Patient Z (20 page)

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Authors: Becky Black

Tags: #LGBT, #Paranormal, #Zombie Apocalypse

BOOK: Patient Z
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The vote on Mitch’s proposal carried it unanimously, and he heaved a sigh of relief for now. Ella adjourned the council, and there was much scraping of chairs as everyone started to scatter. Mitch wanted to go and talk to Cal, but Bren grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

“This is a serious fucking situation,” she said. “Dolores isn’t going to get elected this time. She’s pissed too many people off. Naomi is going to get it.”

“What about Kathy?” Where was Cal? Cal would have a vote this time. “I guess we just have to campaign more than before.”

“More being ‘at all,’ then. And we don’t need to campaign for ourselves, do we? We always get elected. We’re going to have to campaign for Kathy and Dolores.”

“Shit, this is worse than I thought.”

“This is no time for jokes,” she said, with a scowl almost as bad as Cal’s. But Mitch hadn’t been joking. He’d spotted where Cal was now. He was by the door, and talking intently to him—Naomi.

Chapter Twenty

Naomi took Cal’s arm as the meeting began to break up. He glanced over to see Mitch and Bren busy in conversation and turned back to Naomi.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. He liked her. The few dealings he’d had with her showed him a smart and practical person. Less abstract thinking than some of the others around here—Mitch for one.

“Let’s find somewhere quieter to talk,” she said. “I’ve got a question for you.” She led him out of the room and up onto the deck, where they found a place at the rail, the wind at their backs snatching their words away out to sea.

“Cal, I think it would be a good idea if you ran for election to the council,” she said.

Cal started. He hadn’t been expecting that. He knew she was keen on getting on the council herself, and had assumed she was after his vote. But this?

“Ma’am, I’m actually still within my probationary period. Am I even eligible?”

“Don’t worry about the probation thing. I’m sure that can be approved early. You’ve proved yourself several times now. You’ve made an important contribution, and you can make more in the future.”

“Why me?”

“You’re popular. You’d stand a good chance.”

He was popular? Strange to think that was true. He hadn’t let himself get close to anyone except Mitch. The others he was friendly with, but he’d taken to heart Mitch’s words about not messing with the women’s emotions by giving them false hope.

“But you’re such a recent recruit to our community that you still have an outsider’s perspective. You’ll bring a fresh way of solving problems to the council.”

Buttering him up. But it made him think. Did he truly feel like an outsider anymore? Or was he rather too comfortable? With his safe room. With Mitch. With lazy Sunday-morning sex?

“And you know more about what’s going on ashore than anyone here,” Naomi said. Ah. Cal started to understand. She was on the side of going ashore sooner rather than later. And she assumed Cal was too. Could she tell Cal chafed at staying in one place too long? But just because Cal’s feet were itchy, it didn’t mean he thought everyone else should leave. He agreed with Mitch and Bren that it was too dangerous out there to even think about going yet. Of course, there was that expedition in the spring they were talking about.

“You think if I was on the council I’ll vote to leave next summer.”

“Cal.” She turned away from looking at the sea. “I am forever grateful to Mitch and Bren for bringing us here, for the protection this rig gives us. But I don’t want to be here in five years’ time. And if we let them set the pace, we will be.” She put a hand on his arm. “Forgive me. I know you’re close to Mitch. And he’s a good man. But he’s too cautious.”

“He just wants to keep everyone safe.”

“Yes. But he thinks it’s actually possible. I don’t think it is. And humans never made any progress that way. You know the saying. Ships in harbor are safe, but that’s not what ships are for.”

What answer could he give her? Part of him wanted to say
hell no
and run for his life, escape before he was bound to this place forever. But he was bound to these people already. He was bound to Mitch, however much that scared him and however much he resisted it. Could Cal walk away from him?

Could he achieve more by doing what Naomi wanted—getting on the council and getting them to vote for the expedition in the spring? An expedition Cal would volunteer for and make sure Mitch did too. Mitch might be cautious, but Cal could be extremely persuasive when he put his mind to it.

“I will think about it,” he promised her.

“Good. Nominations close this Friday. Decide by then.”

“Um…I kind of lose track. What day is it today?”

“Monday.”

