S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND: Season Two Omnibus (Episodes 9-11) (91 page)

“We'll work your identities later. Right now, I urge you to finish up here so we can leave.”

“New identities?” Ramon's face was red. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and extracted his ID cards and credit cards and slapped them onto the table. “You're saying we have to give up everything we've worked for?”

“You've already lost it.”

Ramon reached for Lyssa's purse. He began doing the same with her wallet, pulling out her driver's license and security card. She watched as he tidied the pile, then inserted the documents into a baggie and sealed it. He pushed himself away from the table and stood up. “Someday, this will all be behind us. We'll clear our names. Someday, we'll come back, and when that happens, this—”

He snatched a picture off the wall and removed the image from the frame.

“This will all be waiting for us.”

She heard him climbing their stairs, certain of one thing: They'd never come back.

“We'll need someone to hack into the memory on my printer,” she told Marion. “That's how we'll get you your results.”

He nodded. “I have just the person in mind.”

* * *

“Why, Lyssa?” Ramon asked. “Why are you always defying me?

“I'm not defying you. I'm doing what needs to be done to get us to safety.”

“By trusting the word of a stranger?”

He stopped his pacing long enough to check outside of their bedroom window. She could tell by the relative lack of tension that he didn't see anything out there, at least not in the limited field of view. She sighed and flopped back onto the bed.

There was a loud crash and she jolted upright again, her heart racing. Everything that had once been on the dresser was now scattered about the room. Ramon had swiped it all off in anger.

“We've lost everything!”

Lyssa swayed groggily on the bed. She'd been on the brink of sleep and was now having a hard time stepping away from it.

She felt something touch her foot and, without thinking, she bent to pick it up. It was Cassie's snow globe, the one she'd inherited from her grandparents before they'd passed away. It was a New York City skyline that neither Cassie nor her parents had ever seen.

Ramon walked over and sat down next to her on the bed. “Lyssa, do you really expect that man to protect Cassie? He only wants one thing, and that's to get those records.”

“So we give them to him. And then we leave. We just need to wait until his friend arrives.”

“And who is this friend?”

“Someone who knows how to extract files from within a printer's memory.”

Ramon shook his head angrily. “Every minute we spend here is another minute we risk getting infected or caught.”

“You're the one who brought us back here, Rame. I wanted to go up to Oyster Bay Harbor and take the ferry.”

“You can't have it both ways, Lyssa. If you believe that man downstairs, then you have to accept that the ferries are grounded.”

“Now, maybe, but—”

“Doctors, you up there?”

They both turned toward the sound of Marion's voice.

Ramon frowned. “We're here,” he snapped, clearly unhappy about the interruption. “Has your friend arrived yet?”

“Not yet. Is your daughter up there?”

They'd left Cassie sleeping downstairs on the couch.

“Is she up there with you two?” he repeated, his voice urgent.

Lyssa shot to her feet.
Something's wrong.

Marion appeared in the doorway. His eyes flicked from her to Ramon standing behind her. “She's not down there. I checked the back yard, too.” He looked worried.

Lyssa squeezed past him out of the room. She flew down the steps and out onto the deck. “Cassie?
Cassie!
”

From somewhere in the distance, she could hear a single low moan, and she knew it wasn't the wind.

Behind her, from the hallway, she heard Ramon curse. “The fucking garage door's open!”

 

It seemed incredible that only an hour ago Lyssa had almost fallen asleep.

Now it seemed she'd never sleep again.

“Where is she?” she shouted as she ran back into the house, Marion trailing at her heels. He'd come to report that Ramon had found Cassie. In the hour she was out there searching, Lyssa'd seen only a handful of infected on the streets. She'd easily avoided them. But a girl as young as Cassie, who was small and trusting and largely unaware of the lethal risk, she wouldn't.

“Ramon!” she screamed. “Where are you? Where's Cassie? Is she okay?”

“We're in here!” he replied from the back bathroom. He sounded like he was sobbing.

