Crusade (Eden Book 2)

by Tony Monchinski

  “Somebody took me for a pin cushion once.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “With my hands.”

  “Oh, very clever, yes. No, really?”

  “Tired.”

  “You slept well last night?”

  “I slept twelve hours last night. I slept like I haven’t slept in a long time.”

  “That’s good. So when you say you feel tired, it’s more a physical or an existential feeling?”

  “Both.”

  “Let’s discuss the existential aspect then. You can sleep another twelve hours tonight.”

  “You an M.D. or a shrink?” he asked in a neutral tone.

  “I’m an M.D., but I’m also a human being who cares.”

  “That must be nice.”

  “Why, don’t you care?”

  “I used to, a lot more than I do now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t feel the same anymore. I don’t feel…I don’t feel like I used to.”

  “How so?”

  “I can’t really say. I used to feel, I don’t know, closer to people.”

  “Which people?”

  “My club. The people in my church.”

  “You’re a religious man?”

  “Not much anymore. If at all.”

  “You don’t feel close to anyone anymore?”

  “The woman, Julie, I guess. The baby.”

  “You carried Buddy in here yesterday. I’m told you’d been carrying him for two days.”

  “Off and on.” He shrugged.

  “Maybe you’re depressed. Maybe you’re just exhausted. When we were downstairs, you knew about the parietal lobe of the brain. You have some background in medicine?”

  “I was a home health aide for a long time.”

  “A caring profession if there ever was one.” Singh smiled. “What kind of clientele?”

  “The elderly. I’ve seen old men and women with parietal lobe strokes, not able to say a thumb is a thumb.”

  Singh nodded. “Agnosia.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That kind of work still interest you?”

  “Why? You need another nurse around here?”

  “Actually we do. But most of the men and women who work as nurses in this center are also interning with Malden and myself to become doctors.”

  “No kidding?”

  “We’re teaching them everything we know and they’re teaching us and each other everything they know.”

  “What if someone doesn’t want to be a doctor? Only wants to be a nurse.”

  “Then they can be a nurse. No one’s forced to be something they don’t want to be. Julie and the baby—you or Mickey or Buddy the father?”

  “No.”

  “It’s tough,” Singh said. “For Julie. She’s lucky she had you to get her here.”

  “I started to wonder if we really were going to get here.”

  “I’d like to talk to you about your friend, Buddy.”

  “The way you talked to Mickey about me?”

  “Yes. The way I talked to Mickey about you. Your friend Buddy has had a major disconnect with reality.”

  “He’s psycho, isn’t he?”

  “We’re trying to figure that out. He’s schizophrenic, that’s for certain. Those empty medicine bottles he had in his bags? They contained psychoactive medications. Panas said Buddy made a few comments over time, things that made him—Panas—think Buddy might have been imprisoned, yes?”

  “He told me he was Inside. I don’t know for what.”

  “Well, let’s assume your friend was in some kind of prison before the zombie outbreak, yes?”

  Bear nodded.

  “You know, it wasn’t uncommon for men and women in prison to have mental issues.”

  “I’ve been there, doctor. I know.”

  “Either they developed their issues in the institution or they were there because of them. Who’s to say? The rates of mental illness, drug addiction, HIV infection, all that was quite high among prison inmates, compared to people outside of prison.

  “So it’s not inconceivable that Buddy was, one,” Singh held up an index finger, “imprisoned before the outbreak, and, two,” he held up his middle finger, “is suffering from a severe mental illness. Yes? Now, one thing that the state or federal government would have done for him while he was in prison would have been to medicate him—”

  “And then he gets out of prison and no medicine.”

  “No medicine, correct. So what happens to your friend? Well, once the meds are out of his system, he’s gripped by whatever mental illness the medications were keeping at bay.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, what’s he, what’s he experiencing?”

  “Right now we’re trying to figure out what medications he needs. It’s a process of trial and error, really.”

  “Is he, does he know?”

