The Cured (20 page)

Henry smiled to himself in the dark. He pushed off, feeling the brisk wind press into him with a green, new washed smell and watching the light of the City reach out and pull him in.

Twenty-four

The group, even with their bikes and trailers of supplies, was dwarfed by the massive cement barrier. As they drew closer to it, the light from the City disappeared behind it. The gate looked devoid of people until Henry entered the tight circle of cold, stark white light where the highway met the Barrier.

“Halt!” came a voice from above him. Henry stopped, the others pulling close together behind him. “Come forward into the light please,” continued the voice. Henry squinted up into the light but he couldn’t see anything. He stepped farther into the circle. The others pressed in beside him.

“Is this all of you?”

Henry glanced around. “Yes,” answered Melissa.

“You have weapons?”

“A shovel and uh– a crowbar I think,” said Henry. A soldier dropped down from a ledge out of view. He was carrying a gun, but his attitude was casual.

“You coming to stay or just passing through?” Another soldier appeared from behind him and began circling them, inspecting their gear. Henry heard Rickey’s breathing behind him speed up and rasp.

Vincent shook his head. “We aren’t sure. We were– sick. But someone tranquilized us and when we woke up, we were okay again. She left a note that told us to come here. A Dr. Rider?”

Henry watched the soldiers exchange a rapid glance. “You were Infected? How did you survive this long?”

“Maybe they were Cure camp runaways Steve,” said the other.

“It’s a really long story,” said Melissa, “and as you can see, we aren’t doing so hot. We just need a place to stay for the night. If there’s paperwork or interviews or whatever, we’ll do them, but I’m dead on my feet.”

Henry glanced around at the others. The bright light on the gate didn’t do them any favors. The ridges of their brows and cheeks, the jutting blades of their noses cast deep shadows where there ought to have been rounded skin, raised scars that ought to have been smooth, protruding skull caps that ought to have been softened by hair. He thought of how close they had come to dying, how close he had come. He shuddered and turned back to the soldier.

“You’ll have to stay in the barracks for tonight. And your bikes and supplies will have to stay with us.”

Rickey started to protest. The soldier held up his hand. “I know how that sounds. You probably had a lot of trouble getting these supplies. I promise that no one will touch your bikes, but we have to keep our people safe too. I know a person’s word probably doesn’t seem to mean as much to you as it did before, but that’s how things work in the City. If you want, you can turn around and find a camping area for the night and come back in the morning. We won’t stop you. But you sure look like you could use a night in a warm bed and some decent food.”

There was a deep clanking sound and the metal gates opened slowly. The road behind the gate was quiet and lit by street lamps. There was a large brick building nestled against the Barrier, it’s windows brilliant with electric light and someone’s music floated out toward them. Henry felt like crying with relief.

The soldiers walked through the gate without bothering to look back at them. Henry turned around and looked at the others. “What do you think?” whispered Molly, her eyes fixed on the gate, her body leaned forward as if it had already decided for her.

“It’s a fair deal,” said Melissa, glancing at Rickey.

“If they hold up their end,” said Rickey glumly.

“It doesn’t matter if we go in tonight or in the morning, we’re still going to have to let them search the supplies,” said Henry, “and I’d honestly rather sleep in a bed if I can.”

Pam was already walking up to the gate, her face streaming with tears. “Where are you going, Pam?” hissed Melissa.

She turned around. “I don’t have to think about it. I can be home in a few minutes if I want to.
Home
. What is there to discuss?” She followed the soldier through the Barrier. Henry shrugged and followed her, not bothering to see if the others were coming or not. He’d see them sooner or later either way.

The talkative soldier shook Henry’s hand as the other gently took his bike and wheeled it away. “What was your name?” said the soldier.

“Henry.”

“Nice to meet you Henry. Name’s Steve. You got family here too?”

