Slow Burn (Book 2): Infected (4 page)

Me:
What will you do with the ones that show signs of the infection?

Steph:
Shoot them.

Me:
I don’t know what to say…

Steph:
It’s a hard choice. We’re doctors and nurses. We’re supposed to help people.

Me:
What about the slow burns? They’ll show signs of infection but might turn out like me.

Steph:
It doesn’t matter. Same solution.

Steph:
Zed?

Steph:
Zed?

Steph:
Are you still there?

Me:
Yes.

Steph:
Are you angry that some slow burns like you will get killed?

I didn’t answer at first because the answer was
yes, but I was more angry because I couldn’t think of a better solution.

Me:
Take the infection. Kill the infected. It’s your only chance.

Steph:
Thanks for being honest.

Me:
How will the vote go?

Steph:
We’ll vote to infect. It’s our only choice.

Me:
Tell me before they infect you?

Steph:
I’ll give my phone to my friend Liz. She’ll let you know if I don’t make it.

Crowded isn’t the first word I’d choose to describe how many infected were in the dimly lit tunnel system beneath the campus, but there were a lot more loitering around inside than I would have preferred. There were places on our lengthy trek where we had to squeeze past groups of infected squatting and resting or others trying to push their way through a door to gain access to one of the university buildings.

It was a stressful hike, but at least the tunnels were cool and the infected showed little interest in us.

When we finally arrived at the door we were looking for, we exited the tunnel into the bowels of the university’s twenty-thousand seat basketball arena. We were just north of the hospital complex. We found a staircase that led up to the ground-level concourse that traced a path around the circumference of the circular building. Without speaking, we followed the echoes of our footsteps around the wide, deserted circle.

The ground floor concourse was walled in glass
, so it was easy for us to gauge our location simply by looking outside.

When we arrived at the south side of the arena we saw the hospital complex across a concrete plaza and a lawn of dying grass.

Carnage left by the days-long battle with the infected was everywhere.

Military vehicles were scattered about. A few were burned. Most were just abandoned, some with heavy doors swaying in the breeze. The triage tent that Murphy and I had been in a few days
earlier had fallen. The barricades were in shambles.

In the streets, all over the parking lots, and on the lawns, lay the dead. Brutal evidence of the
efficacy yet insufficiency of military firepower. The live infected were everywhere, walking, squatting in the shadows, or running toward the hospital’s main building. The lower floors of the hospital were swarming with them.

Muffled gunfire sounded from the hospital, punctuated by occasional explosions. A window blew out and a shower of glass rained on the infected trying to get into the building. The soldiers inside were losing another battle. The hospital staff was losing another floor.

I stared at the upper floors of the westernmost building, wondering what would become of Steph. I tried to squeeze some inspiration for a rescue plan out of my brain, but all I got were thoughts of helplessness and frustration.

Murphy gave me a shove in the shoulder to get my attention. “Forget it, Null Spot. There’s nothing we can do for them.”

“I wasn’t…”

“Whatever, man.”

There was no point arguing. Murphy was right.

“If we want an armored Humvee, this is the place,” Murphy said. “The soldiers are too busy staying alive up there to stop us. Whitey might be a problem though. He gets mad when you steal his cars. Heh, heh, heh.”

“Murphy, if you’re trying to piss me off with your Whitey remarks, you know, I don’t care about that stuff, right?”

“Man, I’m just trying to get you lighten up a bit.”

“Murphy, we’re looking at a thousand rotting corpses. Lighten up?”

“Life is what you make it, man.”

I gave it a derisive little headshake.

“All these infected wandering around might be a problem.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “But like we talked, once we’re in a Humvee, an armored one, I don’t think they can do anything to get at us.”

“But if they swarm us like they swarmed Wilkins’ car…”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Murphy, if we’re going to back out, now is the time to do it, because once I open this door, who knows what happens. It’s all a gamble.”

“Yeah, man, I know.”

“One of those Humvees could come in real handy. We could be at your mom’s house in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, Zed,
but I’m still worried about getting out once we get where we’re going.”

“All we need is patience. They’ll get bored and wander off.”

Murphy stared at the scene before us, but remained silent.

