Dead Soil | Book 3 | Dead World, page 3
part #3 of Dead Soil Series
“Hazel,” Jonathan called cheerily. “You have visitors, Hazel.”
“I told you,” a rough voice spoke softly from the form on the floor, “my name is not Hazel.”
Jonathan gave a nervous huff of laughter as he looked at Christine and Zack with reassuring eyes, begging for their forgiveness for the rudeness of his test subject. Christine couldn’t blame the poor creature. She would not be too happy to live in these conditions either. It made her rethink everything she thought this vaccine would do for her sister.
“Well, until you remember what your name is we’re gonna stick with Hazel I think. It suits you,” Jonathan tried to coax her out of her mood. “You know, because of your big, beautiful hazel eyes.” The smile remained plastered on his face, but he wasn’t fooling Christine. Beads of sweat broke out across his hairline revealing how nervous he was in the ex-zombie’s presence.
“Don’t mock me!” the woman screamed, her voice falling flat when it hit the padding on the walls. Her head snapped up angrily, her matted brown hair flying back.
Jonathan raised his hands in defense and took a step back toward the door. “I wasn’t mocking you. I was just trying to give you a compliment is all.” In that moment Christine realized just how young Jonathan really was. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-two, maybe twenty-three. She wondered where his family was, if they were still alive, what pain had he felt since the apocalypse started and who had he lost since then. These were the questions that always plagued her now when she was standing in front of another person. It was a side effect of the world she lived in, and she wondered if it was the same for everyone else too.
Christine turned back to Hazel and looked into her eyes. They were indeed hazel in color, but they were so much more than that. They were a mixture of her old self and her new self, the human she was before and the zombie she became. Now she was a hybrid, not of either world, an outcast, an anomaly. The green and honey swirls of her irises hinted to the beauty they once held, but they were marred with jagged red lines protruding from them and a slight cloudiness in the left eye. Her skin was a ghostly pale white with scratches maring it everywhere. They were in the process of healing but Christine was sure she would carry the scars of her former zombie life forever with her, on her face and in her heart.
“Hi, there,” Zack said, making sure he didn’t call her Hazel as Jonathan did. He folded his arms across his chest and shifted on his feet, attempting to look cool, calm, and collected but failing. Hazel was a force of nature who carried a heavy presence. She looked disheveled and wild and not quite human still.
Instead of responding to Zack’s awkward greeting, the mysterious woman lowered her head back down on her knees which were pulled into her chest, retreating back into her silent nothingness.
Without saying a word, Jonathan waved Christine and Zack out of the room and closed the door slowly behind him. He smiled nervously, sharp bursts of air flying from his flared nostrils. “That’s Hazel,” he said with a laugh.
“And she doesn’t remember anything? Nothing about being a zombie? Nothing about when she was a human before?” Christine had more questions now than she did before. The meeting had not brought her reassurance in the least.
“Come with me,” Jonathan said as he walked quickly down the hall away from Hazel’s room and back through to the small examination room. He shut the door behind him and waited for the beep of the automatic lock and then kept going, out of the exam room and down the hall, up the stairs, down another hall, through a door, and back into the bright daylight of the main foyer with all its grand windows. He took a deep breath in through his mouth and let it out through his nose. “OK, that’s better. No, Hazel doesn’t remember anything about her life before. She doesn’t know her name, where she’s from, who her family was, nothing. And she says she doesn’t remember anything about what she did while she was a zombie either, but judging from the strips of flesh stuck between her teeth and the blood that stained her enamel when we cleaned her up, I’d say it wasn’t good.”
Christine’s stomach gave a lurch. Suddenly, she was glad she was right there when Gretchen had turned, horrifying as it was. It meant her sister never had the chance to taste human flesh, to have to have it dug out from between her teeth when she came back to them.
“Really I shouldn’t have let you in there at all, but I thought maybe she would behave herself a little better if she thought she was getting another shot.”
