Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (26 page)

"I'm sure good old Vance here told you about
our new arrival procedures, so if you'll follow me, ladies, and,
Jake, you can follow Mark, we can get the formal stuff out of the
way and get you settled in. You must be exhausted and hungry."

One look at Jake told me he was on high
alert, which was to be expected. I wanted to talk with Meg alone
about the subtle changes I'd noticed in his demeanor, but Michele
was up our asses, shooing us toward a freestanding cabanalike
structure by the water. I took note of the two armed men following
behind us, and found Jake had similar stage-five clingers on his
trail.

Michele chattered on behind us, and I tuned
into her commentary. "So, here at Asylum our number one priority is
the safety of our residents. Every person behind these walls does
their part in contributing to the betterment of the community."

We moved around to the back of the cabana
which, to my surprise, was open. Inside the little cove area was a
massage table and storage space. Our guardians maintained a
respectable distance, giving us privacy but maintaining proximity
to act if necessary.

Our guide patted the massage table and told
us to take a seat before wheeling over a canvas padded stool and
sitting in front of us with a clipboard.

"If it's okay with you girls, I'll just ask
you some questions before I check you over."

"Sure," I replied. Personally, I found this
option lacking in common sense, but I was more than willing to
delay getting naked for a few more minutes.

"Let's start with you, Emma. Can you spell
your full name for me?" I answered her questions, which were pretty
innocuous. Name, age, location, trade profession, and any other
useful skills. "Do you cook?" she asked.

I snorted. "I think the more appropriate
question is should I cook. If it comes from a box and requires no
skill, I'm your woman. If you want anything cooked without burnt
edges, or food with flavor, I'm not the droid you're looking
for."

"Okay, great," she replied, and I could
almost see my Star Wars reference fly right over her head. "Any
kids?"

"Nope."

"Any life-threatening medical issues or
communicable diseases?"

"Nope."

"Any history of serious conditions in your
immediate family, either parents or siblings?"

"My dad has heart disease, and I'm an only
child."

"Great!" she exclaimed, a little too happy
for my liking. I think she was just going through the motions. Who
in their right mind follows up heart disease with such an
enthusiastic response?

Michele asked Meg all the same questions, and
I saw Meg's smile falter when Michele asked about her siblings. She
was thinking about Vinny. She didn't have siblings anymore, she had
sibling. Singular. Our chipper friend remained oblivious to her
shift in mood and put her clipboard down.

"Now for the not so fun part," she said,
putting on a frowny face. I need to check you for bites. Which
means you'll need to take off all your clothes."

We complied, and stood in the open cabana
shivering in the buff while she inspected us for wounds. She asked
about the gash on Meg's leg, and we told her the truth; she'd
caught it on a car. The cut was already healing and didn't show any
signs of infection.

Satisfied that we were free of bites, Michele
clapped her hands together and said, "Yay!"

I'm dead serious; she actually used the word
yay; you can't make this shit up.

"We've got one more female in our party," I
said, laughing at the poor girl's expense when she looked confused.
"Daphne." Upon hearing her name, the dog got excited and began
whining to be let out. Michele gave her a cursory inspection and
deemed her free of infection. The dog won her over with kisses and
she squeezed her in a hug.

"Is it okay if I leave her out of the bag?
She's spent more time in there than I'd like lately. I'll keep her
in my arms and won't let her down to roam around. Though I'd love
to take her some place before we head back so she can have a potty
break."

"That would be fine, but I can't let you
wander off. You can set her down outside the cabana to do her
business." She gave Daphne another pat on the head.

"Thanks, Michele. That would be great."

"Go ahead and get dressed. I'll give you some
privacy and wait for you outside."

Now, she gives us privacy?

"You may want to consider getting a tetanus
shot just to be on the safe side," she offered to Meg. "Once you're
out of quarantine, I'll have Dr. Chen come see you."