Shit
. “Okay, thanks. See you later.” She turned and went back inside, leaving Cal by the rail, contemplating the steel gray sea and the heavy sky promising rain above it.

Monday. So yesterday, the day that started at the hotel, making love in a lazy Sunday-morning way, had in fact been Sunday after all. Cal rubbed his wrists, which felt suddenly sore. The memory of pain. The chafing of his wrists when he’d been manacled belowdecks with Mitch waiting for an excuse to shoot him.

Oh God, he
had
to get out of here.

* * * *

Mitch didn’t see Cal much the rest of the day. Not alone anyway. There was still plenty of work to do, getting the new infirmary and classrooms set up. Both of them were busy. He didn’t see Cal at dinner either, and someone said he’d gone back to his room.

Mitch frowned at that, worried. Wasn’t Cal hungry? Maybe he was a little tired of company. He got antisocial like that sometimes, just wanting to be left alone. After all that time alone on shore he must be used to solitude. This place could feel too bustling at times. He finished his dinner, gathered some bits and pieces on a tray, and took it down to the room. Cal was there, lying on their bed, still dressed. Not reading as he usually was when he withdrew from the group to get some peace. He lay looking up at the ceiling, one arm resting across his stomach.

“Hey,” Mitch said in a quiet voice. “I brought you something to eat.”

Cal didn’t look at him. “I’m not really hungry.”

“Okay.” Mitch put the tray down. “Maybe you can have a snack later.” Should he stay? Go? He waited for a signal from Cal. None came. “Are you okay?” Mitch realized he was using the same soft voice he used with Inez and with some of the other more fragile members of the group, especially the children.

“Fine.” Cal shuffled over on the bed. “Come join me.”

With some relief, Mitch sat down on the bed, his back against the wall, and got Cal to put his head on Mitch’s lap so he could stroke Cal’s thick black hair with one hand and rest the other on his chest. Cal smiled up at him, rested his hand on Mitch’s, and closed his eyes. Mitch went on stroking his hair gently, hoping he was helping, giving Cal whatever it was he needed right now. They lay like that for a while. Fifteen minutes by Mitch’s watch. He thought Cal had gone to sleep, but he opened his eyes.

“Where will we go?” Cal asked. “When we leave here? What kind of place?”

“I think it should be an island,” Mitch said. “Large enough to grow food, but small enough that we can clear it of zombies.”

“Isn’t that like this place, but with trees?”

“I don’t think so,” Mitch said. “We’ll be mostly self-sufficient, growing food, raising livestock. If we stock up right, then I don’t see any reasons we’d have to return to the mainland more than once or twice a year.”

“But it’s still isolated. It’s still a bolt-hole.”

“No. It would be the start of a new society. It will take a long time. We’ll have to gradually bring in others. Find some trustworthy men, for one thing. But it will be worth it.”

Cal went quiet for a couple of minutes, then spoke again. “How long do you think it will be before the zombies all rot away?”

“Another year, maybe two. But that’s only for the ones from the first wave. There are others being made all the time. Like those guys we saw at the military base that you recognized.”

“Yeah,” Cal muttered. “But that could go on until there are no more live people to bite.”

“I know. It will be years before the mainland is habitable again. And there’ll still be a few wandering ones out there. That’s why I favor the island solution.”

“But you still want to stay here for a while yet.”

“Yes. Ella and the others talking about moving next summer…” He shook his head. “They’re wrong. They don’t know what it’s like ashore the way we do.” He paused, then bit the bullet and asked, “What’s on your mind, Cal? Anything you care to talk about?”

Cal sat up, head-to-head with Mitch, looking him in the eyes. “This expedition in the spring. I think it’s a good idea. And I want to go.”

Mitch had figured as much. He tried to control a rising sense of panic about it. He smiled. “I knew you would volunteer. It’s the sort of thing you would do. But the coming spring is too soon.”

“We should go,” Cal said, apparently ignoring Mitch’s objection. “You and me, alone.”

“What?” Mitch frowned. “That’s much too dangerous.”

“No, it’s not. We know how to survive. We’ll move faster with just the two of us.”

“Not if one of us gets sick or hurt and has to be carried on a stretcher,” Mitch pointed out.

