The 40th Day (After the Cure Book 5) (4 page)

Christine was sitting on the ground where Marnie had left her, the contents of both their packs strewn about her. She held a large foil pack in her hands and was frantically trying to chew it open, but it was too thick.

“What are you doing?” asked Marnie.

Christine looked up and dropped the packet into her lap. She wiped some saliva from her chin and her face reddened with embarrassment. “It’s— I was very hungry. It’s the baby, it needs things we don’t have anymore. I know it’s weird, but I’ve been having these cravings for meat for a few days. I found the jerky packet and I was so relieved—”

Marnie reached down for the packet. She twisted the foil and the packet easily tore open. She handed it back to Christine.

“Thought you were the adult here,” she muttered, too low for Christine to hear. She started stuffing equipment back in their packs. There was no way they’d catch up with the couple now. Marnie was almost relieved that the choice to follow them had been taken from her. Anything that meant she didn’t have to think about her mother, about her past life at the Lodge was a relief. Christine choked on a piece of jerky. Marnie turned to look at her. The other woman acted as if she’d been starving.
Never getting pregnant,
Marnie told herself.
Not even if I was the last woman alive.

“Are you okay?” Marnie asked.

Christine chewed the last bit of jerky, swiping her fingers along the bottom of the packet to get any crumbs. “I wish it was fresher. This was tough and dry. Is that all of it?” she asked.

Marnie nodded and Christine burst into tears. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said, “I’m sorry, Marnie. I should be taking care of you, we should already be at your friend’s camp by now, but I’m so slow and clumsy. I’ve never been like this before. And hungry. So hungry.”

Marnie felt a pang of guilt and knelt near her, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s just the baby. It’s okay, we’ll get to the camp and I’m sure they’ll have something there. Henry said there was plenty of food. A few more days, that’s all.”

She helped Christine to her feet, and they packed up the rest of their supplies without speaking again. Marnie led them to the road just as the sun was slipping behind the large hill. Christine stood for a long moment in front of the rubble. No light leaked through the pile, and the only sound were sharp chirp of crickets in the field beside the road. She touched one of the broken shards of concrete. Somewhere, beyond it, her wife was suffering. And Christine was about to leave her behind. She glanced at Marnie who was pacing the width of the road. Maybe she should go back. She got Marnie this far, and the teen knew way more about life beyond the wall than Christine did. She could go back, back to their little apartment and see if she could find Sevita. Christine could keep her safe until they developed a cure. But her friend Nella’s words echoed in her head. “Chris,” she’d said, pressing a small, glittering key to a gun chest into Christine’s palm, “if it starts again, don't hesitate. It's not going to get Cured next time. They're not going to come back anymore.” There had been such finality in her face. “They’re not coming back anymore.” Christine sighed and turned back toward the road, her mind saying a final, silent goodbye to Sevita and hoping she’d find Nella, somewhere soon.

“The last time I left the City was before the Plague. Before Sevita. Everyone I know, everyone who was left, is behind that wall,” said Christine.

“You know
me
,” said Marnie.

Christine smiled, turning toward her. “That’s true,” she said, “and I’m glad you’re on this side of the wall with me.”

They walked up the long hill. Even Marnie was exhausted by the time they reached the top, but the road stretched out in the twilight, either side unbroken emerald of trees and brush. “I passed some buildings when I came. Should only be a few more miles. Can you make it?” Marnie asked.

“Now that we’re on the road, I want to get as far from the City as we can,” said Christine. “Never know who is also fleeing, and I’m hoping you haven’t been exposed yet. Touching that man in the tunnel wasn’t good, but he didn’t breathe on you or drool on you. I hope you are still safe. Let’s keep it that way.”

Marnie nodded and they walked on.

Five

Sweltering darkness. And a loud noise. Nella remembered a loud noise, but not where she was. The dark was suffocating. She couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open. She gasped a great, panicked breath. She was drowning in the dark. Her hands flailed in front of her, as if she could find the shore and something closed around her left arm. She wasn’t alone. Another stuttering breath, but before she could let it out in a scream of terror, a hand pressed over her mouth. And then a stream of heat and damp in her ear.

“It’s okay, it’s okay Nella,” whispered Frank into her ear, taking his hand from her mouth and pulling her closer to him. He brushed the hair away from her face, his voice vibrating in her ear. “It’s just me, it’s okay. We have to be quiet now. There’s somebody outside.”

There was a thump from outside the door. Nella felt a jolt of adrenaline stab into her. Frank tightened around her.

“There’s a door here,” came a girl’s voice. Nella could hear clicking metal and was grateful she’d insisted on locking the door.

“Never mind,” said another voice, “it’s way too late to be wandering around. Besides this is right on the Cure route, there won’t be anything left here, even in the back.”

“But it’s safer back there, no windows. Besides, if it’s empty why is it locked?” The metal clicked again.

Nella felt Frank’s leg pass over her own. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Trying to find the packs,” he whispered.

“Above us,” she whispered back. “But there’s no other door. We can’t leave.”

His arms left her as he searched for the pack. She felt untethered, lost. There was a bang and a shudder. Nella sat up, desperately trying to see anything in the dark. Another bang and shudder. Nella covered her ears with her hands. The next bang leaked through anyway. Frank pulled her back toward the far wall. He held an arm around her.

“You’re only going to wear yourself out,” came a voice. The banging stopped. “Even if you get it open, you’ll break the lock and it’ll be no safer than out here.”

“But why’s it locked?”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s a contraband drop off point. Or maybe someone locked an Infected back there a long time ago. Or maybe it’s nothing. Just habit, left over from Before. A self-locking door unless you have the key. I’m too tired to care. You should be too. We still have a long way to go tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” yawned the girl, “guess you’re right. I just feel so exposed out here.”

