“So how’s it work?”
Kovak patted his notebook with his pen. “I mean what exactly happens?”
“You have to understand that to date I’ve only had dead people to examine, so I don’t know the full course of the disease. However, once infected, the virus starts to mutate the victim’s cells and causes the internal organs to break down. The whole body starts to rapidly decompose and...”
Rudy Goldsmith stood up.
“Sorry Bob, I know your kid’s...well, bitten, but doctor, is there a cure for this thing?”
“There may be a cure for this thing, I just don’t know yet. The people who are infected are still people until I find otherwise. I would point out that all those in the later stages of this infection have been violent and dangerous. They should not be approached at any time.”
“Yeah, I’d just like to add something to that Anne,” interrupted Eastman, getting to his feet. “Now as Dr Lenski said, at the moment we need to treat these people as sick. But they will do their best to tear a chunk outta you.”
The burly figure of fire Chief Ron Virdon called out from his seat.
“What’s the best way to handle them Brad?”
“They don’t listen to any kind of reason; if you get yourself into a situation with one of them, high tail it. If you have to defend yourself, strike at the head.”
Veronica Redman waved her arm in the air for attention.
“Dr Lenski, how can we tell if someone’s infected, I mean what should we be looking for? Are there symptoms?”
“Bear in mind, the only cases I’ve come across so far, have what I’m calling, Stage Two or deceased. So I can’t comment on Stage One, or newly infected. Stage Two are very easy to spot; they show signs of advanced decomposition. They seem unable to communicate but fortunately have greatly reduced mobility. I also think there’s some degree of brain damage.”
“Sarge said they got dead man’s eyes,” said Kovak, with a nervous laugh. “So doctor are these dead people?”
A hushed silence fell over the room. Sitting next to Ethan Mason, Ray Johnson clearly heard him utter the word Jumbie under his breath. Then as Eastman concluded the meeting, Johnson lent over to Mason.
“What you say?”
“My family was brought here from the Caribbean. My Gran used to scare us with stories from the old land, about the Jumbies.”
“What the hell’s a Jumbie?”
Mason looked at Johnson and spoke in a low voice, “The spirit of the dead.”
****
Tony Firth poured himself a generous Brandy and fell back into his favourite brown leather armchair. He swished the dark liquid around in the large glass then swallowed, savouring the moment. He let the effects of the drink wash over him as he tried to make sense of the day’s events.
He’d imagined Bridget ranting at him for being unable to find the boy, but she was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well because he wasn’t in the mood to deal with her yacking. Even now, he just could not get the image of that little pink bag from his mind. The thought of what had happened to the poor girl and how she must have felt, made him shut his eyes tightly. No family should have to go through that.
Then there’d been the RV. He’d never experienced that kind of fear before; his heart began to race at the memory. He knew he needed to get a grip. Then of course there was Conrad. The boy was still missing and despite his best efforts, Firth couldn’t get rid of the feeling of guilt at letting the boy down. He’d always set his political ambitions before the boy and he’d lost count of the birthdays and other times he’d missed because of business matters.
Firth took another gulp of his drink; the notion of electioneering was a million miles away. Was it the effects of the brandy, he wondered, or was it something else? If this was some sort of wake up call, he hoped it hadn’t come too late.
He moved over to pour another glass and thought about Eastman’s meeting. He was in no shape to attend and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. Eastman and Lenski would have to manage without him. That Redman woman would be there too, no doubt milking his absence for all it was worth. But who the hell cared?
His thoughts were broken by a sudden crash from upstairs. He called out but there was no answer. He eased himself off the chair and headed for the staircase and called out again. And still the stony sound of silence. Firth started to climb the elegant wooden stairs, his mind reeling.
If Bridget had fallen asleep then she’d surely have heard him and answered by now. Then he spotted a set of muddy footprints heading to Conrad’s room. Bare feet! His heart began to pound and he felt sweat run down his face as he turned the doorknob to the bedroom. Firth flung the door open and saw his son standing in front of him, bloodstained and covered in muck, holding his arms out to his father.
“Conrad!”
Chapter – Thirteen
Frank Jorgan put the letter in his pocket; no matter how many times he’d read it, it still wasn’t going to change a thing. In fourteen days time Mr Bishop would foreclose the mortgage. The farm, the home where they’d lived for the past forty years, would be taken off them. He looked around the small kitchen, watching as Larry put away the last of the crockery. That was Nancy’s chore but she’d taken to bed, sick. He’d kept the letter from her. In fairness to Bishop, he’d done his best to slow things down, but with no more money he’d no other option than to take their home. Jorgan turned to see Kurt bring the untouched supper tray back into the kitchen.
“She left it then son?”
“Yep Pa, said she’d try some time later.”
He placed the tray back on the kitchen table and went to help his brother. It worried Jorgan that his wife had taken sick. It wasn’t her way, but the worry from the farm and that crazy man had taken its toll on her. He looked at the boys and it saddened him to think that in a few days’ time they could all be homeless. If only that darn idiot Seavers hadn’t cancelled his order with them, they’d have enough to get by.
“I’m gonna see Ma for a while, get your work clothes on before I come out. We got us plenty of work to do before dark.”
