What the hell am I feeling? Horrified, yes, but more the sort of horror associated with a cockroach in my kitchen as opposed to the steady decline of humanity. If it was all voluntary, who cared? All my initial horror centered around using the park as an execution method. But maybe this is just what happens at the end of the world. Things go to shit and so do people.
We walked home in silence. I didn’t expect much conversation from Dax, but even Tony seemed unusually quiet; no quiet jabs, no snarky one-liners reassuring us that he was in fact the dominant force here.
“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked. “Why didn’t you just tell us?”
“Oh, that would’ve been a fun conversation,” he said. “‘Hey guys, they fight zombies to the death. Wanna go see who makes it out alive tonight?’ You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
He was right. It sounded like something he’d make up to upset me.
We marched quietly down our street. I could see now why we hadn’t brought Evie; the ghouls would have set her off immediately, and beyond that, she probably would have run right into the arena to help the living guys out.
Hell. She might become a post-apocalyptic pet superstar.
“How long have you known?” I asked.
Tony sighed. “I found out almost right after I got here,” he said. “Keller brought me to a game as soon as I was taped up. Watched me the whole time…so I shrugged and said it was probably good for them to blow off steam. Seemed to convince him I was okay with it. Haven’t gone back since, though.”
I guessed that meant he found the whole thing sketchy, too.
More and more, I was wishing we’d stayed in Elderwood and seen out whatever calamity had befallen it. At least Hammond would be in charge.
Not if he’s dead, my subconscious reminded me.
Then maybe we’d be dead with him, and not trapped in a walled city with a man-child who forced people to fight zombies for sport and possibly for punishment.
Punishment.
“We have to get Gloria and Vijay away from Keller. We have to get out of here,” I said, because apparently no one else was willing to say it.
Dax snorted.
Tony nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “We do.”
I stopped walking and gawked at him. “I am? We do?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how, exactly, you expect us to break through the guard he surely has them under, or better yet, what we’re going to do once we get them and realize we’re surrounded by Keller’s entire platoon, but dammit, Vibeke, we’re rescuing those people and escaping this shit show.”
He’s mocking me. He has to be.
“Just hold off on doing anything stupid until we think up a plan. And quit talking.” He stopped us in front of our house and glanced next door. “People are listening.”
I glanced up at the neighbor’s window. One face looked back at me. I couldn’t see much of it in the darkness, but I imagined disapproval; it wasn’t like Hastings had a hopping nightlife anymore, so there was really only one place we could be coming back from.
They assumed we had been at the arena, and they didn’t like it.
At least someone in the city didn’t.
Chapter Ten
Work was blessedly free of ghoul bites the next day, though I did have to tend a couple of scratches right off the bat. Lattimore waited for me to finish taping up a housewife who’d gotten into a rather violent argument with a maltipoo (I didn’t ask for more details) and then sent me out to The Domicile Formerly Known as the Mystery Tent.
The fresh piece of paper taped to the front flap now read Plague Tent.
“Oh, fuck,” I said. I stepped inside and was promptly greeted by a number of familiar faces—namely the blue-tagged folks I’d sent over the day before, Alyssa included.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered, staring at the dozens of cots that filled the room. Each hosted moaning, coughing people. Most of them hadn’t looked this bad yesterday.
A white lab coat bustled past me. I reached out and snatched at it, twirling a very surprised doctor around. “Renati,” I said in response to the bushy eyebrows that shot up. “Plague? When did this happen?”
His hands fluttered about briefly before coming to rest on his lapels. He tugged at the fabric, shifting the coat back and forth. “Not really a plague,” he said. “At least, I don’t think it’s a plague. But we don’t know what it is, and we needed a label. People love labels.”
“Do I need a mask?”
He shrugged. “I’m not using one. It’ll scare them more. Don’t know if this is airborne or not. But either way, you’ve already been exposed. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“What are the symptoms?” I asked before he could rush off.
“They’re sick,” he said. “General aches and pains. Frankly, it looks like a nasty flu.”
He hustled away before I could question him further. He paused next to one patient, took vitals, and then scurried out the back of the tent.
I stood there for a few precious seconds, weighing my options. Mask? No mask?
Well, it hasn’t killed me yet. I steeled myself and stepped further into the tent.
At least today there was another medic present; I figured the downgraded condition of the folks in here merited some sort of extra help. I caught up with her as she tended to one man in particularly sorry shape. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Vibeke. Lattimore assigned me here.”