“We haven’t seen anyone for hours, and everyone knows this area has been picked clean. Nobody’s going to bother us.”

A few scuffling noises and then silence. Nella still felt panicked, the damp sauna air still pressing on her chest. If only she could open the door to find the sunlight streaming through the glass, the cool morning breeze filtering through the drafty window corners. Frank’s hand dropped into her lap. She let her fingers graze over it.

“Careful,” he whispered, “gun.”

“You’re getting way too comfortable with that,” she said.

“I know. I can’t help thinking everyone is a threat.”

“Everyone was a threat before, but when I met you, you said you’d never be able to shoot anyone.”

“When you met me, I wasn’t sure if I cared to stay alive. We risked so much, worked so hard— how did this happen?”

“The only people that know are probably dead or Infected, Frank. This isn’t our fault.”

“We have to stop it. Do you think the people out there are from the City?”

“We saw the gate— I don’t think anyone’s successfully come out that way. The only holes large enough already had bodies in them. And we saw the harbor. All the boats are gone.”

“There are other exits. Small ones.”

“Yes.”

Frank lifted his hand, the gun still in it, and leaned forward. “They could be carrying the Infection. They’ll spread it—”

Nella reached out, trying to find his arm in the dark. “They could be Immune. They could be coming
to
the City. They’ve done us no harm.” Her hand found his shoulder.

“Yet,” said Frank, “but if we let them go, they’ll infect other people. It will just keep spreading and spreading. Nowhere will ever be safe again.”

“Frank, people have been infected for two months now. In all that time, you think nobody came to the City to trade? Or that no scav teams left? No one decided they wanted to see what this Cured Colony was up to? The ground around the station was littered with camp trash. The people in the next room might be from the City. But they aren’t the first. And probably not the last. For all we know, we could be infected too. We were covered in blood from the woman in the cooler.
We
could be spreading it. You can’t just eliminate anyone who
might
be infected.”

“So we’re just supposed to sit here and let it happen?”

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. I don’t have any answers either. I’m just trying to remind you that those are human beings out there. Just like you and me. Maybe they are
good people
. Maybe, if they are sick, they’ll recover and beat it. Or maybe they are Immune. Or maybe, Frank, they are just sick. Not evil, just sick. I know you’ve said if it were you, you’d consider it mercy, that you wouldn’t want to be sick again. But if there is a cure someday— isn’t there enough life left to make survival worthwhile? Isn’t what we have enough?”

She felt his arm relax and droop. He slid away from her and she heard the slow zip of a pocket opening. Then he was back, pulling her back to the floor with him. She felt a deep sigh shudder through his chest, though he was careful to stay quiet. “What are we supposed to do?” he asked.

“For now, we trust Sevita. We go find this colony, and see what they think. We have to believe the disease is contained. We need help, Frank. Not just warm bodies, but real, human community. We can’t do this alone anymore. It’s too big. Maybe, if we hadn’t done it alone before—”

“I thought you said this wasn’t our fault.”

“It’s Robert Pazzo’s fault,” she spat, feeling the name like a bitter, rusted nail between her lips. “But that doesn’t make the mess any easier to clean up.”

“First we’re going to have to figure out a way out of here. They may try the door again in the morning.”

“Hopefully, they’ll just leave. Let’s not borrow trouble,” Nella yawned. “We’ve got enough already.”

Six

Henry squinted at the crowded field.

“These people are going to get sick, Henry. We’re all on the same water. If we don’t move the facilities, the waste is going to draw pests or we’re going to have an outbreak. It was okay when we had just the latrines across the road and the house toilet, but there are too many people here now. We have to do something, and it’s got to be fast. I’ve seen it before. A few days, a week maybe, with this many people and those latrines will be full. That’s not to mention what poor Vincent has to do with the quarantine waste. Those plastic barrels aren’t going to last him forever.” Amos crossed his arms and sighed. “And that’s not even addressing the issue of water.”

“We’re working as hard as we can. We have to get these people into houses and the rest of the wall up, even if it’s only on the field side. We can’t just let people wander in, that defeats the whole point of quarantine.”

“So does cholera and dysentery. We have to get this done.”

“We just don’t have enough hands.”

“Ask Father Preston’s people. I respect a person’s right to pray, Henry, but they’ve got to do more than that. I don’t think there’s anyone telling them what needs to be done. Vincent could have, but— what about Gray?”

Henry shook his head. “Something’s wrong with him. I don’t know what he wants from Father Preston, but I don’t buy him as a true believer for a second.”

“If he wants to eat, he can work. And get the others working. Have them dig new latrines. No—” Amos stopped for a second. “No, if your gut says he’s bad news then I trust it. If he does the latrines, he could make us sick if he wanted to. Have him finish the wall with his people. That’s simple enough.”

“I can do the latrines, if you tell me where they ought to go. I’ve no idea how all this works. Didn’t bargain on all this when I dragged you out here.”

Amos grinned. “Yeah, well, nothing like a practical education. We’ll do it together. The others can handle the farm. You get people organized. I’m going to take Rickey and the truck for supplies.”

Henry hesitated. “There might be Infected out there.”

Amos nodded. “I know. But some things we aren’t going to be able to do ourselves. I have to find some pipe for irrigation or we’re going to be out of clean water in a week. And the latrines have to be lined with something, or we might as well not dig em.” He clapped a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “This isn’t exactly how I planned it either, but I’m still glad to be here. It’s going to be hard work to get us through the winter, but believe me when I say that I’ve been through worse without the help we’ve got now. I’ve dealt with the Infected before, I won’t let us bring the disease back. We won’t go far. You worry about getting those people working on the wall.”