Deathly Contagious (3 page)

“Sleeping, hopefully. He was up all night.”

“Oh. It’s ok for Hayden to wake up without him?” I asked, not caring if I offended her.

“Yes,” she said patiently. “I’ll be there and, honestly, there isn’t much else we can do anymore other than keep him comfortable until he heals.”

Karen led me down the row of beds. Hayden was at the end, and the curtain was pulled around his bed. The head of the bed was slightly elevated. Hayden’s left arm was taped in place to his bare chest and was resting on a pillow. Gauze covered the incision and an IV was hooked up to his right arm. His eyes were closed and his skin was pale; he looked nothing like the way I was used to seeing him.

“You’re alright with blood, aren’t you?” Karen asked me. I nodded. “Good. I’m going to clean the wound before he wakes up.”

I simply nodded again and pulled up a chair. My fingers graced Hayden’s hand, careful to avoid the IV line. His skin was cold. Karen whisked away and quickly returned with a warm blanket.

“It just came out of the dryer,” Karen said. She exchanged it for the one that was currently on Hayden, leaving only a white sheet to momentarily cover him up. “He needs to stay warm,” she explained. After he was tucked in, she took the gauze off the bullet wound. My stomach churned when I saw the damage done to Hayden.

I linked my fingers with his and closed my eyes. After she was done, Karen looked at her watch and told me that she would normally administer the pain meds right about now. She again said Hayden would be waking up soon. She smiled, told me she’d be nearby and left us to be alone.

Gently, I ran my fingers through Hayden’s hair. There was so much I wanted to say to him when he woke up, including telling him that he was stupid for letting himself get shot because I would have been alright. I smiled to myself, thinking of the dubious stare he’d give he when he heard that.

“Hayden,” I said softly. “Can you hear me?” I continued to run my fingers through his hair until Karen came back in to take his vital signs. She jotted them down on a clipboard and told me his blood pressure was slowly going up, which meant the medication was wearing off.

“You can talk to him,” she suggested. “I’ve had a lot of patients tell me that they remember voices when they were in comas. And it might help him wake up on his own, which I hope he does. I’m gonna feel bad if I have to wake him up myself.”

“Ok,” I said, not really know what to say. “Hayden,” I spoke quietly. “It’s Orissa. Thanks for saving me, though it was really stupid. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt just for me; I’m not worth it. And I would have been fine on my own, you know.” I put my hand over his. “Everyone’s really worried about you,” I went on to say. “You better heal fast, ‘cuz I don’t want to get stuck with someone stupid. You and me, remember? We’re the best zombie killers.”

His fingers tightened around mine. I held my breath, waiting.

“Hayden?”

“Mmhhh,” he responded.

“Hayden, hey. It’s Orissa.”

He moaned again and slowly blinked open his eyes. His fuzzy vision settled on me and he weakly smiled. Then he closed his eyes again. “Riss,” he mumbled.

“I’m right here,” I told him and squeezed his hand. He took several deep breaths before he opened his eyes and scanned the room. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital ward,” I explained. “You were shot, remember?”

“Yea,” he said after a minute. “You’re ok?”

“Yes. I’m fine, perfectly fine. You saved me.”

His eyes closed again. “Why is the dog in the mailbox?”

“What?”

He opened his eyes halfway. “Riss?”

“I’m still here. You’re confused from the medicine, it’s ok, Hayden.” My heart sped up while I waited for him to come back. “I thought you were dead,” I whispered, forcing tears away. He squeezed my hand again. Karen silently slipped past the curtain carrying a tray.

“When he’s fully awake, you can see if he wants to eat,” she told me, setting the soup down. I nodded. It took another ten minutes for Hayden to become aware of what was going on around him. He tried to sit up but winced in pain.

“Don’t move,” I instructed, carefully setting my hand on his chest. He nodded and relaxed. “How are you feeling?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Well, I guess that’s better than bad,” I laughed. “Are you hungry?”

“I don’t know,” he said again. I ran my fingers through his hair. “I’m tired.”

“You can go to sleep then.”

“Ok.”

Karen came in with another blanket. “Hi Hayden. I’m gonna do a quick switch.” She swapped the blankets. “And now I’m going to check your vitals. Do you feel any pain?”

