The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire (28 page)

    She
had already ruled out going through the eyes, and she couldn’t just sever the
brain stem at the back of the skull without allowing the creature the ability
to move its head, an option that presented unnecessary risks.
She could
drive the weapon down through its mouth or throat, but that presented the
possibility of either spraying contaminants or damaging the equipment that held
the walker. A moment later, Natalie was struck by morbid inspiration.

    “Knife
is sloppy. I need something long and thin, like a screwdriver.” Natalie was
almost surprised at her own voice, though Mejhit didn’t seem to notice as she
stepped away to find a suitable tool.

    Natalie
was not accustomed to being this calculating, especially in regards to such a
gruesome task, but her position of power over the undead was exciting. Once
again, she felt as though her sudden change of character should be worrisome,
but she had no time to consider it further as the doctor returned with remarkable
quickness, a toolkit in her hands.

    Though
Natalie couldn’t deny that Mejhit had done exactly as she had asked, she
couldn’t help but wonder why the good doctor had a set of tools lying around so
casually within reach in the middle of a medical ward. Natalie cocked an
eyebrow inquisitively, but Mejhit’s face remained perfectly neutral. Answers
would wait, it seemed.

    Popping
the latches on the kit, Natalie found what she was looking for in the form of a
screwdriver with a rod nearly six inches long, resting neatly alongside a
hammer. Natalie removed both without a word, and with no further deliberation,
she set the driver’s tip to the zombie’s ear with one hand and swung down hard
with her hammer in the other.

    The
metal slid into the ghoul’s skull and through its ear canal with a remarkable
smoothness, punching through the eardrum and into its brain with ease. Not
satisfied that the job was through, Natalie gave the screwdriver another hard
slam with the hammer, and then another, until it was wedged tightly inside the
creature’s head.

    Giving
the monster another look-over, it was obvious that Natalie’s work was done; it
was dead. Everything had gone according to plan, until she made the mistake of
wrenching the screwdriver from the corpse’s skull. A slick, rancid slime
belched from the wound with a nauseating gurgle, and Natalie stumbled away from
the body to avoid the sudden stench. Try as she might, she couldn’t resist the
urge to dry-heave, and a moment later she was vomiting across the floors.

    Weakly,
she laughed aloud. She had made progress when it came to dealing with these
nightmares, but she had a long way to go before she was accustomed to the
assault on the senses that they posed. Natalie felt the cool touch of a wet
cloth at her cheek, and glanced up to see Dr. Mejhit offering her a rag to
clean up. The expression on her face seemed to be a cross between concern and
satisfaction.

    “You
almost had it, until the end there. Still, not bad. Good, actually. Very good.
Think you could do that again?” Natalie was unsure of if she was pleased that
she had managed to impress after all, or sick at the prospect of having to do
all of this over again. Feeling ill, she tried to fix Mejhit with a pointed
stare.

    “I
can, yeah. I kind of hope I’m going to be doing more than butchering your
leftovers, though.” It was a crude way of referring to the work that she had
done, and certainly a dehumanizing view, but it was true. Natalie wasn’t in the
mood to waste time on sugarcoating the situation, and while Mejhit did
momentarily look surprised, she made no attempt to berate Natalie. It appeared
they had an understanding of sorts.

    “If
you want more responsibilities, you’re going to need to learn how to handle
them. I don’t mind taking care of that, on two conditions.” Whatever respite
Natalie had been taking to recover from her nausea was cut short as Mejhit
began to move once more, wheeling the stretcher that held Natalie’s newest kill
over to a nearby table.

    “First
condition: you have to keep up. If you slow me, or any of my staff, you’re out
of here.” Natalie moved to give her consent, but she was cut off by Mejhit, who
had already finished unlatching nearly all of the straps that had held the
walker down.

   As usual,
Natalie was simultaneously impressed and concerned at the practiced ease with
which these grim tasks were carried out. How many bodies had come through here
before Natalie arrived in camp?

