Barely Alive (13 page)

She covered her mouth with her hands. She spoke through her fingers. “And that’s going to happen to you?”

A harsh reality swept over me. “Yes. It will. But I don’t want it to.” And now it will happen to James, too. If I handed Heather over, we still wouldn’t be saved. I tugged on the door.

Lights hummed above us. The door clicked shut, eerily loud in the silence. A soundtrack for my day-to-day life would be awesome. The silences and then sudden noises, off and on, irritated the crap out of me. An awesome explosion of Metallica into the air would be sweet. My dad liked Metallica. Who didn’t? In the moment, I think I could’ve forgiven Dad, hugged him, asked him if I could visit. Oh, well…

The building was set up like a large square tube. The rooms on the periphery of the hall were offices, cramped together for maximum use. The inner island of rooms were labs – oxygen, propane, other gases, water, ventilation and waste had a central column through all the floors.

We didn’t quite need labs yet. A place to hide would be sufficient until I found a scientist or research assistant to help us. If there were any alive. I crossed my fingers for Dr. Duncan, but at the rate my luck was running, I’d be grateful for someone who knew the difference between human tissue and nonhuman tissue.

Down around the first corner, hell I had no idea where I was going, we turned and faced a waiting room style set-up. Mustard and olive colored couches with flattened cushions separated the area from the hallway. Shag rugs and low lying tables littered with science magazines completed the horrid scene.

Heather stopped by the longest couch and ran her fingers along the back, staring at it with longing. “I would love to take a break. Do you think we can?”

No.
But at the same time, I didn’t know what else we could do. “Let’s do a quick run through to make sure no one’s here and then we can, okay? I just don’t want any surprises.” Plus, I was hungry. I needed something and if we were near a storage unit, I could maybe eat something that they had waiting for dissection. Yuck, although I had no idea what formaldehyde would do to me. Maybe preserve my tissues better.

I laughed and Heather looked at me with worry. I shoved my hair from my face. “Sorry.”
For being slightly crazy. And for wanting to lick you. And for…
well, the list was endless really.

We walked the entire hallway and didn’t find another body on the floor. For warning, we set up boxes in front of two stairwell doors. They’d be knocked over by anyone coming in. When we rounded the first corner again to the sitting area, Heather’s relief was palpable. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, okay?” She disappeared before I could agree.

I didn’t miss the toilet and its constant call at all.

Chapter 11

Of course I’d be stuck with the delicious sight of Heather sleeping and not be able to rest. Didn’t need to sleep was one thing, but I couldn’t even try. My brain hit hyper drive and all I did was think.

Heather had curled up on her side on the long couch. I’d taken a seat in the shorter, love-seat against the wall so I could see down both hallways. Hadn’t found any food, but I’d survive. I hoped.

She didn’t talk to me. Just stared at me until her eyelids eventually closed and her breathing had slowed. A half-inch thick chunk of hair fell across her cheek and I itched to brush it from her face.

On her the shorts were baggy and the shirt was on the tighter side, but thick enough it wasn’t see-through. That would’ve been my undoing. She’d washed her face in the bathroom and devoid of makeup, her skin’s true beauty showed.

I preferred au natural girls. Not hairy legs and arms, of course,
sick
, but no makeup, no pretense. And I was finding I liked the lack of bras for the smaller chested ones. A lot.

About midnight the lights turned off with only a single light on at each corner. A timer. Eased the nervousness in my stomach enough I could think clearer. But the seconds ticked by, and I painfully catalogued each small breath or movement or shift Heather made.

She’d never see me for myself. I was a freak to her. She’d never be like me. I hoped there was a chance for a cure, but I couldn’t hold my breath. And if there were, what if I was already too far into the change?

I had approximately ten weeks left. She had as long as she could stay out of someone’s jaws. If we stayed together, those jaws could be mine.

I stopped watching her around three. How much torture did I need to inflict on myself? Not that much. Hell, I was already dying.

The lights ticked on at four.

A stack of boxes toppled over at five.