She stopped in the doorway and looked in. She saw the blood he was washing off in the sink.

“Is it . . . ?” She couldn't finish. Her face was numb. Her whole body was numb. She was surprised to hear that her words made any sense.

He moved slightly aside so she could see better, then gestured for her to move away so he could carry the girl into the living room. “Get the first aid kit. We need to disinfect the bite.”

“I don't know where it is!”

“Jesus!” Ramon screamed. “God damn it to hell! I told you this would happen!” He set Cassie onto the couch, then pushed past her and Marion and ran out the front door.

“Ramon! Be careful—”

“He knows,” Marion quietly said, stopping her from following. “Stay here with your daughter.”

There was horror and sadness in his eyes. He shook his head, then turned away and fumbled with his phone. “Damn it,” he muttered. “This is all my fault.”

Lyssa didn't correct him. She turned back to Cassie.

“Mama? I don't feel very well.”

“Why, honey? Why did you go out there?”

“I had to. I didn't want us to leave Remy and Ben Nicholas behind.” She shivered. “Mama, I feel so cold.”

“Pick up!” Marion shouted into his phone. “
Pick up, damn it!
”

Ramon rushed in with a bottle of disinfectant and poured it over the bite, heedless of the thick, dark brown liquid seeping into the couch cushion. To Lyssa, it looked like blood. Cassie let out a howl of pain and started to thrash.

“Stop it, Ramon! You're hurting her!”

But Ramon brushed her hands away and shouted back, “Hold her down! Cassie, listen to Daddy. Stop, honey, please, you need to— Cassie!”

The girl's eyes rolled back into her head. Her body went rigid and she arched her back off the couch. Several of her joints cracked. Lyssa shrieked. She didn't know whether to go to her daughter or back away. Then, just as suddenly as it started, Cassie's seizure stopped. She collapsed back onto the cushions.

“Is she—?”

But something new was happening. The girl's body began to shake, small tremors at first, then growing into violent, uncontrolled spasms. Her limbs flailed freely, striking Ramon's knees several times before he reached down to hold her.

“Oh god,” Lyssa cried. “Oh god
oh god oh god!
Stop it, Ramon!”

“We don't have much time,” Marion said, stepping between them and laying a hand on Cassie's forehead. “Once she starts getting a fever, it's too late.”

“Did Drew answer?” Lyssa cried. “Is he coming?”

He shook his head.

“Do something!” Ramon shouted at him. “Please!”

“Get some ice,” Marion instructed, then he began to strip off Cassie's shirt. “We have to keep her cool!”

“Fever helps kill the infection!” Ramon protested. He tried to stop Marion.

“Not this one!” He shoved Ramon away before tearing Cassie's shirt from the girl's still-quivering body. Ramon tripped from the strength of the blow and fell cursing to the floor. “Listen to me!” Marion said, his voice tight. “You want to help? Go get some ice!
Now!
”

“What's going to happen to her?” Lyssa said. She could feel the madness inside of her, the panic and the horror and the realization of the truth of what was happening. Somehow, she'd been able to cage it, she didn't know how, but now it was awake and trying to get loose. It wouldn't be long before it escaped and took her with it.

Cassie's body arched again, then flopped back. She let out another whimper and then closed her eyes and went totally limp.

“Is she—?”

“She's breathing. I think it's just the shock. Listen to me carefully,” Marion told her, looking into Lyssa's face. “Your daughter is going to die unless Drew can get here in time.”

“Why? What can he do?”

Marion pursed his lips. “I  I can't explain it. I'm not even sure, but it's the only chance we've got.”

He glanced past her and over at Ramon rushing back into the room, thrusting a bag of ice into Marion's hand. He took it and flattened it against Cassie's skin, rubbing it over her entire chest and neck. “More. We need lots more.”

“There isn't any—”

“Then get whatever's in the freezer. Bags of vegetables, anything! Hurry! We need to buy her time!”

Ramon spun away again, his feet pounding the hallway floor.