“Of course,” he said with a hint of snark. “I was shot.” He smiled a cheeky grin and I couldn’t help but laugh. Karen took his blood pressure, temperature and checked his heart beat and respirations. After recording it all, she asked Hayden if he had feeling in his fingers and toes and if he could move his feet.

“Yes,” he said. He lifted up his left leg and let out a yell.

“Oh!” Karen said and put her hand on his leg to keep him from moving it anymore. “Don’t move that one, the catheter tube is tapped to it.”

“Yea, I felt that,” he said, his lips pressed together. Karen helped him into a new position, explaining she was worried about pressure sores; however told us Hayden was doing as well as expected and sat the head of the bed up before leaving us alone again. I got the bowl of soup and offered it to Hayden. He nodded and let me feed him. He only ate half of it before the pain made him feel so nauseous he couldn’t stomach anymore.

Karen came back in and said it was time for him to rest anyway. She injected something into the IV line, warning Hayden it might make him confused before he fell asleep. He feebly reached out for my hand. I linked our fingers.

“You are worth saving,” he whispered softly; I guess he had heard me after all.

“Maybe, but not at this cost.”

“I lost everyone, Riss,” he slurred. “Everyone I cared about. And then I met you. I’m…I’m not losing you.”

“You won’t,” I promised, unable to help the tears that fell down my cheek.

“Riss?”

“Yea?”

“Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

Chapter 2

Brock, Wade, and Rider came back that evening. They had found the guys who were following us. Along with Ivan, the five of us crowded in Fuller’s office.

“There were four,” Brock explained, “in a black Mustang, ’69 by the looks of it. Nicely restored but odd to be driving given the zombies. We found them ten miles from here.” He paused, looking at Wade and Rider.

“They opened fire right away,” he continued. “We had no choice but to take them down. One got away, but he got clipped in the leg first. He won’t make it long; I bet he’s dead already. Especially on his own, since he was used to running with others.  When we examined the bodies, all three the same tattoo of a skull wearing a crown. It was painted on the door of the Mustang as well.”

“Gang members,” I speculated.

“Yea,” Rider said. “One of them had ‘Imperial Lords’ tattooed on his back.”

“Now what?” I asked, mad I didn’t get to feel my fist crush the cheek bones of the bastards who shot Hayden.

“They’re dead,” Wade said, giving me a look like I just asked the world’s dumbest question.

“We’ve come across gangs and small groups before,” Brock explained. “They’ve never shot at us but they’ve never wanted to come to the compound. Can you think of anything that would have made them want to shoot you guys?”

“The back of the truck is full of weapons,” I stated. “We raided a hunting and camping store. I suppose I’d shoot someone for guns and ammo too. Plus Hayden’s truck…you know, with the mounted machine gun? It does come in handy.”

There was a murmur of agreeance. Fuller sat up and looked at Ivan. “Bring in the weapons and have them inventoried. Have someone check the fuel supply and report back to me.”

“So that’s it? We just carry on as if nothing happened?” I interjected.

“Yes,” Fuller ordered. “They are dead, Penwell. But we aren’t. We have to carry on if we want to keep it that way.”

I crossed my arms. I didn’t know what I expected Fuller to do, but leaving the bodies of Hayden’s shooters on the side of the road to get eaten by zombies was just so anticlimactic. I stared down Fuller and left the room.

Since I wasn’t allowed to ‘bother’ Hayden per Padraic, I spent the rest of the evening with Raeya. I stayed with her until she was ready to go to sleep; I didn’t want to be in my room alone. I knew Hayden was going to be ok, but seeing his empty bed was something I didn’t want to do.

I didn’t go to training the next day. I wandered the halls, stopping by the hospital ward enough to annoy Padraic. His brow was furrowed with worry as he rooted around through the dwindling medications.

“What’s up doc?” I asked, leaning against the counter.

“Orissa, hi,” he said in a monotone voice.  It was the third time I had stopped by to check on Hayden that morning.

“What are you looking for?” I had also become incredibly nosy; I wanted to know what was going on with Hayden at all times.

“Pain medicine.”

“Morphine?”

“No,” he said shortly, taking a bottle down and reading the label. “Hayden’s become tolerant. It’s not helping at all.”

“Is that normal?”

“Well, it’s not common. But it’s not unheard of. It’s called tachyphylaxis.”

