“Thank you,” I say softly. “He was a good man. I don’t know what we’re gonna do without him.” The man turns his attention back to the road, and I look at Aaron, handing him the box with the cure. “I don’t think Ryder is in a place to be in charge of this at the moment. I think, for the time being, you’re gonna have to take over control of the group. He won’t be up for it any time soon.”
Allen eyes our conversation with interest, his eyes going to the box now in Aaron’s lap. “Whatever’s in that box must be important,” he comments slowly. “You refused to leave that jeep until you had it, even though it put your lives at risk. Why? What could be so important that it was worth the lives of two of your friends?” When I glance at him, Allen meets my eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t see that bite when you brought him on board.”
“It’s the answer to all of our problems,” Aaron says, his fingers tracing the cool metal of the box. “It’s a cure, a way to reverse all of this.”
Allen’s eyebrows arch until they’re hidden behind his shaggy hair. “Aaron—”
“I know how that probably sounds,” Aaron admits. “But it’s the truth. We’ve seen it work with our own eyes. Hannah, that girl unconscious in your seat back here, was a zombie when we met. We captured her and brought her in for testing, and she returned to normal.”
I clench my hands and grind my teeth. “She’s not normal. She’s permanently fucked up, and it’s her fault Reese is dead.”
Aaron looks at me, his eyes understanding, but his mouth set firmly. “It’s not Hannah’s fault, Sam. I know it’s easy to blame her for what happened, but we were warned from the beginning about possible side effects. Hers just so happened to be PTSD. It was probably triggered when she saw how many zombies were in the area. Think about it, I’m not sure she’d really seen any zombies before this, at least not up close. This was the first real reminder she got of what she used to be, of the way she used to behave.”
Instantly, a part of me feels bad for blaming Reese’s death on Hannah, but I can’t help it. I still blame her, and Aaron’s words won’t change that. Not fully, at least. I know reactions like that can’t always be helped, but it’s no excuse for her violent reaction and trying to take the wheel from Ryder. If one of us had just managed to stop her…
“So…this cure. It really works?”
“Yes,” Aaron says. “It’s worked on the patients it was tested on. There were possible side effects, like aggression, and I guess PTSD. But the pros outweigh the risks, like most medical advances. If we can get this to his lab in Detroit, where the disease originated, we can reverse the whole thing. Everyone will go back to the way they were.”
“How is that possible?” Allen asks, eyes wide and voice strained. “How can all of this just vanish?”
“With the help of advanced technology that was kept a secret from most of the world,” I say bitterly. “They were messing with things they shouldn’t have, and it was because of their lack of regard for human life they deemed inferior to ours that this whole thing came about. But at least he righted his wrongs before offing himself.”
“The monster that was responsible for the disease spent countless hours in his laboratory trying to make this cure. When it was finally completed, he took the coward’s way out, hoping to avoid a place in hell for the evils he committed. To be honest, I still don’t understand that man at all. He was all over the place, pretty unstable from the beginning, if you ask me. But at least he managed to do one thing right with his life.”
“So, what happens when you do whatever it is you’re gonna do with that cure?”
“It reverses the zombie process. Unfortunately, a lot of people are going to die shortly after. It’s not a cure-all for wounds, just the disease. Anyone with missing limbs or severe wounds or decomposition is going to bleed to death after returning to human. It can’t be helped. But for those that are still in good shape with minor injuries, they’ll have a chance to live again. And it’ll make the world safer for those of us still here.”
Allen goes silent in the front seat, and I’m sure he’s processing everything we’ve just told him. It’s a lot to take in, and I hope he believes in us, because we’re going to need his help to get to Detroit. Not only have we lost a member of our group, but we’ve also lost a good chunk of our supplies and both of our working vehicles. With such heavy hearts, we’re in no shape to be out on the streets by ourselves, looking for a new vehicle and fresh supplies. Hopefully once people at this safe haven learn of the cure, they’ll want to offer any assistance they can.