    “Second
condition: you do what you’re told, no complaints. You’re still going to be our
resident ‘butcher,’ as you put it, because that’s work that needs doing and
you’re able to handle it without passing out or having a breakdown.” For the
briefest instant, Natalie thought she saw Mejhit ‘s eyes glance at the puddle
of sick that Natalie had left behind, but she returned to her work immediately.
She grabbed the torso, and without prompt Natalie grabbed the legs, both
helping to hoist the corpse onto the workbench.

    Again,
Natalie attempted to speak only to be silenced by the older woman. A deep frown
began to form on her face, though she continued to assist where she could. The
table had already been draped with a black bag, and it was obvious that the
goal was to seal the zombie’s body inside. After a few moments of adjustment, the
work was done and Mejhit had returned her attention solely to Natalie.

    “Listen
to me now. I don’t need your consent. I don’t care about your agreement to the
job. You either do it or you don’t, and if you don’t, you leave. It’s that
simple. We don’t take breaks and we get paid garbage in rations and gear,
there’s no such thing as a day off, and you’re probably never going to get an
ounce of appreciation even once in this thankless shithole, but that’s what we
do.” Jerking her chin over her shoulder toward some unknown destination, Mejhit
began to lift the body from the table.

    Natalie’s
frown had shifted into a bitter smile, doing her best to imagine a world where
people in positions of authority weren’t also hardasses.
It just wouldn’t be
the same.

    
Following Mejhit’s lead, Natalie picked up
the other side of the body bag and set it back in the stretcher, the doctor
continuing to talk even as she pushed the corpse along. Wherever they were
headed, it didn’t appear to be a well-populated area. Even after a few minutes
of moving, Natalie had yet to see another worker, or even another body.

    In
fact, the only suggestion that this place was ever in use was the obvious care
that had gone into maintaining its cleanliness. Natalie chose to take that as a
good sign, that perhaps they had been suffering fewer fatalities lately and so
had less need for this much room.

    After
all, it had been some time since the initial outbreak; it wasn’t unreasonable
to believe that the camp had been making at least some progress with how to
deal with this disaster. Gleaning what she could from the doctor’s orders, it
certainly appeared as if they had found a rhythm in their work, even if they
were shorthanded.

    Eventually
they found themselves backed against what appeared to be some kind of loading
area, complete with heavily reinforced bins already loaded into the back of a
massive truck. As Mejhit brought the stretcher alongside one such bin, Natalie
noted the sheen of frost across its lid. This was where the body was being
taken, and that realization swept away her earlier hopes that things had been
improving.

    Outwardly,
Natalie continued to assist in loading the corpse into its icebox without
expression, but inside her concern was mounting. The box they were opening now
was at the front of the truck, but behind it was easily a dozen more. Already
inside their bin were five other bags, stacked two wide and three high, and it
looked as if each box could accommodate six total guests. Clutching at the weak
hope that it might not be as bad as she thought, Natalie turned to the doctor
the moment the corpse was loaded.

    “What
exactly are we doing here? I mean, obviously we’re taking care of the body, but
why the truck? Why all the boxes?” Natalie was pleased that her tone continued
to come out even and cool, in spite of her nerves. Being able to fake casual
sanity was a talent she suspected she was going to need, if things continued
the way they had been.

   “Research,
or so we’re told. The center camp, beyond the inner ring, has a separate
medical facility that performs its own duties. One of those duties is hunting
for the way to finish this outbreak once and for all, and to do that, they need
specimen. We usually need to deliver once a day.” Mejhit nodded her head at the
body-filled truck, leaving no wonder to what she meant. If she was right, that
meant they were hauling nearly a hundred corpses out of this building daily.
Things
have not improved. Christ, things have not improved at all.

