Deathly Contagious (7 page)

“Ma!” he hollered. “Ma! Get over here fast!”

I heard the shuffling of feet. My vision blurred.

“Oh my!” a gruff female voice spoke. “Dear, have you been bit?”

“No, not bit,” I mumbled. Then I lost my balance. The woman caught me.

“Beau, Casey, get in here!”

Someone grabbed me and carried me over to a sofa. I knew they were talking to me but my brain couldn’t discern what the words were saying. I held up my arm, mumbled the words ‘blood poisoning’ and passed out.  

I was only out for a few minutes. When I woke up, a pretty red head was scrubbing my wrist. Her green eyes held back fear and were filled with tears. She looked at me with what I could only say was empathy.

“Hi,” she said shyly, looking over her shoulder in fear. “I’m Olivia. As soon as you’re better you need to leave,” she whispered harshly.

“I’m planning on it,” I promised.

“Good. Because you can’t—” she cut off as soon as one of the guys came into the room. Her body tensed up in fear and the tears that brimmed her eyes spilled over.

“You taking care of our guest now?” he asked. Olivia nodded slightly. “Good. We want her healthy.” He knelt down next to the couch and examined me. “I’m Beau,” he said. My vision was too fuzzy to fully take in his appearance. His hair was cut in a mullet style and he chewed on a toothpick. “We’re gonna getcha all fixed up now.”

I nodded and mumbled thanks. Olivia poured something over my arm that burned like hell. “Sorry,” she told me before gently wrapping my wrist in gauze.

“So,” Beau said, rocking back on his heels. “How did you end up here?”

Something in Olivia’s eyes begged me not to tell the truth.

“Got lost,” I said, which was ambiguous enough to be safe.

“You got others looking for you?”

Olivia’s skinny fingers dug into my arm.

“No,” I said. It was probably true. Everyone assumed I was dead anyway. “They got eaten.”

Beau smiled for a split second. “Well, now. I’ll let Olivia patcha up.” His eyes slid over her body. He smacked her butt. “Come up to bed when you’re done, darlin’,” he told her.

Even with my nonfunctioning brain, I knew something was off. He didn’t ask who I was or how I was feeling. Wait, it didn’t matter. I was inside, I was slowly warming up and I wasn’t going to die of sepsis. It didn’t matter if he asked for my name. I leaned back against the couch.

“I don’t think this one’s gonna make it,” a female voice said, her face so close to mine I could smell her stinky breath.

I opened my eyes to see a freckled woman staring me down. She straightened up and pressed a smile. Her hands settled on her swollen belly. She was either pregnant or had one hell of a beer gut.

“I’m fine,” I told her.

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’ll be fine,” I corrected. Olivia put my arm down and unzipped my coat. I sat up and helped her pull the sleeves off my arms. The older woman who greeted me at the door came into the room carrying a tray. She set it down on the coffee table, which was cluttered with empty pop cans, a golden statue of a six point buck and random wrappers and crumbs.

“Here ya go, sweetie,” she said and lifted a cup to my lips. I took it and eagerly drank the warm broth. It felt good to have something in my stomach but I instantly felt nauseous again. My face must have shown it because Olivia took the cup from me and guided me through piles of clutter into a bathroom.

I remembered to pull my hair back as the broth came back up. Olivia whispered something to me but I didn’t hear it over the sound of my own retching. The older woman and Olivia helped me up the stairs, past more piles of crap and into a bedroom. The room was oddly neat and clean compared to the rest of the house.

I took off my jacket and then my boots and fell into the bed.

“Your ankle is swollen,” Olivia observed. “I’ll take care of you so you can leave,” she said harshly again. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t plan on staying but I was just too weak. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

I woke up sometime in the morning. My head pounded and my throat was on fire. A soft hissing sound temporarily scared me before I realized that someone had plugged in a humidifier next to my bed. I had been stripped of my clothes as well, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Yes, they were dirty but that meant someone had removed my clothes…and did God knows what else.

It was probably the strawberry blonde girl, Olivia. I sat up, feeling dizzy all over again. Feebly, I got out of bed in search for a drink of water. There was a bathroom attached to the bedroom and I stumbled my way to it. I turned on the water, running it for a few seconds before cupping my hands and getting a drink. I got a good look at myself in the mirror: my hair had been brushed out and I was dressed in a pink cami with lace straps and silk pink pajama pants. My bra was missing but I at least still had my underwear on.

