Afternoon (The Daylight Cycle Book 3)

by Kody Boye

  Jamie stopped.

  Dakota froze.

  What, he thought. Is this—

  A dream? No. It couldn’t be. He could feel the chill, taste the air, sense upon his face the dried tears and on his chest the sweat from sleeping close to an emotional man. If this were a dream, then surely he would wake up right now, wouldn’t he?

  Dakota threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood just in time to see what had stopped Jamie in his tracks.

  Erik’s eyes—once a fine shade of blue—were now covered with a haze of white.

  “What… happened?” Dakota asked.

  “Doctor Hernandez gave me an experimental treatment that would prolong my life,” Erik said, turning his head to acknowledge Rose, Steve, Donovan and the other people in the room as they began to rise at the sound of the commotion. “She stated that she injected blood from a plant walker into my body in order to try and counteract the deterioration.

  “What?” Jamie asked. “I thought—”

  Flashes of memory appeared over Dakota’s eyes.

  Jessiah.

  The mare.

  The dog.

  The birds in the air.

  The slow-running water on the farm in Minnesota which had contained within its body the disease that had transmitted the infection to a small and lonely family.

  In looking at Erik—in seeing his glazed eyes, his smiling face and his overall demeanor—Dakota felt shellshocked at the reality of it all.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Doctor Rosalita Hernandez said, stepping up from behind Erik and placing a hand on his upper arm. “I’d like to introduce you to the first person who has survived the plague.”

  The room burst into applause.

  Dakota and Jamie—still stunned from the reality of the situation—merely stared.

  “Now then” Doctor Hernandez said as the applause began to die and the whoops and whistles ceased to exist. “I’d like to proceed with the second stage of my experiment.”

  “Which is?” Jamie asked.

  “Releasing me into the wild,” Erik answered, “and seeing how the zombies respond to me.”

  They stood on the second floor on the western side of the university and waited while the armed men prepared to open the doors below.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jamie said, crossing his arms over his chest as they looked on at the outside world.

  “If my hypothesis is correct,” the doctor said, “then the infected shouldn’t even bother him.”

  “What did you say you injected into him?” Jamie asked again, as if wanting the doctor to reassert Erik’s earlier statement in her own professional narrative.

  “I injected the blood of what we call a plant walker into his system. It acts as a deterrent to the virus because it keeps it from attacking healthy immune system cells. Think of antiretrovirals and HIV—they coat the protector cells and keep the virus from lowering your CD4 counts.”

  “Which means it keeps you from being infected,” Rose said.

  “In theory,” she said. “Erik is the first patient I’ve had the chance to test this on.”

  That’s reassuring, Dakota thought, but only nodded as Steve shuffled beside him.

  “What if he gets attacked?” Jamie asked.

  “That’s highly unlikely,” the doctor replied. “Given that he’s already begun to take on physical characteristics of the creatures, there’s a chance they won’t even respond to him once he steps outside.”

  Whether they would or not would be determined soon, as in the distance a lone corpse wandered, shambling to and fro through the snow.

  Below them, the double doors opened and out stepped Erik—calm, complacent, and seemingly unafraid of the world around him. He stared headlong as the corpse and started forward before the men behind him could even close the doors.

  “Hey!” Erik cried. “Hey!”

  The corpse startled, jerking its head in response to the noise, but looked right through Erik—almost as if he wasn’t there.

  “The CIFR-infected did not respond to the CIFR-Modified patient’s stimuli,” the doctor said, her assistant dictating as she spoke. “Audible presences are noted, but seemingly ignored, and visual contact is obtained but not processed as a food source.”

  “Could he have not been close enough?” the assistant, Lydia, asked.

  “Possibly, but we have proven time and again that CIFR patients respond to non-infected immediately, regardless of proximity or perceived threat.”

  “Which means he’s one of them,” Steve said. “Or at least being viewed as one of them.”

  Doctor Hernandez reached down to lift the walkie-talkie from her waist. “Come in, Mr. Roberts. Over.”

  “Roberts. Over.”

  “Can you give me a visual confirmation on the state of the corpse? Over.”

  “She’s decayed almost beyond comprehension. I can see her teeth through holes in her mouth and her eyes are almost completely destroyed. Over.”

  “But she does acknowledge your presence? Visually? Audibly? Over.”

  “Yes. Over.”

  “Can you attempt to move closer? Over.”

  Erik did as asked, lowering the walkie-talkie at his side and taking several tentative steps toward the creature, who turned and began to amble away. When he came within three feet of them, he lifted the walkie-talkie, said, “I’m going to try something,” then lifted a leg and gave her a hard kick.

  The creature stumbled to the ground, but made no move to turn and retaliate against Erik.

  “Physical aggression from CIFR-Modified patient upon a CIRF-infected is not met with response,” Doctor Hernandez said. “Erik. Would you be willing to walk into the nearby building and see if there are any others around? Over.”

  “I really don’t want to risk walking around with my eyes all like this,” Erik said. “What if I get shot?”

  “You may return to the university and don fresh clothing and sunglasses if you wish. Over and out.”

