Poveglia (After the Cure Book 4) Page 7

  “Because you might be immune.”

  Christine shrugged. “You might be too. I don’t see why it matters either way.”

  “You’re in there because it’s safe. It’s not the bacteria I’m worried about. You’ve already breathed it in. It’s already everywhere. Chris, two people have already turned today. There will be more and more. Unless most people turn out to be immune, in a week the City will be overrun. And until people turn, they’re going to convince themselves they’re immune. They’re going to come down here. They’re going to try to convince you too. You can’t let them in. You can’t let any of them in. You can’t save them, Christine. You can only save yourself and the baby and maybe the girl that’s already in there. You know what Nella said. There’s no cure for this strain. There never will be. She and Frank are safe. I need you to call her. I need you to tell her what’s happening. She’ll find a way to get you out of the City. She’ll find a way to save you and the baby and that girl.”

  Christine shook her head. “Why don’t you tell her? Why don’t you come in here and be safe too?”

  “I’m not immune, Chris. I’m already sick. I should have seen it before. I’ve been stumbling or breaking things for days. Even you noticed, you said I seemed hung over the past few mornings, and we haven’t seen alcohol in months.”

  “It’s just coincidence, Vita. It’s just because you know the symptoms now, you’re seeing them everywhere.”

  Sevita’s face tipped up toward the camera with a sad smile. “It’s okay if you need to believe that. I know my body. I know what’s really happening. If you’re right, I’ll join you in a few weeks. In the meantime, I have work to do.”

  “Work? Sevita, you can’t abandon us for a fucking news report,” shrieked Christine, “especially when everyone is going to be too insane to understand it. I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone in here for—”

  “Chris,” said Sevita calmly, trying to interrupt, “Christine—”

  Christine took a deep breath. “What?”

  “I’m not doing a news report. I have work to do to protect you. And to protect the people outside the City. I can’t let the Infected get loose. Nobody knows yet. When they find out, they’ll panic and flee, thinking that will save them. But it’s too late. I have to stop them, Christine.”

  “Stop them by doing what?”

  Sevita turned away as a man’s voice echoed behind her. She looked back at the camera. “I have to go, Chris. I’ll try to come back as soon as I can.”

  “I love you,” said Christine hurriedly, trying to throw all the time she was losing into the words, trying to take back the angry shouting.

  Sevita kissed the palm of her hand and touched the camera lens. “Christine,” she said slowly, “For most people the Plague and what has come after— it’s been complete misery. It’s been regret and loss and hunger and suffering. I know that. And I know that it’s wrong to say, I know it’s probably wrong to even feel, but I’m thankful for the Plague. Every day. I would have spared everyone else if it were possible, but the truth is that my life has been better ever since you dragged me out of the studio on a stretcher. Except for the Plague, I’d never have met you. You would never have loved me. That’s how I know it was meant to happen. And, Chris, I love you so much that if I had to make it happen, if I had to somehow put the rest of the world through all that hell in order to find you, then the rest of the world would have burned. I don’t regret a single day since you found me. I won’t regret a single second of making sure you stay safe. Stay inside. Call Nella. If there’s an ounce of me left, I’ll come back.”

  The intercom clicked off and Sevita turned away and disappeared into the stairwell.

  Fourteen

  Christine wiped her eyes and turned around. Marnie was standing behind her, the book forgotten in one hand. The girl was shaking. Christine wasn’t sure she was in a better state herself, but she helped Marnie sit down on one of the nearby bunks. They sat side by side for a while, neither speaking.

  “I should have gone with Henry,” said Marnie suddenly.

  “Who is Henry?” asked Christine, not really caring.

  “Henry came to save me, in the camp I was in before. He was Infected and the man that owned us kept him locked up as a guard dog. I let him go one night. I let them all go. I let them eat the bastards who ran the camp and I helped the others, people like me, leave. But Henry found the Cure somehow. He came back to save me. He told me about this camp he was making with others. But I’d had enough of camps and I didn’t know him anymore. I didn’t know if he was the old Henry, or if he was— different. So I found this place on his map instead. I should never have come here.”