“Another shot?” Christine asked with furrowed brows knitted together. “Why another shot?”
Jonathan shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Oh, Hazel gets a shot every day. If she doesn’t she starts to…well…revert back to her previous state.”
Christine took a step forward to close the gap between him, her blood boiling within her. “Are you telling me that this isn’t really a cure? That it’s just a Band-Aid for the day and my sister will have to live here and get a shot every single day if we want her to be human again?” Her voice rose in panic.
Jonathan took a step back and looked to Zack for help. Zack raised his hands and gave a small, crooked grin. “Hey, don’t look at me, man,” he said as he took a step away from the oncoming fray.
“Right now, it’s the best we’ve got,” Jonathan admitted reluctantly. “But,” he said, his voice going up an octave as Christine took another menacing step toward him, “But! But, hopefully your journal gives us some new insights and we can make it better.” He squeezed his eyes shut as if anticipating a punch to the face but it never came. When he opened his eyes again, Christine was storming off down the hallway back to the employee lounge they’d been given as sleeping quarters upon their arrival. “We have a dozen scientists working around the clock to—” Jonathan shouted reassurances after her until she was out of earshot. “Phew,” he exhaled as he hunched over in relief. “She is something else, man.”
Zack didn’t laugh along, didn’t agree, didn’t say anything but strode off in the same direction as his friend leaving the intern awkwardly by himself again.
“Guess I’ll get back to work then,” he said to no one.
IV
Olivia roiled and rolled on the dusty old couch, gripping her stomach and wailing in pain that no one could figure out. Carolyn blotted her sweaty forehead with a cool, damp cloth. She didn’t need a thermometer to tell her Olivia’s fever was dangerously high and climbing higher by the minute. They had nothing in the bunker to bring it down either. Mac searched their medical storage but it was woefully low. There was nothing in the way of a fever reducer to be found, not even a lousy Tylenol. It had been a while since anyone made a run on the surface. It got pushed to the wayside when all their food was supplied to them by the things they grew on the farm above. Olivia shook with a chill and then finally settled, though her face was still contorted in anguish.
Muffled in the background, the sounds of Lee screaming and banging on his door could be heard throughout the common room. Carolyn’s eyes kept flitting in his direction nervously. Why couldn’t they just let him out to attend to the poor girl? What would be the harm? She’d asked the question to the many bunker dwellers several times in the last few hours since Olivia fell ill. It was absurd the things these people came up with to ensure he stayed locked in there. What if he tried to finish off Rowan, like he was some cold-blooded murderer with a vendetta? What if he had lost his mind and goes on a killing rampage and they all die? Really? What if he purposefully gives Olivia the wrong medical help and takes her out and then himself in a murder-suicide situation? These are the real concerns people had and it made Carolyn want to knife them all herself. But a small voice inside her calmed her down and made her see reason. It reminded her that these people didn’t know Lee like she did, hadn’t seen him with Olivia for the better part of a year as they struggled to survive together. They didn’t know how much he loved that girl as his own and how he would do anything to protect her; anything. She knew that had to be the fuel behind this terrible situation, and now it threatened to burn him alive.
“How’s she doin’?” Mac came up and put a hand on Carolyn’s shoulder. She turned to look up at him from where she knelt next to the couch, her eyes turned down in hopelessness. Mac simply nodded his head sadly, his eyes closed in grief for the child he knew was going to die on his land.
“Mac,” Carolyn said, suddenly rising up and grabbing both his hands in hers. They were rough and calloused from years of handling farm equipment from dawn till dusk. “Please, you know Lee is the only medical personnel we have. He’ll know what’s wrong with her and what she needs to get better. We have to let him out.”
Mac’s little glossy eyes looked into hers intently. He took a deep breath and let his gaze drift down to the writhing teenager on his couch. His hands squeezed Carolyn’s as he went to silent war within himself. As if he were chewing something, his lips moved silently. “I don’t know. It’s not me who’s saying no, it’s the people.”