The trip back to the safe haven takes us just under half an hour—though it feels like an eternity—and soon we’re pulling up to a large gate. On either side of the tall iron gate is a stretch of red brick wall about three feet high, with more iron fence sticking up from the top, adding another four or so feet, making it impossible for zombies to burst through after knocking down the fence. Not that this is just your every day backyard fence. It encircles the entire neighborhood, effectively sealing the evil out and allowing these people to live without being in constant terror.
Allen honks twice and sits back in his seat, watching the gate in front of us. “How do you get in and out without power?”
“We have generators, but that’s probably not all that surprising. Honestly, you need them to survive even a day with an ounce of comfort. We use them mostly for powering our greenhouses, but we don’t bother wasting it on the front gate. There’s a hand crank for emergency situations, like if the power went out during a storm or something. It takes a minute, but it’s good to save power where we can.”
Slowly, the iron gate begins to slide open, and I move closer to the window, hoping to get a glimpse of all this place has to offer. There’s a good chance we’ll be coming back here if we’re successful with the cure, so it makes sense to take it all in now. As Allen eases the bus through the narrow gate, the first thing I see is a small brick building just beyond the gate, tucked away in the corner and out of the way. Large, bullet proof windows wrap around the top half, offering a view inside.
Parked all along the wall beside the small brick building are various vehicles, some in better shape than others but all looking like they’ll run. I see a couple of smaller, fuel efficient electric and gas cars, larger SUV’s and pickup trucks, and even two more buses with snowplows on the front. Allen pulls up beside the last one on the end and kills the engine, turning to look at us. “I have to return the keys to the night watch commander, and then I’ll need to bring you around to the main office so they can look you all over. Don’t worry; its standard practice with anyone we bring back from the outside. They’re just gonna check you over for bites,” he says, his eyes sliding to Ryder in the back. “They’ll insist immediately that he be removed from inside the walls, but I’ll vouch for you when you tell them of the cure.”
“Thank you,” Aaron says, clasping hands with Allen. “I really appreciate this.”
“Don’t worry about it. Though I should warn you, they might still insist on quarantining your guy back there, since he’s currently infected. They won’t put others at risk for a chance that you guys can end all of this.”
“I understand. As long as they don’t try and hurt him, we’ll be fine. We don’t plan on staying very long anyways. We wanna be out of here tomorrow morning, as early as possible. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and the sooner we get to Detroit, the better off Ryder will be.” We look towards the back of the bus, where Ryder hasn’t moved from his lone seat. He’s still staring at the ground, holding his face in his hands, as if he’s having trouble believing what happened back there.
“You can grab your supplies and follow me,” he says, opening the bus doors. “Normally any supplies we bring back go straight to the food hall, but you’re welcome to keep your own with you. If anyone tries to hassle you about it, you tell them to come and talk to me. Okay?”
Aaron nods, and grabs a backpack of food, slinging it over his shoulders. He motions f
or me to follow Allen, and I see him picking up Hannah in his arms, carrying her gently down the steps after me. Just looking at her for a brief second causes an intense rash of sheer hatred, and I have to bite my lip to keep from turning around and knocking her from Aaron’s grasp to make her pay for what she did earlier. I know I shouldn’t blame her for having PTSD since it can’t be helped—just like I shouldn’t blame her for Naomi’s death—but I do. Every ounce of me hates this girl for all of the trouble she’s caused us, and there’s no room right now for sympathy. Only sorrow, anger, and fear. Perhaps some day I’ll look back and feel sad for her, but now is not that day.
Once I’m off the bus, instead of following Allen, I hang back and wait for Ryder. He’s slow to move, and by the time he’s on the ground beside me, the others are far ahead of us. Taking his hand, I drag him alongside me, hurrying to catch up to the others before we lose them. There are curious stares from a few people as we pass by, but they quickly go back to what they’re doing instead of gawking. There are dozens of houses in this fenced in neighborhood, and it looks like quite a few of them are occupied. Without everyone gathered together, it’s impossible to tell how many people live here, but I’m willing to bet that it’s a lot, at least seventy-five.
