Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen (15 page)

Twenty-Four

Veronica carefully opened the door to the bedroom and peeked inside.  She was surprised to see Margaret sitting up in bed awake.  Her posture was straight and proper; her hands were set flat on her lap on a folded over section of sheet, her gaze longingly aimed towards the window.  Sunlight fell from the skylight above warming the room.  The old woman turned her head and smiled at Veronica.

“No need to pussy-foot, I’m awake.” Margaret smiled.

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, much better,” Margaret turned and scooted to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the balcony.  “In fact, I feel better than I have in a long time.  That meal was fantastic.”

Veronica entered, still holding the small washcloth to her side and sat on the bed. Margaret smiled with some effort and then sighed.

“You don’t have to attend me dear; go be with your friends.”

“They’re in town getting a few things.” Veronica said.

Margaret’s face went pale, “Oh, that’s right.  I certainly hope they’re careful.”

“They will be.”  Veronica hoped aloud. 

“The lean, strapping fellow who found me… He went with them?”

Veronica nodded.  Margaret nodded with her.

“He reminds me of my boy.”

“You have a son?” Veronica asked and realized that Margaret was having trouble responding.  After a moment, Margaret nodded.

“He died in the Gulf.” She slowly rose to her feet.  Veronica stood unsure of the old woman’s stability, ready to offer her an arm.  Margaret proceeded out on to the balcony and looked over the town.  

“He’s buried over there, in the yard with my husband Al.”  She pointed a bony finger to the church, “It’s nice that I can see them from here; comforting, I suppose.” Margaret shrugged.

Veronica aimed the telescope on the balcony towards the church and attempted to bend down for a look.  A sharp pain in her midsection bit at her. She straightened up quickly, reconsidered the effort and looked towards the bathroom.

“Are you still hurt dear?”

“I’m okay Ma’am I just need to change my dressing.”

“Can I help?” the lady asked.

“No, it’s not that bad.  I can handle it.” Veronica said lingering for a moment to let the stinging subside. She looked at Whisper, in the direction of her apartments.  There didn’t appear to be any more fires in the town.  Her building was far away but she could see that it was intact.  Veronica didn’t have a lot of material attachments in the world.  Army brats moved around a lot and that transience always kept her from caring about the accumulation of things.  Veronica’s treasures lay in her mind; in her ability to reason and recall knowledge.  She had acquired many books in her years but those were replaceable.  Even her father’s medals, something she valued because they were his, were only tokens of his actions and could be lost without much real regret.  Her breathing quickened as she suddenly remembered the shoebox in her nightstand, the shoebox full of old irreplaceable photographs.  Veronica’s photos were the only images that she had of her deceased parents; of a mother that she never knew.  She suddenly realized how important those images were and that she must be sure to safeguard them as soon as possible.  She had every image committed to memory, but the idea that she might lose them brought a different kind of fear. 

As Veronica’s gaze lingered towards her apartments, she was surprised by Margaret’s hand on her shoulder.

“Shit!” cursed the old woman.  Veronica turned and saw the object of Margaret’s distress.

A stiff figure stood in front of the outer gate.  Veronica wanted to believe that it was a living person seeking refuge but knew from the unsteady way that it reached an arm up through the bars that it was one of the undead. 

“Is that one of those things?” Margaret trembled.

“It’s on the other side of the gate ma’am.  It can’t hurt us.” Veronica said.  She knew they were safe but thought that she should go down there and take care of it before more show up.  It wouldn’t be wise to let their numbers build or worse, lose track of it and have to worry about where it might end up. 

“He doesn’t look dead. Sick, but not dead.” Margaret said.

“Not from here.” Veronica said.

“What about the soul?”  The old woman asked.  Veronica looked at her unsure.

“I don’t understand?” Veronica said.

“Are their souls trapped in there, to walk around hurting people?” Margaret whispered.  Veronica considered the question.

“No.  I don’t think there is anything like that left.”  Veronica said, “Who they were, is not what they are now; it’s just disease.”  Veronica’s words didn’t seem to bring any solace.

“Why is this happening?  Why are they acting like this?”  The old woman fretted, her eyes fixed on the gate.

