by Joshua Guess
Rather than try to build into the existing structure, the rest of the space was essentially a house without walls standing open on three sides. The south end of the building connected to the plywood rooms, which stood two levels high, but other than the floor that was the only point of contact.
“They aren’t toys,” Kell said as he hauled himself up. “I can go with you, if you want.”
Emily shook her head. “No, sir. You need to make sure everything is set up in there. Check all your weird biology nerd supplies. Calibrate things, or whatever it is you do. I’ll handle the rest. Besides, I’ll have Allen and Greg with me. I’ll be fine.”
She gave him a peck on the cheek and stepped through the open doorway and into the hangar. The steps leading down from their second-level bedroom looked suspicious due to their rough construction, but they were solid. They didn’t so much as creak as she loped down them two at a time.
“There you are,” Allen said as she dashed toward the passenger van serving as their loyal steed for the day. “What took so long?”
Emily smiled. “You try waking his ass up sometime. It’s like raising the dead.”
Allen chuckled as they piled in. Greg was behind the wheel, and when Emily opened the side door she found Jo, the young woman in Mason’s group, staring out the window.
“Uh, hey,” Emily said. “I didn’t know you were tagging along.”
Jo jumped as if startled. “Oh. I needed to get away from the boys. I hope you don’t mind.”
“The boys?” Emily asked with a frown. “Mike and Randy?”
There was a lot to read in Jo’s grimace. “Yeah. They’re getting kind of clingy. Always following me around.”
Emily nodded sagely. “Well, sure. I don’t mind if you come along. Every hand helps.” Then, because it needed to be said by someone, she added, “But if you think they’ll stop acting like teenage boys all on their own, you clearly haven’t met many teenage boys.”
“I wanted to get out today so I didn’t have to punch them in the face,” Jo said placidly. “I’d rather not have to deal with the fallout if I can avoid it.”
Emily chuckled and lightly socked the younger woman on the arm. “I think we’re going to get along well.”
From the driver’s seat, Greg spoke up. “Where are we going, anyway? I’ve never lived here. This is all new to me.”
Leaning forward, Emily pointed to the road separating them from Haven itself. “Just turn left, follow the wall. Once we past it and into the town proper, we shouldn’t have any trouble finding zombies.”
It was true enough; large communities produced huge quantities of smells that attracted the undead. Haven used various means to drive them off, but mostly they let the walls keep people safe. The heavy stone wall around the original small neighborhood making up the settlement had long been dwarfed by its expansions. The thin but strong additions, made up of re-purposed shipping containers pulled apart and welded back together, seemed to stretch on forever.
They ended soon enough.
“We’re not here to fight,” Emily told the group. “Please remember that. We want to take four or five of them without doing any serious damage. Kell needs intact subjects.”
“And this is the best place to find them?” Jo asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.
They sat parked in the middle of the main road running through this side of town. It was a major thoroughfare for people of all kinds, alive and dead.
“Yes,” Emily said. “There have been all kinds of fights here. Big ones. The eastern half of the county is cut off from this side. All the bridges across the river are blown for miles to the north and south.”
“Ah, I see,” Allen said. “They have to come this way.”
Emily waggled a hand. “Have to? Not really. But they can smell all the people here and there aren’t any other easy ways to travel. Will told the sentries up and down the road to leave a few stragglers alone, so when they show up we’ll be able to catch them.”
The setup was simple, considering they were using themselves as bait. Even in the quietest of times, a steady trickle of zombies made their way from the south or west and moseyed onto the surface streets. The trick wasn’t going to be attracting them—repelling zombies was a problem Emily would have given a limb to have—but keeping good specimens from taking too much damage while also not getting killed themselves.
Jo served as lookout, laying on the roof of the van with binoculars. Barely five minutes passed before she called out.
“Incoming. Looks like a pair.”
Emily shrugged into her armored coat, heavy gloves, and protective neck wrap. The zombies crested the hill and caught sight of the group, picking up speed as they sensed prey. She pulled two pair of handcuffs from her belt, tossing one set to Jo. “You partner with Greg, and wait until he gives you the all-clear to bind them.”
Jo caught the cuffs and slid down the side of the van. She stared at Emily, uncomprehending. “You’re letting me help?”
“Of course I am. Why would I let you come with us, otherwise? Now get ready!”
For someone who had only heard the method of capture described to her a few minutes earlier, Jo did well. She and Emily separated, each drawing a zombie with their movements.
Emily singled out the more dangerous of the two, a New Breed still fresh enough to look almost alive. She jingled the cuffs in her hand, raised her fists like they were going to duke it out. Emily moved carefully, swinging around to put the zombie between her and Allen while also keeping her distance.
Allen was quick in his rush to snag the zombie with his catch pole, but the New Breed was quicker. It jumped forward unexpectedly and slashed with its claws. Emily batted the seeking hands away with her forearm, continuing the motion and using the force of it to spin away. Suddenly not being where she was supposed to forced the zombie to overextend and stumble, which let Allen catch up to it.