  “No,” said Christine helplessly, “You should not have.”

  “What are we supposed to do now?”

  Christine shrugged. “I don’t know. Wait, I guess. Maybe it’s just a scare. Maybe she’s overreacting.”

  “Does your wife do that a lot?”

  “No,” sighed Christine, “but that’s what I want to believe.” She got up and wandered over to the small medical kit and began rummaging around.

  “What are you doing?” asked Marnie.

  “Looking for a sedative that’s safe for the baby.”

  Marnie stood up. “Wait, don’t you think we should leave? We can get out of here, slip away. I can take us to Henry’s camp. It’s only a day or two away. There’s no reason to stay here while the City rots away around us.”

  Christine looked up. “I’m sorry Marnie, but I can’t be sure I’m not infected. And since you’ve been in close contact with me, I can’t be sure you aren’t infected either.”

  “We’re perfectly healthy. You heard her, she said you were immune. I haven’t touched anything. The only food I’ve eaten was sealed. We can go now, before we really do get sick.”

  “I might be immune. We’re going to have to wait a few weeks and see. You don’t want to carry this to your friend do you? Sevita is going to do— I don’t know what, but she’s going to do something dangerous to protect people like your friend. I can’t make that all worthless by going out there now.”

  “But-”

  “Or by allowing you to go out there either,” Christine finished, staring pointedly at Marnie. The girl folded her arms and glared.

  “Oh yeah? Well, you can’t stop me. I’ve taken care of myself for years now and I don’t need you or this City or anyone else. I’m leaving whether you like it or not.”

  Christine shrugged and picked up another small bottle of pills. Marnie ran over to the door. Christine said nothing. The girl pulled and pried at the lever, then began punching buttons on the keypad. Christine ignored her.

  “What’s the code?” asked Marnie at last.

  “Why don’t we make something to eat?” offered Christine. “The morning sickness is over, so you don’t have to worry about the smell in here at least.”

  “I’ll work it out anyway.”

  “Go ahead. It’s a 5 digit combination. The chances of you finding the right one before it’s actually okay for us to go outside are pretty slim.” She rattled the bottle she was holding. “I’m taking a half dose with my soup. Would you like a half dose too? It won’t put you out, but it might calm you down. I think it might be wise.”

  Marnie scowled and shook her head. “Okay,” said Christine, “let me know if you change your mind.” She walked into one of the tiny bathrooms and pulled the door closed. Her hands shook so badly she could barely unscrew the child safety cap on the bottle. She pulled out a tiny gelcap and slid it onto her tongue and then closed the bottle and pocketed it. The pill dissolved into grainy bitterness and Christine leaned against the wall and sobbed.

  Fifteen

  Sevita fumbled with the thick yellow vinyl in a dark corner of the parking garage. She’d wanted a suit earlier, she’d craved the slick shell and the anonymity of the face mask. But as it slid over her arms and flapped around her legs, the plastic was a burden. She was weary, though she
fought it. She thought it was the disease, devouring her, stealing her energy. But the day had already been long, even without that. She’d drug herself up the stairs of the hospital to meet Dan, and following him into the garage had seemed an enormous act of will. The suit was a cold, heavy, dead skin. Another layer between the world and her known self. As if she’d already turned. The soldiers, their first objective successfully complete, chatted easily, seemed light with purpose. But they hadn’t said goodbye to anyone yet, she thought, or else they’re used to this unending dread.

  “These may get us to City Hall, but I don’t know if we’re going to be allowed to see the Governor in biosuits. Won’t it scare people?” she asked.

  Dan checked his watch. “We’re not going to City Hall. There are too many people there that would recognized us. If they’ve been paying any attention to their radios, they’ll know we’re supposed to be at the power plant. We’re going to the Governor’s house.”