I jumped up and grabbed Heather in a cradle hold. She had the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut, but her eyes flew open. I moved to stand between a fake palm tree and a five-drawer filing cabinet.

Heather tapped my shoulder and I put her down. She shifted behind me and adjusted her clothes. Did she have any underwear on? Hmm. I shook my head.

Grumbling reached us from the direction of the stairs we’d come up. Stutter steps, like limping, headed our way.

A zombie would smell Heather. I sniffed to test the air. Yep, she was heavenly, but there was another scent there, too, of lavender and Old Spice. Freaky combination. Like a man dipped in his wife’s underwear drawer.

Keys jingled and a man came into view, dragging a woman’s body.

I pushed Heather into the wall and pointed at her. She nodded. Of course she’d stay. She didn’t want to be a meal for anyone.

Even when I stepped into the open, the man didn’t see me. His shoulders heaved. Was he eating her? The sound of my steps was silenced by the rugs. He laid her body down and ran back the way he’d come. More jingles, pitters of his feet as he ran down the hall and locked each door.

He came back but behind me and stopped when he spotted me. His gasp was more of a sob. Tears had mingled with the beard on his face and he’d shoved his glasses onto his head. Keys hung from his fingers. His shoulders slumped. He stepped back from me.

I looked between him and the body on the ground which twitched.

The man swiped at his cheek with his wrist and lifted his chin, meeting my eyes. “Are you going to eat me now?”

I snorted, a bit affronted. “Of course I’m not going to eat you. If I was, you’d be dead already.” I jerked my head toward the woman on the ground. “She’s gonna eat you though, if we don’t do something.”

The situation was impossible and he knew it. He watched the woman, her long blond hair trailing down her back as she rolled to all fours and worked herself to her feet. She had more grace than the cheerleader had and her eyes matched mine – sharp and clear without the glaze. She wasn’t one of the dead ones which was something. A step toward the man and another.

She caught Heather’s cross scent and stopped, confused.

The man couldn’t do anything – he was like a hamburger. I rolled my eyes and stepped in front of her. “I know, they both smell good, but I need you to focus on me, okay?”

Her eyes strayed between me, the man, and Heather, but she returned to me and licked her lips. She struggled to speak. “Okay.”

I couldn’t hypnotize her but I could try to dig into her deeper conscious and appeal to the human still lingering in the body. I held my voice at the calm level and tried to remember the words Dominic had used. “The hunger is going to start hurting soon, but you mustn’t eat him or her. We’ll get you some food. You need to concentrate. There’s no reason to hurt them. You’re stronger now, smarter, and you can see that I’m right, correct?” I gazed into her eyes two inches below my own.

She blinked. “You are.”

Over my shoulder, with my eyes holding the woman’s gaze, I asked the man, “What’re your names?”

“
I – I’m Dr. Travis Duncan. I work here in the research facilities. That’s my wife, Connie.” His voice trailed off.

I found him. My relief erased the bitter taste of stress in my mouth.

Heather whispered to Dr. Duncan. “Come over here. Let Paul take care of your wife.”

Her trust warmed me. I could fly, if I wanted to in that exact moment. But I lowered my voice and smoothed my words, nice and even to Connie. “Is that your name? Connie?”

She chewed on her lip and thought. A few moments passed heavy with expectations and she answered. “Yes.”

“
Would you like something to eat? We have some things that will make you feel full for a little bit.” I motioned to Heather who handed over the trail mix and a drink.

The woman tore into them without removing the wrapper. She sat on the couch and rocked back and forth as she chewed.

I remembered each and every bite after the change. Every sense was heightened – smell, touch, sight, scent… taste. Donuts, pizza, salad, spaghetti, sweet and sour chicken, every flavor had hit a level unfathomable to the human tongue. Each bite was like soaking in the food, devouring it with every pore of your body, then as the change progressed normal food tasted like dust leaving only the taste of meat as satisfying.

