Blood Day (11 page)

“Oh I don't expect it to bring them down,” said Flynn. “But each strike is a chink in the armor.”

“Underground newspaper,” said Mike. “Do we have enough people?”

“As many as you need,” said Flynn.

“The hell with this, Mikey,” said Dez. “You're not buying this bullshit. How do we know this bastard isn't worse than all the other bastards who want to kill us?”

Mike looked at Joshua Flynn, who just smiled. Mike shivered.

“Oh, you don't,” said Flynn. “And do not mistake me, Mr. Novak. No matter how bad my so-called brethren may appear...”

“Yes?” said Mike.

“I am far, far worse.”

“Fantastic,” said Dez.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” said Flynn. “I have a story idea for your first issue. It’s about the Revenants.” Mike and Dez looked up at him expectantly.

Flynn smiled, seeming to soak up their discomfort.

“I know how to kill them.”

Nine

“Things are going swimmingly, sir,” Viv said, speaking up to be heard over the machinery. She got up from behind the desk and walked to the door, closing it with a snap. She turned and smiled calmly at her superior, betraying no emotion. She'd gotten very good at looking into their faces. She hardly ever flinched any more. She sat back down behind her desk.

“As I was saying, sir. Everything is coming along fine. We should be up and running before you know it.”

“You needn't call me sir,” rasped the Rev. “You may call me Mr. Freen.”

“Mr. Freen,” Viv smiled. “How lovely.” She resisted the urge to scratch at the crawling feeling on her skin.
 

“The equipment has all been delivered, then?” he said.

“Yes. It is being installed as we speak. As you may be able to hear.”

“Of course I can hear,” he said.

“I mean no disrespect,” said Viv, her voice calm and serene. Her stomach churned.
 

“I apologize,” said Mr. Freen, closing his eyes. He was not completely bald like most of them were, but had a strip of downy hair that grew down the middle of his head. His face, though, was as smooth as the others. His nostrils flared as he exhaled. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

“I am late for my donation. Forgive me. I become so...testy.”

“No apology needed,” said Viv.
 

“How much do they estimate the facility will be able to turn out?” he said, seeming to be making an effort to keep his voice friendly.

“The contractor told me that we could purify up to 500 liters if we kept up on maintenance.”

The Rev stared at her for a moment. He swallowed before saying, “500 liters per week?”

Viv shook her head. “Per day.”

A change came over the Rev's face. Viv couldn't quite say what happened, but there did seem to be an expression there somehow. The gash of a mouth turned up somewhat. The eyes were not so cold. The nostrils flared again. After a moment, Viv realized it was happiness. Or perhaps relief. Satisfaction?

“I would very much like to see it when it is finished,” said Mr. Freen. “Will you send for me before you begin the first batch?”

“Of course,” said Viv.

“What a sight it will be to behold,” he said, near-reverence in his voice. “You are doing a great service, Ms. White. This will provide clean donations for the entire world before we are through. Centralized purification. So elegant.”

“Thank you, Mr. Freen,” said Viv. “It's nice to be useful.”
 

“I read your file,” said Mr. Freen, leaning back and regarding her, the eagerness draining from his demon-face. “I was very sorry to hear about your husband. Did they ever find him?”

Viv straightened, and forced her own face to remain calm.
 

“No,” she said after a moment's recovery. “They never did. He just wandered off one day. I haven't seen him since. I'm afraid he never quite recovered after the disappearance of our son.”

“Ah yes,” said Mr. Freen. “Dark times, those were. After the Annex, yes? Such dark, dark times. Luckily, we found better ways.”

“Yes,” Viv smiled. “Better ways.”

“Your husband,” said Freen. “He worked for us, didn't he?”

“He did,” said Viv. “Well, the government at the time. He worked for the CDC.”

The Rev put a hand to his chest. “Valiant work. They paved the way for our current way of life. Now everyone enjoys a disease-free existence. Your husband was a hero.”

“Thank you, sir, I appreciate that.”