  Paul shook his head in disbelief and Tom’s eyes grew wide, but they both stayed silent. “It’s almost curfew,” continued Dan, “We should blend right in with the other soldiers. As long as you let me do the talking and nobody takes off their mask, we should be fine.”

  “You think he’ll help us?” asked Sevita.

  “He has to do something. He’s spent a decade protecting the people in this City, I can’t imagine he’ll just sit back and watch it crumble now.”

  “But we aren’t asking him to save the City,” said Sevita gently, “We’re asking him to sacrifice it for someone else.”

  “I have to try. I have to give him the chance to decide. I know what’s at stake. We’ll find a way even without him, but if he’s willing to help, I’m not going to refuse.” Dan looked back and forth between Sevita and Paul as if trying to convince both of them. “We have to move. Every hour that passes, the likelier it is that somebody else turns and people figure out what’s happening.” He zipped his suit and headed for the garage’s entrance.

  Sevita pulled on the heavy helmet and concentrated on trying not to gasp through the filter. It was hot and hard to see. She followed the others mostly by the sound of their feet.

  She hadn’t been to the Governor’s house since he’d taken over for his predecessor. It wasn’t large and he wasn’t a man who reveled in luxury, but it was at least close to the City’s center. A slim brick row house, it sat amongst several others. Before the Plague, it would have been almost anonymous, the bright brass numbers near its door the only thing to distinguish it from the others. But now it was the only one kept up. The tiny yard was immaculately trimmed, and the cement walk swept perfectly clean. The brick was freshly cleaned and the roof sat straight and proud. The other houses, where they still stood, were grimed and windowless, sagging or slumping with years of unchecked water. The doors hung off their hinges and the front steps crumbled into yards. Burdock and goldenrod competed with ivy to break apart the thin brick walls between properties. Sevita wondered why he hadn’t had them all bulldozed. He’d done it in other parts of the City, trying to keep the entropy at bay. He couldn’t enjoy seeing them melt into chaos every morning. Was it a personal reminder of why he fought? Was it a challenge to himself? Or was there another, sadder reason? Did he miss the people that had been there? Was he in mourning?

  Sevita regretted never bothering to really get to know the man. Now she wouldn’t get the chance. Maybe nobody would. She suddenly felt very sad for him.

  They walked up the small path in single file. Dan removed his mask and knocked on the light plexiglass door as the others took off theirs. A very stern man in uniform opened the door.

  “Sergeant Wilson,” he said, then nothing more.

  “Captain Stevens. We’re here to see the Governor,” said Dan. “We don’t have an appointment. This is an emergency.”

  Stevens nodded. “You may wait inside, if you remove your biohazard suits first.” He pointed to a whitewashed bench on the porch. “You may leave them there.” He watched as they struggled out of the damp vinyl and folded the suits into small bundles on the bench. Then he led the way through a sparse living room and into a large office that Sevita suspected was once a large dining room. He left them sitting in the hard chairs around the desk.

  Paul bounced his knee nervously. “We’re going to get arrested,” he whispered.

  “Don’t worry,” said Dan with a chuckle, “One of the last Drunk and Disorderlies showed me the trick to cell four. Loose pin. Turn it clockwise.”

  Paul shook his head but smiled. They stayed quiet after that. The wait was long and Sevita slipped into a light doze before Stevens came in to light the oil lamps. Long after dark, the Governor strode into the office.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked abruptly and sat down at his desk.

  Dan exchanged a puzzled glance with Paul. “We didn’t come for dinner, sir.”

  “No, I didn’t imagine so. But you must have missed it at the power plant,” said the Governor staring intently at Dan. Sevita’s heart sank. The Governor nodded at Stevens.

  That’s it, thought Sevita, it’s all over.

  But Stevens quietly passed out a tray of sandwiches. “Excuse the fare, Stevens’s skills are far too valuable to waste on cooking. Especially when there isn’t any power.” The Governor picked up his own sandwich. “Well?” he asked, “I don’t have all night.”

  “We need to quarantine the City.”

  “For two incidents? I hardly think that’s an appropriate response.”

