The Cured (36 page)

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Authors: Deirdre Gould

Tags: #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: The Cured
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“Did the lab door lock when you closed it?”

“I didn’t check.”

“You still really fast at picking locks?”

Rickey sat up. “What are you talking about Henry?”

“You want Phil to suffer for what he did as badly as I do. More maybe. I can make it happen. But you have to help.”

“What are you going to steal?”

“Nothing anyone will miss. Are you going to help me or not?”

Rickey got up from the swing. “Let me get my tools,” he said.

Henry sat back and swung lazily back and forth, an unseen smile spreading over his face in the dark.

Forty-one

The large house was a crisp, tailored shadow against the street lights. Henry and Rickey tried not to stumble into the back door to the lab. There were no soldiers standing guard now, the house was just an empty box, another thick tombstone in the almost desolate City. Rickey fumbled with his tools, scraping the metal door and setting Henry’s teeth on edge. They had no light, batteries were too expensive, but Rickey said he could get the lights working in the lab and there were no windows for anyone to see them inside. The blanket around Henry’s shoulders made him sweat in the warm spring night, but he knew he’d miss it later. There was no help for it. He had to have something to cover it with. Even in an empty city, Henry didn’t want to risk being seen carrying a body over half the dark streets. Rickey gave the door a gentle shove and it clicked open.

“Wait here,” he hissed, “and keep the door propped so I can see a little bit.”

Henry pressed the door open farther to give Rickey as much light as he could. The lights flickered on within seconds and Henry slid inside, carefully closing the door behind him so no one would see. The smell hit him almost immediately.

“Pah! How could you say this was gradual? My eyes are watering.”

Rickey was holding his shirt over his face. “The freezer was turned on then. It’s been almost a week, those things warm up pretty quick. Is this even going to work?”

Henry nodded. “It’s fine, it’ll just be more convincing this way.”

Rickey stood in front of the shining silver freezer door. He hesitated. “Hard to believe we smelled worse than this just a few weeks ago.”

“Don’t remind me. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that this isn’t making me hungry though. I was scared.”

“You and me both, brother. I was really scared I was going to relapse or something too. I think I can definitely say I’m Cured now. You ready?”

“Wait, let me take a few deep breaths. It’s going to be even worse when we open the door.” They both forced themselves to breathe deeply and then hold it. Henry nodded and Rickey swung the heavy door open. There were four shelves on either side of the door, each holding a heavy plastic bag. There was another on a rolling cart in the middle of the warm and stagnant freezer.

“Oh God, there’s more than one,” said Henry.

“Maybe he doesn’t like grocery shopping,” said Rickey, trying to smile, but his face had gone very pale and his voice shook. “Who were they Henry?”

“I don’t know. Someone’s baby once though.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this. Maybe we should let them rest.”

“This isn’t any better Rickey. And however they got here, at least I’m going to give one of them a decent burial. They’re going to do one last good thing first though. They’re going to help me stop the devil.” He rolled the silver cart out of the freezer and closed the door gently on the other faceless bags.

“At least we won’t have to carry it on our backs,” Henry said.

“Where are we bringing it? And what are we going to do with the cart afterward?”

“We’re bringing it to the All-Work Station. Melissa parked the delivery truck there.”

“Oh no. No. She’ll kill us.”

“I’ve already talked to her about it.” Henry walked over to the wall and picked up a nicely bleached lab coat that hung near the door. “Take this and–” he looked around until he found a plastic face guard and a surgical mask. “These too. You’re going to play doctor in the morning. Come on, we’ll talk about it on the way. Let’s get out of here.” He pushed the cart toward the door.

“Henry, what about the cart– someone will know where we got it.”

“You and Melissa can drop it at my house. Let them find it. After tomorrow I won’t be going back there.” He rolled the cart through the door and waited for Rickey to kill the lights.