  “Here’s some of the things your friend has probably been dealing with. Dr. Malden knows a lot more about this than me, so you should talk to him later. He’s probably experiencing auditory hallucinations—voices in his head.”

  “Does he see things?”

  “Visual hallucinations are rare, except in cases of brain damage, but Buddy doesn’t seem to—”

  “He tried to strangle Mickey.”

  “I know. Julie told us. It’s uncommon among schizophrenics to harm other people. They’re much more likely to be self-injurious. Which is what makes Malden and myself think there’s some co-morbidity at play here.”

  “Co-morbid with what?”

  “You asked me before if Buddy was a psychopath? I think he might be a sociopath.”

  “A sociopath.”

  “No regard for others. No sense of remorse or guilt. Sociopaths appear to lack what we call conscience. Their activities are completely self-serving. They exhibit a disregard for rules, for social mores and laws. They put themselves and others at risk.”

  “But he’s so…nice. Usually, I mean.” He thought of that night he had to pull Buddy off Mickey.

  “Yes, well that’s where Malden and I are trying to figure it out. Are his symptoms more typical of a sociopath or a psychopath? A psychopath can mimic behaviors that make them appear normal, but they have no empathy. Some are outright sadistic.”

  “No,” Bear said, thinking of the Buddy he knew, the way he treated people, treated him, treated Harris, the way he had come back to Eden for them. “He was…He is genuine. He isn’t fake.”

  “Which may be his real personality,” Singh pointed out. “Or it may have been the medication covering up his mental health issues. It’s hard to tell.”

  “Man...”

  “Yes. I should also point out that delusional thoughts are very common among schizophrenics. Very involved, intact beliefs that bare no semblance whatsoever to reality but seem very real to the person having them. Stress can trigger them.”

  “Is that why he tried to kill Mickey?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he was having a delusion. Maybe he had built up a delusion. Maybe he thought Mickey was someone else. We’ll do what we can for him here. The good news is we’ve stockpiled lots of different medications.”

  “The bad news?”

  “No one’s making these medicines any longer.”

  “Yet.”

  “Yet. Exactly.”

  “You know they invited us to this party or whatever tonight?”

  “Yes. I think you should go. I think you should all go, including Buddy.”

  Bear looked at Singh.

  “It won’t hurt him to be around people. He can’t lay in that bed down the hall all day and night.”

  “That guy, Michael, with the plague? He’s going to die one day, right?”

  “We’re all going to die one day,” Singh said. “It’s the way of all flesh. Let me reassure you, we’re doing everything we can for your friend, and we’re going to ensure the remainder of Julie’s pregnancy is
as stress-free as possible.”

  “Thanks, Doctor Singh.”

  “It’s Kip, Jimmy, or do you prefer Bear?”

  “I haven’t been called anything else in such a long time.”

  “Well, you think about it and let me know. And like I said before, if you decide you might like someone to talk to, I can help you with that too. Introducing you to someone to talk to, I mean. It doesn’t have to be me. God knows I have enough of my own issues.”

  He smiled. “Thanks, Kip.”

  Julie knocked on his bedroom door in the dorm and leaned her head in. “You coming with us?” Her stomach was so large she could not wear the .357 holstered anywhere on her waist. Instead she had tucked the .380 at her lower back beneath her sweater and jacket.

  “I don’t think so.” He was stretched out across the bed, his lower legs hanging off the end. “You guys go ahead without me and have a good time.”

  “Bear.” She shook her head, entered the room, and sat on the bed where he lay. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why don’t you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. The idea of a party…”

  “It’s not a party party. I mean, I don’t think anyone’s going to ask you to sing karaoke. It’s Tris and her girlfriend and a bunch of their friends, just saying hello, welcoming us, getting to know us. No one’s going to ask you to dance.”

  The corners of his mouth rose.

  “What if no one wants to dance with me?” he asked.

  “Then I’ll dance with you.”

  “What’s the doctor say about the baby?”