  It was with that said that Erik turned and began to make his way back to the college.

  They watched, for more than an hour, as Erik navigated the bookstore closest to the college and through a myriad of zombies that were attracted by the sound of his wanderings. He not only interacted near, but pushed, touched, and even killed the infected without so much as causing another to turn and snarl at him.

  “This is the future of our country,” the woman said, acknowledging Erik as he raised a hand and began to walk back toward the university.

  “He’s essentially a super soldier,” Steve added.

  “Exactly. Which is why we need to run further tests to see how we can control the present variables.”

  “Further tests?” Jamie frowned. “What do you mean? What more can you do?”

  “We can draw more of them into a flock, make him wander amongst a large group, see if his movements or vocal patterns are enough to trigger a response atypical to what we’ve witnessed so far.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Rose said, glancing out the window as the doors opened to let Erik inside. “We might end trapping ourselves in here if we pull too many.”

  “Mr. Roberts would be able to eliminate any potential threats.”

  “Maybe from the typical CIFRs, but not from the infected animals.”

  “Ah, yes,” the doctor sighed. “That… presents a whole other issue.”

  “We had a dog follow us on the way into the city,” Jamie said, nodding as he began to make his way toward the threshold where Erik would soon reappear. “It didn’t attack us, but we met someone whose son was attacked by his horse after it contracted the modified virus.”

  “The ones that infect and turn the animals,” Doctor Hernandez nodded. “It, surprisingly, didn’t cross as quickly as I thought it might, but now that there are fewer humans present, some of the zombies are adapting and turning to the local fauna population for food.”

  “You think that’s why the dog was turned?�
��

  “The wild dog packs would be the first thing I would worry about if I were to come into contact with anything non-CIFR beyond these walls.”

  Erik appeared a short moment later. Though covered in zombie blood, he was no worse for the wear, and even smiling as he spread his arms and marveled at his appearance. “I touched them,” he said, flexing and then spreading his fingers. “I actually touched them and they just ignored me.”

  “That’s incredibly gross to brag about,” Rose said.

  “But don’t you get it? I can walk among them.”

  “That really is something,” Steve said, taking a few steps forward. “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel ok,” the man said. “Tired after all that walking around, but ok.”

  “We need to get you hooked back up to the monitors anyway,” Doctor Hernandez said. “Lydia—will you make sure Mr. Roberts gets something to eat before we administer continued IV fluids?”

  “Yes ma’am,” the assistant said before leading Erik out of the room and down the hall.

  Doctor Hernndez turned to look at them. “I assure you,” she said, “that I am doing everything within my ability to ensure that he remains healthy and stable.”

  “Do you think he’ll decline?” Jamie asked with a frown.

  “There’s no telling for sure—at least, not now. But in the meantime, we’ll continue to hope for the best.” She smiled and left the room without another word.

  Though Dakota didn’t want to think about it, he wondered what exactly she’d meant when she said that she was ‘doing everything within her ability.’

  Was she not in control of this experiment? And if not, was there a chance it could backfire on them?

  All we need is a zombie on the lose in a safe place, he sighed.

  There was no questioning it any longer.

  They probably weren’t as safe as they thought they were.

  “We need to discuss leaving as soon as possible,” Jamie said.

  There was no denying it. Rosalita, if she had her way, would likely employ them or the other students in her experiments to try to make more CIFR-Modified patients like Erik.

  “I agree,” Rose said after a moment’s hesitation. “We need to leave before this gets any worse.”

  “What about Erik?” Dakota frowned. “I mean, it’s not like we can just escape with her star pupil in the dead of night.”

  “She probably keeps that door locked,” Steve added, settling down atop his chosen cot. “You know, on the off chance he turns in the middle of the night.”

  “Or wants to escape.”

  “He could just walk out the door,” Rose said. “What’s so fucking hard about that?”

  “The IV in his arm,” Dakota said.

  Rose laughed. “He’s a fucking medic,” she said. “He could pull that thing out more efficiently than any of us could.”

  “Probably without leaving blood,” Jamie added, then sat down beside Steve. “I say we try and talk to him tonight—at dinner, possibly, or maybe when one of us could steal a moment with him. Say we’re worried about what might happen if we end up staying here for too long.”

  “She isn’t going to let us go that easy,” Dakota said. “You know that.”

  “I know, but… we have to at least try.”

  “Try what?” a voice asked.

  Everyone jumped.

  Lydia stood in the doorway, watching them with cautious eyes.

  “Try to get Erik to open up to us a little more,” Rose said without missing a beat. “We’re concerned how this change might be affecting him.”

  “That is… understandable,” Lydia said, narrowing her eyes at each of them, but particularly Rose. “If you require anything further—or would like to visit the patient in his room—you can find me in the laboratory down the hall.”

  “Thank you,” Dakota said before Lydia turned and walked away.

  After a few minutes passed, Rose said, “She concerns me.”

  “She’s Doctor Hernandez’ shadow,” Steve laughed. “Of course she does.”

  “If anyone’s going to be a threat, it’s her. Did you see the way she looked at me?”