    “Which
reminds me. Every once in awhile, we’ll get orders to ‘prepare’ the bodies in
certain fashions. Most of the time, that means severing the brainstem at the
base of the skull, to try and keep the brain as intact as possible. Other
times, they get a little more creative with their requests. That’s what the
toolkit is for. Don’t bother asking questions; I don’t know the answer and they
won’t say. Just do as you’re told.” Natalie had to take a moment to digest
that, suddenly unsure of what bothered her more: the number of deaths or the
seeming normality of being asked to mutilate corpses for research.

    “But…
what about their families? I know some people are probably fine with doing what
they can to help end all of this, but there’s gotta be folks out there who want
a proper burial for their loved ones.”
Or who have a serious problem with
somebody taking a hammer to mommy for science.

    
Mejhit’s shoulders slumped as Natalie
spoke, and she removed her mouth wrap and goggles with a sigh. For the first
time, Natalie was able to see how worn the doctor truly looked. Her face was
littered with premature wrinkles, a clear sign of a stressful life; if the bags
under her eyes were a tell, Mejhit probably hadn’t gotten a decent night’s rest
in quite some time, either.

    “Natalie,
think about it. You seem like a bright enough girl. How much do you think those
people really care? About us, and our complaints? Surely you noticed the
guards, always present and ready to put us down like dogs. Or the supplies?”
That drew a wry laugh from Mejhit, though it was hollow and made Natalie
shiver.

    “We
haven’t gotten actual gear once since all of this started. Anything and
everything that could be of use goes right through the inner gates and to the
VIP section. You saw my staff; we don’t even have the basics. No, they gave us
a wall to hide behind and the promise that they’re toiling away to return all
of our lives to normal. As far as they’re concerned, they did their part.
They’re heroes, and anybody who wants anything more can go fuck themselves.”
Mejhit took careful care to enunciate every last word of her rant, the fatigue
that had plagued her a moment before now replaced with frustration.

    Natalie
couldn’t say she disagreed with the doctor’s emotions. She’d had no idea that
there were separate medical wings for the inner and outer rings of the camp,
but that went a long way toward explaining why this place had looked as
ramshackle as it did.

    “Don’t
they let people in to the center ring, though? Marco mentioned something about
people getting their assignments being able to move through.” Natalie realized
that Mejhit would likely have no idea who she was talking about, until she
noticed the look of amusement on her face.

    “Marco
Mercado, BJ’s loudmouth? He told you that?” Mejhit chuckled dryly, more from
exasperation than mirth. “If you’ve met the man then I don’t think it should
come as a surprise that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Nobody gets
brought inside unless they have connections. End of story.”

    It
hadn’t occurred to Natalie that Marco might have been wrong. More intriguing
was that Mejhit had not only known who Marco was, but was seemingly familiar
with the whole band. For being just a simple search-and-rescue team, BJ’s gang
was strangely well known. She had even known more about them than Natalie had,
which had been unexpected.

    Mercado,
huh? I should probably try and remember that, for reference if nothing else.
Natalie had been surprised at learning
Marco’s last name, more because she could have sworn it was something she
already knew than anything else. After a few days of traveling together, it
seemed like information she would have picked up on.
I guess when you’re
skulking around trying not to get slaughtered, going beyond more than a
first-name basis just doesn’t seem that important.

    
Another thought came to Natalie as Mejhit
donned her protective gear once again. She had said that nobody was let through
into the inner ring, but if that were true, there were countless other people
that weren’t accounted for. As packed as the outer ring was, it was only a
small fragment of the population that should have been present; the city had
been densely packed before the outbreak hit. Natalie grimaced at how high the
death toll must truly be.

    The
walk back to the medical facility’s main rooms took time, and through it all,
Natalie tried to puzzle out what had happened. This outpost was located in the
middle of the city, and if she remembered BJ’s map from before correctly, there
wasn’t another settlement of any decent size for miles. Yet, from the
population she had already seen, there couldn’t have been more than a few
thousand survivors taking refuge here.