“I don’t know ma’am.  I’ve seen them up close but only for a short time.” Veronica said, “Someone’s going to have to study the phenomenon and make some observations, run tests and come up with some theories.”  Veronica observed the creature from her perch.

“Are you sure that gate will keep him away?” McCormack asked.  Veronica squinted.

“Yes, we could walk right up to it and be perfectly safe.” Veronica said.

*****

Tony set three packages of Walkie-talkies on the counter.  He removed his combat knife from his harness and handed it to Nikki.

“Careful.”  He said and made a cutting motion with an imaginary knife, “Remember, always cut away from your body.”

He smiled and turned back towards the front of the store.  They had what they needed for his plan.  Time now for one last look to see if there was anything else they could use.  The weightlifting shelves held some expensive vitamin supplements that he knew would be good to combat physical stress.  He opened up the sleeping-bag that served as his makeshift silencer and used it as a huge sack which he filled with supplements, vitamins, and protein bars.

A distant rumble came from outside the broken windows.  Tony dropped the sleeping bag and moved around a display shelf to peer out into the street.  He pulled the Colt from his equipment belt and flicked the safety off.  If the hillbillies were back to get the rest of the ammo, he would need something a lot more powerful than a twenty-two to fend them off.  As the sound approached, he quickly considered his options, escape or confrontation.  He wasn’t prepared to get into a gun fight with other living people.  He had just got used to the idea of putting down the walking dead, but the living was another story not to mention that they would fire back.  There was also Nikki to think of; he couldn’t risk putting her in danger.  Tony dashed back to his sack, scooped it over his shoulder like Old St. Nick, and made for the perceived safety of the counter.

“We gotta go!” he urged.

They ran behind the swinging doors; Nikki clutching the hand radios to her chest. 

“Throw those in here, and grab the batteries.” Tony whispered as he handed her the bag.  He stayed at the door, peering through the window with the Colt at the ready.  He saw nothing but began to hear the rumble approach from another direction.  It was coming from the rear door.  He had let them circle his position. 
Damn it
! He thought,
Mason wouldn’t have let this happen
.  Who ever was coming was in the back ally and would see the Bronco, cutting off their escape.  The lock securing the door was drilled out but it would still take a screwdriver to open; buying them some time.

“Too late.” Tony said wondering how many threats were beyond the door.  “Take the shotgun and hide, over there,” he pointed hurriedly for Nikki, “in the dark.”

Tony took the loaded twenty-two and moved into the shadows.  He laid the rifle on a shelf and lined it up on the door.  No one was going to be intimidated by the firecracker like pop of a twenty-two, but he wanted it ready should the need arise.  He thought it best to open with the Colt and fall back to the rifle if he must.  The idea of shooting a living person, even someone twisted enough to try and scalp a walking corpse, made him sick to his stomach.  Mason was the violent one, not Tony.  Jack used to say that when the shit went down, Tony would have to be ready.  With enemies just beyond the door, Tony still, in his heart, didn’t want to have to hurt, possibly kill another living being.  He steadied the Colt with both hands and tried to steady his nerves.  The rumbling stopped as the vehicle turned off. 

Tony looked to where Nikki had taken cover; he couldn’t see her in the shadows.  He regretted bringing her.  He pushed the sickness in his gut away with the knowledge that he had to defend her.   The obscene possibilities of Nikki falling into the hands of a bunch of damn Hillbillies flashed in his head. 
No way
! He thought and took determined aim on the door.  He thumbed the hammer of the Colt back and felt his hesitation evaporate.  He realized with a odd sense of calm, that he could kill to protect her.

The handle of the door clicked and twisted.  Tony squinted, preparing for the bright light that would come with the opening of the door. 
Aim at the silhouettes, aim at the shapes
.

There was a quiet knock.  Tony straightened up.  He approached the door with his pistol at the ready and another soft knock was heard.  He waved in Nikki’s direction to steady her and took a position next to the door.  He tapped twice on the metal surface with his pistol.  The tap was answered with another two taps.

“Hey. Open the door.” It was Jack Mason’s voice.