The cart rattled on the broken pavement of the City roads and Henry kept looking nervously around. But they avoided the residential areas and it was almost midnight by the time they reached the truck. No one was around to see them. They rolled the cart up the truck’s ramp and closed the rear door. Henry piled the bio-hazard suits and Rickey’s disguise in a far corner. Rickey found the interior light.

“Jesus, Henry, it’s moving,” he said and slid backwards, hitting the side of the truck with a dull thump. Henry looked over at the opaque white bag. It wiggled and bulged.

“This is going to be bad,” Henry said.

“What is it?”

“Maggots.”

“No, it was sealed, in a freezer.”

“A warm bag in a warm freezer, Rickey.”

“It’s not right,” said Rickey jabbing a finger toward the squirming bag, “They shouldn’t get to eat you if you’re in plastic. That’s why you get buried. To keep you safe from those things.” Rickey gagged.
What difference does it make?
Wondered Henry.
It would have gotten eaten either way. What does it matter whose belly it’s in?

“Maybe you should go have a cigarette while I do this.”

“You’re really going to open that thing?”

“I have to. This won’t work if I don’t.”

Rickey stumbled out of the truck and closed the door behind him. Henry took a deep breath. He rolled the cart sideways so that it touched the truck wall and then unfolded the blanket onto the floor beside it. He unzipped the bag. A gray mass of pulsing, curling mouths had covered it up to it’s chest. Only a few had made it up to the face. Henry had prepared himself to be revolted, to shove the thing quickly onto the blanket and fling the body bag with it’s seething, frothing mass of maggots away. But when he looked at the face, he could only feel a terrible sorrow. He almost recognized it. Neither male or female, just a face. But wrecked, broken long before Dr. Carton found it. Scarred and thin and stretched. A great blank with no identity. Like the woman in the snow from so long ago. Someone’s baby once. Undoubtedly Infected. Henry blinked away the blur in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was crying for the corpse, for missing the Cure and the world after that terrible madness had lifted, or if he were crying for himself for living long enough to wake up Cured. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but we still have work to do. He gently rolled the bag onto the blanket and pulled the plastic away. He rolled the body with its legion of companions into the blanket and tied it shut with old, dirty pieces of rope. The corpse started leaking through the blanket almost immediately. It stained the cloth as he lifted it carefully onto the cart. Henry looked at the spreading dampness.
Good,
he thought,
it’s scarier that way.
He pulled out on of the bio-hazard suits and spread it out against the wall of the truck. He turned it so the back faced him and made a thin slice down the back of one pant leg, not large enough to open until Phil put his leg in. Then he carefully folded it again and replaced it in its plastic bag. He did the same to the other suit, not knowing which one Phil would pick. He turned off the interior light and closed the truck door. He stuffed the body bag into the space between the spare tire and the truck undercarriage and then walked home with Rickey without speaking, saving his energy for a shower and climbing into bed.

Forty-two

“Remember, I’ll meet you at the farmhouse in two weeks,” said Henry, helping Rickey with the surgical mask.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” mumbled Rickey behind the cloth mask.

“What? Go to the farmhouse? The others will be with you. Of course, I’ll understand if everyone decides to stay here. Either way, I’ll be there. And either way, you won’t need to worry about Phil any more.”

“No. I mean, I don’t know if I can do
this
. Right now. What if he remembers me? He hurt us, Henry. All of us. I don’t want him to know I’m alive still. I don’t even want to see him again. Not ever.”

Henry put a hand on Rickey’s shoulder. “He’s not going to recognize you. I promise. He’s not in control any more. He can’t hurt any of us. I won’t let him. Trust me, this is the last time you’ll ever see him.”

Rickey took a shaky breath. “Okay. You better get into the station. I’ll take the truck around the corner for now.”

Henry nodded and started walking toward work. He turned around, “Hey Rickey! What did the zombie say to the prostitute?”

“What?”

“You can keep the tip.”

