“What set him off?” I ask.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “He’s been acting pretty suspicious for the last few days, and I asked him if he wanted to talk to someone about how he was feeling. That’s probably it.”
“He’s the second one this week,” I say quietly, my lips barely moving. “And the seventh overall. I hope this doesn’t get any worse. People are getting scared all over again. It won’t be long before there’s a panic and people start getting dangerous in their own way. You know how people can be.”
Allen nods, grimacing when the movement pulls at the wound in his shoulder. “I do know. I hope it doesn’t get to that point. Seven people out of the hundred we brought into the community isn’t really that large of a number if you think about it. People will just have to understand that.”
“Tell them that,” I say, nodding my head to the others in the room, who are huddled in the back corner, as far away from a still kicking and screaming Marvin as they can get. “They’re worried anyone we brought into the community will be next, and I don’t blame them. It’s hard to trust people that bear the obvious signs of having been dead, especially when you know that there’s someone like Marvin possibly lurking just beneath the surface, ready to emerge at any time.”
I glance back at Marvin and feel a pang of pity in my gut at the sight of him. He’s missing chunks of flesh out of his arms from several bite marks and one of his ears is gone, ripped clean from his head. His hair is patchy in some places and has yet to grow back in yet, giving him the look of a mad man, as if he pulled it out himself. And perhaps he has, when he’s alone and there’s nobody to help him through his problems.
Chad and Roberts drag Marvin from the food hall, but even after he’s long gone the tension doesn’t leave the atmosphere. Nobody goes back to their lunch, and the carefree laughter and joy that was present just moments ago is long gone. I peel away the wet napkins and Allen groans at the sight of the wound in his shoulder. “At least I don’t have to worry about it getting infected.”
“Not with the disease,” I say, “but a regular old infection? That’s still on the table. Come on. You have to see Aniyah. She’ll give you something for the pain and to keep your chances of infection down.” I help him to his feet, and we make our way out of the food hall. I stop to grab Allen’s coat and help him into it, but he doesn’t want to move his shoulder, and just waves me way, leaving his one shoulder exposed to the cold.
On our way out, we bump into Aaron. He’s breathless and his eyes are worried as he takes in Allen’s shoulder. “I heard there was another attack. That makes how many so far?”
“Seven,” Allen says through clenched teeth.
“This isn’t good. We’ve already had nineteen suicides since coming back from Detroit, and now this? I’m not sure how much more these people can take.”
“Aaron, these people have survived hell. I think they can handle a few more scares. They’ve been reassured repeatedly that there is no more disease, and these people won’t start the second plague. They are just going to have to deal with this the best way they can. I have faith in them.”
He nods, but he still looks worried. And I don’t blame him. After the cure spread through the city and surrounding areas, it wasn’t long until every unresponsive zombie began changing back. A few hours and there were people on the streets again, a majority of them bleeding to death right before our eyes. I close my eyes to try and stop the images from flashing across them, but it’s no good. I can still picture men, women and even children choking to death on their own blood, holding their intestines in their hands, missing limbs and faces and wondering what happened and why they were in pain.
Aaron takes Allen’s arm from me, shouldering his weight as I lead the way to Aniyah. In the two months since our return from Detroit, she’s moved out of the medical tent and into a small building erected by members of the community. It’s a small and simple three room building with five beds and an examination table, but Annette hopes to expand it in the near future to give her and the rest of the doctors more room to work.
Inside, two of the beds are occupied by people that were attacked last week by a woman who freaked out during the second weekly church meeting, led by a pastor that showed up at the gates a couple of weeks ago. The people seem to like him, and his presence obviously calms many of the people here, so I’m grateful for his arrival. I’m not particularly religious and haven’t attended, but I might start to go in the near future.
Aniyah leads us into the far room, a saddened expression on her face. Marvin is strapped to the only bed in the room by his wrists and ankles. His eyes are closed and his breathing is much more peaceful than it was earlier, and it’s obvious that he’s heavily sedated and no more of a threat to anyone. She looks at him and shakes her head. “At least this one wasn’t as bad as the first,” she says quietly, her voice shaky and tired.
The first. A pre-teen girl who never told anyone her name. She showed up at the gates in the week following our return from Detroit, and it only took two days for her true colors to show. When her neighbor’s dog went missing, nobody ever expected to find the remains in the home where the girl was staying. They also never expected for her to viciously attack those that confronted her, biting off a finger in the process and wolfing it down like a cheese stick.
I remember the look in her eyes as Allen and the others threw her back outside the gates. There was a hunger in her eyes, but more than that, there was an evil glint. She had known exactly what she was doing, and she would do it again if given the chance. That much was assured. She was the only person taken in that showed a craving for human or animal flesh, but the others still worried constantly that anyone we brought inside the gates would end up being exactly like her.
It’s a valid fear. When we returned, they thought the world was going to right itself. They thought they could stop living in fear now that there were no longer brainless monsters trying to eat them. Now they know the truth—that we traded slow moving, unintelligent cannibals for faster, more cunning ones.
