by Bobby Adair
“Yeah, but I still need a solar charger for a computer.”
“Assuming you can get that flash drive from Amber,” said Murphy.
“I need to text her,” I said.
“You’re worried,” Murphy observed.
“Yeah, of course. She said Mark was going nuts.”
“He was already nuts.” Murphy smiled but his eyes betrayed his worry.
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Does the Null Spot want to go back and save her?” he asked.
Fuck your Null Spot, Murphy.
I knew that if I ignored the Null Spot comments long enough, Murphy would give up on them. “I don’t know what we should do about her.”
“Or even if we have any responsibility to her,” he said. “You need to remember, we took them in and helped them. They repaid us by kicking us out.”
“It wasn’t a unanimous decision,” I argued.
“What you don’t seem to be getting here,” he said, “is that we’re different. You can think all of the ‘We Are The World’ thoughts you want, but we aren’t part of that club anymore.”
“Murphy, once things settle down…”
“No,” he stopped me. “Once people get a belief in their heads, it’s damn near impossible to change their minds. Once they decide all of us infected are a danger, they’ll always believe that, no matter what. Fear makes it all worse. Fear cements belief into people’s heads better than anything else. Right now, people are scared, right? As they should be.”
“That’s cynical,” I countered.
Murphy guffawed. “That’s what I like about you. You call me cynical and you don’t see the irony in it.” He laughed some more.
It was time to change the subject. “Do you mind if I ask what happened at your mom’s house? Were they both there?”
Murphy’s face instantly changed. The deep smile lines morphed into a furrowed frown. He didn’t say anything but started to stare at a shadow on floor. His mouth opened to start speaking a few times but nothing came out.
Feeling guilty for having asked, I said, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
It took a little time for Murphy to answer. “There were three infected in my mom’s room. My mom was dead. It was a hard thing to see.”
“Yeah, I’ve been there.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t true. “And your sister, was she in the house?”
Murphy shook his head and refocused on the shadows. “I don’t know if she’s alive or turned infected or what. I’ll probably never know.”
“What about your relatives’ houses?” I asked.
“Anybody I can think of probably got their houses burned down when the fire blew through.”
“Oh. What do you want to do, then?” I asked.
“Sit in this bunker tonight and get some sleep.”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, I mean, after that.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, still staring at the shadows. “I don’t know what to do after that. You got any ideas?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Since this all started, I’ve been mostly just trying to stay alive for the next five minutes. I mean, I keep thinking we need to plan. We need to think through these problems. But everything we plan for keeps falling to shit. We got a place set up in the dorm and got kicked out. We went to your mom’s house…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up again. We stole a Humvee and some fuckers re-stole it. Jerome got shot for no good reason at all, except to teach us both a lesson that might keep us both alive for another day.”
Murphy cut in. “That’s what I’m saying. We need to expect that from the uninfected. Or at least be ready for it.”
I went on, “And now we’re in a bunker that we hoped might be a safe place for us to ride this whole thing out, and it’s a junked out shit hole full of the dead and infected.”
Murphy said, “It did save us from that fire.”
“Yeah.” He had a point about the fire. “Maybe I’m just being a whiny ass.”
I took a long drink out of a bottle of soda and said, “You know all that stuff I keep talking about? We need it. We need to know what to do to survive. The only things you and I really know are the stupid things we’ve seen in movies.”
Murphy shook his head. “I was in the Army.”
“Yeah man, you know I mean besides that.”
“You think too much,” he told me. “You’re still alive. That’s better than I can say for damn near everybody else. So, yeah, you are being a whiny ass. I’d say things have worked out pretty good for you so far.”
I looked around the dark, smelly bunker. “I wouldn’t say pretty good.”
“Well, I sure as hell would.” Murphy sat up straight and looked over at me. “You could be a brain-fried cannibal, but you’re not. Life is gonna be hard now. Get used to bad shit happening. If we want to make it, we need to suck it up and move on.”
“I didn’t realize that you were such an optimist.” It was sarcasm.
“I’m a pragmatist, man,” he said. “I think I’ve got a reasonably safe place to sleep tonight. I know I’ve got a pretty good load of ammo, an M4, and a Glock. I avoided getting barbecued. I’ve got a full belly and enough food and water to get me through breakfast. Hell, by today’s standards, I’m a rich man. If I had some fucked up hair, I’d be the new Donald Trump.” Murphy’s laugh found its way back.
I laughed along, and our laughter disturbed the infected in the lower level. They pushed on the door and it rattled. Too bad for them. It wasn’t going to open.
“Do you want first or second watch?” Murphy asked.
“I’m still on an adrenaline rush,” I said. “I don’t think I can sleep just yet. Besides, I want to check in with Amber and Steph if I can get a signal down here.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’m dead tired. You take the first watch. Wake me when you get sleepy.”
“Will do.”
Murphy made himself comfortable on his pallet and closed his eyes. I checked my phone’s signal strength. One bar.