”Murphy if we’re going to do this, we need to move it along. What do you wanna do?”

“All right. If we’re gonna do this, then let’s do it.” Murphy pushed the glass doors open and walked out into the full sun, without looking to make sure I was behind. Over his shoulder, he whispered, “Damn, it’s hot out here.”

I nodded. It was
damn
hot. We walked toward the nearest armored Humvee that appeared to have an obscured view from the hospital windows, just in case.

The smell of all of the dead bodies rotting in the sun was overwhelming, but the smoke in the air helped to mask it.

Thick clouds of flies swarmed us.

Smears and pools of bodily fluids, not quite dry, made the footing treacherous.

“This is disgusting,” Murphy said.

“Yeah.” I opened my mouth to stop breathing the
rancid stench into my nose, but when the flies tried to land in my mouth I felt like I could taste the corpses on my tongue. I felt nauseous.

Bodies lay about, ripped open by bullets. Bellies were distended where the gases of rot had no hole to escape. Faces were stretched in agony.

“Can people eat rats?” I asked.

Murphy stopped and looked at me. His expression told me that he thought I might be cracking up. “What are you even talking about?”

“I’m just thinking that this place is going to be infested with rats pretty soon. The whole city will be. They’d be a plentiful food source.”

Murphy shook his head
, “I’ll learn how to grow potatoes or something long before I eat a rat.” He turned and hurried across the distance to the Humvee we’d selected.

The vehicle was empty. That was good luck. Rotting corpses baking in the heat of a closed vehicle might have made it unusable.

I looked around at the infected nearby. They were either rummaging through bloody scraps or focused on the gunshots coming from the hospital.

Murphy jumped into the Humvee’s driver’s seat. I got in on the passenger side.

Murphy looked at me. “It’s do or die now, buddy. You sure you wanna do this?”

I shrugged. “You know, in this armored Humvee, we can probably drive around here a bit and maybe draw some of the infected away from the hospital. You know, give Steph and the others a chance.”

Murphy shook his head, but didn’t look at me. Without a word, he slammed his door shut, catching the attention of all the nearby infected.

“Damn!” I quickly yanked my door shut as Murphy cranked the starter.

The Whites ran at us from all directions.

As soon as the engine fired, Murphy
floored the accelerator and we raced away from the hospital.

We ran over one bump, then another. I knew what those bumps were, but put the thought of it out of my mind and focused on the clear pavement ahead.

The Humvee shuddered with the impact of an infected body running into the side at full speed. A few found a grip on the rear and were trying to climb on. The infected on the side slid away as Murphy pushed the truck to go faster.

When we hit clear asphalt, Murphy ran the Humvee up past forty and said, “Null Spot. Heh, heh, heh.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean? Null Spot.”

“You’re all kind of whited out, man. It’s like you’re not there. Like a spot with nothing in it. Null Spot.” Murphy’s big laugh filled the vehicle.

“Whatever.”

“Null Spot. You and your stupid superhero shit. Man, did you watch too many
Star Wars
movies as a kid, or what?”

I said, “I just thought we might be able to help them, that’s all.”

Murphy changed the subject with a hard swerve. The Humvee almost hit a curb. At the last second, Murphy angled back for the center of the street.

“What the fuck, man?”

Murphy said, “Dude, did you see that?”

“What?”

“That White was right in front of me and he jumped out of the way. So I tried to get him anyway. Heh, heh, heh.”

“Maybe he was smarter than the others.”

“I think he did it on purpose.”

“Whatever.”

“My mom always said, ‘Never trust Whitey.’”

“Murphy, does anybody actually think you’re funny?”

“Everybody but you.”

“Did she really tell you that?”

“No, man, I’m just fuckin’ with ya.”

Without warning, Murphy slammed the brakes hard. The Humvee skidded to a stop. He threw the transmission into reverse and mashed the accelerator to the floor.

“God damn! You drive like shit!” I pushed myself away from the dashboard and back into my seat.

“That bridge over the highway back there was clear. I think we can get across.”

The infected were swarming up behind us. “Hurry!”

The brakes locked. Tires skidded again. More infected pounced on the Humvee.

“Shit!”

