The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire

by Scottie, Charles

  Loath to admit out loud how inexperienced she really was, Natalie simply nodded her head to confirm that she was there to help. The doctor, who appeared to have a pair of goggles adhered firmly to her head, nearly yelled in triumph at the news. Natalie wasn’t able to read her face, as most of it was obscured by a ragged bandana, but it was obvious she was immensely pleased. Her stomach tied another knot. Ahh, lady. I’m gonna have some bad news for you…

  With almost violent enthusiasm, the doctor removed Natalie’s gear and motioned for her to follow her around the ward. Without turning to see if Natalie had indeed fallen in line, she began to rattle off line after line of medical jargon, her hands gesturing wildly as they passed from bed to bed. In the span of what had felt like a single heartbeat, Natalie had completely lost track of what was happening. The only thought she was able to focus on was a sudden and profound new respect for nurses.

  “Any questions?” Apparently satisfied that she had given an adequate introduction to Natalie’s new duties, the doctor had spun about to address her directly. What followed was a brief moment of dull eye contact, as Natalie tried to think of something, anything, that she might be able to say. She did not succeed, and the look of hopeful enthusiasm in the doctor’s eye dimmed.

  “You didn’t understand a word of what I just said, did you.” Though the words came as a question, Natalie knew that there was no uncertainty here. She was out of her element, and she suspected even the half-awake patients knew it, too. After shaking her head and attempting what Natalie could only assume were deep-breathing exercises, her potential new employer shrugged half-heartedly.

  “Start over, then. I’m Doctor Mejhit, and if your papers were correct, you’re Natalie Peterstone. Now we know our names, tell me what you can do.” Natalie nearly winced at her last name being recorded incorrectly, but decided not to bother fixing the mistake. Things were already unraveling pretty quickly without adding more fodder to the flames.

  “I know CPR and I took a First Aid course.” She paused, remembering what Marco had said to her the other day. “And I’ve put down a couple of walkers. Dealt with more, but killed at least two.”

  Natalie was glad she chose to add the second half of her credentials. The doctor had clearly lost interest initially, but as she mentioned having handled the undead before, the flicker of hope rekindled.

  “You’re saying you have been close to them? More importantly, that you kept your cool long enough to deal with them?” There was an unsettling look on the doctor’s face, though Natalie was unable to puzzle it out before she continued speaking.

  “That’s something I can actually work with. Come here.” Mejhit made no effort to explain herself as she walked away, and Natalie didn’t ask questions. As wary as she was of Mejhit’s sudden change in attitude, she was willing to take any opportunity she could to do something useful.

  As Natalie was led through conjoining tents, she began to realize that while it was obvious the medical teams were grossly understaffed, they did have more members working than she had initially believed. Many glanced up from their duties as she passed, their eyes darkening as they seemed to realize where Natalie was being taken.

  Before long the air was filled with the stench of the deeply ill; those cases that had proved so desperate or terminal that their fate had already been decided. Mejhit, now seeming remarkably cold, wrenched aside a set of ragged drapes to reveal a recently-turned patient strapped into their stretcher. The job was done so efficiently that, even as the beast attempted to thrash in its bindings, it appeared frozen in place.

  “Deal with him.” Mejhit’s tone came off as almost bored, but Natalie wasted no time. There was a knife on a nearby table, the red flecked over its cold edge suggesting that this was exactly its purpose. Palming the blade and approaching her target, Natalie felt deeply calm.

  It had been a long time since she had been able to approach a zombie on her own terms, and she found herself experiencing a curious form of clinical detachment.

  Mejhit had said this was a male, but as usual, it was nearly impossible to tell by face alone. Where the straps crossed over its body, the flesh had been peeled away to reveal the muscle and bone beneath. A far off portion of her mind was reminded of stripping the skin from chicken before dinner, and she fought down a sudden urge to vomit.