I didn’t even attempt to remember that mouthful of a word. “What can you do?”

“I’ve tried another pain medication but it had adverse effects. I can help him sleep; it won’t subdue the pain but at least he won’t feel it as much if he’s asleep,” he sighed, setting down a glass bottle of liquid. Padraic ran his hands over his face. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes.

“You need to sleep,” I told him,

“I need to take care of my patient.”

“Can I help?”

“Yea, if you can get me some Fentanyl,” he said with a slight laugh.

“I can,” I said, straightening up. “I can get anything. Just tell me where I’d find it.”

Padraic looked at me unblinking. “You shouldn’t go out on another mission right now.”

“Why not?”

“You went on two in a row.”

“So?”

“So,” he exasperated, “maybe you should stay here a while. Luck hasn’t been on your side.”

“Yes it has. I wasn’t the one who got shot. And I don’t think luck has anything to do with anything anymore, Padraic.” I stared him down. He shook his head and sighed again. I strode past him and uncapped a pen. “Tell me what you need. I’ll give the list to Fuller. He’s the one who has the say on if I’d go or not.” I didn’t care what Fuller said. I was going no matter what.

Padraic hesitated. “Fine. Fentanyl,” he said slowly, sounding it out for me. “And benzodiazepine.” He had to spell that one out for me and went on to give a few more medical items. “There’s actually a lot we could use here,” he started. “Equipment, like IV pumps and vital sign monitors.”

“I’ll write them down too,” I told him and listened intently as Padraic described what we needed.

I folded the list and stuck it in my pocket. “Can I see him?”

Padraic slightly shook his head before giving in. “Five minutes. He needs to rest.”

I rolled up my sleeves and washed my hands before going into the sick wing. I walked around the curtain just in time to see a young B3 hold up a plastic bowl for Hayden to throw up in. Hayden groaned and closed his eyes, letting his head hit the pillow with too much force. He winced at the pain it caused his shoulder.

The B3 looked like he was going to puke himself as he stood, holding the bowl as far from him as possible. He made a startled noise of surprise upon seeing me, which caused Hayden to open his eyes.

“Riss,” he croaked.

“Hayden,” I responded. “You look horrible.”

“I feel horrible,” he agreed. I rounded the bed, picking up the plastic cup of water and putting the straw to his lips. After taking a drink Hayden explained. “Whatever they gave me made me sick.”

“I can see that,” I said with a smile, gingerly sitting on the right side of his bed. I brushed my fingers against his cheek. “I’m gonna go out and get you some new meds that won’t make you puke.”

“Thanks,” he said before his already ashen face turned grimmer. “You’re leaving?”

“I won’t be gone long. I’m the best, remember? I’ll get what you need and come right back.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said quietly.

“Two days, if even that much, is all I will be gone. Padraic said he has meds that will make you sleepy so you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“You are good, Riss, but you’re better when I’m with you. We’re a team, remember? Stay here until I can come.”

“That won’t happen for a while,” I said gently. “Hayden, I don’t like you being in pain. I just want to get the drugs and make you better.”

Hayden opened his eyes. “Orissa, there’s something…” he trailed off, about to get sick again. I grabbed a trashcan just in time. Padraic and the B3 rushed in, apparently hearing the vomiting. Padraic ushered me out. I didn’t even get to say bye to Hayden.

I ran into Dr. Cara on my way to the C level.

“Thanks for the samples,” she said, her voice monotone.

“Oh, yea,” I told her. I had forgotten about them until now. “You got them already?”

“Yes. Blood doesn’t stay fresh. I had to test them right away. I might need more.”

I nodded curtly. I took a step forward but Cara grabbed my arm. She flipped it over and ran a finger over the vein in my wrist.

“Can I have some blood?”

“Uh, sure.”

Her thin lips pressed into a smile and she motioned for me to follow her back into the hospital ward. My eyes scanned the door that separated me from Hayden.

“He’s going to be alright, you know,” Dr. Cara told me with no emotion in her voice. “Well, unless he gets an infection. Then he won’t be.”

I didn’t try to hide my ‘why the fuck would you say that?’ expression. Hayden was right: Dr. Cara was so socially awkward. She snapped on rubber gloves, hastily rubbed a cotton ball of alcohol over my arm and jammed the needle into my vein. I watched the deep scarlet blood rush into the vial.