“We should get her into the tub.” Marion wiped away the excess antiseptic and inspected the bite on her arm. “It's small, and shallow, but it definitely broke the skin.” He shook his head. “I'm so sorry.”

“How much time do we have?”

“This shallow, it could be as much as forty-eight hours before—” He paused. “Before death. We might be able to prolong it with extreme hypothermic shock. We could buy her some time. But unless Drew arrives soon and can help, there will only be one outcome.”

“You said he didn't answer your call.”

“He's been in hiding. I haven't spoken with him in more than a day, so I don't know if he's been caught or what. I've also contacted a friend who's going to try and get the word out, in case Drew doesn't have his phone.”

“Here,” Ramon said, breathless. He dumped several bags of frozen vegetables onto the couch and began to tuck them against Cassie's arms and legs.

“We're going to move her,” Marion told him. “Go pour a bath of cold water. No hot water at all.”

“That'll send her into shock.”

“She's already in shock. We need to slow the spread of the infection, delay its passage into the brain.” He pushed himself off the couch and turned. “Both of you, listen to me carefully. Your daughter has been bitten by one of the infected. It's a shallow bite, but it broke the skin. We have to assume she received the virus. We're lucky the wound wasn't more—” He stopped himself and turned back to look at the bite mark, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked almost puzzled.

“What is it?”

“Lucky it wasn't deeper or more extensive,” he murmured. He turned to Ramon. “Go draw that bath.”

“Do you even know what you're doing?”

“I know infectious diseases. I know Dengue.”

“This isn't Dengue! You said so yourself.”

“No, it's not, but it's the best comparison we have.”

“So we have nothing!”

“Listen to me, Doctor Stemple. We can stand here and discuss it all you want, but that's not going to do your daughter any good. First, we need to get her into that bath, then we can talk about what to do next.”

He reached down and began to lift Cassie from the cushions.

Lyssa put her hand on Ramon's arm and pulled him out of the way. “He knows more than we do. Please, we have to try.”

“If we had just left when I said—”

“Argue later!” Marion shouted at them.

They stood to one side and let him pass between them with their daughter. They watched him take her away from them, her arms and legs and head dangling as if she were already dead.

Then Lyssa broke away from Ramon and rushed after them.

“Lyssa!” Ramon cried, but she didn't hear him. She passed Marion and hurried into the bathroom and fumbled with the drain plug until it seated itself into the hole. She turned on the water and watched it swirl into the tub, pure and clear and cold. Marion gently lowered Cassie into the bath.

Cassie settled in with a sigh, then slumped to one side. Lyssa's heart stopped when she didn't see any breathing. But the girl's chest lifted and fell, so shallowly that it was barely detectable at all.

The water covered her legs, soaking into her pants, filthy as they were. It rose past her elbows and lapped at her belly button, ejecting a tiny air bubble. It crept up and up until it was to her chest, then her chin, and then Marion shut the water off. Then Lyssa saw the tiny breaths her daughter was taking, and she collapsed onto the floor beside the tub and counted each one.

“Will she wake?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

Marion shrugged, then nodded. “I think so. I think her mind has just shut itself down. After everything she's seen and been through these past few days, I'm not at all surprised. She's in shock. She'll wake, and when she does, we have to be prepared for whatever happens next. She'll want out of the tub. You'll have to keep her calm. You can't let her get upset, because that will only hasten the disease.”

He stepped toward the door.

“And where are you going?” Ramon demanded.

Marion's gaze flicked to Lyssa, then back to Ramon. “Stay with them. Keep Cassie cool. Keep her calm. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

 

Lyssa couldn't stop looking at the bite, at the puckered edges and the torn skin.
Why, Cassie?
she wanted to ask her.
Why did you go out there?

The girl stirred, shivering once, and a rash of goose bumps spread across her arms. She lifted her head and opened her eyes.

“Cassie? Honey?” Lyssa said, settling onto the floor on her knees and cradling the girl's chin. “Honey? Can you hear me?”

“Mama?”