I shuddered with the memory. I’d give anything to taste a hamburger again. With fries. And ketchup –not my favorite– and yet, I wanted it so damn bad.

Dr. Duncan had joined Heather. I turned and motioned them forward. “She’s okay. We can talk.” The two humans sat on the couch on which I’d done my vigil and Connie and I claimed the other. We would be safe on the fourth floor for a little bit with the doors locked.

I waved between the newcomers. “You’re married, I get that, but what are you doing out so early? Don’t you know about the curfew?”

Dr. Duncan watched his wife, his eyes clouded. “Yeah, we went to check on a colleague. I didn’t want to leave her home alone. I talked her into coming with me. I said she’d be safe. And now…” He broke up. More sobs relieved him of his nearly dry face.

Ugh. Emotions.
Obnoxious.
Heather met my gaze and glared at me with a sharp twist of her head. I glowered back but bit off my “suck it up, man”.

Connie swigged the water and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. She worked her mouth and spoke with deliberate slowness. “What is going on?”

The doctor pushed his outburst to the side and leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees. He watched me, waiting for the answer to his wife’s question. They didn’t realize I waited, too. I had questions that would have to wait longer.

“
I’ll tell you what I know.” And I did, starting with the facts I knew, until the recent display at Heather’s adoptive parents’ house. “And when Dominic turned up at Heather’s parents’, all I could think about was getting away. He doesn’t want answers like we do. He has an agenda and we’re just weapons.” I pointed at Dr. Duncan. “He knows you. Has boxes with your name on them. I had to find you.”

Dr. Duncan pointed at the ground. “Dominic? Dominic Wyring?”

I tried to remember. “I think that’s his last name, yeah.”

He slapped his leg. “That little ass. I fired him about eighteen months ago for unethical behavior. He stole who knows how much of the supplies from the lab. I think he was doing his own experiments before he left campus.”

I stared for a moment. Some people were applicably smart, others were just book smart. Dr. Duncan was failing to impress me as the former. I categorized him as the latter. Great, maybe Dominic had been right about him. “Uh, Dr. Duncan, Dominic designed this virus. He’s the creator of your wife’s problem, mine, Las Vegas’s, hell, the nations. So, yeah, he did his own experiments.”

He drew his eyebrows together. “Okay. Well, what can we do? How can we fix this?”

“
Those are exactly the questions we need to answer.” I pointed at myself and Connie. “We’re both infected. You have two specimens with the disease.” I looked at Heather. “She’s immune. She cannot be infected. I’ve bitten her and exposed her to my saliva and she’s been injected with a syringe full of the stuff. Obviously she’s not dead and she’s not one of us, so she’s immune. Can you do something with these samples?”

His eyes lit up, like a hunter on opening day of elk season. “Can I do something? What
can’t
I do when you bring me the disease and the cure in such nice packages.” He stopped seeing his wife and me and looked over our heads as he spoke. “I’m going to need to measure everything. And take a record of everything you know. There are triggers and locks all along the way, and you might not know what will be helpful or not.”

Sherlock Holmes couldn’t be more cryptic. But at least he thought he could help us. I nodded as if I understood his jabbering perfectly. “That’s fine. We’ll do whatever you need, but your wife and I need to get some food or things are going to get ugly for you two.” Before the cow and pigs I’d been able to control my need, but after indulging, the hunger burned brighter, sharper. I’d fed the hunger and my metabolism wasn’t in the mood to wait.

Connie looked at Heather and licked her lips. I rested my hand on her arm. “Yes, she’s tasty, trust me. But that’s as close as you’re going to get.” To the doctor, I asked, “Is there a place with uncooked meat or live farm animals nearby?”

Dr. Duncan pursed his lips. His glasses had slipped down his forehead to rest on the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat. “The cafeteria is two buildings over. But if you need live animals, there’s a butchering company up the street from here. They get deliveries all the time.” He looked at his watch. “It’s Monday morning, so unless this disease stalled the delivery, they should have fresh livestock right now. If you hurry, you might catch them before they start disposing of the animals.”