  Instead, she tried to focus on her short time with BJ and the others. She had to kill the ghoul, but how she did it was the real test. Trying to go through the skull would just dull the blade and risk losing control of her cut. The eye sockets would work, probably, but it felt messy. A small and bitter smile tugged at her lips as she pondered the necessity for keeping the murder of another human being “tidy,” but it didn’t last.

  This was not a human being any longer, and she was not committing murder. This was a mercy, if anything. Forcing herself to stiffen her resolve, Natalie realized she wasn’t certain if she truly believed that. In the end, she knew that it didn’t really matter; she had a job to do, and she would see it through to its finish no matter what.

  Rather than allowing herself to contemplate the true morality of her actions, Natalie opted to instead refocus on how best to perform her execution, the grim implications of her casual approach to violence being shoved aside as she examined her options once again. The knife lacked efficiency, a thought that only chilled Natalie’s stomach for a second before being replaced with a deluge of murderous alternatives.

  If all I have to do is wreck the brain, then I could do something small and neat. But… Natalie’s eyes roamed the zombie’s face as it tried to wriggle free of its bonds, its breath coming in heaving gasps as it continued with its attempts to escape from captivity.

  She had already ruled out going through the eyes, and she couldn’t just sever the brain stem at the back of the skull without allowing the creature the ability to move its head, an option that presented unnecessary risks. She could drive the weapon down through its mouth or throat, but that presented the possibility of either spraying contaminants or damaging the equipment that held the walker. A moment later, Natalie was struck by morbid inspiration.

  “Knife is sloppy. I need something long and thin, like a screwdriver.” Natalie was almost surprised at her own voice, though Mejhit didn’t seem to notice as she stepped away to find a suitable tool.

  Natalie was not accustomed to being this calculating, especially in regards to such a gruesome task, but her position of power over the undead was exciting. Once again, she felt as though her sudden change of character should be worrisome, but she had no time to consider it further as the doctor returned with remarkable quickness, a toolkit in her hands.

  Though Natalie couldn’t deny that Mejhit had done exactly as she had asked, she couldn’t help but wonder why the good doctor had a set of tools lying around so casually within reach in the middle of a medical ward. Natalie cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, but Mejhit’s face remained perfectly neutral. Answers would wait, it seemed.

  Popping the latches on the kit, Natalie found what she was looking for in the form of a screwdriver with a rod nearly six inches long, resting neatly alongside a hammer. Natalie removed both without a word, and with no further deliberation, she set the driver’s tip to the zombie’s ear with one hand and swung down hard with her hammer in the other.

  The metal slid into the ghoul’s skull and through its ear canal with a remarkable smoothness, punching through the eardrum and into its brain with ease. Not satisfied that the job was through, Natalie gave the screwdriver another hard slam with the hammer, and then another, until it was wedged tightly inside the creature’s head.

  Giving the monster another look-over, it was obvious that Natalie’s work was done; it was dead. Everything had gone according to plan, until she made the mistake of wrenching the screwdriver from the corpse’s skull. A slick, rancid slime belched from the wound with a nauseating gurgle, and Natalie stumbled away from the body to avoid the sudden stench. Try as she might, she couldn’t resist the urge to dr
y-heave, and a moment later she was vomiting across the floors.

  Weakly, she laughed aloud. She had made progress when it came to dealing with these nightmares, but she had a long way to go before she was accustomed to the assault on the senses that they posed. Natalie felt the cool touch of a wet cloth at her cheek, and glanced up to see Dr. Mejhit offering her a rag to clean up. The expression on her face seemed to be a cross between concern and satisfaction.

  “You almost had it, until the end there. Still, not bad. Good, actually. Very good. Think you could do that again?” Natalie was unsure of if she was pleased that she had managed to impress after all, or sick at the prospect of having to do all of this over again. Feeling ill, she tried to fix Mejhit with a pointed stare.