Aniyah’s best guess for her behavior was that some people had more memories from their time as zombies than others did, and they just couldn’t let go of the things they had done. For those people, that craving for flesh was still there, not far below the surface and waiting for any chance to come to the forefront. We had been hoping it was just an isolated incident until one of our guys went missing while on a supply run and the last glimpse anyone had of him was being approached by a woman in the streets. Then a gunshot, and nothing after that.
Groups of intelligent cannibals. Just what the world needed. And we were the ones who unleashed them. But the pros still outweigh the cons, I remind myself as we help Allen onto the examination table. There are some lost causes and new dangers even worse than before, but there are a lot more good people that have a chance to live again because of what we did. I just wish everyone understood that.
There are too many people that don’t think we did the right thing. Now that they know the outcome, they’re not happy about it. It’s easy for these people to judge though. They were safe behind these walls with a prospering community, plenty of food, and even a few luxuries like fireworks and alcohol. The rest of the world isn’t in such good shape, and they needed this cure, even if it did bring dangers with it. I’m still thankful for our decision, even if it did cost us some people we loved and some security.
Ryder…
While Aniyah examines Allen’s wound, I head back outside, zipping my coat up a little higher to avoid the chilly air. I’ve tried not to lose hope of ever seeing Ryder again, but it’s hard. I look around and see others around me with their happiness, and mine is nowhere to be found. I’ve talked to Aaron about returning to Detroit to look for him, but even though he was sympathetic, he refused, pointing out that if Ryder survived that day, he’s long gone by now. And there’s no telling where he might be.
I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I’ll make my way
back to Chicago—back to you. One day you’ll find me standing outside those gates shouting your name, and everything will be okay.
That’s what he said to me, and I know he meant it. He’ll come back to me someday, no matter how long it takes. Until then, I just have to be content to sit outside the gates every day at noon and wait for the day he finally arrives. My feet carry me in that direction, and soon I find myself sitting in a chair by the corner of the gate. It’s uncomfortable and cold, but Allen brought it out for me when he saw how serious I was about waiting for Ryder.
Annette jokes that I should be made the official greeter for the community, since I’ve been at the gates to welcome most of the new arrivals. Whenever someone shows up I head for the guard shack hidden away in the corner and inform whoever’s on duty that we have a visitor. Then they decide if it’s okay to let them in or if they look too suspicious. If they don’t look friendly, the guard goes to get Allen or Annette, and it’s up to them to decide whether they get let in or if they’re sent away.
Most people who are let in decide to stay when they see what we have to offer, but there are some who rest and get back out on the road. A lot are busy searching for people they lost who might now have a chance of living again. I guess it’s hard to stay in one place when there’s even the slightest possibility that your spouse or child or parents are alive out there somewhere. I understand that feeling all too well. Every day I get the urge to go outside this gate and look for Ryder, but I remind myself to have faith in him.
An hour passes as I sit beside the gate, and the loneliness begins to creep in. Finally, I can’t take the cold anymore, and I get up and head back towards the medical building to check on Allen.
“Sam!”
That voice stops me in my tracks, and I close my eyes as it sinks in. I’d know that voice anywhere, no matter how strained it sounds, but I can’t bring myself to turn around. So many times I’ve heard his voice calling my name only to find he wasn’t really there. This time will be like all the others, a bitter disappointment and a harsh reminder that I’m alone for now. But what if…
Slowly, I turn around. Ryder appears at the front gate, and I feel my knees go weak with relief. I run for the gate, screaming his name as if I’d never get another chance to say it again. His arms open and I throw myself against the bars, reaching for him, trying to close the distance until there’s none left. His arms don’t go around me. Instead, he sobs and drops to his knees in the snow, pulling me down with him. His face is pressed against my chest through the bars, and I can feel the tears dripping down my neck.
I pull his face up, eager to feel his lips against mine—just to confirm that he’s really here and this isn’t some sick dream. But he stops me, turning his face away as his eyes go wide and lifeless. “Don’t,” he says, his voice weak and pitiful. “You’ll only taste blood.” The words hang between us like a brick wall, and as they sink in, I realize exactly what they mean. “I can’t get the taste out.”
“Oh, Ryder.” I pull him closer, stroking his hair and whispering soothing words to him. “It doesn’t matter what happened before,” I tell him. “It wasn’t you. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
He moans, hiding his face in shame. “What are the odds that I’d turn and find someone to attack in the short time it took you to spread the cure?” He’s shaking in my arms, and I force him to look at me. “I killed someone,” he says, dirty face streaked with tears. “I attacked them, I killed them, I ate them!” He sobs, wrapping his arms around me and shuddering against my body.
For Ryder to have turned so soon after leaving us, he must have been even closer to the end than he let on, and he never told us. He stayed strong until the very end, all to give us our best chance of making it. Right now, I don’t care what he did while he wasn’t himself. I’m not going to worry about any of the consequences. All I care about right now is that I have my happiness back in my life, and I’m going to do everything I possibly can to make his life better and help him heal past this tragic incident.
