by Rose Francis
Steven took another breath.
“You know I’m no fan of complicated situations beyond work, yet here we are. She’s alive, she’s healthy, and she’ll make it—I’ll make sure of that.”
Then Steven felt the dangerous break in himself begin.
It had happened to him a few times in his life beyond childhood: once, after coming home from his first mission abroad. One of his fellow soldiers was in killing mode, and discerning had been left behind—something he later realized became inevitable almost every time—and the soldier spotted a woman trying to get out of the sight of their tank, holding an infant close to her. The soldier blew half her head off, and the body of the woman still held on to her wailing child until it fell to the ground and her arms opened. No one knew what to do about the wailing infant, and they just kept driving past.
When he got home, that memory started a string of flashbacks of all the lives he had seen taken in horrific ways before him, sometimes by his own hand.
He found a moment alone, and no one ever knew how much he had mourned those lives.
The second time the break happened, it was the single open moment he had allowed himself after his father’s death. Somehow, he had managed to keep himself together at the funeral, but one day, he caught a glimpse of the only photo they had together with him as an adult, and despite his dad being in and out of their lives, he remembered all the moments he’d had with him right then—when he had taught him how to fish, and how to refill the oil in a car. It was as if the only way his dad could find to be a father to him was to instruct him. Later, past his adolescent years, Steven found it almost funny when his father still tried to show him how to do something. But in the moment he looked at that photo, his dad’s compulsion to teach was no longer funny, because he remembered the look in his father’s blue eyes the last time he saw them, as he explained how an air conditioner worked—almost desperate—and Steven realized what the look was: a desperation to connect to an adult son who no longer needed him for anything or to teach him anything, an adult son who could teach him a thing or two when it came to just about anything.
Steven lost it for a moment—another moment he was thankfully alone.
Everyone saw him as a machine—a stoic soldier who did what needed to be done, a healthy version of the type of creature coming toward him, and there was no way he’d want to tarnish that, because he was a machine—a soldier who did what needed to be done.
“I love her,” Steven whispered through his tight throat, ignoring the slow streams escaping his eyes.
Gregory walked almost straight up to the barrel before Steven pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: REUNITED
At some point, the stench from the air stopped bothering Steven. The stench from the bodies of the diseased and the Morphs—before and after burning—stayed with him for a bit, but eventually disappeared. But the stench from his former best friend’s body remained in his nostrils, long after Steven had gotten on the road again. He felt like his body had absorbed it, and had taken it on as a new layer.
He was partly grateful for the smell because it distracted him from the images—the vision of Gregory having melted away almost to the point of putrefaction. Those sagging eyes, and the bruised-looking skin. The overgrown nails. The droopy body. The bullet going through his forehead, leaving a maroon mark.
Whenever a vision persisted past the scent memory, Steven tried shaking it off with the memory of something else—Serena’s face, or the way she looked from the back, naked and descending into a body of water to bathe—but the horrible impressions and images of disease persisted. So much so, that when Steven saw a figure on the road ahead of him, he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. But the vision remained, even after he shook his head, and briefly closed, then opened his eyes.
Not again, Steven thought as he watched the figure, but then he realized something odd: Morphs did not move the way this figure was moving—jumping up and down and waving arms to catch attention—they didn’t have the energy.
What was a survivor doing all the way out here, outside, and at this time of evening, alone?
As Steven got closer, he realized that he recognized the survivor, and, for a moment, thought that he had only convinced himself to see this particular face. Then he realized he hadn’t made it up after all—the figure was indeed his brother.
Once he stopped, he couldn’t leave the APC fast enough.
“Derek? Is that you?” he asked, still in disbelief.
Derek’s face broke into a smile.
“Steven! Can’t say I’m surprised you’re the one to show up. Yeah, it’s me—you don’t recognize me already? It hasn’t been that long.”
For the first time in a long time, Steven felt compelled to wrap his brother in a hug, and he felt his brother return it with equal enthusiasm.
“I can’t believe we made it!” Steven said.
“Well, it’s been quite the journey for me, I can tell you that. But let’s get out of here—tell you all about it on the rest of the drive. I know where you’re headed, and boy, I sure can’t wait to get there.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve got someone waiting there for me that I can’t wait to see again.” Steven expected the quizzical look Derek gave him. “I’ll tell you all about it on the drive, too,” he said with a slight smile.
Derek’s face broke out into a grin. “I think we’re gonna have to start with your story—sounds a lot more…juicy.”
*
Derek could hardly believe it—Steven had managed to swoop in and save Gregory’s wife—a woman he had apparently been in love with for a while. Ha! And Steven had once called him a parasite. How long had his brother been lying in wait on the side like that?Sure, Steven had said that he never intended to act on his feelings, but Derek didn’t believe that for a second. If there was one thing he knew about his brother, it was that he was a go-getter. He didn’t just let someone else have what he wanted.
