Beneath the Flesh: They kept all the demons out … except one (2 page)

In the early afternoon, they went down to the infirmary. Dr Patel showed Jess inside while Luke waited out the front. She closed the blinds, and asked Jess to take off her shirt.

“How've you been feeling?' she said as she measured how far the boundaries of the infection had spread.

“It hurts,” Jess replied. “Like always.”

“Anything else?”

Jess considered lying, but decided against it. “I thought I saw something come out of one of the holes.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know. A spider leg, or antenna, or something.”

Patel made a non-committal “Hrm” noise. She had a poke around in on of the holes, which felt weird but not painful.

Jess slipped her shirt back on. “Does it help?”

“Does what help?”

“Knowing that the parasite has started peeping out. Does it help at all? Do you know what it's going to do now?”

Patel looked at her sadly, then shook her head. “No,” she said softly.

Of course not – no one had ever seen the parasite before. Jess wondered sometimes if Patel just went through all this rigamarole to give herself the illusion of power, the idea that this might be solvable.

They had determined precisely one thing from all these examination: That the extent of the holes were spreading more quickly, and at this rate they'd cover her whole body in four weeks. What would happen then? Jess had no idea. She suspected death – or worse.

“Do you want me tell Luke about the … spider legs?” said Patel.

“No. He's got enough to worry about.”

Jess finished buttoning up her shirt and inspected herself in the mirror. At least the holes hadn't extended past her neck. For now, between her office-bound assignments and her thick shirts, she'd been able to keep them a secret from everyone but Patel and Luke. But if the rest of the compound found out, that would be it. Paranoia about infections was high – and in fairness that was partly justified. What if she turned into a runner? Never mind that
this
infection had gone on for months without that happening, while every other transformation happened within hours at the most.

No, she had no doubt that if it got out, she'd be run out of town at best and incinerated at worst. And for Luke and Patel, as her conspirators, the chances were hardly better. Patel might get some leniency because killing your only qualified doctor was a poor survival choice, but that's about it.

She shrugged the thought off. “So, what's this new plan you've that'll actually fix things?”

“I can't guarantee it'll fix anything,” Patel said, heading towards the door. She opened it and spoke through it to Luke: “You can come in now.”

With the three of them settled, Patel began to explain the plan:

“I've come to the conclusion that we can't progress any further without surgery. Now, you may have noticed …” She gave them a small, sad smile. “… that we're really not set up for any sort of complex surgery here.”

“Not anything I'd survive, anyway,” said Jess.

“Uh, no. But I think in these conditions, we might just be able to pull off a laparoscopy, a keyhole surgery. It's still a risk, you understand, but with proper management, I think it might have a very good outcome. I want to go in investigate some of the larger holes in your body, and investigate the abdominal cavity through a small incision. With any luck, we might learn more about this. We might even be able to find a way to extract the parasite.”

“With you so far.”

“But we'd still need some specialised equipment to do that. A laparoscope and general anaesthetics, at the very least, which we don't have here.”

“And, of course, we can't rely on getting them through trade,” Jess said.

Luke sat forward: “But I have a way of getting them.”

Patel pursed her lips. “I should say, so we're clear, I'm opposed to this plan. But since I can't stop Luke …”

“What?” said Jess.

“I'm going to go and scavenge all the stuff Dr Patel needs. And maybe some extra in the process. You remember the big hospital in the centre of the city?”

Jess stared at him. “Please don't tell me you're going to try and scavenge from Bridgham.”

“Yep,” said Luke.

Even Foxglove Compound didn't like to scavenge from the centre of Bridgham. It was as close to suicidal as you could get without jumping on a runner and trying to hug it. For two reasons: The first was that it with its old and crumbling architecture, it was full of hiding places for beasts and runners.

The second was rather more important: It was host to some new structure charitably called the temple. The temple resembled less a temple than a termite hive – if such a hive was five hundred metres tall, covered in thorns and spikes, made of some wet, fleshly-looking black and grey material, and could get inside the mind of everyone who got too close.

As the compounds around the country began to form, and exchange mail, it slowly became clear that there were dozens of temples scattered across the country, usually near what had once been the biggest population centres. It was difficult to disentangle the myths from the truths – the only common theme was that they seemed to be hotspots of demon activity, and that if you came too close to one, you'd suffer hallucinations – visions, whisperings in your ear, getting worse the closer you came.

And while Paradise Compound did run it's trade route through Bridgham, it stuck to the south, far from the temple. The hospital meanwhile, was further north, closer to the temple, maybe close enough to be affected by it.

In short, just popping down to the hospital was idiotic.

Jess said as much to Luke.

“Yes, I know it's dangerous,” he said. “But without it, you might die.”

“And with it, we both might die,” Jess said. “All of this just so you can get a look inside me? It's not worth the risk.”