“Got it,” he said as he yanked the loop tight. Though the zombie didn’t need to breathe, it still had the instincts of a living creature. It didn’t want to have a loop of steel braid around its neck, controlling its movements. It clawed at the metal pointlessly, and in its momentary panic, Emily swooped in.
The first bracelet went on in the blink of an eye, and with it secured she had leverage to drag the arm down and back. In a liquid movement she got the zombie in a hammer lock and wrenched the other arm back. That part was easy since the damn thing was trying to reach back and slash at her by then. Ducking under the pole, Emily secured the second cuff and held the zombie by the chain between.
With her free hand she grabbed the base of the loop where it disappeared inside the catch pole and guided the bound zombie toward the rear of the van. Someone had opened the doors, revealing the segregated containment area. A heavy sheet of perforated steel made a barrier between it and the passenger compartment. Though the fit was snug, there were six cages nestled inside.
Emily wrestled the zombie into the row of cages on the left, which were actually one long cage with several doors to make separate spaces. By the time she had pushed the zombie all the way to the back and latched the inner gate closed, she was pouring sweat and listening to Jo sigh impatiently as she waited to cage her own catch.
“Calm your tits,” Emily said as she backed out of the van. “This isn’t easy, you know.”
When she got back on the pavement and straightened, she saw Jo standing behind her captive holding it still with one hand. Greg had already removed his loop.
Jo had managed to wrap her belt around the chain of the cuffs while also using the looped end to gag and restrain the zombie. The thing was arched back, having to almost dance to keep its balance as Jo gently guided it with her slim hand.
“No one likes a show-off,” Emily groused. Jo favored her with the sort of shit-eating grin only a supremely confident teenager can pull off.
They had to wait almost half an hour for the next zombie to roll in, this one by itself. When Jo shot her a questionin
g look, Emily waved her on. “By all means, youngster. Show me how it’s done. I’ll be basking in your superior technique while sitting on my ass inside the van.”
Allen laughed hard at the look on the girl’s face, an unusual sound from him. “That’s why you don’t show up your elders,” he said. “You just tricked yourself into extra work.”
Jo considered this for a second, then without a trace of embarrassment became laser-focused on the task at hand. Emily was quietly pleased; Mason spoke highly of the girl. He spent months teaching her to fight, and according to him she picked up combat like some children absorbed a new language or a sport. It was nearly an instinct.
What mattered most wasn’t the natural aptitude, of course, but how much work someone was willing to do when the easy parts were over. Jo didn’t seem to mind shedding her own share of sweat, an attitude Emily could relate to.
The second go round was as flawless as the first, an almost balletic performance. Jo had control and grace, enough caution to keep her safe and the right amount of confidence to prevent hesitation. It had been a small test, decided on the spot, but a test all the same. The unavoidable truth was that the destruction of the compound highlighted a weakness desperately in need of shoring up.
Kell, Emily, and Mason were not enough. If they were going to make a run at Rebound one day, or just move on from Haven at all, it would require skilled people. More than just the three of them.
Jo would do. Emily would have approved of the girl sight unseen, just on the strength of Mason’s judgment. Still, it was reassuring to see the proof with her own eyes that a long-term prospect for joining them in whatever insanity they dedicated themselves to was up to snuff.
She hoped the others, especially the boys, were even half as good.
Kell
“So how is this supposed to work?” Judith asked.
Kell was carefully labeling and arranging bottles and jars of chemicals. He paused and eyed her quizzically. “How much microbiology background do you have?”
Judith gave him a level stare. “I’m a doctor. Assume I’m not an idiot.”
“Okay,” Kell said. “Generally, it’s pretty simple. The Chimera centered around the brain and in the upper spine is differentiated from the Chimera in the rest of the body. In the brain, it forms into epithelial tissue, with very specific kinds of protein filaments creating cell adhesion. The Chimera in the rest of the body tends to be more sparsely spread out in connective tissue, since it aids existing systems and doesn’t need to be as dense or complex.”
Judith, usually reserved, began to nod animatedly. “So you’ve worked out a way to break the bonds between the proteins without affecting the Chimera in the rest of the body.”
“Yes,” Kell agreed. “It’s really the only way we can be sure we aren’t going to kill people whose bodies have incorporated Chimera more heavily than others.”
She nodded. “Mason. You’re thinking of Mason, aren’t you?”
Kell hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, his tissue samples gave me the idea to look at cellular connections as an option. His skin would fall apart if the Chimera in it were killed off.”
Judith waved a hand at an open laptop nearby, which displayed neat rows of notes. “What’s going to stop the epithelial Chimera in the brain from reorganizing and forming new connections?” Then she grinned. “Oh, that’s brilliant. It won’t matter if they connect back up, because the original structure will be lost.”
“Exactly!” Kell nearly shouted. “Right now the brains of everyone infected with Chimera are filled with very delicate, very specific structures made of the stuff that mimic brain function. Disrupting those connections will destroy those functions. Not that it will matter, because we’re not leaving anything to chance. The delivery system I plan to use is Chimera itself. A stripped-down version that will target the specific proteins in the brain-related Chimera and dissolve it.”