Henry shook his head. “I think Pam’s the only one expecting to find anyone.” He looked around him at the bright electric lights, tilted his head toward the rock song sliding out the barracks window. He looked at the soldier. “How is all this possible?”

“You mean the City? Or the electricity?” asked the soldier scratching his chin.

“All of it. The Barrier, the City, the electric. Jesus, you’ve even got a working television station.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, kind of makes the outside look pretty basic, huh? The electricity did go down for a while in the middle of the Plague, but the plant never got overrun or anything. Most everything just needed people to flip it back on. Don’t get me wrong, it took a while, because we didn’t really have anyone who knew exactly what to do. But after about six months and some good luck, we got it going again. Kind of been learning how to make things run again since then. The electric was always priority one though. We needed it for everything. It took a lot longer to get what limited phone lines and towers we have working again. Dunno why. But that’s the reason for the television station. It didn’t really get too damaged and we still had people who knew how to run it. The head honchos thought it was good for giving out orders or issuing attack warnings. Once the electric was restored, it was easy to make sure everyone had tvs. I mean, it’s not like they’ve ever been scarce. Turns out more people had tvs when the Plague hit than they had radios.”

“But so fast…” murmured Henry.

“Not really. It’s been almost a decade. It’s not like we had to invent anything. Everything’s just lying around ready to be turned on again. The real problem’s the stuff we’ve run out of. Medicine, batteries, wood planks, gasoline. We’re just starting to figure out how to make new stuff now.”

Henry felt dizzy as the length of his illness dawned on him again.

“Listen to me, going on and on. You folks are tired and hungry. Come on inside, forget about all that stuff. There’ll be time later for history lessons.”

Steve led him into the building. “Sarah will get you set up for the night, I know you’ll be comfortable. I’ve got to get back to the Barrier.” He shook Henry’s hand one more time. “Everything’s going to get better from now on. I mean, it’s never going to be what it was, but it sure is a heck of a lot better in here than anything out there.”

Henry nodded with a tight smile. He turned to see where Pam had gone. She was talking to a young woman who was nodding sympathetically and patting Pam on the back. Henry hung back until they were done. He heard the others filter in, Rickey already had a wrinkled cigarette hanging from his lips, looking far calmer than he had just moments earlier. He saw Henry and grinned. “Homegrown,” he said, holding up the cigarette. “Shhh, not supposed to tell anyone though.”

Henry smiled and shook his head. The building was warm and filled with the quiet bustle of people, something Henry hadn’t heard in almost a decade. He sat in a plastic chair, waiting to be told where to go, while the others milled around in the hallway. He realized how tired he actually was and drifted in and out of a doze as he sat.

Molly shook him awake. “Henry, they’re getting us dinner but we have to see the doctor first.”

Henry yawned and rubbed a bleary eye. “A doctor? That’s good news though.”

“They’re afraid to feed us until then.”

“Are you nervous? Want someone to come with you?”

Molly shook her head quickly, but she started to cry and clutched at the dusty purple glove over her hand.

“I can come with you if you want. Stop them from doing anything you don’t want them to do. Or Melissa or Pam if I’d make you more nervous.”

“Did it look really bad to you this morning? I didn’t think it looked so bad, did you?”

But Molly’s arm had smelled so badly that morning that Henry’s eyes had watered. And the glove’s empty fingers had been filled with fluid. He didn’t know if he should lie to make her feel better for a few more minutes or prepare her for the worst.

“I don’t know Moll. I’m not a doctor. I just hope I didn’t make anything worse.”

“What if I have to lose it?” she sniffled.

“They aren’t going to do anything that major unless they have to. They’ll do everything they can to fix it first.”

Molly led the way slowly down the hall. “Maybe it would be better if you did come. You know, to tell the doctor what it looked like before.”

They stopped in a carpeted classroom where the others were sitting or lying on the floor.

“Okay,” said Henry, “we’ll go together.”