“
You're
worth the risk.”

Jess looked away from him. “I'm not,” she said. Then, so he didn't have a chance to respond to that, went on: “How are you going to do this anyway? We've got duty rosters. You can't just sneak out the compound and then turn up a couple days later with some medical equipment.”

“I've got that covered too,” said Luke. “We're going to get permission. There's all sorts of medical equipment there, and everyone knows Paradise is running low. We can just call it a general run – no one needs to know about your condition. We just need a few volunteers and an armoured jeep to take us out there, and it'll be fine.”

“And what about the volunteers?”

“Look, just accept that I'll get it sorted, okay? You just need to wait for a couple more weeks, and I'll get everything you need.”

Jess sighed. She glanced back at Dr Patel, who was clearly keeping out of it. Eventually she said, “You promise you're going to bring back the other equipment, and not just the stuff I need?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I volunteer,” she said softly.

There was silence for a moment. Patel spoke first: “I'm not sure that's wise.”

“No,” said Luke. “You can't. You're ill, Jess. You can't do this. Just wait here and I'll do it. I'll look after you.”

“Yeah, I'm ill. I'm not fucking incapable. I'm not going to sit here like some … some charity case while you run off to try and serve me.” Yelling like that caught her by surprise as much as it did Luke and Dr Patel. She settled herself and continued. “If you insist on doing this, then I'm going too. And we're doing this to get supplies for the whole compound, not just me.”

“Jessica –” began Luke.

“If you think of doing this without me, I'll go out there myself to try and find you, you fucking hear me? You're not the only one who can be pig-headed.”

Luke looked away from her, to Dr Patel, then back again. “Okay,” he conceded at last. “I can't stop you.”

The evening was a busy one: First, as dusk fell, came the double funeral for Tom and the headless J. Doe who had been put to rest by the town's brave guards. The standard respects were read out. Some people prayed; others held their heads low in silence.

After, to celebrate the van's arrival, came the standard feast, with its drivers flanking Mayor Alice Mason at the head of the table. Driving in the wilderness was one of the most dangerous and essential jobs, and nearly everyone agreed drivers deserved a great deal of respect when they finished their shift. For the night, an entire three chickens were serves up, along with more than enough servings of crickets and mice.

It wasn't until after the feast, as things began to wind down, that Luke was able to talk to the mayor. He shifted over to a seat beside her and asked her of he could make a pitch even though it was supposed to be off-time.

For Alice Mason, there was no off-time. “Of course,” she said.

She was a short woman, but after a few minutes talking to her you could be forgiven for feeling like you were the short one. She was entirely sympathetic to whatever problems weren't your fault – but also left you in no doubt that she wouldn't take any shit. She had a vision for the compound, and strong beliefs about how civilisation should go: he apocalypse should be no excuse for giving up civilised values. And she fought for that position with ceaseless energy.

When the compound began to come together, she had been of several people pushing the idea that they needed to elect their leaders. In the first election, she'd won with 72% of the vote. Under her guidance, the compound had been separated into its inner and outer sections, and had begun to give construction and farming bigger roles. A year later, she won again, with 55%.

She let Luke finish hit pitch about how Paradise Compound was lacking medical equipment, and how much medical equipment could be worth if they had enough of it. Then, when he mentioned the hospital, she held up a hand to stop him.

“Are you suggesting we go to the hospital to scavenge what we need?”

Cutting to the point like this caught Luke off guard. After a moment to compose himself he answered, “Well, uh, yeah.”

“No.” The mayor gave him a hard look with just a hint of kindness, and continued, “We all know how dangerous that area is. I can't justify such a risk – at least not unless the medical situation becomes urgent.”

“But –” Luke began. He stopped when he saw the look in the mayor's eyes.

“Go on,” she said at last, with a tone that implied
and be respectful.

“I have two points. First – what if you asked Dr Patel about the state of the medical supplies? About the operations we can't do and when we'll run out of medicines?”

She nodded slowly. “Has Dr Patel asked you to do this?”

“No.” He decided it would be best to be as honest as he could. “I've talked about this mission with her. She doesn't want me to go, but she is lacking equipment.”

“Okay. And what's the second point?”

“You always said we had to maintain civilised values. Like freedom. If I want to go out there, I think it should be my choice.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then sighed. “Yes. I won't stop you.”

“And if anyone chooses to come with me?”

“That too,” she said. “But if you do this, it won't be official. I won't order it. I won't even ask for volunteers. And I'm not willing to let you have a van or a jeep either – our livelihood depends on those vehicles.”

Walking all the way to Bridgham, and then through it to the hospital, with demons hiding every step of the way? That really
was
suicidal. But what else could he do? “Okay,” he said. “You'll talk to the doctor though, right?”

“I have some time tomorrow. I'll ask her about the state of the surgery, but apart from that, I'm making no promises.”