toward the door. I need to get out of here before I vomit, and -

  Suddenly I hear a clanking sound, like metal banging against metal. Stopping in my tracks, I realize that the sound is coming from directly behind. I turn slowly and see that Dominique Ribery's right arm is moving, as if she's trying to get free of the chain that's holding her against the table. Before I can react, her other arm starts moving as well, and then her whole body. It's as if, despite the fact that her chest has been opened and emptied out, the rest of her body has suddenly come to life.

  Seconds later, she opens her
eyes.

  Dr. Andrew Page

  "I don't care," Dr. Gerrold is saying when I catch up to him. "I demand to leave this place at once. You can place me in quarantine somewhere else if you insist, but I demand to be released from this ward immediately!"

  Standing by the door, waiting to be let back out, Lincoln turns to him. "Please try to stay calm," he says after a moment. "No-one's allowed in or out without clearance. Believe me, I'm going to be in quarantine conditions myself. I need cool heads to prevail." He pauses as we all hear a distant banging sound. "I think something needs your attention, gentlemen. I'd suggest that you get on with looking after your patients, and make sure that you keep people out of the examination room."

  "Come on," I say, grabbing Dr. Gerrold's arm. "There's no use trying to argue your way out -"

  "I'm not staying here!" he says firmly, clearly starting to panic as he pushes me away. His usual fortitude seems to have deserted him, replaced by indignation and anger. "No-one has any right to keep me imprisoned in this hospital, and I demand to be allowed to leave immediately. I know my rights, and no court of law in this land has ordered me to remain in this place, so I'm afraid I simply must be allowed to leave!"

  "That's simply not going to happen," Lincoln says firmly. "Please stand back from the door while I leave, or I'll be forced to have you restrained. Anyone who steps over the threshold is liable to be dealt with using extreme force."

  "Are you threatening me?" Dr. Gerrold asks, clearly unable to control his temper any longer. "Is that what's happening here? Are we all becoming animals so quickly? Forgive me, but I thought we lived in a free and democratic world."

  "You've been exposed to this thing," Lincoln replies, before turning to me. "Dr. Page, can you try to drum some sense into your colleague?"

  "He's right," I say, trying to pull Dr. Gerrold away from the door. "We're in this mess now, so we need to keep clear heads."