by Katz, ML
She stopped herself from pacing restlessly down the narrow aisle between the cots, glanced down at Paul, and saw that he actually looked as if he had fallen asleep. Pam still felt as if her nerves were tingling with an electric charge of fear. Her stomach felt sour. She could not understand how Paul could fall asleep under any circumstances.
Just then, a uniformed soldier wheeled in a cart with sandwiches and drinks. Pam thought she should eat something though her very guts rebelled at the thought. Maybe I’ll calm down and be able to think better if I have a sandwich.
She selected a wrapped turkey sandwich and can of sweet tea from the cart. The drink felt cool and soothing, but the sandwich seemed gluey. After what she had seen and smelled, the turkey meat repelled her. She spit out the barely chewed remains back into her napkin. She finally ripped it out of the middle and just ate the bread and condiments. It still seemed like paste in her mouth but she managed to swallow. After Pam finished, the food seemed to sit in her gut like an undigested rock.
As the soldier left, Pam noticed that he left the infirmary door slightly ajar. She watched as some men and women in scrubs passed, and then occasionally a uniformed soldier. The doctor took a phone call, and then spoke to his assistant in urgent tones. He pulled the sheet back from Dr. Klein and shined a light into her eyes. She still appeared, unsurprisingly, quite dead. Her thin cuffed hand lay limply just outside the sheet. Pam wondered what he was looking for. She wished somebody would cart the body into another room, preferably locked and far away. But she knew it was not for her to presume to give orders right now.
The lone armed guard answered a cell phone call and stepped outside the room. No matter, now the hooded creature showed little more inclination to move than Dr. Klein did. Paul snored, seemed to mumble something, and then grew quiet again. Amazingly, Pam started to grow bored as the anxiety seeped from her body.
Now she felt hunger pangs again and wished she had taken another sandwich off the cart. She thought about asking for something else to eat but the soldiers looked very stern and the medical personal were all consumed with other tasks.
She had been about to plead with Dr. Lincoln for permission to leave this place and return home when Captain Crawford rushed back into the infirmary room. He glanced around quickly, and then approached the doctor. “We have a new situation,” he said.
“What is it?” Dr. Lincoln said. He looked alarmed by the expression on the officer’s face. In the few hours that Pam had known him, he had always carefully arranged his features in an expression of calm authority. He had simply appeared stern and professional when Dr. Klein had unexpectedly crashed. Now he looked frightened.
“About a half dozen of those Zed things must have walked out of Future Faith,” he said. “We got the place sealed off pretty quickly, but they could have even left before we arrived. The side door by the parking garage wasn’t locked and could be opened by leaning into it.”
“Where’d they go?”
“We know that some of them stopped traffic on the road, just wandering aimlessly about. A couple of drivers, and then a couple of state police troopers left their vehicles and got ambushed. There’s holy hell out there, and it happened fast.”
“Is it contained?” the doctor asked. Some alarm tinged his normally mild voice.
“Hell, no,” Captain Crawford said. “An injured trooper managed to pull his dead partner back into their car. We might be able to track them down, but observers told us that a handful of other injured civilians got back into their cars and drove off. Nobody got license plates. I’ve got men trying to track them down, but they could be anywhere.”
Pamela lost her urge to leave the secure building. This place, at least seemed safe from outside threats. Getting back to her car and just driving back to her apartment to resume already seemed like a distant fantasy now.
The grim soldiers appeared able to contain the threats they had allowed inside this place at least. She felt lucky now that she had no close friends or family nearby. Her parents and siblings were hundreds of miles away. At this point in her life she did not even have a pet to worry about.
Hopefully, by tomorrow I can call my folks and explain what’s going on. There’s no use bothering them this time of night. Then Pam froze. Even if I could call my parents, how am I going to explain this? They’ll think I’ve lost it and Dad will probably hop on the first plane out here. The last thing I want is for them to leave Iowa for this place.
Captain Crawford told an orderly to turn on the small TV mounted high on one wall. A news flash informed the public about the virus without giving specifics.