Tony turned the deadbolt and let him in.

“What are you doing?” asked Tony, squinting against the sunlight. 

“I need a new pair of gloves.” He said smiling and quickly closed the door, “What’s going on?”

Nikki exited the shadows with a harried look and placed the shotgun back in the cart.

*****

“Are you sure it was them?” Billy asked Gabe stretching as far as he dared over the rear corner of the bowling alley roof for a better look.

“It was Jack’s truck all right, I saw him come from that mountain road and drive around for a while.  I lost it over there for a few minutes but it ended up going right where that yellow Bronco went.” 

Billy considered the distance.  Jack’s truck had parked about five blocks away.

“We gotta let them know we’re here.” Billy said.

Twenty-Five

Nikki stood at the sales counter trying to load batteries into a Walkie-Talkie.  She had inserted one upside down and in removing it; the spring launched it across the room. She was still breathing hard from Mason’s arrival.  For a moment there, she thought she might never get to see her parents again.  It was the uncertainty that was wearing on her, the speed at which everything had happened, and was still happening, causing her hands to fumble.  Just moments ago, she was ready to start shooting her shotgun at anything that came through the door.  The way Tony reacted, the urgency in his whispers, the directness of his actions, had told her everything she needed to know.  She was going to follow his lead if he started shooting.  The situation almost brought her to a place where she would have to kill someone again.  Lance’s death still nagged at her and it was only the distraction of their ever growing predicament that kept her from dwelling on her actions.  In the murky afterglow of Jack’s arrival, she was having trouble shaking off the adrenalin.  Nikki took a breath and tried to focus.

She paused for a moment and looked at the boys.  Tony and Jack were on the sales floor standing over the body of the ghoul that Tony had killed.  She couldn’t hear what they were discussing but she did notice that they were talking as if nothing had happened between them earlier.  Jack was listening as Tony briefed him as a soldier might inform his commander.  Tony looked to her quickly and continued his report.  She wondered how often he did that; checking on her.  It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed.  Was it because he felt he had to watch her?  No, he was just that kind of guy; a man who holds open a door for a stranger, or, helps an old woman with her groceries, or even teaches girls to shoot dead cannibals.  Jack on the other hand; she didn’t know what to think of him.  Nikki was sure that she didn’t want them either of them seeing her hands shake.  She had things to do and this was no time to freak out.  She had to learn from these two men, learn how to be more like them; to be more like Veronica, and do what had to be done to survive.

She took a new battery from the open package and forced herself to slowly put it in the correct way.  Closing the battery cover, she turned on the radio.  She motioned to Tony, who came trotting over without delay.

“Got it working?” He asked.

“I guess so, how do you work it?” She asked.

Tony took the radio and pressed down on the talk button.

“Homebase, this is Sassy-pants do you read me?” He smiled at Nikki while talking.  There was no response.  He tried again but with no results.  He checked a setting on the unit and nodded.

“Sassy-pants?” Nikki inquired.

“Yep, that’s your call sign. From the Latin, Pantalones de Sassy; it’s very prestigious.”  He checked the radio again and looked around the building, then to Jack.  He pointed to the radio, shook his head, and then pointed to the ceiling.  Nikki saw Mason respond with a nod, point to his eyes, than then to the showroom.  She wondered where these boys learned their special sign language or if they just made it up as they went.  She had no idea what Tony said, but was reasonably certain that Jack wanted to have a look around.  Tony moved behind the counter and offered her his hand.  She took it and followed him to the storeroom and the wooden ladder on the wall.

*****

Margaret shook her head adamant that Veronica had taken leave of her senses.

“Just leave it alone.  You said so yourself that he can’t get near us.” The old woman insisted.

“This may be the only chance I have to safely observe one this closely.” Veronica answered while rifling through the clothing hanging in Lance’s closet, “That gate is perfect to allow me a view with maximum security.”

Margaret could feel her heart beginning to tighten.  She didn’t know why this beautiful, sweet young lady would want to get anywhere near one of those things.  She sat down to try and catch her shuddering breath.  She only had one tablet of medicine left, after that; she didn’t have the slightest idea of what she would do.  She tried to calm down.