I’ve yet to see a stronghold this impressive, though from time to time I heard they existed. But in the end, someone infected always got in, and they never lasted long after that. I’m sure by now most have fallen, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find at least several more neighborhoods like this one still in tact. Places that have naturally built walls, made with actual brick or cement, are nothing short of a miracle. The zombies can’t get in, and by the time any enemy tried to scale the fence, they’d be picked off by anyone keeping watch. It’s the perfect setup, with plenty of room for any survivors in the area.
Allen waits for us in front of the main office, and I see that it’s just two small tents side by side, like something emergency responders might use during a national catastrophe. The first tent has a small desk in the back, with a middle-aged woman sitting behind it, hands clasped and waiting for us. She has eyes that are large and inviting, and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses perched over a pert nose. She has deep lines beginning to form around her mouth, but she can’t be older than forty-five. They’re probably a testament to her time in power, whatever kind of power she may have.
When Allen closes the flap behind us, leaving a side one open a crack for light, the woman picks up a notebook in front of her. She clicks a pen and looks back up, her eyes going to each of us. “I’m going to need your name, age, race, gender, and any kind of skills you might have. Once we’re done with that, you’ll head over into the next tent to be given a brief examination. If you pass, you’ll be shown an open home to stay in until we can figure something out a little more permanent.
“Everyone here pulls their own weight. Cooking, cleaning, tending to the greenhouses, security, going out on supply runs, or medical training of any kind…we’ll find someplace to put you. We won’t waste your talents. If any of you are interested in learning a new skill, you can fill out some paperwork and we’ll see what we can do to accommodate you. We want everyone here as happy as can be, so we don’t want to make you work a job you hate.” She turns to Todd, the one closest to her desk. “We’ll start with you. Name?”
He looks back at Aaron, who gives him an encouraging nod. Todd sighs and flips his hair back, looking at the chipped black nail polish on his hands. “Todd. Twenty-three years old. White. Male.”
She scribbles away in her notebook, and when she’s done, she looks at Madison. “Keep it going. You next.”
“Madison. I think I’m twenty-one by now. White. Female.”
“Aaron, twenty-four. White. Male.” He glances at Hannah, lying across a chair, being supported by Madison. “That’s Hannah. We don’t know how old she is. Um, I’d say white, but I don’t really know anything about her. She might be something else. Female, but that might not be right either. She’s not sure yet.”
“Samantha, twenty years old. White. Female.” I glance back at Ryder, who hasn’t said a word since getting on the bus. “And this is Ryder, twenty-nine. White. Male.”
“Okay, now that we’re done with the basics, I’ll go through and have you list off any kind of special skills.” She looks at Todd, and her lip curls up just a tiny bit at the sight of him. I’d put money down that she was a teacher or principal before. Probably seen a lot of kids like him in her day.
“I don’t have any,” Todd says, sneering as he notices her disapproval. “I’m a Jack of all trades, master of none. Stick me wherever, I don’t care.”
She frowns, but makes a note on his page. She goes through the rest of us, accurately guessing Aaron and Ryder’s strengths, despite Ryder’s current condition. Once she’s gotten information on all of us, she flips open another notebook and looks down the pages, scanning the lines with her finger as she purses her lips.
“I have two spots open in the greenhouses; those can be filled by Sam and Madison. For Todd, I think the best place will probably be with the kitchen, most likely as a dishwasher.” He grimaces, but she ignores it, continuing down the list. “We’re always in need of people to go out on supply runs, and we also need more people on security. As our numbers grow, we have more conflicts that arise in any close quarters.” She eyes Ryder, taking in his wide, vacant eyes and his shaking hands. Her eyes soften a bit. “Will he be fit to carry a weapon?”
“Eventually,” I say. “He lost someone very important to him a little bit ago. He’s our leader, and I guess you could say our weapons expert. He’s a former Marine,” I say, trying to talk him up a bit so this isn’t the only first impression he makes. “We’ve just had a rough few days.”