He left the room and walked the short distance to the master bedroom, then gently pushed the door open. The small room was just light enough to make out Nancy, even with the top window ajar he could still detect that odour. He called out softly to her and moved to the bed. She sat up and raised her hand to him. She looked dreadful; her matted hair had stuck to her head and she was running a high temperature. He sat beside her and took her hand. The faint scratches of a few days ago had now become three ugly brown furrows, oozing pus.
“You don’t look none too good Nancy, how’s that hand?”
“True to say I’ve been better, but don’t fret on. I just wish that boy had clipped his nails some. I hope you ain’t wrecked my kitchen between you all?”
“Nope, but I...”
“I can always tell when you’re worried. It’s the bank, what they say?”
What was it with women; did they all have second sight?
“I had a letter off Bishop; he’s trying to stall for more time, no need for you to worry. I got me a few irons in the fire yet.”
Lying didn’t come easy to a man like Frank Jorgan, but he saw no sense in adding to her woe. They’d lost near a whole day’s work with the search, but it had been the right thing to do. The Lord had said ‘love thy neighbour.’ Folks was in trouble, folks needed help. They still had a few hours’ light to load the trailer and get the produce over to David and Betty Lloyd’s farm. Then of course there was Tony Firth’s offer but that was a last resort. It had to be, with a man like him.
“What you got planned then Mr Jorgan?”
“The Lloyds have given a fair deal for some of our stock, if I can get it to them by tonight, they’ll pay out right away. Now we got us some daylight hours left and if we work through the night...”
“Just hang on there, you been out with them boys all day and in case you forgot, you gonna help search tomorrow as
well. Now how you gonna manage that, Superman?”
“All we gotta do is load up. We can be at the Lloyds’ and back here afore daybreak. I’m telling Brad Eastman I got too much on. Anyways, who gonna look after you?”
“Now wait just one minute there, you given your word to help out and...”
“Be sensible woman, you’re not well. They gonna have to manage without us. We got work to be done.”
“No husband of mine is gonna break his word on account of me. You can fetch my sister up here and she can look after me. But you’re going on that search.”
Why in tarnation was the confounded woman so obstinate? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, but he had responsibilities to his family. If they got back in time they could grab a few hours before they had to meet. He could drop the boys in town and go fetch Iris and then meet up with the search teams later. It would be tight, but it was the only way.
“Nancy Jorgan, you’re a hard woman to please. I guess you’ve gone and won again.”
“Well ain’t that what you married me for, to get my own way? How the boys? How they holding out?”
“They done real good out there today, outpaced anybody else. They done us proud, I let Kurt say Grace this supper.”
“What about those jobs, did you have a word, like you said?”
“I spoke to Benny Arnold; he said there’d be work for them by the end of the week. I mean they still gotta go through the interviews and such, they never gonna work the tills, but they’re good workers.”
“That’s good news. Now, I’m gonna rest a while then I’ll set that kitchen to rights.”
“No need you obstinate critter, we done it all. You ain’t gonna like it, but I’m looking to get Doc Lenski up here first thing.”
“I don’t have time for no medical people poking about with me. Those two bears in there,” – she jabbed a finger towards the kitchen – “I birthed right here in this house, in this bed, just you and me. No need of medical people in this house. You hear?”
“I ain’t listening to you. For once you’ll do as I say. Now I got some work to get on with.”
He leant forward and tenderly kissed her forehead. He was bringing that woman back here no matter what Nancy said. He closed the door and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. The next two weeks were going to be hard but with a woman like that behind him, he could just about do anything.
****
“I tell you, it’s just cuts and bruises, the boy’s fine and he point blank refuses to go to hospital.”
Tony Firth was in the sitting room explaining to Bridget what had happened.
“He didn’t say a word up there.”
Bridget blew on her rose red nails. “Well, where the hell’s he been till now?”
“After those things killed Ruby they all got separated, I guess he wandered about all that time and then made his way back home?”
The real reason of course, was that those kids had run scared and left Conrad to it, all alone. That Glitzman fink taking all the credit: ‘hero,’ what a crock! The time wasn’t right for that now, but he’d get it all sorted later, show them his boy was the real deal.
“Whatever, but Tony, you gotta take him for a check up, he looks awful.”
“He’s just whacked. It’s gonna stress him even more if they start prodding him about. Don’t forget, Eastman’s gonna want to know all sorts. Let him chill, play on the computer a while, we’ll take him in the morning.”
“Okay, but I ain’t happy. You’d better tell Eastman he’s home safe though. He can call off the search in time.”
Eastman was about the last one he wanted to tell; he’d be over in no time with his little notebook for a statement. Firth wanted the time to get the boy’s story right before it went official. He wanted to know everything that had gone on up there. Once things had been said, it’d be too late to get a retraction. Conrad looked rough; he’d been through a lot.
“Look Bridget, I don’t want Eastman over here snooping and asking darn fool questions, until we talk to Conrad ourselves.”
“Don’t be so damn stupid! You gotta tell him Conrad’s back. Half the town’s gonna be looking for him tomorrow.”