“Use the telescope if you want to look at it.”

Veronica smiled and shook her head.  She pulled a long rain coat from the back of the walk-in closet and brought it out into the room.

“I’m not just going to look.  I have to take notes, and photographs; for scientific study.” She said as she put the raincoat on.  Margaret watched as Veronica collected the video camera, a bandanna, and a pair of sunglasses.

“Mrs. McCormack, I’ve dealt with these things before.  I’m completely aware of what I’m doing.  There’s another issue as well,” The young girl said while placing the camera tripod near the door.  “I shouldn’t just leave it down there.  It may wander off and hurt someone else later.”

“Are you going to…” Margaret didn’t want to say the words, “kill it?”

Veronica stopped and nodded to her.  Almost instinctively Margaret reached for the bed sheet.  She lifted the sheet and sat back down, sliding around back into bed.

“It’ll be okay.  Please just stay up here.  You’ll probably hear a gunshot in a while.”   The girl gave her a weak smile and said. “I really do know what I am doing.”

Margaret hoped to God that she did.  The old woman breathed deep and tried to think of happier memories.

*****

Gabe saw two figures appear on the roof of a building in the distance.  The woman was unfamiliar but the shape of the man, and the fact that he was wearing a military equipment harness, was unmistakable.

“There, that’s Tony!” Shouted Gabe.

“Who’s with him?” Billy wondered aloud.

Gabe shook his head, “We gotta get their attention.”

“Can ether of you guys whistle?” Jinxy asked.  Neither of the men answered.  Gabe looked at his watch.  A bright circle of light danced over his forehead, reflected in the glass.

“Do that again.” Jinxy said, “Check the time.”  Gabe did so and now Billy saw the reflection.

*****

“Up here the signal should go further,” said Tony as he helped Nikki from the ladder.  He turned on the unit and engaged the send button.

“Homebase this is Shopping-spree, do you read me.”

The radio was silent.  Nikki was a ball of pent up nerves as they waited for a response; her eyes eagerly trained on the radio. Tony turned and pointed the antenna towards the estate on the hill and sent again.

“Homebase this is your camping buddy, do you read me?”  Tony looked to Nikki and chuckled.  She frowned and his smile faded.  The radio came to life.

“Tony? Is that you?”  Veronica’s voice asked.  There was some static but the signal was clear enough to recognize her voice. Nikki made a little half spin in triumph.  In doing so, a bright flash of light caught her eye.  She turned and saw the reflection moving erratically across Tony’s back. 

“Could be, but we don’t use real names over open communications.” Tony admonished with humorous sarcasm.  Nikki patted him on his back until  he turned and saw the reflected light.  He stared intently and saw three figures on the roof of a building in the distance.  Tony leaned forward and squinted.  Next, he smiled and then handed the radio to Nikki and disappeared back down the roof hatch.

“Sorry. This is homebase, you’re a dork” Veronica answered.

“It’s me. Dork had to run.  But we’re okay, we’ll call you back,” said Nikki while trying to get a better look at the figures waving at her from across the rooftops.  She cocked her head to the right wondering who it was.

“No problem, I’ll be here.” Veronica said into the radio.  She left it on and used the belt clip to attach it to her pocket.  Standing on the main driveway in front of the mansion in her raincoat, a bandanna around her neck, a pair of clear safety goggles, and Playtex gloves, she looked like a bizarre plastic gunfighter.  Using black electrical tape, she secured a steak knife to the end of broomstick.  She leaned the broomstick on an aluminum tripod that supported the video camera.  She un-slung the double-barrel shotgun and opened the breach.  The brass ends of two shells emerged confirming that it was loaded.  She snapped the weapon closed and slung it over her shoulder.  Veronoca took a deep breath and looked down the long driveway.

The lone creature, a shadow of its lost humanity, stood at the iron gate reaching a grisly claw in her direction.  Veronica started the camera recording and checked the viewfinder.  She wasn’t concerned about what the video looked like, just that her observations would be recorded.  She stood in front of the camera and spoke while tying her hair back with a rubber band.