"Wait. What? Quarantine? You just confirmed
we weren't hiding any bites. Why would we need to be quarantined?"
I asked, my patience was wearing thin and it was reflected in my
tone.

"Oh yes," she said, her exuberant facade not
shaken. "Twenty-four hours in isolation. But don't worry; it won't
be like prison or anything. We'll make sure you have access to food
and drink and even a DVD player with a mountain of movies to choose
from.

As fate would have it, I finally had a moment
alone with Meg, and as I pulled my clothes back on, I took
advantage of our solitude.

"Meg, have you noticed anything different
about your brother?" I asked her.

"Different how?"

"I can't put my finger on any one thing, just
a lot of subtle changes after—" I cut myself off, building up the
nerve to bring up her brother and reopen the raw wound. "Well, like
after Vinny. I feel like he checked out right after it happened,
and I can't say for certain, but when he yelled at me, I don't
think it was directed at me. If I'm being completely honest, it
felt like he was yelling at himself. But you have the psych
degree."

I turned to face her, waiting for her to tell
me I was dead wrong, but she didn't. "I kind of thought the same
thing when it was happening, and I've reflected on it, a lot, and
now I don't know. You're right, though, he's definitely different,
but in little ways. His posture for one thing; he hasn't relaxed
since Vinny died. He's always alert. And sometimes, when he doesn't
know anyone's watching, his eyes get so intense."

"Should we address it? Let him know we see
it?"

She thought about my question, giving it
proper consideration. "I don't think so. If he knows we're watching
him, he may try to hide it more, and we won't see the warning signs
of a stress-induced psychosis. For now, I think it's best if we
just observe him from a distance."

* * *

Michele escorted us back to where Jake stood,
waiting for us with a grumpy puss on his face. "So, they told you
about the quarantine I take it?" I asked him.

"Yup," he responded in a clipped tone.
Pre-Vinny Jake wouldn't have been so angry about the annoying
protocol. Post-Vinny Jake was seething and blowing it out of
proportion. This was looking to be a long twenty-four hours.

Michele and Mark walked in front of us,
holding hands again. They took turns rattling off mundane facts
about the grounds. Normally, I'd have loved to hear about the
history of the mansion and surrounding museum, but today I just
wasn't in the mood for it.

Taking us through a side entrance, the couple
led us down a narrow hall and stopped in front of one of the doors.
Mark spoke in his sing-song voice. "Jake why don't you take this
room, Meg in the next one, and Emma you and the pup take the
third."

"Wait a minute," protested Jake. "You mean
we're being separated?"

Michele chimed in. "It's for your own
protection. If one member of a party is infected and turns, well,
I'm sure you can figure out why that would be very bad for the
others. Give me your bags, weapons, too. I'll set them down in the
hallway for you once everything has been cleaned, and you can get
them back in the morning."

"Its fine," I said to Jake, handing over the
bag. "We'll all be next to each other and it will only be one
night."

"And," Mark added, "each of your rooms have a
comfortable bed with clean sheets, and you'll have your own
bathrooms to clean up."

They ushered us into our respective rooms,
and let us know they would bring us some fresh clothes and some
dinner. I stepped into the room and heard the door close behind me.
A distinct click of the solid wood entry sounded. The room wasn't
bad. It wasn't the Ritz Carlton, but it looked lived in and
comfortable. A small rectangle, about two-inches by twelve-inches,
had been crudely cut from the door at chest level, presumably to
pass food and other items through.

I didn't want to sit down with my dirty
outfit, so I waited in place for Michele to return with the
promised clothes. Either I zoned out, or she rushed back down to
us. She was back before I could get impatient and slid a tray of
food and a set of cotton pajamas through the hole. The tags were
still on the clothes, and she'd guessed my size perfectly.

"Well," I said to Daphne, "time to shower I
guess. And don't think you're weaseling out of it. You stink worse
than me."