“All I’m saying is that we should wait, that’s all.”
“And all I’m saying is, you get your ass over to the station house right now! I’m gonna fix him something to eat. What you still doing here?”
Firth marched towards the front door, picking up his car keys from the brass door hook as he went. Dumb woman! She had no idea how something like this could go wrong. It would be he and Conrad who’d carry the can, not her. Of course, he believed the boy’s story, what he didn’t want was for that tin star to get it all wrong and start taking things outta context. But damn it, she did have a point; he didn’t want a mess of egg on his face when the search teams turned up. He pushed the front door open and walked out to his car. Dumb woman!
****
Benteen was dead on his feet; they’d been at these maps for hours. He looked over at Brad rubbing his eyes; if Brad had to keep going then so did he. It reminded him of High School, just like the times he and Eastman had stayed up cramming the night before a test. Well, more like Eastman doing Benteen’s work, with him looking on.
“Gerard, I think we’ve about covered the search grids. If we keep a narrow pattern and then widen as we go, I reckon by the time we reach the top we’d have about covered the whole damn range.”
Brad had drawn up a much tighter grid and the checkpoints weren’t as far apart, giving the teams more time to report. It’d been good to run the store for a while, but it was good to have Brad behind the ‘big’ desk.
“Sure thing boss. I’ve got a list of all the guys best suited for tomorrow; only thing is we still don’t have enough with experience and good gun sense. I don’t like the idea of some Sunday shooter popping rounds off up there. Maybe we can mix some of them guys in with the four-by-four boys?”
“Yeah, that works for me; it’ll restrict their use of the guns if they’re in vehicles. Is Sarge still up for his one man mission?”
“It would be one hell of a job to stop him. Yep.”
“It’s just before ten now, we’ll send the night patrols out and then bring down the curfew.”
“Brad, I just got to thinking about the homesteads, are we going to bring them in at some time?”
“I don’t think it’s time to circle the wagons just yet, but those folks are on a branch out there. We can start sending the patrols out there tomorrow.”
Benteen nodded in agreement and both men turned towards the door at the unexpected knocking. Eastman walked to the door and was surprised to see Anne Lenski with an armful of fast food. He smiled at her as he called her into the office.
“Well, I never realised you’d taken to delivering this stuff,” joked Eastman as he took the food from her.
“Careful or you’ll have to tip me. I just thought you two wouldn’t have had anything to eat and being ‘men’ you’d both think you could manage without.”
Benteen reached over and took a food bag and a plastic coffee cup.
“Even if he forgot his manners, I sure appreciate it Doc.”
“It’s a pleasure Gerard, at least there’s one gentleman in the room,” she said with a touch of devilment in her voice.
“Oh, don’t you go siding with him; he’s only just worked out how to use the hand driers.”
Eastman made space on his desk and the three sat down and began to tuck in to their overdue supper. Eastman gave his seat to Anne and he sat on the edge of the desk. It had been a long and tiresome day and a little downtime went a long way. Anne sipped at her drink as she glanced at the diagrams on Eastman’s whiteboard.
“It all looks very impressive. Have you about finished with the grand plan for tomorrow?”
“All done, Captain Lenski.”
“I was a Doctor, Brad, not a strategist. Did you bring back the two in the barn yet?”
Eastman ner
vously looked at Benteen, then looked at Anne.
“They weren’t there when he went back for them.”
“What? There must have been another exit. Damn!”
“No, not exactly. Gerard, you got the ball.”
“Someone let them out. The bar was off the door and there were heavy truck prints there abouts. The kind the military use.”
“The military? How’d you know that?”
“Some time back I used to drive for the Guard up at Burnsville. The military use a special tyre. I’d know them treads anyplace.”
“Brad, what’s going on here? I mean first that helicopter and now an army truck?”
“It looks as though someone didn’t want us to get our hands on those two.”
Suddenly, Eastman’s radio set burst into life, it was Clara’s voice.
“Brad you got yourself a visitor. It’s the Mayor, shall I send him through?”
“Yeah, send him right up.”
Benteen moved to hide the treasure. “He ain’t getting his paws on the fries.”
Eastman didn’t really want to see Firth right now; however, the guy did have a vested interest in the following day’s proceedings. And now they had a working plan to show him. It would also be difficult not to involve him in the search. There was a light tapping on the door and Eastman called Firth in.
“How you feeling Tony?” Eastman got up to greet Firth as he entered the office.
“Sorry about the meeting but I was done in.” He nodded to Anne and Benteen before his eyes settled on the fast food feast.
“Hey, this all looks nice and tasty, guys.”
Benteen scowled as he leaned forward to grab the bag of extra fries, clutching them to his chest as he sat back down. In his view, the bum had no right to get involved with police business. He hadn’t been there to support Eastman and Lenski with the meeting, and it seemed typical of him to turn up when something was going on. God damn slob!
“I reckon I owe you an apology for this afternoon Gerard. I was tired and upset. I’m real sorry.”
Eastman shot his deputy a sideways glance, rolling his eyes as he did so, and Benteen reached forward and shook Firth’s hand.
Containment_A Zombie Novel Page 15
