Metahumans vs the Undead: A Superhero vs Zombie Anthology (27 page)

He gave me one look and was in sheer shock. “Might I ask what happened?” He showed me to the bed in the middle of the room.

It took every ounce of strength I had to hop up on the table. I removed my hand from the wound, which still had not healed.

“Let me get a sample.” He grabbed a Q-Tip and swabbed the area.

David stood by my side and slightly squeezed my hand.

It was a good thing I insisted on coming to the lab instead of the hospital. My healing ability would normally take care of any wounds I sustained, but this wasn’t like anything I ever experienced.

“This doesn’t look good,” the doctor said as he pushed his glasses further up on his nose and scrutinized the readings on the monitor.

“What’s wrong?” David asked.

“Whatever was in the saliva of the thing that bit you is now causing the area to become necrotic and delaying your ability to heal. I’m sure it will eventually heal itself, but by then it might be too late.”

I flopped back onto the bed in utter defeat.

Raphael asked David, “Might I inquire the circumstances that brought this on?”

Normally David wouldn’t give in to one of Raphael’s requests, but this was the exception and he recounted the events of the past several days.

“What were the defining physical characteristics of this fiend?” Raphael asked, pressing for more details.

“Why can’t you forgo the formality and just ask me what he looked like?” I snapped.

“I believe I just did.”

I closed my eyes and tried to bring up a mental picture of my attacker.

“His eyes were milky white. Not like he had cataracts, but like he was blind,” I said. “He was really thin, not an ounce of fat on him. His skin was hanging off his bones. That’s all I remember.”

“That almost sounds like . . .” the professor started until Raphael, with a quick gesture, instructed him not to pursue the issue.

“Sounds like what?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted the answer.

“It is nothing.” Raphael waved it off, but I still wasn’t convinced.

“It’s not ‘nothing!’” David said as he hit Raphael in the chest. He likely would have shoved him into the wall if Raphael didn’t outweigh him twofold and wasn’t a good foot and a half taller.

“Detective, please,” Raphael said as he gently pushed David out of the way. When you had that kind of physical presence, you could pretty much get away with anything.

“Answer me, Raphael,” David said through gritted teeth.

Dr. Bertram looked up at Raphael, who gave him a slight nod.

“During the early trials for the procedure, various pharmaceutical companies were interested in our findings, despite not being fully tested at the time,” Bertram explained. “One of the first things we set out to do was create a healing factor in the test subjects. There was an anomaly in one of them and although we determined the root cause, it was too late.”

“
More
test subjects? How many others have you experimented on?” I demanded.

“‘Test subjects’ do not automatically imply they were human,” Raphael said.

“They wouldn’t be anymore.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“If you must know, Ms.
Harker
, they were lab mice.” Raphael seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated with me.

Bertram continued. “Instead of a healing factor, one mouse had the opposite happen. In layman’s terms, it started decaying from the outside in.”

“Or to put it simply, you had a zombie mouse,” I offered.

As soon as I made the connection, my mind went on a wild tangent. Zombies were supposed to be fictitious, but the events happening around me were very real.

“So now what?” I asked Raphael. “I sit here and slowly rot to death?”

“Your healing factor has dealt with far worse situations.”

“So I’m supposed to trust that the people that contributed to giving me a healing factor didn’t screw that up, too?”

“Ms.
Harker
,” Raphael said gently. He was obviously trying to calm me down. “The faulty trial happened long ago. It has since been rectified and tested.”

“On who?”

“You and I.”

If I had any more energy, I would have continued the verbal war with him.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re healing ability is at least keeping the degeneration at bay,” the doctor said as he read the results off the monitor. “I’ll do another test in a half hour and see if your condition improves.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I said.

“What were you planning on accomplishing while incapacitated? Grocery shopping?” Raphael said.

I growled a low growl that was almost out of the range of human hearing, but I knew it would register on Raphael’s bat-like ears.

“That is one option,” Dr. Bertram piped up. Even Raphael looked on, so he obviously had no idea what it would be. “I can take a sample of your blood now and another after you heal. By looking at the changes in the antibodies we
should
know more about how to cure this virus.”

“So once again you want me to be the guinea pig?” I couldn’t say I liked where this was going.

“You will, no doubt, heal from this, but unless we can analyze it, other people are at risk,” the doctor said.

“Fine, do what you need to.” It had to be done.

“There is one caveat, however,” the doctor said, more muttering to himself than anyone in particular.

“What?”