I texted Amber and hoped for the best.
Me: Amber, it’s Zed. Are you there?
I waited for an answer for a bit and tried again.
Me: Amber?
I wondered whether she was sleeping, and I worried about other possibilities. Thankfully, before I could spin up too many horrible scenarios in my imagination, the phone displayed a response.
Amber: Hey.
Me: Sorry if I woke you.
Amber: I’m guessing there was a delay between your texts but they both arrived at the same time on my end.
Me: Ah. I was getting worried.
Amber: I would say not to, but I guess there’s cause.
Me: Yeah.
Amber: Did you get to Murphy’s mom’s house?
Me: Yes.
Amber: And?
Me: The mom was dead.
Amber: And his sister?
Me: Don’t know.
Amber: Are you guys staying there tonight?
Me: That’s a long story but we’re holed up in some abandoned survivalist’s bunker.
Amber: That sounds promising.
Me: It’s not. It’s pretty much just a hole in the ground right now but at least we’re safe for the night.
Amber: That’s something.
Me: How are things on your end? Did you get a chance to download any of that stuff?
Amber: Grim and yes.
Me: What?
Amber: I downloaded a ton of stuff today. I’ve stayed in my room most of the day doing that. I’ve got it on my flash drive.
Me: You said, grim.
Amber: Felicity and Major Wilkins are down with the fever.
Me: Shit.
Amber: They’re in another room. The guys are guarding the door. There’s talk of shooting them now.
Me: What ever happened with Darren?
Amber: Nothing yet. The door is still locked shut. He stays quiet most of the time but gets lou
d and violent when he hears us in the hall. There’s no doubt he’s infected.
Me: Do you have a gun?
Amber: Yes. I’m in your old room by myself and I’m keeping the door locked. But Mark has the master key he found in the office so he can lock or unlock any of the rooms.
Me: Is that something to worry about?
Amber: I don’t know. I only go out into the hall when I have to go to the bathroom and I bring the gun with me. Mostly I hear what’s going on with the others through the door.
Me: What do you think is going to happen?
Amber: It’s like Blanton all over again. I think a couple of the guys have sequestered themselves in another of the rooms like me. Marcy and Mark are parading around like the king and queen, but only one of the guys is out there for them to boss around. It’s surreal.
Me: I’m sorry.
Amber: When I got here this place seemed like a refuge. Now I don’t know what it is.
Me: Do you want me to come and get you out? I can’t come tonight, but I could try tomorrow.
Amber: Not a good idea. Everybody thinks you guys are the cause of the infection in here. They think you’re carriers. If they see you, they’ll kill you.
Me: What do you think?
Amber: I don’t know. There’s speculation about it all over the internet.
Me: If that’s true, then I’m truly sorry. I didn’t know. By getting you from the dorm, I may have condemned you.
Amber: We were going to die there anyway. It was just a matter of time.
Me: I’m sorry.
Amber: Don’t be. Things are how they are now.
Me: Don’t give up hope, Amber. We’ll work something out.
Amber: Hope is irrelevant. The infection is spreading among us. It’s only a matter of time before all of us here get exposed, if we’re not already. The internet says that exposure is inevitable. The virus is too resilient, too contagious.
Me: Still, you might be immune. You haven’t contracted the virus yet. If the others were exposed, then you were too. Or you might end up like Murphy and me.
Amber: Those are very slim chances.
Me: Not really. For as much as you’ve been around the virus, especially at Blanton, and you haven’t come down with any symptoms yet, I think there’s a good chance that you’re immune.
Amber: Thanks for the sunshine doctor Zed.
Me: I’m not a doctor but I’m in contact with some people over at the hospital and that’s what they think.
Amber: What?
Me: That the longer you go without catching the virus, the higher the chances are that it’s because you’re immune.
Amber: Really? The doctors said that?
Me: Yup.
Amber: Okay. I’m going to keep the flash drive in my front pocket. That way, if I get infected and I turn and they shoot me, you can find it there.
Me: Amber.
Amber: It’s reality. That’s how it is now. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning if you want.
Me: Absolutely.
I stared off into the darkness for a long time after my conversation ended while I ruminated over my choices. It was hard to tell which were good choices and which weren’t. They all turned sour at some point. They all seemed like mistakes.
Perhaps good needed to be measured in a new way. Perhaps good was just another day or hour of life. Was that as good as it was going to get? I wondered how Murphy would look at it.
It was time to check on Steph.
Me: Steph, are you there?
Steph: Will you be offended if I say again, wow, you’re still alive?
Me: It’s the new hello LOL.
Steph: Wow. You’re still alive.
Me: Wow. You’re still alive.
I took a few moments to convey my situation to Steph before proceeding.
Me: What’s the story at the hospital? Did you guys start infecting people?
Steph: Yes : (
Me: I’m sorry, but like you said before, it’s the only choice that gives some of you guys a chance.