“But you’re their leader,” Carolyn said a little too loudly. A few heads turned from the pantry shelves they were working at, canning and organizing goods. She took a breath, closing her eyes to compose herself. “These people love you, Mac. They trust you. You can convince them that letting Lee out is the only way to save this little girl’s life.” She used the phrase ‘little girl’ as opposed to her name to instill guilt. Whatever worked to get Olivia the help she needed.
She watched as he pondered her words, turned them over in his mind until they made their way down to his mouth and he chewed the flavor out of them. Finally, he spoke again. “Well, what kinda human being would I be if I let this little lady die without even opening my mouth to try?”
Carolyn gave a little jump of joy, taking her hands from his and clapping them together. “Yes! Exactly! Thank you so much, Mac.” She threw her arms around his thick neck and squeezed. “Thank you so much. I know you can do it.” She released her grip on him and looked him right in the eyes. “I believe in you.”
Mac nodded his head and looked away, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink. “Yeah, yeah, it’s no trouble, really,” he brushed off her gratitude with a crooked grin and took a few steps out into the center of the room. “Everyone, listen up!” he said in a raised, but kind voice. It was the same voice Carolyn’s father had used with her when he called her home from the neighbor’s house as a child. “Go and gather everyone up and meet me back here. There’s something I want to discuss with ya’ll.”
It was obvious that a formal gathering didn’t happen often in the bunker. Confused glances were exchanged as everyone dropped what they were doing to go run and get the others for Mac. They were eager to hear what he could possibly need everyone for. No one looked disgruntled so Carolyn figured none of them suspected it had to do with Lee. After the initial outrage from some of the bunker dwellers who didn’t know the gentle giant as Carolyn and her group did, everyone pretty much carried on with business as usual; canning fruits, cleaning fresh food, organizing storage centers, whatever task they’d been assigned to when they came to the bunker their first day.
Once the entire group was gathered, all twenty-eight of them including Mac and Carolyn, even Olivia as she fought to keep her eyes open on the couch while her stomach took a break from relieving itself violently of all its contents. The only ones not included in the count were Lee and Rowan, because no one knew what would happen to either of them. Both held the other’s life in their hands.
“OK, I called ya’ll here to talk about Olivia,” he said, holding his hand down to the girl but not quite touching her. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb her if she was actually getting a little rest. “She’s very ill. We’re not sure why. All we know is she wasn’t bitten but she’s not getting better.” People in the group murmured to each other but Mac ignored it. “Now, I know my way around a horse or a cow but when it comes to people I’m no doctor. None of us are.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean overalls and puffed out his chest a bit. “The only person here with any kind of medical training is being held behind that door there.” He nodded to Lee’s steel door.
The murmurs started again, with more vigor this time. It was clear many, if not all, were not happy with where this meeting was going. Some shifted on their feet, folded their hands across their chests, rolled their eyes and clicked their tongues as they whispered to their neighbors. Carolyn wanted to shout for all of them to shut their traps. How could they be so selfish? How could they look at Olivia and the pain she was in and not want to do whatever they could to help her? She was only seventeen-years-old, for God’s sake! Her jaw clenched as she held her thoughts behind rattling bars inside her head.
“We need to let Lee out so he can take a look at this here little lady and determine what she needs to get better. If we don’t, well, I reckon she’s not going to make it much longer.”
Mac hoped to appeal to their humanity and the struggles they’ve all encountered trying to survive in this messed up, monster-ridden world. He hoped they would look Olivia in the face and realize she was worth putting their pride aside to save. He hoped in vain he realized as many stood their ground and shook their heads at each other.