  “I can, yeah. I kind of hope I’m going to be doing more than butchering your leftovers, though.” It was a crude way of referring to the work that she had done, and certainly a dehumanizing view, but it was true. Natalie wasn’t in the mood to waste time on sugarcoating the situation, and while Mejhit did momentarily look surprised, she made no attempt to berate Natalie. It appeared they had an understanding of sorts.

  “If you want more responsibilities, you’re going to need to learn how to handle them. I don’t mind taking care of that, on two conditions.” Whatever respite Natalie had been taking to recover from her nausea was cut short as Mejhit began to move once more, wheeling the stretcher that held Natalie’s newest kill over to a nearby table.

  “First condition: you have to keep up. If you slow me, or any of my staff, you’re out of here.” Natalie moved to give her consent, but she was cut off by Mejhit, who had already finished unlatching nearly all of the straps that had held the walker down.

  As usual, Natalie was simultaneously impressed and concerned at the practiced ease with which these grim tasks were carried out. How many bodies had come through here before Natalie arrived in camp?

  “Second condition: you do what you’re told, no complaints. You’re still going to be our resident ‘butcher,’ as you put it, because that’s work that needs doing and you’re able to handle it without passing out or having a breakdown.” For the briefest instant, Natalie thought she saw Mejhit ‘s eyes glance at the puddle of sick that Natalie had left behind, but she returned to her work immediately. She grabbed the torso, and without prompt Natalie grabbed the legs, both helping to hoist the corpse onto the workbench.

  Again, Natalie attempted to speak only to be silenced by the older woman. A deep frown began to form on her face, though she continued to assist where she could. The table had already been draped with a black bag, and it was obvious that the goal was to seal the zombie’s body inside. After a few moments of adjustment, the work was done and Mejhit had returned her attention solely to Natalie.

  “Listen to me now. I don’t need your consent. I don’t care about your agreement to the job. You either do it or you don’t, and if you don’t, you leave. It’s that simple. We don’t take breaks and we get paid garbage in rations and gear, there’s no such thing as a day off, and you’re probably never going to get an ounce of appreciation even once in this thankless shithole, but that’s what we do.” Jerking her chin over her shoulder toward some unknown destination, Mejhit began to lift the body from the table.

  Natalie’s frown had shifted into a bitter smile, doing her best to imagine a world where people in positions of authority weren’t also hardasses. It just wouldn’t be the same.

  Following Mejhit’s lead, Natalie picked up the other side of the body bag and set it back in the stretcher, the doctor continuing to talk even as she pushed the corpse along. Wherever they were headed, it didn’t appear to be a well-populated area. Even after a few minutes of moving, Natalie had yet to see another worker, or even another body.

  In fact, the only suggestion that this place was ever in use was the obvious care that had gone into maintaining its cleanliness. Natalie chose to take that as a good sign, that perhaps they had been suffering fewer fatalities lately and so had less need for this much room.

  After all, it had been some time since the initial outbreak; it wasn’t unreasonable to believe that the camp had been making at least some progress with how to deal with this disaster. Gleaning what she could from the doctor’s orders, it certainly appeared as if they had found a rhythm in their work, even if they were shorthanded.

  Eventually they found themselves backed against what appeared to be some kind of loading area, complete with heavily reinforced bins already loaded into the back of a massive truck. As Mejhit brought the stretcher alongside one such bin, Natalie noted the sheen of frost across its lid. This was where the body was being taken, and that realization swept away her earlier hopes that things had been improving.

  Outwardly, Natalie continued to assist in loading the corpse into its icebox without expression, but inside her concern was mounting. The box they were opening now was at the front of the truck, but behind it was easily a dozen more. Already inside their bin were five other bags, stacked two wide and three high, and it looked as if each box could accommodate six total guests. Clutching at the weak hope that it might not be as bad as she thought, Natalie turned to the doctor the moment the corpse was loaded.

  “What exactly are we doing here? I mean, obviously we’re taking care of the body, but why the truck? Why all the boxes?” Natalie was pleased that her tone continued to come out even and cool, in spite of her nerves. Being able to fake casual sanity was a talent she suspected she was going to need, if things continued the way they had been.