If this news goes national, Mom and Dad will find out anyway.
The announcement said that any injured people should immediately report to the nearest hospital for treatment. Of course, Pamela knew that the only current treatments were either containment or destroying the host’s brains. She wished she could get back to Future Faith and find Dr. Klein’s papers. There had to be clues on her computer or among her papers.
Things would only get much worse, very quickly, if the contaminated were allowed to wonder around freely. They could transform into these creatures at any time.
Distracted by the news, nobody noticed Dr. Klein’s eyes pop open. Broken capillaries gave her eyes a reddish tint, and her skin appeared pale and somewhat greenish. She had always been fairly thin, but dehydration made her appear almost skeletal.
She jerked suddenly, and the cuff slid down her hand. The soldier must not have tightened the cuff much because he didn’t want to hurt Dr. Klein. Who thought that frail looking woman could be such a threat? Another jerk freed her hand and she tumbled out of bed. Pam felt frozen with horror as she watched her old boss’s reanimated body land clumsily, but somehow find footing. The small woman rose and then practically fell into Dr. Lincoln. Without thinking, he put up his hands to catch her as if she were a stumbling patient. Before anybody could react, she had her mouth buried in his chest. The doctor screamed shrilly.
Captain Crawford pulled his weapon and ended Dr. Klein’s second life in an instant. The shot still rang in Pam’s ears as she watched blood start to seep through the doctor’s chest as he tried to remain standing. He had clearly been bitten deeply.
Pam felt only pity as Dr. Lincoln tried to cover the bite wound with his hand and sat heavily on the cot that had just contained Dr. Klein a moment before. Excited by the disturbance, the hooded Zed moaned and jerked on his own cuffs. He had been more carefully fastened, and his restraints held. Captain Crawford still held his weapon. He seemed to be considering using it on Dr. Lincoln, but in the end he shouted for the guard to rush back in and make sure the doctor was securely restrained on the cot.
A nurse hesitated, but then approached the doctor to treat his wound. She wore two layers of gloves and a surgical mask. At this time, nobody could be sure how the contamination spread. Dr. Lincoln appeared to be in shock, and he submitted to his treatment without complaint.
Incredibly, Paul slept through the entire scene. Pamela was still rooted in place, in her own sort of shock. She finally moved her head to view the door. This place no longer seemed like a haven of security. These people did not know what they were doing and neither did anybody else. The threat was entirely new, and it was not likely to end soon.
Each time it seemed like the Zed things were under control, some new thing happened and the situation turned for the worse. We have to quit making the same mistakes. Pamela felt sorry for Dr. Lincoln, but she truly believed that the kindest and wisest thing that Captain Crawford could have done would have been to shoot him in the head right away. If I got bitten, that’s what I’d want. The animated corpses can’t be anything other than abominations.
Two men in fatigues stepped into the room with a light stretcher. They quickly scooped up Dr. Klein’s lifeless body and exited. A second pair of men entered after them, armed only with a mop and cleaning clothes. Within minutes they cleaned the floor and walls of Dr. Klein’s blood and brain mat
ter. After they left, it seemed to Pamela as if the incredible doctor had never been in the room at all.
But now the officer turned to Pamela. “Are you sure you weren’t infected?”
Pamela bit her lip and shook her head. “I wasn’t bitten, if that’s what you mean. In some ways I was just lucky. But as I’ve mentioned several times, I’m a pathology doctoral candidate. I took precautions from the beginning. If you want to get somebody to examine me, it’s fine. But I wasn’t even scratched.” The Pam paused and met Captain Crawford’s direct look. She shook her head. “But no, I’m not sure that the virus can’t be transmitted through the air.”
“What about him?” The officer nodded towards Paul, who still slept. Before he had been restless, but now he was still. Pam could not understand how he could have remained unconscious through the entire disturbance, but perhaps the Taser had affected him somehow.
“I don’t’ think he was infected either,” Pam said. She shrugged. “I wasn’t with him the whole time.”