Viv's cheeks hurt from smiling. She recalled seeing a sharp letter opener in a desk drawer. She imagined thrusting it into Mr. Freen's creepy eyes so he would stop looking at her. He watched the vein in her neck closely when he thought she wasn't looking. Not that a letter opener would have any effect on a Rev.

Finally, Freen stood and straightened his jacket.

“Going so soon?” Viv said.

“I'm afraid that I really must get to my appointment. I am in deep need of a donation.”

Viv went to the coat rack and took down a long, dark cashmere coat. She would not be able to afford such a coat if she saved for a year. She held it out for Freen to shrug into. He nodded at her.

“You and I will be working together, Ms. White. I appreciate your efficiency.”

“It's Doctor, actually,” said Viv.

“I beg your pardon?” said Freen, his hands at the buttons on his coat.

“Doctor White,” Viv smiled. “My name is Doctor White.”

“Ms. White,” Freen said, “there are no doctors. We don't need them.”

“Of course,” Viv said. “How silly of me. I'm just used to it.”

“I will check in with you next week,” Freen said. He didn't look back at her as he exited out the door.

“Shit,” Viv said. She made it to her chair before collapsing back. She put her head in her hands but she didn't cry. Why had she said that about being a doctor? It was all going so well before that. “Stupid,” Viv muttered.
 

She had been at her new job for over a week and had yet to do anything but sign for packages and meet future employees. So far she'd met three and reviewed paperwork on a dozen more. She tried to get out and inspect the construction, but the contractors politely asked her to stay out of the way so she didn't get hurt. As far as she could tell, walls were being knocked down to combine three wards into one massive ward. The machinery being installed consisted of giant shiny vats, each as big as her apartment, and lots of fat, thick glass tubing.

“How does this work?” she asked one of the contractors.

“You know I can't tell you, ma'am. They like to keep things secret.”

Viv peeked out of the blinds in her office to watch a man climb up on top of the nearest vat only to drop the glass tube he'd been holding. It shattered in a cacophony of breaking glass that tinkled long after the thing had struck the ground. This led to two men yelling and gesturing at the poor fellow standing up on top of the vat, scratching his head.

Viv closed the blind. Just as she'd sat down at her desk again to pretend she was busy, there was a brisk knock at the door.
 

“Come in,” Viv called.

“Ms. White?” said a woman in a delivery uniform.

“Yes?”

“Sign here, please.”

She left Viv with a large box. Viv looked to make sure the blinds were still drawn before taking out the letter opener and sliding it under the tape. Inside the box was another, smaller box surrounded by packing material. Scrawled in black marker were the words “PLEASE DELIVER TO FOREMAN.” Viv lifted the smaller box out, brushing off packing peanuts. With careful movements, she sliced the tape. She could always say she opened it by accident.
 

Inside the box was the most curious object she had ever seen. She lifted it out carefully. The bottom was a flattened bowl of shining brushed copper, covered by a glass dome. Coming out of the dome in various directions were a mishmash of tiny glass tubes that curled this way and that, within which could be seen wires and metal contraptions. An electrical cord trailed out the back, a tiny hole on the opposite side. Viv found a package of small syringes left inside the box.

“Oh my,” she said. She ran to the door and locked it.

It was the purification vat on a tiny scale. A model of what was being constructed at that moment on her ward. And by the looks of the cord and the inclusion of the syringes, it was a fully working model.
 

Viv carefully put the contraption back into the smaller box and stared at it. She shoved the big box into the corner. She tapped the letter opener on her desk for a long time, looking at the box. Making a decision, she gathered it under her arm, unlocked the door and walked out of her office.

She waved to a nearby contractor on her way out. He waved back, grinning.

She was not a praying woman, hadn’t been for a long time. But she prayed as she walked through the whitewashed hallway. She took the steps slowly so she would not trip. She held precious cargo. As she opened the door and cold sunlight hit her face, she knew she would be okay. She could get to her car. No one had seen her. No one would question her.

“What's that you've got there, girlie?” said a voice.
 

Viv froze. She'd forgotten about the guard, Sid. He came out of the guard stand and stopped behind her. She closed her eyes to try to compose herself, to make her face calm, but it wasn't happening. Her heart drummed fast in her chest and she realized with surprise that she wasn't scared.

