Megan was caught off guard as he did the opposite of what she had expected. She gave his hand a tentative shake.
Hines’s gaze moved past her and settled onto Jack. “And that must be our infected man.”
“That’s Jack,” Megan said. “And he’s not infected.”
Jack gave a weak wave.
“Jack,” Hines repeated. He raised an eyebrow at Luke. “Who’s the kid?”
Megan smiled. “That’s Luke. Luke Franklin.”
“Any relation?”
“No,” Megan said with a shake of her head. “His parents were traveling with us…”
The hard lines at the edges of Hines’s mouth softened. He gave Megan a thoughtful look, then stepped aside and motioned the other man forward. “This is Doctor Cain. He’s going to take a look at Jack.”
Megan crossed her arms over her chest as she addressed the other man. “What kind of doctor are you?”
Hines opened his mouth as if to say something, but Dr. Cain stopped him with a touch on his elbow. “It’s okay, Marlon. It’s a fair question.” He set his bag at his feet. “I was an oncologist back in the real world. I had a practice in Austin. I had just started out before… well, you know.”
Megan studied the doctor’s face. He appeared young, somewhere in his mid-to-late thirties, with thinning blond hair and a slight stoop. She could picture him before the world ended, a little overweight, hair a little neater, with a nice tan from the tennis club. She liked him, liked that he had survived even though he looked soft. “Okay,” she said, stepping aside. “Do whatever you need to do.”
Dr. Cain picked up his bag and went to Jack. Meanwhile, Luke moved from his seat and came to Megan’s side, pressing himself to her as if he were afraid to be alone.
Dr. Cain put his fingers to Jack’s forehead, then looked up at Chris. “I thought you said this man was sick.”
Chris shrugged. “He looked like he had a fever earlier.”
“Hmm,” Dr. Cain said as he looked into Jack’s eyes and probed at his neck. He turned and called out to Hines, “Is it okay if I cut this arm loose? I need to get a closer look.”
Hines grunted his assent.
From his pocket, Dr. Cain withdrew a red metal utility knife. He flipped it open and deftly sliced away the duct tape binding Jack’s damaged appendage. “Let me know if this hurts,” he said.
Jack grimaced. “Oh, don’t worry about that.”
Dr. Cain put his nose to Jack’s stump and inhaled deeply. His nose wrinkled, but his expression remained inscrutable. Taking care not to press too hard on the wound, he unwrapped the damp, crusty bandage, exposing the charred flesh beneath. He raised Jack’s arm and inspected it from every angle imaginable, gently probing the crackly black flesh with his fingertips.
Jack winced with each touch, but didn’t cry out.
After a few minutes of watching the examination, Megan was about to jump out of her skin. “Well? What do you think?”
Dr. Cain ignored her and took a tool from his bag. Megan recognized it, but didn’t know what it was called, only that she thought it was used to look inside the eye. She was right. Dr. Cain peeled back Jack’s left eyelid and shone a light directly at the eyeball. He stared through the eyepiece of the tool, yet still made no comment.
After checking Jack’s other eye, the doctor turned off the gadget and returned it to his bag. With a tired sigh, he stood and turned to address the entire cabin. His eyes, however, were glued to Hines. “I wouldn’t have believed this if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I don’t see any trace of infection. None at all. The wound on Jack’s arm appears typical for an emergency amputation which, if I may say, was quite a brave feat.” He waved a hand at Jack. “The coloration of his eyes is normal, with no evidence of ruptured or distended retinal blood we normally see with the infected. His pulse and respiration rates are also within normal ranges.”
“So I’m going to be okay?” Jack asked.
Dr. Cain took a deep breath and hesitated, as if weighing his words. “Maybe. Probably. If your condition doesn’t get worse in the next twenty-four hours, I’d venture to say you’re going to be just fine.”
Jack sagged into his seat.
Megan grabbed the doctor and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. “Thank you! Thank you!”
Dr. Cain brushed off the compliment and extracted himself from her embrace. A red flush of embarrassment filled his gaunt cheeks.
“Is that it?” Hines asked.
Dr. Cain picked up his bag. “I suggest we keep him in isolation overnight to make sure, but after that, I see no reason to treat him any differently than the rest of us.”
Those were the words Megan had been waiting for. The room swam in her vision. “I… I need to sit,” she said, reaching out for support.
Luke rushed to her side and guided her to the bench next to Jack.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “I don’t know what came over me.”
She leaned against Jack, reveling in the feel of his body against hers.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” the doctor said. “Jack’s wound looks okay, but I still need to check the rest of his body. Then I need to check both you and the boy as well.”
Megan smiled and nodded. She didn’t care if the doctor strapped her onto a gurney and conducted an impromptu pelvic exam. Jack was safe. He was going to live. “Whatever. Do whatever you need to do.”
Dr. Cain was quick and methodical with his inspection, and five minutes later, he was done. With a promise to check in on Jack once he had dealt with the other patients in his infirmary, he pulled open the door and disappeared into the storm.
Once he was gone, Hines motioned at Chris. “Let’s see about getting these people squared away for the night? Put Mr. Wolfe in his own berth and post two guards until morning.”
“Will do,” Chris said.
Hines addressed Megan. “And you, Ms. Pritchard. I still don’t approve of your tactics, but it’s late, and I trust Doctor Cain’s opinion. I’ve got a storm to deal with right now, and I’m sure you want to get some rest.”