“How do we know it’s not airborne?” Captain Crawford asked.
“We can’t yet,” Pam said. “But if it was, both you and I would be infected by now. So would Paul. I really need to get back to Future Faith to look at Dr. Klein’s research papers. She mentioned them briefly but I wasn’t privy to her research. Before we got evacuated from the building, Dr. Klein wanted the officer in charge to know she had her research stored there. She wanted to stop him from just destroying the building. But like you, I have more questions than answers right now.”
Captain Crawford took a moment to absorb her words. Then he shook his head. “Well, I have a nasty little surprise for you.” His face had become stern and commanding again, and Pam was not sure if she feared the Zed or this man more. “The blood tests came back, and you and Paul have some of the same new proteins as the confirmed Zed infection. What do you think about that?”
Pam took a step back, trying to absorb this new information. She had certainly not seen Paul being injured, and she knew she had not actually been bitten by the malignant things. She forced her mind to quiet as she took stock of her own body.
She shook her head resolutely, “I’m not sick, Captain. I don’t know what to think. In some cases, an airborne variation might not be as virulent as a contact infection. Maybe the weakened form of the virus gives our bodies time to adopt so we don’t become symptomatic. That is, if it is a virus as Dr. Klein supposed.” Pam shrugged. “She developed it so I guess she would know if anybody would.”
Then she paused and tried to examine the new information from a different angle. She felt frazzled and found it hard to concentrate. We don’t have enough information.
“Look,” she said finally, “here again is what I think. Dr. Klein kept copious notes about her research. What we need to do is get back to Future Faith and find out what she did. She told me that she ran dozens of animal tests. It is likely that we would uncover some clues back there. I could help with that because I worked there. I’m not a doctor, but as I’ve told you before several times, I’m a pathology student working on my doctorate. Dr. Klein selected me for an internship because of my specialty.” She glanced at Paul and added, “He could probably help too. He’s a medical student, and there had to be some reason Dr. Klein hired him. One thing you can say about her is she was pretty selective.”
“Why’s he asleep?” Captain Crawford said. “I’ve known some cool characters in my time with the military, but I’ve never seen any of them sleep through a gunshot ringing a few feet from their heads.”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Pam admitted. “I don’t know what his schedule was like before the incident. He could have been up for hours before this thing started, and then had to fight his own way out. Maybe it was the Taser shot. There could be a reasonable explanation for it.”
“He slept through a gunshot,” Captain Crawford repeated. “That seems peculiar.”
Pam wanted to protect Paul, but she had no real reason to argue with the officer. She glanced at Paul again, relieved to see his chest rise and fall in a regular rhythm. He appeared to be simply napping. She took a deep breath, stepped towards the young man, and put a hand on his forehead. He did not feel feverish. George had definitely appeared feverish before he succumbed. As she touched him and softly called out to him, his eyes opened and he looked bewildered. Then he glanced around, saw Pamela standing above him, and frowned. “I had some kind of nightmare.”
“You may have woken up into a worse one,” Pamela said, sparing nothing with her words or expression. She nodded towards Captain Crawford. “He says we’re all infected. We just don’t have symptoms. The virus must be airborne.”
“Did you get scratched or bitten by the things?” Paul asked, slowly rising into a sitting position. His fair hair was tousled, and Pam thought he looked boyish and uncertain.
“No, I’m sure of it,” Pam said decisively. “But Enrico was spitting some goo out of his mouth. I didn’t feel like I was sprayed by it, but I can’t be sure. I don’t know if the stuff is absorbed by the skin, or if it is airborne. Anyway, our blood tests were positive, but we’re not symptomatic.”
“You mean that we’re not lurching around trying to eat people?” Paul asked.
Just then the infirmary door opened again. Three soldiers ushered in a small group of people. Pamela quickly counted off three men and two women. One of the men wore a state trooper’s uniform, and he had heavy bandages wrapped tightly under a tattered sleeve. One woman’s hand was entirely engulfed in some sort of surgical wrapping. The other three just seemed to sport an assortment of cuts and bruises, some covered by small bandages. They all looked tired and bewildered.