“It would be impossible to guess how long your healing factor would take to absolve you of this infliction, and in the meantime, many more people could be infected.”

“If time is of the essence, then perhaps you could quickly explain your solution,” Raphael said.

“The healing factor is largely dependent on adrenaline.”

“So? Tell me something I don’t know,” I said.

“I could inject you with epinephrine to increase your heart rate and jump-start the healing process.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”

“It is not without risks. Additional side effects include anxiety, headache and hypertension, to name a few. I would also have to estimate the amount necessary to give to you. Your healing factor is still largely undocumented so your body’s response is difficult to hypothesize.”

“If you had stayed in the lab after your transformation, perhaps we would have a better idea on your capabilities,” Raphael said.

I uncharacteristically ignored him and looked over at David.

“I don’t like any of this,” he said with a grimace.

“Neither do I, but I’ve been through worse. I’m sure my healing ability can handle it,” I said with feigned optimism. I took a moment before turning to Bertram. “Let’s do it before I change my mind.”

I really wasn’t looking forward to this. Oddly enough, even though a lot was at stake, I was more worried about the needles. Ever since the procedure that turned me into
Nightcat
, I’ve been
extremely
fearful of them, likely due to Raphael ramming an elephant-sized needle into my midsection. I’ve never forgiven him for that.

David held my hand while Dr. Bertram drew blood. Unfortunately, I couldn’t squeeze David’s hand as much as I wanted to because I would have crushed it. I couldn’t help but watch Bertram prep the needle with the serum, but looked away just before he injected me. It didn’t take long before the burning sensation of the healing process intensified. At least it was working.

Several intense minutes passed, my pumping heart overtaking my immediate thoughts. I was sure it would jump right out of my chest and across the room.

My grip on David’s hand increased until he winced. I abruptly let go of him and sank my claws into the side of the bedframe. I heard the metal complaining, but I didn’t care. Better the examining table than David.

I tried my best to remain calm, but it was a near impossible feat. I writhed around on the bed, growling and groaning in pain.

Eventually the pain did subside, slowly. I was sweating so profusely that even my fur couldn’t absorb it all. Once the adrenaline wore off, I was chilly, like I was getting over a bad flu. As my body relaxed, it ached from being so tense.

Dr. Bertram looked at my neck to assess the outcome.

“It appears to be healing,” he said as he drew another vial of blood and compared it to the earlier sample.

“What are your findings, Doctor?” Raphael asked, barely giving him enough time to make any conclusions.

“We already knew the cause of the anomaly, so it should be fairly straightforward to find the antibody responsible for eradicating it.” Bertram studied the monitors.
      
After a few minutes of silence, Bertram finally made the diagnosis known. “The good news is we can synthesize a cure. The bad news is not everyone will respond to it.”

“Please elaborate,” Raphael said.

“If a person is in an advanced state of decomposition, the cure will be useless.”

“So what do we do with the badly-infected people?” I asked.

“In order to prevent the spread of the virus, they must be destroyed.” Bertram said this without any emotion in his voice.

“So they need to be killed. Great,” I muttered. “And what of the cure?”

“The best method would be to deliver it using the city’s water supply. That way the rest of the population will gain immunity.”

“And why do we need to kill the infected people, again?” I asked. “If everyone will be immune to it, then why do we need to kill them?”

“Do you wish more innocent blood to be shed, Ms.
Harker
?” Raphael asked.

“You know I can’t kill them,” I shot back. “You might not have any problems killing people, but I do.”

“What will happen to the infected if they’re left alone?” David said.

“They will wither away and die a slow, agonizing death,” Raphael replied. “You see, Ms.
Harker
, I am not without a conscience.”

“Just because you claim to have one doesn’t mean that you do,” I snapped.

I still couldn’t get over what they wanted me to do.

“And why can’t
you
deal with them?” I asked Raphael. He might not have my agility, but he more than made up for it in brute strength and had the power of flight, thanks to his thirty-plus-odd-foot wingspan.

“Do you wish to break into the water treatment plant to administer the cure?” Raphael asked.

I could have done it easily enough, but it wouldn’t look good for both David and I to be caught breaking and entering. It was too risky.

It was like Raphael read my mind. Damn him.

“I am not in good favour with the law enforcement community, so I propose I take this assignment while you and the good detective protect the public by ridding the city of the infected individuals.”

I still didn’t like the idea.

“I know what you’re thinking, Dana,” David said in a soothing voice, “but they are already dead and it’s our job to protect the public.”