Steph: That’s the logic but that doesn’t make it any easier.
Me: Are you okay with it all?
Steph: I don’t know. It was a hard thing to talk about. But imagining the difficulty was nothing compared to the reality of it.
Me: How many have you done?
Steph: We started right after you and I talked earlier.
Me: And?
Steph: We literally drew names and the first twenty names we pulled got infected. Eighteen of them started to show symptoms within a couple of hours, some right away.
Me: Did you follow through?
Steph: Are you asking if we shot them?
Me: Yes and no. I mean, you guys are doctors. I’m guessing you have drugs you could have used.
Steph: We decided that down the road, drugs would have more value. The soldiers have lots of bullets. An injection would be more humane but we’re still talking about killing people. Once you make the big moral leap, the question of how you do it loses significance. They were shot.
Me: So, eighteen shot and two left?
Steph: Yes. Everybody here is praying that the two make it. That’ll give credence to the theory underlying this fucking experiment. It’ll give us hope.
Me: Hope is important. When does the next group get infected?
Steph: About forty minutes.
Me: When will you know if you’re in that group?
Steph: We’re drawing right before we infect. That way nobody has to brood over their upcoming turn and maybe do something stupid.
Me: When will you know if the two that aren’t showing symptoms are immune?
Steph: We’re talking about that now but the consensus seems to be twenty-four hours.
Me: The doctors aren’t sure yet?
Steph: Nobody really knows.
Me: How are you holding up?
Steph: I’m alive.
Chapter 12
The darkness at the far end of the room grew as my flashlight battery slowly died. My eyelids got heavy. The hours wore on. I dozed off and jerked myself awake a half dozen times, taking deep breaths, and isometrically tensing my muscles each time to get my blood flowing again.
I stood up. I paced. I took care in keeping quiet. There was no point in disturbing the infected below.
I had the urge to check the hour on the phone for the hundredth time, but that would only serve to drain the remainder of my battery.
I sat on a storage bin, leaned back against the concrete wall, and let my thoughts wander. I tried to imagine a future when all of the infected were dead, all but the slow burns like me. I wondered how close life could return to normal. I wondered how many humans would be left when the chaos resolved to order.
I squirmed around and tried to find a comfortable spot on the hard surface.
Murphy’s heavy breathing taunted me with a temptation to sleep.
I wondered if Amber or Steph would be alive in the morning. I wondered whether I should go back to rescue Amber again. Undoubtedly, Murphy would tease me, but she had the flash drive. That flash drive was more valuable than gold.
And, in spite of all that was going on, I wanted to see her.
My eyelids grew heavy again.
Tink. Tink. Tink.
What the hell was that?
I sat up straight and stared into the shadows at the far end of the bunker.
I listened.
Was it my imagination?
Was I dreaming?
Breathing as quietly as I could, I slid slowly off of the storage container and walked to the center of the bunker.
Aside from Murphy’s heavy nighttime breathing, the bunker was as silent as a coffin.
I stilled my body and listened. I heard air flow through my throat. I heard my heartbeat in my ears. I strained at the silence, but no more noises revealed themselves.
Long minutes passed before I convinced myself that those three metallic tinks were my imagination.
I decided to go another twenty minutes before waking Murphy.
Tink, tink, tink.
I sat straight up, alert.
That was not my imagination.
I looked again into the shadows at the end of the bunker.
Tink, tink, tink.
My doubts were gone. It was metal on metal.
Was it one of the infected squirming in a dream as he leaned against the door? Was the noise a rodent hiding in the junk? There had to be an air vent leading to the surface somewhere. Could the noise be the wind blowing a metal flap on that vent?
I got to my feet and moved to the center of the room, my M4 up and ready. I made more noise than I’d wanted to, and as a result, I heard some stirring from beyond the door to the lower level.
I waited a long time for silence to return, and then I waited some more.
The noise was a mystery that I had to solve.
As quietly as I could, I stepped toward the door. I reached over the boxes blocking my way, steeled my nerves, lay a hand on the door’s cold metal, and listened.
Nothing.
I leaned close and pressed my ear to the door. I heard the breathing and night noises of half a hundred sleeping humans. No, not humans, not anymore. Monsters, in human skin.
Tink, tink, tink.
With my ear still pressed against the metal door, the sound was loud enough to startle me. I fell backwards.
The noise of my fall was more than sufficient to cause a stir beyond the door. At least a half dozen of the infected became animated and vocal.
I pulled myself to my feet as quickly as I could and leveled my weapon at the door. I waited.
The infected rustled around and pushed on the door but eventually calmed, and fell silent.
The metallic taps mystery was solved or at least the source identified. I asked myself whether someone could still be alive inside. If so, it had to be a slow burn.
I removed an ammo magazine from my vest and slipped out one round. I stepped back over to the door and with the brass end of the round, I tapped three times on the door: tink, tink, tink.