“Sir,” the lead soldier said to Captain Crawford. He saluted. The officer nodded back.
“These people all turned themselves in at hospitals, and we ushered them here as ordered,” the soldier said. Another soldier directed them each to take a cot. As they entered, Dr. Lincoln seemed to rouse himself on his own cot, but he only gently pulled at the cuff, and then quieted again. The infected creature, still hooded and cuffed on the other side of the room, remained quiet. The newcomers selected their cots and stared at the creature.
Captain Crawford tried to arrange his grim and rugged features into some semblance of a welcoming smile. “You folks make yourselves at home. We’ll have nurses here promptly to triage and treat you. This is for your own safety, and the safety of the general population. I appreciate your cooperation.”
“Do you mind giving us some information?” the state trooper asked as he sat on one of the clean cots. “I’d like to know what’s going on, and also I’d like to find out where my partner is.” He glanced from Captain Crawford to the creature by the opposite wall. “I’m also curious about that guy.”
“I don’t have information about your partner, Officer,” Captain Crawford said. “We’ll be sure to fill you in with as much as we know. Right now, we just need to take care of your health.”
One of the women looked like a body builder, with developed arms showcased by a sleeveless shirt. She refused to sit. One large bicep had been covered by white bandages. The other one displayed an intricate tattoo. The white cloth of her bandage was stained pink at the edges. She looked angry, and Pam could visualize her getting out of her vehicle to yell at the creatures that had blocked her car. She might have tried to intimidate it as she, no doubt, intimidated most people. Then she must have found out that the Zed did not get intimidated no matter what anybody did to threaten them.
The woman beside her was lean, like a runner. She had a spiky haircut, artfully dyed platinum blonde at the tips. The pair stood close, as if personal space was not something they kept between them.
The other two looked like ordinary business men, probably on their way home from office jobs. They did not appear to know each other, and they silently took their places on cots.
“We need to know what’s happening here,” the body builder said. Her square jaw, croppe
d haircut, and aggressive stance made Pamela take a step back. She considered herself a tough farm girl, but nothing like this obviously strong and domineering woman. The woman’s developed arms looked as thick as Captain Crawford’s. For some reason the woman seemed to be addressing Pam, and not the officer.
“I’m like you,” Pam said. She spread her hands in a gesture she hoped was peaceful. “They brought me here.” She glanced at Captain Crawford sideways. “I might know a little more than you do but not much.”
“We don’t have any information to give you right now,” Captain Crawford said. “You are simply here to be tested and treated. You’re welcome to watch the TV, and we will have some more food delivered right away. Other than that, we’ll give you any information as quickly as we can. For the time being we need you all to stay here. That’s for your own protection and safety.”
Now the room held eight patients, nine counting the Zed still chained on the far side. Four armed soldiers guarded the room, while a handful of men and women in scrubs and surgical masks took blood, gave injections, and checked wounds. None of the new injured people had been cuffed so far, but now one soldier’s job seemed to be to man the door and make sure it was kept closed and locked. At a knock, he glanced through the small, reinforced window, saw the ID of a young man in workman’s clothes, and let him enter. The young man pulled a cart, like the last one, piled with wrapped sandwiches and cans of drinks.
Since Pam had eaten little all day, her stomach almost ached with hunger now that the cart reminded her of food. She picked up roast beef and forced herself to sit on an empty cot and eat it. Her stomach seemed to have settled, and she had no problem swallowing the food. Though the room had been cleaned, the air still smelled tainted with the combined odors of rot and disinfectant. The food still seemed to drop into her stomach like a weighted lump, but she did not believe she was ill. Every bite just seemed to remind her of the way those things would gnaw into human flesh, and that thought made her wonder if eating animal flesh was so different. After the sandwich had been reduced to crumbs, she opened a small can of orange juice and washed it down.