A wave of chills and nausea hit me and my knees buckled. I laid on the linoleum floor for several minutes until I had the strength to pull myself up. Every breath hurt my lungs. Everything inside me hurt as if it was being pinched. I felt like I was dying. I got to my feet, tripped over the bathroom rug and fell again.

The older woman rushed in, having heard the commotion.

“Oh, deary, what are you doing out of bed?” She linked her arms through mine and helped me up and into bed. I got under the covers without hesitation.

“Thirsty,” I croaked, surprised at how weak my voice was. She nodded, clucking to herself before she scurried out of the room to return with a glass of water. I sipped it then collapsed back into a sickly state of dementia-like sleep.

I was bedridden for the next four days. On day five, I was able to get up and walk to the bathroom on my own. I brushed out my hair, braided it and got back into bed. That minute task had tired me out. Time had passed in a nondescribable way. It seemed only yesterday I was alone in the woods, shivering and delirious from blood poisoning. And then it seemed I had been here forever. Grateful as I was at the strangers’ hospitality and eagerness to nurse me back to health, I wanted to go back to the compound.

Someone knocked on the door, waited a second and opened it. The pregnant Freckle Face held a steaming bowl of buttered rice. She set it on the nightstand and touched my forehead.

“Your fever’s gone down.”

“Oh, good.”

“I’m Jaylyn.”

“Orissa.”

“Nice to meet you.” She rubbed her stomach. Doubting she was caressing an accumulation of fat, I assumed she was for sure pregnant.

“When are you due?” I asked, not caring if I offended her in the off chance she did just have a gut.

“Probably the end of July,” she said casually. “We don’t know for sure since I can’t get one of those inside picture thingies done.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Eat,” she instructed. “Sue Ellen gave you some antibiotic injections the last few days. You should probably put some food in your stomach.”

Sue Ellen must be the older woman. “She’s a doctor?” I asked, feeling almost hopeful.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry though, I’ve taken them before. Cows aren’t that diff’ernt than humans. You just gotta cut the dose in half.”

I nodded again, this time feeling a little horrified. I imagined Padraic’s reaction when I told him I had been given animal medicine.

“Eat and rest.” She faked a smile and left. I slowly ate the rice. I was so hungry but at the same time was afraid of barfing, as I had been for the last few days. I finished half, got another drink from the sink and went back to sleep. Olivia came in later that evening with more food and a cup of juice.

“Hi,” she said weakly. Her eyes met mine for a millisecond. “You’re Orissa?”

“Yea.”

“It’s a pretty name. We both have ‘O’ names,” she said, though I think it was mostly to herself.

“Yea, I guess.”

She put a bowl of soup on the nightstand. She had a bruise on her right forearm and a black eye. I didn’t remember seeing that before.

“Where did you come from?” she asked, dropping her voice and looking over her shoulder at the door.

“South. From the south.”

“By yourself?”

“Not entirely.”

“You have to get out, Orissa. Before it’s too—”

“What are you telling the new girl?” the young boy asked loudly, appearing in the doorway.

“Nothing, I’m just asking her if she’s alright.” Olivia trembled with fear. “Harley, this is Orissa. You need to let her rest.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he sneered.

“Harley,” Olivia pressed. “Beau told you to let her rest.”

“No he didn’t,” Harley snapped. “I came here to supervise.”

“You don’t need to,” Olivia went on, straining to stay calm. Tears formed in her eyes again.

“Yes, I do. I’m one of the men in this house,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I have to keep an eye on the women.”

“The women?” I questioned. Olivia gave me a please-don’t-say-anything look. Harley crossed his arms.

“Yes. The women.”

“Alright,” a deep voice said from down the hall. “That’s enough.” The guy who introduced himself as Beau stood behind the boy. “Get on, go help Ma.” He pushed past him and came into the room. “Don’t mind my ‘lil brother,” he said with a chuckle. His clothes were dirty and he smelled like unwashed hair and body odor. I knew hygiene took the back burner when it came to surviving in this hell of a world, but the house had running water. It was gross.

“Yea,” I mumbled.