“I assumed we’d be using a car.”

“Two people is not enough, Cal. I don’t know why you think—”

“Because I’m sick of sharing you with everyone else!” He scooted away when Mitch reached toward him. “Don’t you want to spend some time just us?”

“This would hardly be a holiday.”

“I know. I know.” Cal took a breath, ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m not saying we set out on the first day of spring and have everyone settled in by midsummer. Maybe…the two of us find someplace and bring a smaller group out to establish the settlement. You know, the younger, stronger ones. Get everything ready, make plans. Then the next spring we bring everyone to it. The sooner we start, the better the plans we can make.”

“It’s a good idea. I like that thought about starting with a small group to establish ourselves. But next year is still too soon. It’s too dangerous out there. The year after will probably be okay. And Cal, I don’t know if I can be away from the rig for that long. Even if I go on the initial expedition, I will still come back here. They need me here.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking indispensable, aren’t you?” The scowl Mitch had come to rather like wasn’t so sexy anymore. Just furious. But Cal’s tone was sneering. Mitch froze.

“What does that mean?” he asked coldly.

“This is all about your damn ego, isn’t it?
You
have to set the pace.
You
have to decide what’s right for everyone. But these women are not helpless. They don’t need you. They love you, Mitch. They’re grateful to you. But they don’t need you anymore.”

Mitch jumped up off the bed, clenching his fists as he fought down the anger inside him. He would not give way to it and yell at Cal. That was the old way. Cal rose too, more slowly, and his stance was defensive. As if he expected Mitch to attack. Mitch took a breath, fought for calm.

“I do not do this to feed my ego,” he said in the most reasonable voice he could muster. “I am a police officer. This is my duty.”

“Don’t wave your fucking badge at me. You talk about this being a new world, but you hang on to that job title like it still means something.”

Job title? He’d never thought of Police Officer as a job title. More like the words stamped on his soul.

“I am still a cop. I’ll never be anything else. And Cal, you say they don’t need me anymore, but maybe I need them. Maybe we all need each other to survive. Can’t you see that by now?”

“I never needed anyone to survive. I was doing just fine.”

“Dying of thirst on a drifting boat didn’t look like ‘doing fine’ to me.”

Pain crossed Cal’s face in a spasm, and Mitch wanted to go to him, seeing the distress under his angry exterior. But as he took a step forward, Cal turned away and raked his hands through his hair before turning back to Mitch, clear anguish in his eyes now.

“I…can’t…stay.” He gritted the words out through a clenched jaw, as if they were torn from him. “I can’t stay in one place this long.”

“Why not? What are you afraid of catching up to you? No, don’t answer. It doesn’t matter. It’s part of the old world. This is a new world.”

“If you really believe that, then let’s go! Let’s get off this rust trap and make a new world. Let’s stop hiding in the dark!”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Not yet. I won’t risk the lives of everyone on board—including you—because you have some kind of…of demon chasing you.”

Cal laughed shortly. “Ha! No fucking demons. A few cops. But no demons.”

Mitch stared.
Shit, he just admitted to being a criminal
. Mitch didn’t want to know that. He didn’t. He’d worried about it, that he would find something out about Cal that made Cal just like the others. Did he dare ask what…

He’d stared for too long. Cal had briefly turned away, but he looked back into Mitch’s eyes. What did he read there? Disgust? Contempt? Horror?

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Cal said. He dropped his shoulders, looking defeated.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mitch said. Lied.

“Yeah, it does. You’d never have mentioned my rap sheet that time if it didn’t.” He held Mitch’s gaze for a long moment, then spoke again. “I’ll leave at first light.”

“What? Cal, no, stop this nonsense.”

“Will you give me supplies for a few days? I’ll pick something up ashore after that.”

“Will you please just
talk
to me about this? Explain what’s bothering you. You can’t leave.”

“Am I your prisoner?” He held up his hands, showing the wrists Mitch had once strapped manacles to. “Because that’s the only way you’re going to make me stay this time.”

“I…” The temptation was there, to do everything possible to force him to stay. But that was not the kind of man Mitch wanted to be. “I won’t stop you.”

“Thank you.”

Cal strode past him and out of the room.

* * * *

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