“I thought you left,” Bishop said, her eyes on me as she sharpened the blades.
“No.” I sat up straighter, feeling a crick in my back from the way I’d been sleeping. “I didn’t leave. I was in the building.”
“Stockades?” Bishop asked, and I noticed she was chewing on something. Not food, since she hadn’t swallowed yet, so maybe gum, although she looked like the kind of woman who would chew tobacco.
“No.” I shook my head. “It was a … medical thing. Ask him.” I pointed to where Daniels snored in the corner. “He knows.”
“Does he?” Bishop appeared surprised, then she shrugged. “He seems to know a lot about things.”
“You know each other?” The guy sitting next to her motioned between us.
“She came in with that rock star and Harlow,” Bishop explained.
“Oh.” The guy smiled at that. “Harlow makes the most wonderful clothes. She was a real asset to the community.” He leaned forward extended his hand to me. “I’m Teddy.”
“Remy.” I shook his hand uncertainly, but he just smiled tiredly at me.
“What kind of medical stuff?” Nolita asked, suddenly joining the conversation. She was still looking outside, watching in the early morning light for zombies, but she’d turned to face me more.
“Uh …” I sighed and had no clue how to explain it, or if I even should.
“You’re not infected, are you?” Nolita asked, and I noticed a slight Southern drawl to her voice.
“No.” I shook my head. “Nothing like that. It was just … some experiments.”
“Experiments?” Teddy asked, still smiling, and he cocked his head. “I didn’t know they did that kind of thing there.”
“I’ve heard about the experiments.” Nolita narrowed her eyes at me. “I didn’t think anyone survived them.”
“Well, I did.” I shrugged.
“Are we awake?” Tatum said groggily and stretched next to me. “Oh, yeah, the sun’s up. Guess we are.”
“Boden’s still asleep.” Nolita nodded to where the blond soldier was curled up. “We’ve got a little bit before we have to move out.”
“Oh well, I’m up.” Tatum yawned and sat up. “I have to take a piss anyhow.”
He stood and then hopped over the back of the truck, landing on the ground with a thud. Once he was gone, I took the opportunity to use his space to stretch out my back and arms. Between the way I’d slept last night and not being used to using my muscles, I was sore as hell.
“What kind of experiments was it?” Nolita asked, turning to face me fully. “What’d they do to you?”
“I…” I faltered, still having no clue how to answer. “They took blood mostly. Lots of blood.”
“Why?” Nolita asked, except it sounded more like “whey” when she said it.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask the doctor?”
“He’s not really a doctor,” Bishop said, correcting me. “He’s a scientist.” She’d been looking down at her knives, but she lifted her eyes to meet mine. “His expertise is blood-borne pathogens.”
Nolita tilted her head, eyeing me. “Are you sure you’re not infected?”
“Absolutely positive,” I said and stood up. I didn’t like the way both she and Bishop were staring me down.
Outside of the truck, Tatum swore loudly, and it was instantly followed by the death groan of a zombie.
“Oh damn.” Nolita looked out the back of the truck, aiming her gun.
I ran to the back to see what was happening, but I could already hear Tatum’s gurgled screams. When I leaned out, I could see Tatum standing beside a nearby bush. A huge, fat zombie was on him, tearing out his throat.
4.
I leaped out the back of the truck, although I wasn’t sure what I planned to do. Nolita fired her gun behind me, and the zombie’s head exploded – its brains splattered all over the bush as it fell the ground.
The now-dead bloated zombie took Tatum with it, and they collapsed to the ground in a bloody mess.
I took a few steps toward them, jogging, and then I stopped short. Even from the truck I’d been able to see the damage. There was no way Tatum could survive that. The zombie had literally torn out his throat. I didn’t need to go nearer and get an up close view of that.
“Shit,” I said. I put my hands on my hips and stared at Tatum’s body. “Shit.”
I couldn’t think of anything better to do or say. So I just took a step back, then forward again, and kicked at the ground. I wanted to scream or yell or cry or do anything. But… all I could do was stare at him and say, “Shit.”
“Was anybody hurt?” Daniels asked, and I turned to see that he’d climbed out of the truck.
He was tall and lean, almost lithe like a model, and there was no way he would’ve survived the zombie apocalypse if the army hadn’t been protecting him. He wasn’t that much older than me, and his eyes appeared particularly young.
“How did this happen, Nolita?” Boden demanded. He’d woken up, and he was standing at the back of the truck, glaring down at her. “How did you let this happen on your watch?”