“Rest up,” he told me. “We’d like you-ta eat with us and meet the rest of the family.” He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. “Olivia, why don’t you’n get Rissa here something to wear tonight.”

“Ok,” she said weakly, jumping off the bed. “Take a shower, Orissa. I’ll be right back with clothes,” she told me before she scuttled out of the room.

“Need help?” Beau asked.

“No,” I retorted. He smirked and turned away. I shut the door and went into the bathroom. Showering felt wonderful. The water even stayed warm the entire time. I towel dried my hair, brushed it and re-plaited it in a side braid going over my left shoulder. I wrapped the towel tightly around my body and opened the bathroom door.

A short blue and white polka dot dress was neatly laid out on the bed.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I breathed, holding it up. The only undergarments that had been provided were a pair of thigh high, white socks and a thong. If I hadn’t worn the pajamas for five days in a row, I would have put them back on. I gritted my teeth and pulled the ugly thing on. Just a few more days, I told myself, and I’d be good enough to trek out on my own.

Olivia led me down the stairs, through the very cluttered living room and into the dining room. The house was fairly large for being an older farm house. The entire thing—except the room I was in—was a disgusting mess, with food and garbage left out to rot and fester, as if there wasn’t enough of that going on outside.

Everyone besides Olivia had muddy, brown hair. She sat next to me, nervously tearing her napkin. On her other side sat Beau. Across from him was a man I hadn’t met yet, though he looked just like a younger version of Beau. Next to him was Jaylyn, and to her right was another young man. I remembered seeing him the first night I arrived here. By the way he put his hands all over Jaylyn’s body, I assumed he was the father of the baby.

Sue Ellen sat at one end of the table, with Harley crowded in next to her. An older man, with greasy, graying hair pulled back into a pony tail, sat at the head of the table. He winked and smiled at me, showing off his tobacco stained crooked teeth.

“I’m Bart,” he said gruffly. “Glad you stumbled into our neck of the woods. Lucky you did.”

“Yea,” I said back, not wanting to be totally ungrateful. “I’m feeling much better, thanks.”

“Now you’n take your time and heal up properly,” he told me with a nod. “You sure is pretty,” he added quietly, causing Jaylyn to huff jealously.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Sue Ellen asked, her hand flying to her heart. “Deary, you’ve already met Beau, Olivia, Jaylyn and my baby, Harley.” She seemed way too old to have a little kid. “This is Casey,” she said, pointing to the thin guy groping Jaylyn. He nodded and said ‘hey’ dumbly. “And this is Delmont,” she introduced.

“Nice to meet you, Orissa,” Delmont said almost shyly. Beau whispered something across the table to him that made both guys erupt in giggles. Sue Ellen glared at them and Bart cleared his throat. Dinner consisted of canned vegetables and venison that Bart and Delmont killed yesterday.

 My stomach still couldn’t handle much; I could only eat half of what was put on my plate. I pushed the food around while watching everyone interact. Bart was older, probably nearing sixty and I think was Sue Ellen’s husband. Jaylyn and Harley called him ‘dad’ while Beau and his brother Delmont called him uncle and Casey called Sue Ellen his aunt. I couldn’t wrap my brain around their messed up family tree.

But what really confused me was how Olivia fit into this. She seemed on the verge of tears again. When she lifted her fork to her mouth, I could see a bruise that looked very much like a handprint on the inside of her arm. She also had a thin, short dress on. Like mine, her hideous dress made its heyday ten years ago and was incredible impractical not only for the zombie apocalypse but also for the winter.

As soon as dinner was over she sprung up and started cleaning. Delmont came around and placed his hands on my chair, scooted it out and extended a hand. Not taking it, I pushed myself up. A twinge of rage showed on his face.

“Orissa,” he said.

“What?”

“Come with me.”

“Why?”

“Let’s talk. We should get to know each other.”

The red flag went up at the same time the nausea came back. I closed my eyes and ignored the spinning sensation. Delmont put his hand on my arm. If I wasn’t so dizzy, I would have jerked away. He pulled me forward and I stumbled, my reactions paralyzed. He caught me and held me close to him, crushing my breasts against his body. Like Beau, he reeked.

“She’s still sick,” Olivia’s quiet voice came from behind me.