I washed Daphne in the sink, towel drying her
as best I could before tending to my own hygiene needs. A long, hot
shower was exactly what the doctor ordered. Even though the room
was small, the shower offered ample space. Layers of grime, built
up from days spent in filthy spaces, swirled into a muddy brown and
circled down the drain.

When the water ran clear, I slid to the floor
of the shower and hugged my knees to my chest. Without the
distraction of external stimuli, I was left with nothing but my own
thoughts and they weren't good. Each time I closed my eyes, Vinny's
face popped into my head. Only, it wasn't Vinny, it was the monster
that took control of his dead body. As if on a constant loop,
Jake's final act of compassion for his brother replayed.

I sat there until my fingers were pruned.
Despite the expensive conditioner someone had graciously left for
me, getting the knots out of my hair required elbow grease and a
lot of time. At one point I would have considered taking a pair of
scissors to the long mane just to stop the torture, not that I had
access to any scissors at the moment. Finally, the wide-toothed
comb slid through my nearly dry hair without resistance and the
trash bin looked like a reddish-brown animal had died in it. To my
extreme annoyance there was no clock in the room. When the hell did
they stop putting a clock on DVD players?

Cheap bastards.

When Michele and Mark broke the news that our
quarantine sentence would be served in solitary confinement, I felt
a pang of fear. I thought I would go crazy without distractions to
keep my mind busy and would spend the evening crying for lost loved
ones. Sure, there was crying at first, but soon my mind did
something wonderful. It began to heal. Instead of aching for those
friends and family, I began to remember them not as dead, or
undead, but as the special souls they were, and what qualities made
them so important to me.

Kat, beautiful and kind, always put other's
needs in front of her own, and she did it quietly, never flaunting
her good deeds or claiming credit. As her friend, I knew the
lengths she went to for others, but she was satisfied to play the
role of anonymous benefactor on more than one occasion for less
fortunate students. If you've attended college, you know textbooks
are ridiculously expensive, sometimes costing hundreds of dollars
for a single book. Kat donated all her books back to the program
for future students, and several times she provided the funding so
students in our class could have new uniforms. When we found out a
particular student's family couldn't afford a Thanksgiving turkey,
she went out and bought the biggest bird she could find and
delivered it to their home with all the fixings.

Olivia radiated positive energy. It was
infectious, and people naturally gravitated to her. Now that girl
could make me laugh, and I'm not talking about your average laugh.
I'm talking a laugh so hard that tears would stream down my face
and I'd have to clench my pelvic muscles for fear of peeing in my
pants.

Our nursing program took place in the
evenings, and every night after class Ollie and I would stand by
our cars engaging in what we liked to call the sewing circle. We'd
gripe about the classes, things happening in our lives, and crack
jokes. Before we knew it, time would get away from us and an hour
would go by. That was my favorite thing about our friendship; it
was just effortless.

I think that's the hallmark of a good thing:
when hours go by in the blink of an eye. We never knew where
exactly the time went, and we were certain the space-time continuum
was fucking with us. I smiled just thinking about our adventures,
but I couldn't stave off the sadness that crept in when I wondered
what had become of my pint-sized friend. Not trying to find her was
a huge regret I lived with daily since dead people started walking
around.

With no clock and no windows in the small
room, I had no way to tell time. Was it still today? Or had today
become yesterday and been replaced by tomorrow? I tried knocking on
the wall and calling out to Meg, but she was either fast asleep or
the walls were insulated well. I didn't hear any sound coming from
her room, not even when I pressed my ear to the wall and strained
to hear.

I thought I heard the sound of feet stop
outside my door, and a tray was slid through. Before I could call
out, the feet receded down the hall. I picked at the breakfast but
fed most to Daphne, who happily ate every last morsel.

Did I sleep? I think I fell in and out of
consciousness, but the only indication that any length of time had
passed was the location of Daphne. She was restless and moved
around a lot, but she never left the bed I lay upon, and she never
broke physical contact with me. I, too, started getting restless,
and I thought about putting on a movie but decided against it.