Tony must have seen the look on my face, because he actually cracked a smile. “You hadn’t thought about what we’d do if we did get ahold of him, did you?”
No, I hadn’t. I’d had some vague idea that we would figure out how to bust Gloria and Vijay out of confinement without winding up as zombie chow ourselves, but that had also involved some kind of military force backing me up. Hell, my entire fantasy rescue operation had centered around Hammond showing up in a flying aircraft carrier or something similarly terrifying, and either subduing Keller via force or a stern talking-to. We’d retrieve our friends, the city would rejoice, and no one would ever have to eat pastrami again.
Except things never quite played out the way I hoped they would, even before the end of the world.
Tony still expected an answer. I didn’t have one.
We got home a few minutes later. If any of our neighbors had been watching us, they didn’t let on; we looked like we’d just taken the dog on a long walk, and had maybe rolled around in ash and dirt on top of it. I did manage to get my shower and a change of clothes, and ran all the way to work, arriving just before Lattimore could shoot me a disapproving stare. “Sorry,” I apologized. “Had trouble sleeping last night. All the yelling at the park.”
“Better get used to it,” she said. “It keeps the peace.”
I failed to see how purposely battling zombies could keep the peace, but I was willing to let that slide. “What’s the agenda?”
“You missed a busy few hours.”
She didn’t exactly speak in an accusing tone, but she obviously wasn’t happy that I’d rolled in so late. “I asked for the morning off, and you granted it,” I said.
Lattimore nodded, her expression unchanging. “Those in the Plague Ward have taken a turn. We’re out of antibiotics for them, so just wear your mask and don’t let them touch you too much.” She tossed me a mask and a clipboard. I managed to catch both. “All you have to do is keep them sedated and comfortable. If someone does die, you call the orderlies and get him out.”
For a precious split second, I couldn’t say anything. Then I squeaked out, “They got worse?”
“Much.” She shook her head and began walking away, leaving me staring after her in horror. “Much, much worse. Just keep them comfortable, Vibeke. I think that’s all we can do.”
Chapter Seventeen
I walked into a crowd of coughing, gasping human beings, all of them pale or ash-colored, some with IVs plugged into them, others curled into fetal positions. For a few seconds I forgot to think, forgot to breathe through my little mask; there were just so many of them in such poor shape—how could this have happened in in just a day?
Shit goes wrong real fast in a day, Vibby.
I quickly realized this was not going to be a particularly exciting duty. Most of them were too ill to do much besides look at me beseechingly. I made a quick circuit of the tent: Alyssa was sleeping, as were about half of the other occupants. The rest were in various forms of wakefulness, ranging from stupefied stares to soft, whimpering moans.
Just push the sedatives. Push the sedatives and keep them comfortable and keep going.
I walked up and down the rows, taking vitals, swapping out IV bags when necessary, resting my hands on foreheads every now and then. No one was dead just yet—though most of them were just stoned enough to pass as dead if I hadn’t been looking on carefully. This must have been part of Lattimore’s great plan to keep things quiet until they passed away and could be disposed of (or snatched up by Renati). Even in these bleak times, I was pretty sure no one wanted the sick to be actively uncomfortable.
I made two circuits of the tent. I made a point of checking the pulse on each person in there, whether they were awake or passed out.
No one had croaked.
No one yet, I reminded myself. Gotta be vigilant. You smashed an awful lot of ghouls this morning, Vibeke. If they have a god, I bet it’s angry at you.
Undead gods? I needed a vacation.
I stopped by Alyssa’s bed once I was sure no one was about to reanimate and try to eat me alive. She was stirring already; I needed to talk to her, and the only way to make sure that happened was to avoid topping off her sedative. I crouched down next to her bed and touched her hand.
She opened her eyes and took a few seconds to focus on me. Then a weary smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Hey,” she said. “Did Logan find you?”
“He did. He even got the radio working for us.”
“I’m so glad.” Her hand closed around mine, and squeezed lightly. “How did it go?”
How much was I supposed to tell her? Nothing? Everything? Tony’s concerns over where her loyalties might lie flew right out the window; Alyssa was desperately ill, and had done her best to ensure Hastings got the help it needed—or, more specifically, that me and my friends at least got to yell for help.