I pull away from him, and he lets me go without a fight, finally giving me my first real good look at him. My heart breaks at the sight of him, all dirty and covered in vicious scars—a sign of his sacrifice. I can’t see his entire body yet, but his neck and face are covered in scars from fingernails gouging flesh out of him in strips. They crisscross over his cheeks and jaw line, and one cuts his right eyebrow in half, disappearing up into his hairline. He looks like a completely different man than the one that told me goodbye months ago.
“I’ll get you cleaned up, in some fresh clothes, and then I’ll get you a hot meal. It’ll make you feel better. Plus the others can come visit when you’re up for it. What do you think?”
“Whatever,” he says, eyes closing.
The guard finally comes over and after a heated discussion, he agrees to let Ryder in. I know he took one look at Ryder’s face and decided he wasn’t going to let him in, but one look at the fury on mine and he relented without much of a fight, promising me that he was going to report my behavior to Annette. I can worry about that later though. For now, my sole focus has got to be on Ryder and getting him better.
I lead him through the community, trying to keep him from public view as much as I can. I don’t want him to feel freaked out, or like some kind of zoo exhibit on display. We make it to the house without much trouble, aside from running into a small girl who takes one look at his face and screams before running away. He closes the front door behind us, and I wonder if it’s best for him to see the others now or to wait. Seeing how much we’ve all missed him might do him some real good, but I don’t want him to be overwhelmed by everyone all at once.
Thankfully, the only one home right now is Aaron. He looks up as I walk into the living room and his eyes travel over my shoulder, landing on Ryder. His eyes widen and he’s on his feet in an instant, a look of uncertainty plainly written on his face. “I don’t believe it,” he says breathlessly. “Is it really you?”
Ryder nods, and the ice is broken. Aaron rushes over and pulls him in for a hug, thumping him on the back. When he pulls away, I’m surprised to find tears in both of their eyes. I know that they’ve leaned pretty heavily on each other when it comes to being leaders, but I had no idea they would be so happy to see one another. Aaron looks from Ryder to me, a frown on his face.
“Do the others know yet?”
“No. I wanted to help him get cleaned up first. I thought it would do him some good to see the man he was before.”
Aaron nods. “I’ll go find him some clean clothes to wear. The shirt might be a little tight since he’s so big compared to me, but it’ll have to do for now. You should help him get into the shower while I do that. Do you want me to go find the others?”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I say. “Once he’s cleaned up, it should go smoothly.” Turning to Ryder, I motion to the stairs. “You remember where that bathroom is, right? Why don’t you go start a nice hot shower and I’ll be up there in a minute?”
Without a word, Ryder turns from us, heading up the stairs and out of sight. When we’re sure he’s not lingering, Aaron turns to me. “What kind of problems do you think he has? And don’t lie to me. I can read people pretty well.”
I sigh. “It’s too early to tell. He did turn and attack someone, but I’m not sure how much of it he remembers, or what kind of lasting affect it’ll have on his mind. I’m hoping he’ll be able to put it all behind him with some time and love and understanding.”
“Be careful being alone with him,” Aaron says. “I know you don’t wanna hear this, but he might be dangerous. I shouldn’t even be leaving you alone with him to go find him something to wear. The only reason I am is because it’s Ryder, and I don’t think he’d hurt you even like this. Keep your guard up.”
Underneath all of the scars, Ryder’s the same man I fell in love with. I just know it. Once I help him get cleaned up and looking more like his old self, he shuts himself in the bathroom an
d brushes his teeth over and over again. I’m sure he’s done it since coming back and the blood isn’t really there anymore, but I figure this is somehow symbolic to him, like an opportunity to finally flush away all the horrors that are plaguing him.
Aaron left a pile of clean clothes for him and went to find the others, and together we wait downstairs for them to all arrive.
*****
Later that night, Ryder’s screams wake me. The very first scream that tears from him in a strangled outpouring of agony has me sitting bolt upright in bed, narrowing avoiding having an elbow driven into my ribcage. He thrashes around the bed, struggling with something only he can see, and I quickly rush to his side, narrowly avoiding another blow. My hands search through the darkness to find his face, and my touch seems to calm him.
“Ryder!”
His eyes snap open and his body goes still beside me. The room falls silent except for the sound of his harsh, ragged breathing. When I’m sure his attack is over, I move in close to his side, pulling him to me as gently as I can. His chest rises and falls with each deep breath he takes, and it isn’t long before he bursts into tears, clutching my pajamas and sobbing just like at the front gate. My arms go around his shoulders and pull him in closer, and my fingers weave through his shaggy hair in soothing motions.
“You’re okay,” I say quietly, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re okay. It’s just a nightmare.”
“It feels so real,” he says, his voice hoarse from screaming.
“But it’s not,” I remind him. “It’s just your mind trying to play tricks on you. You’re safe now, Ryder. You’re you again, and you’re safe here with me and people who care about you. Nothing you’re seeing is real; we don’t live in that world anymore.”
Zombie World (Zombie Apocalypse #3) Page 46
