Toxic (42 page)

“I’m also very happy to have gotten out of there,” the marine responded.

The Colombian gave him a contrite look.

On the boat, Elaine saw Dew and Alison standing and looking in their direction.

“And now?” Bruce asked.

“We find a clam place to hide out. Hector needs to rest.”

“Yeah, I think we all do.”

“W
e’ll, it might not be paradise, but I think this will do for as long as we need to get back on our feet,” Masters declared, handing the binoculars to the biologist.

The two men were scanning the green shore of one of the islands in the Keys archipelago, which they had reached after a day of sailing.

Behind them, Elaine observed the duo with interest. Did the colonel consider the young scientist one of his recruits? By the looks of things, it was becoming more and more that way, she guessed, at the moment when the soldier put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder like an older mentor congratulating his protégé. Masters gave her a signal, to which Elaine responded with a smile. Bruce had a keen mind. His intuition had gotten them out of difficult situations twice. However, the nurse always imagined him in the hospital hallway once again, his gaze furtive and his attitude apologetic. She clearly remembered the words chosen by her own mind in a state of confusion when the horde had just crossed the double doors at the entrance to the pediatric emergency ward.

Elaine closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to get rid of the onslaught of images of gaping mouths. Sitting on the stern railing, the biologist continued his observations. His forehead creased when he stopped his slow sweep.

“I see three L-Ds together near an alley. Are you sure you want to get off here?”

The soldier assured him that the place had its advantages.

“You saw when we arrived; the island has been cut off by the rise in the water level eight hundred meters from here. Less than a kilometer in the other direction, the bridge to Key West has sunk. That means that the area is isolated. The zone to secure is relatively small and surrounded by swamps. If there are still living dead, we’ll get rid of them. I doubt we’ll find a lot of them, but we’ll definitely have to deal with them before settling in here.”

His analysis received a reserved and silent welcome. Alva, leaning against the mast with her hand to her forehead, commented on the state of the buildings and their roofs, which were crushed by the fall of palm trees uprooted by the force of the wind.

“We’ll find the right place,” the marine assured her.

The storm had disfigured the postcard panorama, transforming it into a sort of battlefield covered in debris. Elaine went up to Bruce and asked him for the binoculars.

Two pleasure boats, their hulls leaning to the side, blocked a narrow path that went towards the “downtown” of a village cut in half by the highway. It linked the continent at Key West through the series of bridges and islands that formed a half-circle to the south of Florida, like a cynical finger pointed at Cuba.

“We also need to restock supplies. There’s a shopping mall not far from here,” Masters continued, in a calm voice accompanied by a discreet blinking of his eyes that Elaine had learned to recognize when he appeared annoyed.

The marine was absolutely set on staying in this place. With Hector’s seat vacant, he was becoming the leader. Nature was terrified of emptiness. One man was filling the other’s shoes, she told herself. The Colombian hadn’t recovered his health after his operation. The absence of pain killers meant he had a long and painful recovery ahead of him.

“Do you know the area?” she asked him with false naivety.

Once again, the corner of the colonel’s lips tightened. “I came here before the invasion and it was already a godforsaken hole.”

“Not so godforsaken that you forgot about it.”

The soldier avoided her stare and then went back to the helm.

“We need to decide. The alternatives are rather limited.”

“I agree with anchoring here,” Bruce said in support. “If you know the area, that’s an advantage.”

Dewei nodded discreetly, the nurse remarked. Alva sighed. “Here or elsewhere, I’m down.”

Elaine looked at Masters. “And the infected? Who will deal with them?”

With a movement of his head, the marine indicated Hector’s shotgun. “Me and Bruce will clear out the area. When we get back, each of us will be able to relax. We all deserve a bit of rest.”

Sailing slowly and with an expert hand, the semi-sub maneuvered towards a dock partially covered by mangroves. Anchoring here would keep them out of the sun, which had no regard for the survivors. The ocean breeze also brought a freshness that delighted everyone. Each of them got to tying up the boat while the colonel jumped out to inspect the state of the pontoon. Elaine raised her eyes towards the canopy through which the rays of light would not easily penetrate. She hoped that it would be the same for the alien drones, though she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Alison pulled her by the sleeve while she finished helping Bruce by checking the knots. If a storm came, they didn’t want the semi-sub to go off floating wherever. Hector wouldn’t forgive them for such neglect.

“Elaine, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my dear. What is it?”

The child took her aside. “The medicine… We’re still going to look for it, right?”

The nurse got down on her knees in front of the young girl and grabbed her hands.

“I’m afraid that things are more complicated than that.”

“Because the big boat sunk?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“But we’ll find it? You promised.”

The encounter with the dealers, Hector’s injury and their escape had drained them, putting the quest for the antidote aside for better days. They were also lacking evidence as to its potential location. In the immediate future, they all needed to take a breather.

“We’re going to rest and eat first, and then we’ll think of a way. Hector also needs to get better.”

Before Alison’s doubtful attitude, Elaine took her hands. “We’ll keep on looking for it; I promise you; but we’re all exhausted. I know that it’s hard to understand, but it’s the truth. A rest will let us recharge our batteries. It’ll be good for you too.”

“I’m not tired,” Alison maintained, with a fierce look to her.

Elaine raised an eyebrow. “You know, wounds aren’t just physical.”

The girl’s face suddenly hardened. “Sometimes, you talk like mom.”

The response shook Elaine, who got up, preferring to end the conversation.