Still, he listened to his story quietly, affecting a nonjudgmental manner as much as he could.
Steven had mentioned finding Serena alone, and the likelihood of Gregory being dead one way or another, but Derek got the impression that he knew more than he was saying. Still, Derek decided not to push him, and also not to mention what he knew of Gregory himself; after all, it might ruin his chances of getting to safety and getting help, despite what he was about to tell his brother.
Derek couldn’t wait to see Steven’s face when he told him the news. Steven might be a super soldier, but he was the one with a super immune system.
“Now, don’t panic,” Derek began, “because I’m totally fine—I always end up that way. But I’ve been attacked—plus bitten or scratched by them—several times.”
Steven didn’t quite react how he expected. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he said, “Wait, so you’re…”
“I’m immune, brother. Or at least, I’m able to fight off the disease.”
Steven broke out into another rare grin. “So am I! Looks like Dad left us with something after all.”
“How do you know it’s not Mom?” Derek asked, familiar resentment passing through him at his brother’s revelation.
“Well, she’s dead from the disease, remember? So if it’s a genetic thing, we got it from him.”
“Oh, yeah.” Derek tried not to feel stupid. He decided to change the subject. “She’s the one who got me first, you know—Mom. I went over to check on her and Grandma. She was glad to see me and looked kind of crazy—pink eyes and everything. ‘You’ve got to help me,’ she said, and she was holding on to me so tightly, that her nails dug into my arms. I knew I had to get out of there, but I guess it was too late, and she had already passed it on to me.”
“Wow, we must have just missed each other because when I went over, Mom was there feasting on Grandma. They were in Grandma’s room, and it looked like Mom had busted it open. Grandma probably realized what had happened to Mom and locked herself up before she could
get infected. But once Mom totally turned, that was it.”
“Yeah, I remember seeing Grandma’s door closed, come to think of it. Wait, so how and when did you find out your immune status?”
Steven seemed to hesitate. “I guess you haven’t heard, then? I thought it would’ve definitely spread through all the ranks by now.” Derek fought off resentment at having been left out somehow. “Well, you’ll probably be glad to hear it,” Steven continued, “but this whole thing sort of started because of me.”
Confusion and delight ran through Derek all at once. Then Steven filled him in.
“Wow,” Derek said when he was done. “Patient Zero, huh? You really are a legend now.”
“Yeah, but not quite how I imagined. I know it’s not really my fault, but I can’t help feeling some weight of responsibility—I mean, it still came from me.”
“Could have been any of us, brother. You didn’t create it.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
They were silent for a moment.
Then Derek decided to break the silence.
“Man, I figured this place would be a safe place. All this desert—it’ll take a while for the Morphs to cross. And with the security around the compound…”
“Yup, which is why they’ll put you through the ringer once we get there—probably me, too, just to make sure. They can’t take any chances—it’s one of the last safe spots left. They’ve got sharpshooters on it, well-prepared for any external battle, for people—diseased and otherwise—to try to rush their barriers. But one that slips in right under their nose is another thing altogether, and they’re pretty paranoid about that, as you can imagine.”
“But how would that happen? Won’t they shoot bodies—healthy or not—that appear near the perimeters on sight?”
“Right, but you see how we’re about to sort of waltz in? They know me and my status, and they sort of trust anyone I bring in. I brought Serena in and they still checked her out immediately, as expected—they probably quarantined and observed her for a few days to be on the safe side. I’m pretty sure she’s okay—she was healthy when I got her.”
“But how do you know for sure?”
“No one’s asymptomatic—something always gives away the status—whether it’s skin discolorations, eye irregularities, profuse sweating, whatever. They’ll figure out you’re immune like me soon enough, but until then…” His shoulders lifted and fell. “Prepare to feel like a prisoner.”
Derek sighed. “Yeah, I can’t say I blame them; after all, I guess a lot of damage can be done if even one infected person gets in.”
“Can you imagine? Chaos and destruction. They’ll fight hard against it, but once their eyes and ears are exposed, and the disease reaches anyone involved in security, the borders are no longer protected. And something tells me the Morphs would know. The place would get overwhelmed in no time. The diseased pretty much become giant, living, breathing viruses themselves; they’re programmed to spread.”
Derek decided to keep silent.
If anyone could help him, these people could. And if they couldn’t, well, at least he would have the satisfaction of seeing Steven the Great blamed for bringing him right into their midst.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ‘SAFETY’
“They sure know how to make a guy feel nonhuman here,” Derek said as he entered the holding room, the door closing with finality behind him.
“Tell me about it. Look, we match!” Serena replied, pointing to their hospital gowns before heading toward him and giving him a light hug.