  “Like she could kill you with her eyes if she could shoot laser beams out of them? Yeah. I saw that.”

  “This just confirms why we need to leave,” Jamie said. “They’ve got his blood, we’ve given them everything they need. Now we should be free to leave.”

  “We should,” Dakota corrected. “Erik, though? That’s up for debate.”

  No one said a word.

  Somewhere, in the distance, Doctor Hernandez and her assistant would be working on the next round of tests.

  Tonight at dinner, they would discuss the next phase of their journey—and how, or when, they would leave.

  Chapter 7

  It was hard to look Erik directly in the eyes. Given their glazed appearance, he appeared as if he were already dead—which, realistically, wasn’t that far of a stretch given what kind of virus ran through his system.

  CIFR, Dakota thought. Complete Immuno-Failure and Spontaneous Reanimation.

  Before him sat not a man, but a hybrid—an individual within whom ran the blood of three different creatures: one living, one dead, and one possibly in-between. So what, he wondered, did that make Erik, other than something inhuman?

  Unable to think about the possibilities at hand, Dakota leaned forward after the last of the civilians and university personnel left the room and said, “We have to talk.”

  “About?” Erik laughed, sampling the bean and egg taco that the cooks had whipped up for that night’s dinner. They’d just been discussing old times and how, back in Guam, he and Jamie used to chase the kids up and down the beach during their days off in order to keep them from driving their poor parents insane.

  “About leaving,” Jamie finally said.

  Erik paled—an action disconcerting considering the fact that his skin had already begun to sallow. “Leave?” he asked. “What do you—”

  Rose wrapped an arm around Erik’s head and placed a hand over his mouth. “Quiet,” she whispered. “We think they might be watching us.”

  “You’re kidding,” Erik said, pulling Rose’s hand away from his mouth. He looked at each of them before saying, “You can’t be serious.”

  “We are,” Dakota said.

  “The doctor’s assistant gave Rose a look that could kill,” Steve added, leaning forward to look at the medically-altered man. “Hernandez also mentioned something about ‘continuing her experiments.’”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She didn’t clarify, but the way she said it was enough to set us all on edge.”

  “They have your blood,” Rose said. “Exactly what we brought you here for. Now we can leave.”

  “Exactly,” Jamie said. “The plan is to pack up tonight and slip out while everyone is sleeping. That way, there’ll be no questions to be asked and no answers that need to be made up and given.”

  “You’re suggesting we risk their security?” Erik frowned. “Jamie… they haven’t even done anything to us.”

  “I know, but—”

  “The doctor saved my life. Like it or not… she helped me.” Erik straightened his posture. “Which is why I think we should stay. At least until I hear out her plan and see what she wants me to do.”

  No one replied.

  The room—once heavy with the atmosphere of friendship—now appeared to hold no oxygen.

  “Erik,” Dakota started.

  “I already made up my mind, Dakota. I’m staying until I find out what she wants me to do.” He paused, glanced at the four of them, and sighed. “I mean… honestly… you still haven’t even contacted Kevin and Desmond. And it’s not like the weather’s particularly good for traveling right now.”

  “We can’t leave them for an extended period of time, though, Erik. That’s the thing.”

  “We’ve been here for three days. I doubt they’re going to starve in a few mor
e.”

  That’s the thing, Dakota thought, but refused to say anything for fear of setting Erik off. You don’t know how long she wants to keep you.

  If Hernandez had it her way, they could be here for days, weeks, maybe even a few months. He dreaded the idea of even staying until spring—when, with the improving weather, they wouldn’t have to worry about snow or any of the ailments that came with it. Added to that was the likelihood that, if they stayed until the weather improved, Kevin and Desmond would have to fend for themselves; and if they had to fend for themselves, how they would fare while doing it.

  You can’t think about that, he thought. You just have to let Erik do what he wants to do.

  If, in the end, Erik chose to remain in Boise, that didn’t mean they had to stay here with him.

  Maybe his place was here, bettering the course and future of humanity.

  As to their place? Dakota wasn’t sure, nor was he sure he wanted to know.

  After the startling revelation, Dakota returned to the room with all the cots and lay down—trying, without success, to fall asleep. Always his thoughts drifted toward Erik—of how he refused to leave and how he felt something more purposeful was at play—and always those thoughts led to Jamie. He knew the man wanted to leave. It was obvious in the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he acted. It was frustrating to be under a regime that was not his to control, and after being their leader for such a long time, being subservient didn’t seem to be within his abilities.

  Still—that didn’t mean they couldn’t remain for the time being. As Erik had said: the weather was not optimal for traveling. And with their vehicle so far out, they would be forced to wander through the elements in order to even begin their return trip back.

  Outside, a fresh snowstorm raged on.

  Somewhere in the near vicinity, Steve was attempting to make contact with Desmond and Kevin.

  Hopefully they’re ok, Dakota thought, then sighed as he pushed himself into an upright position.

  A knock came at the threshold. Shortly thereafter, Donovan Matthews entered the room and greeted him with a smile. “Hello Dakota. How have you been?”