Zombies! Episode 2 - Abby's Bad Day (7 page)

"Ma'am?" said one of the officers. He was the
one who's came in with a sledge hammer, a big muscled black guy
with a shaved head and the eyes of a stuffed teddy bear. "What if
they try to run?"

Luco hesitated. She hadn't thought of that.
She knew what she wanted to say, but she didn't know how it would
go. She couldn't very well instruct them to physically restrain
which left only one option. "Shoot them. Disable them."

They didn't like that answer. She could tell
they didn't. But they didn't say anything. Not with their mouths
anyway.

Once they popped the seals on the ER, Culph
took charge, once again using Heron's attention as authority to set
himself above the rest. Luco hated to admit it, but he was a
natural. He positioned the other cops, two by the door to exam one
instead of the one she had ordered. The rest of them ushered the
survivors into the other rooms. They gave the zombie trap a wide
berth, eying it cautiously as they went past.

While that was going on, Luco ordered Mancina
to cannibalize his staff and provide her with nurses and
technicians. She got on the phone and ordered a bunch of her stuff
brought over from the Manhattan hospital where Johan Stemmy had
died. She needed blood from the survivors, blood from the zombies
and blood from the floor. She wanted bits of flesh and DNA. She
wanted every last tissue sample she could get her hands on.

At some point, Captain Naughton showed up. A
week before, Luco had never met him. Now she had met with him six
times. Her boyfriend thought they were having an affair. That was
only half a joke. Naughton was his usual composed, impeccably
dressed self. It was good to see the way his cheeks paled at the
sight of the carnage in the ER. It showed at least that he was
human. He commented that it was odd that Heron had left her in
charge but didn't try to override it. It didn't matter because
Heron returned with the security guard in tow moments later.

Luco smiled. It was a good smile. Only Heron
was suspicious of it and that was because he didn't like her. "You
must be Todd."

"Do I have to go back in there?" Todd asked,
indicating the ER. "I don't want to. I don't ever want to."

He was already sick. She could see it in his
eyes and hear it in his speech. Stemmy had looked and sounded like
that, but Stemmy had undergone a terrible physical trauma followed
by surgery. He was hardly a point of reference.

In the end, they set Todd up on a gurney in
the waiting area. It didn't alter the risk of infection. They'd all
been exposed when she'd opened up the ER and they would all need to
be tested. That was a lot of blood work. Still, she ran the
situation tirelessly, never missing a beat and paying keen
attention to the details. She wrote some instructions on a piece of
paper and gave them to a nurse. The nurse looked from the paper to
the doctor as if she suspected that Luco wasn't actually a doctor.
But she didn't say anything and got one of Luco's coldest stares
for her trouble. Todd's IV was set up and he was hooked up to
monitors. They began taking fluids from all portions of his body
right away.

It was going to be a long night.

***

ABBY
spoke with Heron in private. Ever
since their conversation on the phone, she had been preoccupied
with the connection between the infection and
Push Ups
.
Heron had said that if she was infected she would know it. She'd be
sick. How long was Karl sick before he was too weak to hold that
weight and dropped it on his foot? How long had Larry been sick?
Had he brought the disease to the gym from his home or brought it
home from the gym?

"I don't have the answers to any of those
questions," Heron told her honestly. "Dr. Luco might have a better
idea."

"Those people, the ones that Karl bit. They
turned so quickly."

"Their wounds were fatal."

"Not that doctor's. She wasn't gone yet, but
she was going." Abby dipped her head. "Dr. Leke knew that. She used
that poor woman as bait so the rest of us could get away. I suppose
it's just as well she didn't make it out herself. I'd never have
been able to live with that."

Heron didn't answer right away.

"Anyway," Abby continued. "Why was it a week
for Karl and only hours for that doctor?"

"I don't know," Heron said. "Maybe Karl had a
strong immune system. Maybe the doctor's was weak. Maybe it's just
quicker from a bite. Anyway, Dr. Luco's going to test all of you so
you'll know one way or the other pretty soon."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Abby
confessed. "It's my son."

***

"
HEY
! Are you Martin Benjamin?"

Martin, getting impatient, was just answering
a call from Abby, who he hadn't been able to reach previously. The
cop approaching him seemed determined.

"Yeah," Benjamin said. "In a minute." He
answered the phone. "Abby?"

"Martin, it's me. They've got everything
under control now."

The cop got to him and stood impatiently in
front of him.

"That's a relief. What exactly happened?"

"There's not a lot of time. There's a disease
and it's affected two people from the gym. We're all going to be
tested in here and you should be tested, too."

"Jesus, Abby."

"Martin, when was the last time you spoke
with my parents?"

He thought for a moment. "Not too long ago,"
he said. "Fifteen minutes."

"How's Sammy? Is he all right?"

In addition to his large frame, Martin was
quick witted. It didn't take him a second to make the connection
Abby had made. His voice dropped in tenor and his face went pale.
It was so abrupt a change that the impatient police officer
suddenly became patient.

"His fever's back," Martin said. "Your
parents have given him ibuprofen."

"Okay," Abby answered. "Okay."

"What's going to happen to him, Abby?"

"It's… Maybe nothing. You need to bring him
here. My parents, too. They all need to be tested."

"I won't let it happen. I've seen the films.
I'll…"

"Martin," Abby said gently. "Is there a
policeman with you, waiting for you?"

For the first time since the call began,
Martin looked up at the cop. He was a bland kind of guy, mid
thirties, decent experience.

"Yeah," Martin said. "He's here."

"He's going to take you to get them. Go with
him."

Martin felt his eyes glaze over. "I love you,
Abby."