The doctor finally arrived, just as Henry was beginning to drift off again. He paused as he stood in the doorway, talking to another soldier. “Uh, don’t you think a Cure doctor would-”

The soldier shook his head. “They’re all still out. Due back by tomorrow. These folks need treatment today.”

“But I’m not familiar with– with people in their condition. I just do well checks for you guys.”

“Did you go to medical training?”

“Of course.”

“Then you are the most qualified person here.”

Henry hoped he was the only one who had overheard the conversation. The doctor entered the room with a cheerful smile.
At least he’s good at faking it,
Henry thought.

“Okay men, we ought to have this over with quickly. Get undressed and form a line,” said the doctor.

The others glanced at each other, confused. Henry watched them with new eyes. They had shaved themselves bald to get rid of the lice and matted hair and gore. Their faces were all bone and shadow, androgynous in their want. Even the shape of their bodies was the same, absent of hips and breasts and bellies, just a string of bones balanced atop one another in a long line from foot to crown.

The soldier nudged the doctor and whispered in his ear. The doctor blushed and Henry saw Melissa and Pam blush as they saw it. Molly was still chalk white with worry.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Ahem. Sorry about that, Officer Smythe tells me there is another exam room ready, we can see you one at a time. Let me start with– you.” He pointed to Vincent and walked out of the room.

Molly and Henry were last, going together for Molly’s sake. The doctor looked shaken even as they entered the brightly lit room. Henry guessed that it was harder to act unfazed than the doctor had imagined.

“Oh,” said the doctor, “are you together? I thought we were going one at a time.”

Henry held Molly’s good hand. “I’m just here to help. I’ll leave after you look at Molly’s arm and you can finish her exam.”

The doctor nodded and Henry watched him swallow as Molly lifted up her purple gloved hand. He gently cut off the glove with a pair of surgical scissors and unwrapped the gauze. Something about seeing the tray of clean and shining instruments made Henry immensely relieved. Surprisingly, the doctor didn’t even flinch when he looked at Molly’s black hand. It was even darker and more twisted than Henry remembered. The stumps looked smaller. Henry couldn’t tell if they had just shriveled more, or if some of the skin had actually fallen away.

“Can you fix it? Will you have to cut it off?” asked Molly, squeezing Henry’s hand with all her might.

The doctor actually grinned. “This is something I can actually fix,” he said, “We just have to clean some of the dead skin off and give you some antibiotics. Oh but-” he glanced up from Molly’s hand at their faces. “Antibiotics are expensive now. Hard to make.”

“We don’t have anything! We’ve been sick. Slaves! We have nothing.” Molly cried.

“We’ll give you what we’ve got. Work it off, something. We’ll find a way,” said Henry grimly.

The doctor nodded. “I understand. We can bill it to the government and then you can work it off gradually. I’ll get the treatment set up and be right back.” He left the room and shut the door.

Molly looked at Henry. “You’d do that for me? Help me work it off?”

“Of course. I’m not going to let them take your hand off just because of– of money, or whatever they use now.”

“What about your little girl? Don’t you have to go after her?”

Henry nodded. “Yes, but I’m going to get help for that. And when I get back they can work me to death in payment if they want. For right now, we are all we have. You five are all the people I know in the world.”

“I’m not sure I can let you do this. I’m not sure I want to–” Molly began.

“I told you I wouldn’t stop you, but maybe you should wait a few days. See what the doctor says. Try on this new life for a little, before you decide you don’t want to live it. This world is bad, Moll, I’m not pretending it isn’t. But killing yourself isn’t going to make it any better. Just
try
, Moll. Take your turn. Then you can quit if you want to.”

The doctor returned. “The antibiotics are coming. The surgery I can do myself.” He handed Molly a pill and some water. “We’ve been reduced to rudimentary methods of sedation, but in your condition, this should be enough.” He guided her onto the exam table. “Just let that work, and when you wake up, your hand will be much, much better.”