“Long time no see, Derek. Hey, where’s Steven?” she asked, looking behind him.
“They’re holding him for some reason or other—he’ll be here pretty soon, no doubt. He couldn’t stop blabbing about how much he wanted to see you. I hear you guys are pretty tight these days.”
Serena smiled. “Something like that,” she said, looking sideways. Then she looked up at him. “So how did you make it out? What’s the deal? I need stories!”
“Turns out Steven and I share an advantage. I wouldn’t have made it here otherwise, but it seems that I’ve got a resistance to the disease. Like Steven. Still, I’ve been here thirty-six hours, isolated, while they made sure. And now I guess I get to wait here with you. What do you do in here anyway?”
Serena shook her head, looking slightly frustrated. “Not a damned thing. Worst survivor playroom ever.” She smiled at him, and he realized that she was joking. “But seriously, they don’t really know what to do with me. I get some food and water shoved in here and there.”
“Yeah, this place is definitely giving me prison vibes. But a whole lot better than out there, I guess. Or even in some other place those things could break down eventually. I’ll take the tradeoff.”
“Are you kidding me? Feel like I’m behind bars or fight folks off to keep my face and guts. Hmm…let me think…Speaking of thinking—that’s all I do here. And remember what life was like before. Not fun, I tell ya. I did get someone to bring me a book at some point. Read it twice already. But yeah, that’s pretty much it. No one’s exactly social right now, so I just end up thinking a lot about what life must be like out there for some survivors.”
“And at other times, I bet you’re lost in thoughts about my brother.” Derek fluttered his eyelashes, smiling goofily.
Serena playfully swatted him. “Stop, you. Yeah, we just…you know, there won’t be a whole lot of us left when this is over.”
“Are you saying you didn’t have a choice? That Steven’s some kind of last resort?”
“Of course not. I’m just—I think a lot about the future.” She put her hand on her stomach, and then quickly removed it—a move that Derek did not miss. “They haven’t figured out what to do with the survivors in their forts just yet. Who knows how long it’ll take to figure it all out? Who knows how long we could be here? I don’t know what to do with myself. There’s no work to get up for, no alarms to be set. There’s no going to the movies or the gym, or picking up the phone to call…anyone. No going for a run or window-shopping, or treating myself to sushi…it’s just so weird. Obviously, I’m happy to be alive and safe here. It’s just…I can’t stop thinking about what all of this means—what the world’s going to look like when we finally get let out again. What it’s going to take to clean up or get things structured and civilized again. And how long can we really stand even being here with each other? I know that the food supplies are okay now, but they probably won’t be in a few weeks. Do we just keep sending guys like you and Steven out to get it for us? How long before you don’t come back?”
Serena’s voice broke with her last question.
Derek felt compelled to rub her shoulder lightly, briefly. “The important thing is that we have a chance now,” he said softly. “Everything else we’ll figure out eventually, don’t you worry. I mean, come on—my brother’s on the case for crying out loud.”
*
What was taking Steven so long? What were they doing to him?
Serena couldn’t think of anything else, knowing that Steven was so close and she hadn’t been able to see him.
Had something gone wrong this time? Derek would have mentioned it, wouldn’t he?
Serena looked over at Derek lying on the ground near a corner of the room. He had been over there a while, napping.
The trek to the compound must have been quite harrowing. She couldn’t imagine trying to make it here all by herself.
Derek had told her all about having to leave his mom behind, and about taking various cars to make the journey, and finally, getting lucky enough to run into Steven near the end.
She had wanted to hear more about the journey, but he said that he had a headache and had to lie down.
She wondered if she should get someone’s attention, and have them bring something for Derek to help with his headache. Then again, who had time to worry about someone’s need for aspirin? She figured one of the blue suits would tell him to do exactly what he was doing right now.
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How ‘bout you sleep it off while we take care of some more important business? she imagined one of them saying.
Even though Derek was out cold at the moment, she was glad to finally have some company.
When Derek got up, she would make him tell her more details of what things had been like on the outside—that is, if Steven didn’t come to her first, which she hoped and hoped would happen.
She had missed him so much that it had almost made her ill. Besides, the whole time he was gone, she had been worried sick about him—too many ‘what if’ scenarios played out in her head.
Serena suddenly caught a slight stirring out of the corner of her eye, and she realized that Derek was about to either change position or get up.
He raised to a sitting position.
“Derek!” she said happily, joyful for a break in her thoughts. Then she noticed something odd. “Derek?” she asked as he stood slowly. “Derek, are you all right? Your eyes…you seem to be sweating a lot. Should I get someone in here?” Something was definitely wrong, and she knew that she was in trouble.
Serena tried to edge toward the doors, even though she had never been able to open it from the inside.