"I know that, stupid. I love you, too. Now,
hurry."

And then they were off.

***

HERON
sat in the waiting area just
watching as Todd declined. With the arrival of Naughton, he'd taken
it upon himself to go off duty. He was tired and anxious. Zombies
were bad enough but he still had surgery to look forward to. Dr.
Luco had managed to transform the entire waiting area into a
laboratory. She'd recruited nurses and techs from the hospital,
warning them all about the dangers of getting involved with the
infection. She had personally taken blood samples from each of the
day's survivors as well as Abby's family and the police officers
involved. She sent them with techs to be analyzed and would have to
view the results herself but for now she wanted to be with Todd.
She spoke to him and soothed him, hanging bag after bag of some IV
solution that Heron could only assume was the same antibiotics that
had been no help to Stemmy a week before. Or maybe they were
different. He observed the puzzlement on the faces of the techs and
nurses every time she gave an order.

Naughton approached him. "Did you call
Alicia?"

Heron nodded.

"Are you still having the surgery
tomorrow?"

Heron shook his head. "Day after. My doctor's
got privileges at another hospital."

Naughton made a sound of approval as if the
situation was his to approve. "I've got to make a statement to the
press in ten minutes."

"Better you than me."

The captain grinned. "The chief wants me to
assemble a special squad to deal with any further outbreaks."

"A zombie task force," Heron laughed.

"Pretty much." Naughton paused for a full
minute, allowing Heron to know what was on his mind and to sweat it
out. "I'd like you to lead the task force."

Heron nodded. "I figured as much. You know I
can't do it."

"Anthony, there's no one else. I'll be the
first to tell you that there are better detectives. Forgive my
insensitivity but you're half a cop without Stemmy." That hurt a
bit and it was meant to. Naughton was trying to bait him. "But I've
got to tell you, Anthony, you took charge of this situation as well
as anyone's ever taken charge of anything. And it seems you're now
the official department expert on zombies."

Heron laughed. "Go to hell, Lance."

"I'm serious. I've got about six minutes left
and I need to tell the media something."

"I'm scheduled for surgery day after tomorrow
and it'll be a week after before I can even start to think about
doing work at home."

Naughton nodded. "I know all that, Anthony.
But you've got tomorrow. Come down and assemble who and what you
need. Pick a second in command to get things off the ground and
then take your week. You'll get hazard pay."

Heron went thin lipped as he considered the
proposal. He pushed aside all thoughts of money and inconvenience
and, most especially, prestige. Too keenly aware of what had
occurred today and that it would happen again and again without
someone or something to stand in its way, he couldn't see any way
to refuse. Even though he desperately wanted to. So he nodded.

"On two conditions, Lance."

"Name them."

"I won't speak to the press. Not now."

"Okay. No problem. Tomorrow though? We need
to put a face on this thing before you go under the knife."

"Okay. Tomorrow morning. Late."

"Perfect. I'll have it arranged. What's the
other condition?"

Heron grinned.

***

THEY'D
set up a makeshift podium.
There were people gathered around it but all Lance Naughton saw
were the microphones and the cameras. They didn't frighten him the
way they did so many other high profile officers. He'd gotten used
to them, learned how to satisfy them without divulging anything he
didn't want them to know. This, however, was a different situation.
It called for a different tactic.

Naughton made his statement, telling the
press just about everything there was to tell. He didn't lie and he
didn't twist the truth. He used the word
zombie
. He urged
people to be cautious about physical contact with other people. He
urged people who were feeling ill to seek help immediately. He
urged people who might encounter a zombie to call the police
immediately. Most of all, though, he brought home the point that
this was not the end of the world. People had been afraid of SARS.
They'd been afraid of the H1N1 virus. Hell, they'd been afraid of
West Nile. But none of it spelled the apocalypse and neither would
this. The best way for people to help the police and the health
department get a handle on the infection was to continue about
their everyday business. Shops and schools had to open. Buses and
trains had to run. People needed to buy groceries and fix leaky
faucets. None of that was going to change and Naughton expressed
the hope that this new news would become old news very quickly.

Before leaving the podium, he informed the
press that, at the mayor's insistence, he had assigned Detective
Anthony Heron the duty of leading the zombie task force. He sang
Heron's praises, citing numerous occasions on which his work had
been vital to the success of an operation. He mentioned that Heron
had been present for both zombie encounters and taken charge of the
one at the hospital. Lives had been saved because of his
involvement. He did
not
mention Heron's cancer nor did he
mention the surgery and the week he wouldn't even be involved in
the operation. He promised them statements from both Heron and Luco
the following day.

And, true to his reputation, Naughton left
the press satisfied and with plenty of material for the evening's
and morning's stories.

***

OFFICER
Francis Culph was chosen as
second in command of the zombie task force. The decision was made
on the spot and held up in the face of Naughton's objections. Heron
had chosen Culph for the same reasons that Naughton had chosen
Heron. The other policemen, those who had secured the ER with
Culph, had each been offered positions on the task force. Four
accepted and three declined.

Culph went home excited. Unlike Heron, he was
very enthralled with both the money and the prestige this
opportunity granted him. He was as impetuous as he seemed, though
he would learn to keep it in check for the sake of his job and his
life.

When he arrived at his one bedroom Brooklyn
apartment late that night his girlfriend was waiting for him in a
pink teddy. She'd been there for three hours and was past the point
of seduction and just glad to see him. When he told her what had
happened she expressed first disbelief, then fear, and then
contempt. She did not approve of his new assignment. Still wired
from the day's events and its culmination, Culph reacted the only
way someone of his nature could. He hit her.