“Ha ha. It was supposed to be a
cannibal
joke idiot. A zombie joke just ruins the whole flow–” Rickey yelled after Henry. Henry chuckled and waved to him before smothering his cheerful mood and heading for the All-Work Station. The work bell sounded and the place cleared out.

“Sorry Henry, can you wait again?” asked Stephanie, “I’ll be so glad when this whole thing is over. I can’t believe that guy is late
again
. I just talked to him about it.”

Henry smiled. “Don’t worry, Steph, I’ll handle it.”

“Thanks. See you in a little bit. Amos wants us to start bringing seedlings up from the greenhouses for planting. Can you believe how fast the spring is flying by?”

He shook his head and smiled and Stephanie led the stragglers out of the station. He felt bad, not telling her. He’d thought about it, but she was young. Still optimistic. Still in love with the City. He didn’t want to destroy her happiness and security. Someday she’d realize she deserved more from the place she dedicated her life to. He hoped she’d understand why so many had left.

Henry paced the bare concrete. He hated waiting. He walked out to the office waiting for Phil or the delivery truck. He saw Phil sauntering down the road, content and lazy. Henry heard the delivery truck coming around the corner.
Perfect timing,
he thought with relief. But the truck was going too fast and bearing down on Phil who was still oblivious. Henry glanced at Rickey through the windshield.
He’s going to hit him,
Henry realized. For a bare second he thought about letting it happen. But that was too easy. Too fast. He opened the door and the flash of the glass caught Rickey’s eye. He slammed on the brakes and squealed to a stop just in front of the station a few feet from where Phil was crossing the street.
Good,
thought Henry,
now play it up Rickey.

He watched Rickey’s mask suck in over his bony nose as he took a deep breath. Then Rickey got out of the truck and walked over to Henry. “Is the grave digger here?” he asked in a loud voice. Henry watched as Phil noticed and began to pick up speed.

“Uh, yeah, that’s him coming down the road now.”

Rickey waited until Phil reached them. “Got a job for you. Governor says double pay.”

Phil’s grin stretched wider. “What kind of job?”

Rickey glanced over at Henry. “It’s got to stay secret. I’ll pay both of you, you’ll need two anyway.”

Phil ran a hand over his scarred jaw. “Secret, huh? Yeah, I think Henry and I can handle that, right Henry?” He elbowed Henry.

“Why secret?” Henry asked, squinting at Rickey.

“Cause it’s one of the people from the trial. Died of Plague last night. Governor doesn’t want to cause a panic.”

“The Plague?” said Henry, “No way. I’m not getting near anyone infected.”

“The guy’s dead Henry, how contagious can he be?” said Phil. Henry could practically see him counting the tokens he could make.

“Uh, actually, he’s really contagious. You can’t get anything on you. I’ve got bio-hazard suits for you.”

Phil slid a step back. He shrugged. “Eh, what’s the difference, I was immune last time.”

“So was this guy,” said Rickey in a low voice.

Henry glanced at Phil who was a little paler now. “We’ll do it,” said Henry, “but not for double. We want triple tokens and– and Phil, what else do we want?”

Phil’s grin returned. “We want a bottle of whiskey a piece. Not that homemade shit either. I know the hospital’s got some stashed away.”

“Fine, fine, just take care of it. And keep your mouths shut,” said Rickey, jabbing a gloved finger at both of them. “The keys are in the truck and the bio-hazard suits are in the front seat. We’ll expect the truck to be returned to the hospital this afternoon. No joyriding. Just do your job and get back, understand?”

Phil mock saluted and Henry nodded.
Good job,
he thought, wishing he could tell Rickey. They walked over to the truck while Rickey walked toward the hospital and out of sight. Phil tossed Henry the bagged suit and started pulling his own on.

“You’re a shrewd one,” he said, glancing over at Henry, “I wouldn’t have thought to ask for more.”

“Yeah, well if we’re going to risk our lives, we might as well make it worthwhile.”

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