“You don’t get off until Bruce and Masters have secured the area, OK?”

Alison nodded.

Marisol...

Was this an illusion? A ghost? Transported through space and time to Buenaventura, Hector had felt her presence against him and the heat of her body. Her smooth skin had awoken former sensations as he swam between dream and reality. The softness resembled the pale reflections of a postcard framed on the wall like the promise of a future that never came to be. The pain, on the other hand, seemed real. Each time that he moved his shoulder, he groaned and panted, and his eyes remained closed. His physical suffering was mixed with that of his past memories to the point of confusing them.

Marisol...

A familiar explosion brought him back to the real world like an old bottle pushed towards the bank. He opened his eyes to the patina roof of his tiny cabin. The moist air stunk of sweat. He tried to get up on his elbows but the movement caused him to grimace. He let himself fall back down and tried again, leaning on his other shoulder. He heard a second muffled gunshot.

“¡Madre de Dios!”

He managed to reach his cup. It was empty, of course.

“Qué putas pasa...” he mumbled with his dry mouth.

“I’ll help you.”

The feminine voice was close and wasn’t like Marisol’s. In his memories, she was younger and proudly displayed her interminably long black hair by running her fingers through it. He squinted and recognized the nurse.

“Hola, chica.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she told him, pouring the water for him.

He drank it all in one sip, wetting his throat and freeing his words.

“What’s happening? Where are we? I need to get out of here...”

“Stay lying down or you’re going to bleed.”

“I heard a gunshot, just now.”

Or was it just five minutes ago? He didn’t know any more.

“Masters and Bruce are clearing out the area.”

He had to return to his post. With a movement that he intended to be lively and assured, he pushed his legs out of the bed and, swaying, leaned on his arm. The mistake tore a scream of pain form him.

“You can’t move!” the chica intervened, keeping him in his place with a hand on his t-shirt.

“I need to get out of here,” he groaned.

“Everything is under control. There are only a few infected in the area. There aren’t many. I forbid you from getting up. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“Since I saved your life, I can use the title.”

The Colombian gave up and lay back down grumbling. He let Elaine examine him and change his bandages. While she was caring for him, another gunshot resounded.

Faced with isolated L-Ds, the hunt was a very easy one.

With the creatures incapable of matching their speed, the elimination campaign presented itself under the best auspices. In general, only sheer numbers or surprise were real problems for healthy humans. Bruce approached his second L-D peacefully. The disfigured woman was crawling along the moist earth, leaving behind a red trail. With bloody stumps for legs, she could no longer stand. Her jaw hung and her torn cheeks revealed a row of rotten teeth. Her right arm was also missing, so she used the other one to drag herself along. She looked at him with an animal intensity, like that of a famished savage beast. Her fingers grabbed at the broken asphalt, towing along her putrid carcass in the hopes of reaching the biologist, who was squatting a few steps away. The smell was barely tolerable.

Bruce closed his eyes at the moment when he pushed down on the trigger of Masters’ 45. The infected woman’s head exploded, spreading rotten flesh all over the beaten ground.

The colonel came out of a shrub overhanging the entrance to a villa. The marine checked his side of the street that they had already followed for one hundred meters until reaching the highway. The neighborhood had few houses and those that were still standing since the hurricane were deserted, abandoned to the four winds and sometimes isolated zombies. Two steps from a worm-eaten wood doorway, Masters shot his third L-D.

The two men didn’t find any more creatures until reaching the intersection. There seemed to be few living dead, which confirmed their initial impressions. The soldier held out the shotgun. The far end of the barrel was pointing at the sidewalk in front of them.

“The shopping mall is that way.”

Bruce spotted a piece of the MacDonald’s sign above a low, sour-colored building with a turquoise roof and cream-colored walls dotted with pink-framed windows. The surrounding offices all had the same architectural style. They were also in better shape than the residential neighborhoods. The colonel explained what was going to happen next.

“There are stores, a pharmacy, a small hospital, one or two restaurants and an old movie theater. The perimeter is easy to defend and the clear view will make surveillance easy. The priority is to go over each place, bit by bit, before moving in. The clinic has two floors, which will be perfect. We’ll start there.”

Bruce frowned with surprise. “So, you’ve already been here.”

“Yeah. I’m familiar with this island.”

Masters didn’t say anything else and Bruce didn’t dare ask for any more specifics. The two men crossed the road separated by a median invaded by bushes. They passed the restaurant on their left and then the pharmacy on their right. They crossed a green street. The marine, keeping watch, clutched the butt of the gun. He had almost been done in by similar circumstances and this time, he didn’t have the sports bag to protect him from a sneak attack. On the other side, they came out at the hospital parking. It was empty.

“Where are the vehicles?”

“No idea. Maybe the town was evacuated, which would explain the low L-D population. Because you can’t get to the island by land any more, I imagine that their numbers aren’t going to go up,” the colonel suggested.

Bruce shook his gun. “Yeah. They can only go down.”

Their inspection started at the far end of the medium-sized building. Progressing room by room, they found abandoned equipment and no living souls, and not even an infected person, to Bruce’s great relief. The clinic had clearly suffered, but compared to the establishment in West Palm Beach where they had taken Hector, with a general cleaning, a coat of paint and replacing the broken windows, the place would be back to almost normal. Beyond that fact, which was rather reassuring, it looked like the comfort level was going to be austere: the lights didn’t work, and it was the same for the running water, the biologist checked, turning on the tap for the shower attached to a room.