  “Research, or so we’re told. The center camp, beyond the inner ring, has a separate medical facility that performs its own duties. One of those duties is hunting for the way to finish this outbreak once and for all, and to do that, they need specimen. We usually need to deliver once a day.” Mejhit nodded her head at the body-filled truck, leaving no wonder to what she meant. If she was right, that meant they were hauling nearly a hundred corpses out of this building daily. Things have not improved. Christ, things have not improved at all.

  “Which reminds me. Every once in awhile, we’ll get orders to ‘prepare’ the bodies in certain fashions. Most of the time, that means severing the brainstem at the base of the skull, to try and keep the brain as intact as possible. Other times, they get a little more creative with their requests. That’s what the toolkit is for. Don’t bother asking questions; I don’t know the answer and they won’t say. Just do as you’re told.” Natalie had to take a moment to digest that, suddenly unsure of what bothered her more: the number of deaths or the seeming normality of being asked to mutilate corpses for research.

  “But… what about their families? I know some people are probably fine with doing what they can to help end all of this, but there’s gotta be folks out there who want a proper burial for their loved ones.” Or who have a serious problem with somebody taking a hammer to mommy for science.

  Mejhit’s shoulders slumped as Natalie spoke, and she removed her mouth wrap and goggles with a sigh. For the first time, Natalie was able to see how worn the doctor truly looked. Her face was littered with premature wrinkles, a clear sign of a stressful life; if the bags under her eyes were a tell, Mejhit probably hadn’t gotten a decent night’s rest in quite some time, either.

  “Natalie, think about it. You seem like a bright enough girl. How much do you think those people really care? About us, and our complaints? Surely you noticed the guards, always present and ready to put us down like dogs. Or the supplies?” That drew a wry laugh from Mejhit, though it was hollow and made Natalie shiver.

  “We haven’t gotten actual gear once since all of this started. Anything and everything that could be of use goes right through the inner gates and to the VIP section. You saw my staff; we don’t even have the basics. No, they gave us a wall to hide behind and the promise that they’re toiling away to return all of our lives to normal. As far as they’re concerned, they did their part. They’re heroes, and anybody who wants anything more can go fuck themselves.” Mejhit too
k careful care to enunciate every last word of her rant, the fatigue that had plagued her a moment before now replaced with frustration.

  Natalie couldn’t say she disagreed with the doctor’s emotions. She’d had no idea that there were separate medical wings for the inner and outer rings of the camp, but that went a long way toward explaining why this place had looked as ramshackle as it did.

  “Don’t they let people in to the center ring, though? Marco mentioned something about people getting their assignments being able to move through.” Natalie realized that Mejhit would likely have no idea who she was talking about, until she noticed the look of amusement on her face.

  “Marco Mercado, BJ’s loudmouth? He told you that?” Mejhit chuckled dryly, more from exasperation than mirth. “If you’ve met the man then I don’t think it should come as a surprise that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Nobody gets brought inside unless they have connections. End of story.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Natalie that Marco might have been wrong. More intriguing was that Mejhit had not only known who Marco was, but was seemingly familiar with the whole band. For being just a simple search-and-rescue team, BJ’s gang was strangely well known. She had even known more about them than Natalie had, which had been unexpected.

  Mercado, huh? I should probably try and remember that, for reference if nothing else. Natalie had been surprised at learning Marco’s last name, more because she could have sworn it was something she already knew than anything else. After a few days of traveling together, it seemed like information she would have picked up on. I guess when you’re skulking around trying not to get slaughtered, going beyond more than a first-name basis just doesn’t seem that important.

  Another thought came to Natalie as Mejhit donned her protective gear once again. She had said that nobody was let through into the inner ring, but if that were true, there were countless other people that weren’t accounted for. As packed as the outer ring was, it was only a small fragment of the population that should have been present; the city had been densely packed before the outbreak hit. Natalie grimaced at how high the death toll must truly be.