She was angry.

She spun on Sid, who had an amused look on his fat pink face. Viv had known men like him. Janitors at the university who looked at her with disdain. Store managers who followed her around hoping to catch her stealing. Sid didn't see her. He saw her skin. And she had far too much to deal with to let this continue. It was time for him to see her. Really see her.

She walked toward him, closing the gap so quickly that Sid had to take a step back. She was nearly as tall as him and half as wide. She thrust a finger in his chest.

“Listen to me now, old man,” she seethed. “You think you know me. You think you can talk to me in the familiar way that you do. You think you have the right but you don't. You will treat me with respect, guard. You will call me Ma'am or Doctor or Dr. White. You will never, ever call me girlie or lady or missy or goddamn sweetheart. Is that clear?”

Sid hadn't looked away from her the whole time she had been talking. She felt the anger flare in her eyes.

“You are my subordinate and I am the administrator of the largest ward in the hospital. Do you know what that means, Sid?”

“No,” he said, sounding weak. Unsure. He was afraid.

“It means that if I say I want a guard replaced, he gets replaced. If I want your ass out on the street, I will damn well put it there. How long do you think you can survive with no job, Sid? Do you think getting fired will be a positive change at your age? How long before the Movers pick you up mistaking you for a junkie? HOW LONG?”

“I'm sorry!” he said, raising his hands. “I meant no disrespect!”

Viv remembered using the exact phrase only a half hour before. She hadn't meant it when she'd said it either. She narrowed her eyes.

“Don't speak to me again, Sid,” she said quietly. “Or I will end you. Understood?”

Sid took another step back and opened his mouth, then thought better and closed it, nodding.

“Good,” she said. “I'm going home early. I'm not feeling well.”

Sid nodded again, looking slightly relieved that their conversation had come to an end. She heard him mutter under his breath as she left. She thought she could make out the words
crazy bitch
, but she ignored him. She held the box tight under her arm and made her way to her car.

She was breaking the law. She stared at the box on the passenger seat. She didn't know how closely the Revs were guarding this secret, but she was fairly positive that she would not only lose her job, but would be arrested and treated just like the junkies they hauled off, strung out on Slack. They would slowly kill her.

Viv took a deep breath. She waited for her heart to stop racing. Then she started the car.

It was worth the risk.

Ten

Sia watched from her window as the figures walked across the snowy yard, two tall and hunched figures who were obviously Revs, and three normal-sized human figures. They’d come from the trees, headed toward the main double doors that led into the hospital. Two of the normals kept trying to hold hands but the hunchers kept pushing them apart. Sia put her hand to the window pane, ignoring the cold that seeped through her skin and immediately into her bones. The moon was bright and gave an eerie blue glow to the snow. One of the figures fell and Sia watched as one of the strange-looking figures advanced quickly but awkwardly. She heard herself cry out as the shot rang out and blood turned the snow black under the glow of the moon. One of the normals began to scream and the glass in the window cracked.
 

Sia pulled her hand away and realized her knuckles were bleeding. She stared at them, the screaming outside beginning to fade. The window had exploded in a spiderweb of cracks, her blood smeared across the center like a scarlet spider. She crouched in darkness in her new room like a small child and tried to make herself breathe. She had punched the glass. Why? She hugged her hand to her chest, the hot throb of her knuckles almost comforting, the pain of the split skin like a warm bath compared to the ice she felt inside her chest.

“What have you done?” Evelyn Hauser said, looking at Sia's new room from the doorway, her new cracked window, colored red in the middle and cracked like a bullseye.

“I don't know what happened,” Sia said. “I didn't mean to.”

“Your hand, girl,” said Hauser, closing the door behind her and flicking on the light. She pulled Sia over to her new four-poster bed. The old nurse went to the window to close the drapes, but stopped as her eyes fell on the scene below. Sia came to stand beside her. The other figures were gone, leaving only the dead human lying in the snow. Clouds covered the moon, but the light from her window fell squarely on a splatter of red in the snow.