Judith frowned. “That sounds incredibly dangerous.”
“I know,” Kell said. “John tried making a cure early on using the same idea, and it didn’t go well. But we tried this already and it worked on him. It didn’t kill him or produce any obvious ill effects. I think it’s our best bet. Not that we’re going to be stupid about it. We’ll test the hell out of it.”
Judith pulled the laptop closer and began scrolling through the data. “If you want me to be useful, you’re going to have to teach me things as we go along. This isn’t really my wheelhouse. I know the basics, but I was never a researcher.”
They spent the next hour figuring out what Judith did and didn’t know. While she had never done the sort of work Kell was expert in, neither had he been a teacher. He found he liked it, and she was a quick learner. Her grounding in general microbiology was solid, and it gave her the foundation to build concepts on.
The sound of someone unlocking the rolling door caught both of them by surprise. Kell was deep into explaining how stripping DNA from Chimera worked and hadn’t heard anyone outside. Transcription factors and downregulation would have to wait.
Greg ducked under the rising door and flipped open the latch that would allow it move past waist-height. “We got a full boat for you,” he said, waving the van back into the bay door.
“Please be careful,” Kell pleaded. “It would be really hard to replace any of this stuff.”
Greg raised a closed fist, stopping the van a safe distance from any surfaces. “No worries, doc. Where do you want ‘em?”
Kell smiled. “We have a freezer. We’ll put them in there and defrost as needed.”
“You’re going to just, like, make zombie pops out of them?” Greg asked slowly.
“Sure,” Kell said. “The freezer runs on propane. It’s an absorption fridge. It doesn’t even draw power from this place, except to light the flame.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Greg said. “I mean, will that even work? I thought they hibernated in the winter like bears. A seasonal thing.”
Kell shook his head. “They sort of shut down when it’s cold enough. And we won’t be wrestling them in there, either. Will got his people looking for the right kind of fire extinguishers, which have a shelf life of about a decade. We’ll chill them down inside the van to make them start to shut down and easier to handle, then we’ll stack them in the freezer until I need them. Simple.”
Greg stared at Kell as if he’d just sprouted a unicorn horn and began chanting in Aramaic. “You know, man, you should have hosted one of those science shows for kids. You’d have been great at it.”
It took a long time, but no one was in a rush. They closed the van off but for a cracked window, the gap taped almost shut. They could fit the nozzle of their extinguishers in. Kell had emptied four and was on his fifth when Allen leaned his face against the glass and looked in.
“You sure this will work?”
“It should,” Kell said. “Fun fact: if you put a cloth bag over the end of one of these, the carbon dioxide will collect into dry ice. Which is a cryogenic solid, so pretty damn cold. Even if that doesn’t do it, we should still be good. These things might breathe through their pores, but they still need a certain level of oxygen. We’re pouring a lot of gas in there that isn’t oxygen, so it should help push them into hibernating.”
Allen gave him a frank look. “I’m not reassured by all the times you just said something should work in there.”
Kell shrugged. “I’m a biologist. You want definitive answers, go find a mathematician.”
It did work, however many doubts Allen might have had. The group was aided by the fact that they were many and could move each zombie individually. The carbon dioxide bath did its job remarkably well. Even if the short time didn’t allow for a full transit into hibernation, a handcuffed zombie zonked into idiocy by low oxygen and temperature was magnitudes easier to manage than the normal kind.
Kell hustled the last one into the freezer himself, where Emily helped him secure it into the restraints on the wall. Greg held the door for them
, a disgusted look on his face.
“What?” Kell said. “Feel sorry for them?”
“Not really. I just can’t stop thinking what it’d be like, chained up in a fridge that way.”
“Better in there than out here where they can hurt people,” Kell said. “Once we thaw them out, they won’t last long. They’re going to be our test subjects, after all.”
They took a break for lunch. Years before, Kell would have marveled at the thought of anyone having an appetite after handling grisly walking corpses. Now people just washed their hands and dug out a snack.
Emily wolfed down a bowl of the stew cooked nearly everywhere in Haven and hopped up. She shot Kell a wink and rushed out the door.
“Where’s she going in such a hurry?” Mike asked as he joined everyone at the picnic table which served as their communal eating space.
“Picking up Mason,” Kell said, and studied the boy. Young man, technically, but he had definitive signs of boyhood still on him. Not in physical maturity, though he was still in that last desperate phase of late teen-hood during which the body broadened and thickened into its permanent shape. It was an immaturity of character, and obvious. He carried himself casually, without the wary set of shoulders and gait one developed in a world as dangerous as this. The way his eyes darted to Jo spoke volumes.
When Randy appeared right after him, Kell might have been seeing double. The boys were friends—and judging from the way Randy also stole glances, romantic rivals—but the mannerisms and even how they spoke made them seem more like brothers than Greg and Allen, who actually were.
“Emily told me you did well today,” Kell said to Jo as she pointedly ignored both boys. “Kicked serious ass was how she put it.”