  “The baby is fine. Malden asked me if I wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl…”

  “And?”

  “And I didn’t want to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “I guess I like pleasant surprises, and, well, this will be the first pleasant surprise in a long time.”

  Julie touched her stomach.

  “You’re getting big.”

  “You should see my belly button.”

  “Innie become an outtie?”

  “Exactly.” She smiled. “You know, I think I have some idea what you’re feeling. I mean, it was pretty bleak out there…on the road. There were times I really didn’t think we would make it. And when Buddy started losing it… Now we’re here. It all seems, I don’t know, too good to be true.”

  “I don’t know if it’s too good to be true,” Bear said. “I just don’t know if I can deal with it. With people.”

  “I feel the same way. But, one of the things I know, I can’t sit in my room here all night. I’ll think of Harris…”

  “He was a good man.”

  “If he could see what was happening…what was happening with Buddy…”

  “They’re trying to help him, Julie. I was talking to one of the doctors about it earlier. Buddy must have had some major clinical issues we didn’t know about.”

  “I know. Harris always said Buddy had his past…”

  He nodded.

  “I want to ask you a favor.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Be the godfather to my child.”

  “Julie, I…” He sat up on the bed, the springs creaking beneath his frame.

  “It would mean a lot to me. It would have meant a lot to Harris.”

  “Wow.” He tried to get his head around the idea.

  “If anything ever happens to me, a godparent would be responsible for—”

  “No, no, I know what a godfather does, Julie. It’s just, I don’t know where I am anymore, with God I mean. I don’t know what I believe any more. I don’t even know if I think there is a God or gods or anything, other than this…”

  “Your religious belief or disbelief, or whatever, that doesn’t matter to me. I’m asking you to help me raise my baby, and if something ever happens to me—”

  “Nothing will ever happen to you.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his feet on the floor. “Not while I’m around.”

  “Then be the godfather of my child.”

  “I don’t know what to say, I’m…”

  “Say you’re honored and you’d be happy to be godparent to this kid.”

  “I am honored.” Bear beamed in a way Julie had never seen him smile before. “And there’s no greater happiness I can imagine than for me to be godfather to your child, to Harris’ child.”

  “Thanks.” She stood up. “Your responsibilities start now. So get your boots on and let’s go. I need a big strong man to lean on, make sure I don’t slip outside.”

  “Okay, give me two minutes.” He patted his bald head. “I’ve got to fix my hair.”

  “What’s he doing here?” Steve asked Lauren and Sonya.

  A group of them were in a big carpeted room of the recreation center. Buddy, freshly bathed and dressed but still looking mostly out of it, was seated in the center of the room on the floor. A bunch of little children were playing duck-duck-goose around him.

  “Who?” Sonya asked.

  “One flew over the coo-coo’s nest over there, that’s who.”

  “Singh and Malden thought it’d be good for him to get out and be around people,” Lauren said.

  “Singh brought him here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then Singh can keep an eye on him. Does that guy even know he’s here?”

  “Sure he does.” Singh walked up to them. “We’re trying him out on some new meds and we’ll see how they work.”

  “I don’t know,” Steve said. “Is it safe to have him around children?”

  Several of the smaller kids splayed their palms atop Buddy’s kinky head and ran around his seated form.

  “We’re all here, Steve,” Sonya said. “What’s he going to do? And if you’re worried about the mentally ill, what’s up with your roommate?”

  Chris was in a small group over on the other side of the room, decked out in his arm bands and face paint. He hadn’t taken them off since the day he rescued Steve at the convoy. Every time he showered he reapplied the paint.

  There was a stereo playing in another corner of the room.

  “Hey, he just bit Victor,” Steve said.

  “Very funny.” Sonya, rolled her blind eyes. “Not.”

  “I mean, you should have seen this guy going at it with those zombies,” Isaak told a bunch of men and women. “You ever seen someone chainsaw zombies before?”

  “Son of a bitch,” Chris said. “I knew he was bad just lookin’ at him.”