“We’ve lost three of our own on the journey here,” Aaron says. “It hasn’t been easy on him. He puts a lot of the blame on himself, like most leaders. But Sam’s right. He’ll be fit for duty in a little bit. I think he’d be great at security. Probably your best guy if given the chance.”
“You won’t start work for a few days, so we’ll revisit the issue then. But for now, you’ll be added to the security roster. If he is fit, he’ll join you. Just know that I reserve the right to change my mind or any of your jobs if I feel you aren’t a match.” She puts her notebooks away in a drawer behind the desk and raises her voice. “Aniyah! They’re all yours.”
A tent flap to our side opens, revealing a young woman in a white coat, probably in her mid to late twenties. Her skin is a light, creamy brown color, and her eyes are a little darker. Her hair is black and kept in a short pixie cut. Small gold hoops dangle from her ears, and she holds a clipboard in her hands as she studies us with a friendly expression on her face. “I’m Aniyah, the resident doctor. I made it through most of my medical training, but even though I didn’t finish, I’m still the best for the job. If you’ll come with me, we’ll get you all examined. Don’t worry, this won’t take too long.” Her voice is sweet like honey and I’m sure it helps her patients to relax.
Aaron grabs Hannah and carries her into the tent, setting her on an examination table when Aniyah points. I’m a little annoyed that they made us stand around and answer questions instead of getting Hannah the help she needs. There’s no telling what might be wrong with her brain after that crash, and I’d think they’d want to examine her right away. But their paperwork was more important, and it’s not like the doctor is on the other side of the neighborhood. They were literally waiting for us in the next tent.
Aniyah isn’t the only person in the tent. There are two men in white coats with clipboards, and they usher us farther into the tent. One closes the flap behind Ryder, and he looks us over closely, probably trying to decide where to start with us. While Aniyah looks after Hannah, he motions to several nearby chairs. “Take a seat. We’ll take you behind the curtain one at a time and have you undress for a quick examination.”
“You’re shitting us, right?” Todd asks, eyes narrowing a f
raction. “There is mother fucking snow on the ground. Do you honestly think any of us are stripping?”
The doctor doesn’t look up from his clipboard. “It’ll only take a moment. We can’t let you any farther into the community until you’ve been cleared. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to deal. The sooner you strip, the sooner you can get dressed again. You’ll be given some hot chocolate for your troubles while you wait for your friends to finish.” He motions to the screen behind him, tucked away into the corner. “Now, who would like to go first?”
“I will,” Aaron says, getting to his feet.
“Is Hannah going to be okay?” I hear him ask as he’s ushered towards the curtain.
“I am not stripping naked in the snow,” Todd says with a sound of exasperation. “That’s just insane. We’ll get sick for sure. Seems kind of backwards for a doctor to risk getting their patients sick.”
“Todd, it’ll be fine,” Madison says, grabbing his hand in hers. “It won’t take too long. Maybe a couple of minutes tops and we’ll get hot chocolate afterwards. Okay?”
“That might excite me if I was six,” Todd says, glowering at the doctors around us.
Aniyah is doing something to Hannah, but I have no idea what it is. Whatever her tests are telling her, the results don’t look too bad. She doesn’t seem all that concerned that Hannah hasn’t woken up yet, and she’s taking her sweet time moving around the examination table. While I watch her, Aaron comes back from his own examination, fully clothed and shivering. He blows on his hands to warm them back up and shoos Todd back towards the curtain.
“Go,” he orders. “Get it over with. They won’t let us any farther into the community until we’re checked out.”
“What happens when they get to Ryder?” I ask, taking his hand in mine. I’m not even sure he knows I’m right beside him, or even where we are at the moment, but I give him a squeeze anyways.
“I’m gonna go talk to Allen right now and find out who we have to talk to about it. Once they know about the cure, hopefully they’ll be okay with just keeping him separated from the general population while we’re here. It’s not like we’re planning to stay indefinitely for the moment.”
Zombie World (Zombie Apocalypse #3) Page 39