“This is Veronica Emmons, recording on Tuesday, July fifteenth, twelve-thirty P.M. in Whisper California, as far as I can tell, three days after the first exposure.  I am approaching the subject.”

Veronica moved out of frame, picked up the camera and broomstick and began walking down the driveway.

“The subject appeared at the gate about a half hour ago.  I’ve seen anecdotal evidence that these things can smell the living.  Since we have been very quiet here, its presence would seem to support that idea.  Two days ago I saw a reanimated corpse that was blinded.  I saw it sniff at the air and hunt by smell; with great accuracy, I might add.”

Veronica stopped ten feet from the gate and set down the tripod.  She checked the viewfinder again and made sure the camera had a good shot of the dead man’s torso.  Its growls grew louder with her proximity.  She pulled her bandanna up over her mouth and nose, and then adjusted her goggles.  She spoke loudly to be heard over the growls of the dead man.

“There’s a smell associated with the reanimates.  I would compare it to Ammonia.  I wonder if some internal cellular process is creating nitrogenous wastes.  Perhaps it is related to what ever is causing this reanimation.”  Veronica’s voice was muffled by the bandanna.  She studied the ghoul for a moment and then the gate to reassure her self that it was secure.

“I can smell traces of ammonia now but not as much as the ones we first encountered.  I wonder if there’s a generational relationship involved.  For example, a body reanimated by exposure to what the television reports say is a meteor, would be a first generation exposure.  It bites another unfortunate person, making that one a second gen reanimate, then the second bites a third.  Would it be possible that a third gen reanimate, while still dead but walking and just as hostile, could it have less of the ammonia producing compound in its body?”  Veronica realized that she had been pacing in front of the camera and talking to it as if it were a person.  She quickly left the camera’s view embarrassed. 

“Not that this is important, just thinking out loud.” She said wondering if the Vicodin she took was making her a little loopy. She looked in the viewfinder and zoomed in close on the hungry creature. 

It was dressed in a set of dark blue work coveralls.  A patch on the left chest had a logo with the letters “WP&W” and the name “Malcolm.” The bottom of his left cheek was bitten and a small piece of flesh was torn away.

“The dead seem to instinctually attack the soft tissue areas of their victims; spreading the infection.  Animals attack the soft parts of their prey as well.  Are these things falling back to some primitive instinct?” Veronica considered for a moment.

“The reanimated only seem to be interested in living flesh. There was a car accident that I saw last night; the driver was killed on impact and wasn’t exposed to the infection.  His body was out in the open for sometime, possibly since the confusion of the initial event, yet no reanimates took advantage of his situation.  I suppose that dead flesh isn’t appealing to them.” Veronica shivered at a thought, “I wonder if an uninfected dead body would awaken if exposed to a bite or blood from an infected subject.”

“Now that’s a hideous thought.” Veronica said to herself.

*****

Jack Mason smiled as he looked through his field glasses and recognized the figures on the roof.

“It’s Gabe and Billy; I don’t see Travis with them though.”  Mason offered Tony the binoculars and realized that Tony was already looking through a pair of his own; recently purloined from the showroom floor.  Mason turned to offer the glasses to the blonde, but she was looking through a pair identical to Tony’s; not in the direction of their friends but in the direction of the high school.  Mason shook his head and frowned.

“We have to get them a radio too.” Mason said securing his field glasses in a pouch.  He was relieved to see his team mates from Team Blackjack alive but worried that Travis wasn’t with them.  Jack had invited the three of them up for the paintball competition.  Not that he could have predicted the dead returning to life, but he did feel some measure of responsibility for bringing them out here. 

“We have extras; we can toss one up after we throw mine.” Nikki’s voice said from under her binoculars.  Mason bristled at her reiteration that she should have some sort of priority.  Turning to look at his friend, he saw Tony sweeping his binoculars over the high school area as well.  Mason gave him a dirty look that Tony couldn’t see.

“So how do you wanna do this?” Mason asked.

“I was thinking Nikki could drive and I’ll hang out the passenger’s window and throw the duffle bag with the radio over the fence.”  Tony said setting down his binoculars.