“Zed, don’t worry, man. They can’t get inside.” Murphy turned the Humvee and maneuvered between the cars on the road leading to the bridge.

The infected above us beat loudly on the roof.

Murphy looked over at me, then laughed. “Heh, heh, heh.” He slammed the brakes hard, and a body rolled off the roof and down over the hood, just as he pushed the accelerator again. The Humvee bounced over the body. We crossed over the bridge.

“I’ll get the others off on the next turn. Heh, heh, heh.”

The further we rolled into east Austin, the thicker the smoke got and the fewer infected we saw. Those that we did see were headed away. Our hitchhikers chose to join them. They were all brain-fried monsters, but they still knew enough to fear the fires that were burning their way across the eastern half of the city.

My phone buzzed and I gave it a look to see who was calling. It was a text message from Amber. I smiled.

Murphy said, “Man, you’re worse than a teenager.”

“It’s Amber.”

“She was the cute one, right?”

I shrugged.

“How many women is that?” Murphy teased. “Player Zed.”

I ignored him.

Amber:
Are you there, Zed?

Me:
Yup. What’s up?

Amber:
Are you at Murphy’s mom’s house?

Me:
No. We got hung up.

Amber:
Anything bad?

“Murphy, Amber just asked me if anything bad happened.”

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing yet.”

“No point in sugarcoating it. I have a feeling we all need to get used to bad news.”

Me:
Jerome got shot.

Amber:
Oh no. Bad?

Me:
He’s dead.

No response
.

Me:
How are things there? You guys sitting tight? Any news?

Amber:
Tense : (

Me:
What happened?

Amber:
One of the guys, Darren, I think, is infected.

Me:
What happened?

Amber:
He was lethargic for a while after you left. Nobody thought much of it but then he started acting weird. Now we think he’s infected.

Me:
Did you take his temperature?

Amber:
We don’t have a thermometer. They locked him in one of the dorm rooms. After they locked him in he screamed crazy gibberish for a while. He’s quiet now. Mark is sure he’s infected. But he has a gift for certainty.

Me:
Those kind of people worry me.

Amber:
Me too.

Me:
Maybe Darren couldn’t take it all and just went nuts. Maybe all he needs is a Valium.

Amber:
Mark wants to shoot him but nobody wants to open the door and go in. Wilkins is against that but again, nobody except Wilkins wants to open the door to find out for sure. Every time Wilkins brings it up, Mark goes ballistic.

Me:
Not good.

Amber:
I think Mark is really insecure. I don’t think he’s handling all of this very well. I think he and Wilkins are going to have it out at some point.

Me:
Why do you say that?

Amber:
It’s like every time they talk, Mark seems less respectful, more assertive. He doesn’t want to be a team player. He wants to be in charge.

Me:
What did he say, exactly?

Amber:
Mostly it’s subtle stuff. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m just worried.

Me:
I don’t know what to say.

Amber:
You don’t have to say anything. I’m just telling you because I need somebody to talk to.

Me:
What about Marcy and Felicity?

Amber:
Felicity has been sleeping on the couch in the lounge most of the afternoon.

Me:
She’s not infected, is she?

Amber:
No, she’s just tired. Marcy is following Mark around like she’s a puppy. I’m embarrassed for her.

Me:
Sounds like junior high for grown-ups. I’m almost glad we got evicted.

Amber:
Except for Jerome, I guess.

Me.
Yeah.

Amber:
Yeah.

Me:
Well, like I said before. Wilkins is a good guy. He’ll keep it all under control.

Amber:
I hope.

Me:
Can you do me a favor if you’re not doing anything else?

Amber:
You saved my life. You know I will.

Me:
You know that stuff I talked about? That stuff about downloading whatever we could about farming, and solar power, you know, anything about how things work, or how to treat people when they’re sick. Anything about survival.

Amber:
Yeah.

Me:
Could you download as much as you can from the internet, please?

Amber:
Sure. I’ve got a 64 gig flash drive. I can save it there. How will I get it to you?

Me:
We’ll work something out. I’ll talk to you later on, okay?

Amber:
Okay. Bye.

Murphy said, “Man, don’t look so down. What’s going on over there?”

I told Murphy about the conversation.