Carolyn’s teeth ground together. Her fists clenched until her knuckles shone white. She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t hold her tongue. “Look at her!” she shouted. Several of the people jumped where they stood, jerking their heads to look at her as if she’d shot off her pistol. “Go ahead! Look her in the eyes and tell her you won’t save her. That you’re condemning her to die because you won’t open a stupid door to let the one person who can save her out!” One older woman with wisps of gray in her hair seemed like she was actually going to move forward to do what Carolyn ordered of them, but then when no one moved she rocked back on her feet and looked around nervously. “What is wrong with you people?!” Carolyn shouted, the tears gathering in her eyes. She waited for someone to give a nod of approval, a shift in stance that said they’d given in, anything. “You’re the monsters!” she yelled at them, her finger jabbing accusatory through the air like a blade. “Every one of you!”
Mac placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as they heaved up and down, every breath bursting forth from her like a gusting wind. “It’s OK, darlin’, settle down.” He patted her and then stepped in front. “She’s not entirely wrong, folks. Maybe you’re not monsters, but what kind of people would we be if we stood by and let this little girl die because of our own fear? Now, I believe this Lee, if let out, will only help her and he will not try to harm any of us.”
This seemed to get their attention and make the gears spin in their heads. A few leaned over to talk it over with the handful surrounding them.
“Oh, let the man out already,” the strapping Danish farmer shouted from a dark corner in the back. He was leaning against the rough-hewn wall casually, his arms folded and one foot crossed over the other. Everyone turned to look at him as if he carried some authority alongside Mac. “If he try to hurt anyone I will deal him.” His accent was thick but the message got across to each and every one of them. Many shook their heads in agreement finally.
“Yes? Yes!” Carolyn burst out with a jump. She turned to Mac and patted him excitedly on the chest. “They agreed. Let’s do it! Let’s let him out now.”
Mac took her hands in one of his and smiled. “OK. Let’s let him out.”
Behind the door, Lee still leaned into the cold hard metal, trying to make out what was being discussed in the common room without him. He never felt more helpless than he did in that moment, never except that terrible day when the zombies rose and his hopes and dreams fell with his family. There was nothing he could do but sit there and let his fate be decided for him.
Suddenly, there was a loud screech of steel as the door swung open and the warm glow of kerosene lamps flooded in. Lee squinted his eyes, having spent hours in the pitch darkness of his room. He scrambled to his feet and immediately headed out to find Olivia. A large hand slammed against his chest as a man equal to Lee’s size blocked his way, a battle axe thrown over his shoulder, his wheat-color hair braided down his back.
“Move. Please,” Lee growled under his breath.
The massive Dane stared Lee directly in his eyes, studying the green and gold swirls of his irises, as if he were trying to see straight down to Lee’s soul. He must not have hated what he saw down there because he took a step to the side and let him pass.
It was hard for Lee to break the gaze the Dane held on him. Even as he rushed to Olivia’s side on the couch he realized his head was turned to look over his shoulder at the hulking man. He was like a warrior from Norse mythology brought to life. He guessed if it came to his execution for the death of Rowan, it would be that guy swinging the axe across his neck. The very thought sent a chill down Lee’s spine. But then he saw Olivia and everything else faded into the background. He came to a sliding halt beside the couch and immediately started stroking back her sweat-drenched hair.
“Oh, Liv, what’s happened ta yeh?” he spoke softly in her ear.
She twisted a bit and moaned before answering, clutching her stomach. Her eyes found his and held his gaze, wanting to answer him but at the same time hide from his knowing eyes. She licked her dry, cracked lips. “It’s a—I think it’s a UTI,” she finally said, turning her eyes from his to twist and face the back of the couch.
Lee’s breath caught in his chest. That same fire and rage he felt at seeing Rowan on top of her came rushing back. Not only was the boy going to force himself upon her, he was going to kill her too. Immediately, he corrected himself. Olivia had wanted to go to bed with Rowan, had been going to bed with him for who knew how long. He hadn’t intentionally given her a urinary tract infection. That was a ridiculous thought. “I’m sorry,” was all Lee could think to say.