Megan struggled to her feet and approached Hines. She wiped away tears of joy. “I… I don’t know what to say…”
Hines gave her a half-frown, half-smile. “Don’t.” His gaze darted to Chris and then back. “For now, consider yourselves guests on the Gulf Star. We’ll sort out the details in the morning.”
Megan sniffled. “Okay.”
With a curt nod, Hines pulled the door open and was gone.
Thirty-Six
Gulf Star Oil Platform
Gulf of Mexico
Dawn
Sleep, when it finally came, arrived like an old lover, wrapping Megan in its velvet embrace and whispering everything would be as it was before. Like a small child, she had railed against the inevitable for as long as her body would allow, holding out until she was sure Jack and Luke were safely ensconced in their rooms, that their doors were locked tight against the outside world, and that neither human nor monster could reach them in her absence. Only then did she allow herself to ride the wave into oblivion.
She awoke to the smell of breakfast: eggs, bread, fresh coffee, even bacon, if she could believe her nose. The scents dragged her from her slumber and into the dim light of a new day.
An electric shock of panic raced through her when she groped for her pistol and her fingers closed on empty air. She opened her eyes and sat up, her body tensing for fight or flight.
She spied her pistol tucked securely in its holster and hanging on the back of a chair across the room. Her battered cowboy hat hung from a peg near the door. She couldn’t remember putting it there. Her last memory was of hugging Luke goodnight in the doorway of his room. After that, everything was blank. She tried to recall if she had told Chris or Hines about the people in Tampa, the pilot, the journal, or Scorpion Canyon. She couldn’t remember.
Lifting a freshly laundered sheet from her body, she saw she was wearing only a pair of dingy yellow p
anties, the same pair she had pulled on the last morning in Scorpion Canyon so long ago. The rest of her clothes formed a trail from the edge of the bed across the room to the door.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Just a second.” She got up and, not wanting to put on her dirty, damp clothes, wrapped herself in the gray fleece blanket from the end of the bed. She crossed to the door. Brushing the hair from her eyes, she turned the knob and pulled the door open a crack.
When she saw Chris, she opened the door wider.
“Oh. Sorry,” Chris said, averting his eyes at Megan’s partially clothed state.
Megan pulled the blanket tighter, drawing it over her shoulders. “It’s okay. What’s going on?”
Chris shifted on his feet. “I wanted to let you know Jack is awake.”
Megan tensed. Something in the tone of his voice told her the news was not all good.
“And?”
“And his fever returned while you were sleeping.”
Megan’s vision narrowed to a point around Chris’s mouth, and she watched, yet didn’t hear as he spoke, describing the events of the past several hours.
“… but he’s okay,” Chris said finally, the words punching through her fugue and yanking her back into the present. “The doc was able to get it under control. He says it’s only an infection—a regular infection. Nothing to worry about. He put him on an intravenous antibiotic drip.”
Inside Megan, a dam burst. All the anxiety accumulated since Tucson rushed from her at once, leaving in its wake a hollow void. The blanket slid from her shoulders and would have fallen to the floor if not for Chris’s quick reflexes.
He offered her a hand to steady herself, and she took it.
“He sure gave Dr. Cain a scare, though,” Chris added with a nervous laugh.
“Can I see him? Can I see him now?”
Chris smiled. “Of course. He’s right down the hall.”
Megan barged past Chris and raced into the hall. She spotted a pair of young men standing beside an open room two doors down. Guards. Jack! She set off at a sprint.
***
Jack was sitting up in his bed, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth when Megan burst into his room. An IV line snaked from his good arm to a bottle suspended from a gleaming metal rack beside the bed. A stack of silent and dark machines sat on a cart in a nearby corner.
Luke sat in a dingy plastic chair next to the bed. When he saw her, his eyes lit up, and he sprang from the chair and dashed across the room. He wrapped his arms around her midsection and buried his face in her shoulder.
“Luke!” Megan shrieked in delight. She snaked an arm out from under her blanket and patted his back. Over his head, she saw Jack put down his fork and push his plate away.
“I wanted to wake you up, but Jack said no,” Luke said as he pulled away. “He said you needed to sleep.” He glanced over his shoulder as if seeking confirmation, and Jack gave him a nod.
“I told you,” Jack said with an easy smile. “Just give her time and she’ll come when she’s ready.”
Megan ruffled Luke’s hair and took him gently by the elbow, guiding him toward the bed.
“Hey there,” she said when she reached Jack’s side. She bent over and kissed him on the mouth. He tasted of eggs and sweat and something she couldn’t quite place.
Jack grinned up at her. His hand found hers. “Hey, you,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they always did when he was happy. “We made it.”
“We did,” Megan responded, her voice catching in her throat. Her thoughts turned to all the people they had left behind: the Archies and the Ryans of the world, the people who had given their lives so that she, Jack, and Luke could live another day.
Jack’s fingers intertwined with hers. “We’re going to be okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “We’ll start over here.”
Megan nodded. She wanted with all her heart to believe him, but deep down, she knew it would never be over, not in her lifetime. There was still Tampa, and if Tampa and the Gulf Star were any indication, isolated pockets of survivors still existed in isolated pockets across the globe. No matter what happened, Megan knew she would never be able to relax until she did everything in her power to take the world back from the creatures who had stolen it. Only then would she allow herself to believe in a future.
About the Author
William Esmont lives in Southern Arizona with his wife and a motley collection of pets.
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Table of Contents
Elements of the Undead - Omnibus Edition (Books One - Three)
Midpoint
About the Author
Elements of the Undead - Omnibus Edition (Books One - Three) Page 35