  “It’s two incidents right now, sir, but for how long?”

  “Look, Sergeant…”

  “Wilson, sir”

  “Sergeant Wilson, the doctors assure me that even if this is another strain of the Plague, they are confident they can adapt the Cure in a matter of weeks at most. Between them and the quarantine teams keeping it contained in the power plant and prison, we should be clear in a month. That is, if you haven’t breached the containment by becoming exposed yourselves. Stevens said you had suits, though.”

  Dan started to say something, but Sevita broke in. “The doctors are wrong,” she said, “There is no cure this time.”

  The Governor gave her a tight smile. “Ms. Das, always a pleasure to see you. If you don’t mind me asking, what gives you the idea that this is incurable?”

  “Dr. Carton gave me the idea,” she said, somewhat nettled at his tone, “And after he explained, Dr. Ryder agreed. It has something to do with the exterior of the bacteria in this strain. When Dr. Carton’s lab made it, they did something to it. It lets the bacteria disarm antibiotics. It makes them useless. There’s no cure. Your doctors just don’t know it yet.”

  “And it’s not contained, sir,” said Dan. “The prison proved that. All of us are already exposed. It’s a small city. We get our groceries from the same people, stroll the same marketplace, frequent the same laundromat. It’s already too late. It was too late weeks ago. All we can do now is stop it from spreading farther.”

  The Governor put his sandwich back down, untouched. “Stop it from spreading? Where’s it going to spread to? What kind of alarmist rumors have you been listening to, Sergeant Wilson? Just because it spread to a few officers in the prison doesn’t mean we’re all doomed. Maybe the nurse was the connection. Maybe they were all sleeping together. We don’t know anything yet. I’m not closing off the City because of a few outrageous claims. You can go now. Report to the hospital for a blood test. Once you are cleared and have had a good night’s sleep, you’ll relax.”

  “I understand your hesitance sir, but—” Dan paused as the Governor’s face tightened into grim anger. “But it doesn’t cost anything to be cautious,” he continued, “If we are wrong, the blood tests will show in a few days. But if we’re right, we only have a few days— a few hours even, to prevent a panic and stop the contagion. I know you’ve already shut the gate for the night— disable it completely, I beg you. Close the harbor, bury the boats, so nobody, not even your own soldiers are tempted to believe they alone are
immune and can flee what’s already inside them. If we’re wrong, a few short weeks will put it right.”

  “Even if I believed you, it would be suicide. Murder. Mass slaughter.”

  “You don’t have to believe us,” said Paul, standing up from his seat. “As soon as people get a whiff of this, they’re going to panic and try to leave, whether it’s true or not. How are you going to separate the exposed from the healthy?”

  “The same way we are now,” said the Governor, leaning back and crossing his arms, “with a blood test.”

  “A mob of panicked people are not going to wait quietly for three days to get the results. They’re going to tear that gate apart.”

  “We can hold the gate just fine.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Dan tried to get Paul to sit, but Paul knew they’d already gone too far. “You can’t hold it. There were barely enough men to hold it a month ago when the court room went into quarantine. Not to mention our rapidly dwindling ammunition. That time they weren’t even defending it from half of the population. How are you going to hold it with even less ammunition now and the full weight of the people behind it trying to flee? Last month you had soldiers shooting into the air above the heads of the mobs to stop them. No one got hurt, everyone just dispersed and went home. They stayed because they knew there was a good chance it was contained. Are your men going to shoot civilians now, when they refuse to turn around? How many are they going to shoot before they crack? How many days will you have enough men to hold the gate before your own start to turn? They’re infected too, you know. It has to be destroyed. There’s no other way.”

  “Listen to yourselves! I’m not trapping my own people. You, of all people, should know how much we’ve given to protect the citizens,” said the Governor, stabbing a finger toward Paul, “You come here, telling me there’s no cure for this disease, that people are going to start slaughtering each other in the streets within hours, and you want me to imprison them here? Confine them to be hunted down and cannibalized? Do you really understand how important each life is here?”