Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (34 page)

He stroked Boss' fur absently. Worry lines
formed on his forehead.

"I don't like the idea of putting Boss in so
much danger. Patrolling the wall is one thing, but there's too many
unknown factors in play out there."

My respect for Tom increased every time he
made these kind of statements. Most people would be afraid for
themselves, but not him. His main priority was the safety of his
animal. We were kindred spirits.

"I think it's probably the dumbest idea he's
had yet. And that's saying a lot." I had zero respect for Mack and
the way he ran Asylum. The man had a blatant disregard for the
safety of the Guard.

Tom laughed at my observation. "No
disagreements there."

I swallowed the last bit of stew and thought
more about what he'd just said. It made no sense why Mack was
sending them to the hospital.

"Hold on a minute," I argued. "Why bother?
What could he possibly want that we don't already have?"

"I seriously don't know. Maybe he wants more
medicines or diagnostic equipment. He didn't tell me any
details."

I was getting hot under the collar. "Look
around. Do you see any sick people? Because I surely don't." This
was it. The moment I potentially went too far. If Tom was
sympathetic to Mack and his cause, I was about to hang myself.

"Have you noticed there are no old people in
Asylum? What is going on here, Tom? Over two-hundred people and not
one person over fifty? I find it hard to believe that's merely a
coincidence."

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner
of his eye, and I knew I'd stumbled onto something important.

"Well?" I prodded.

The door leading from the grand hall opened
and a group of kids spilled out, laughing. Lunch was over and it
was back to the grind of academia for them. My eyes narrowed at
Tom, who looked relieved for the distraction. I stood to leave and
pointed a finger at the cop.

"This conversation is not over," I grumbled,
and spun on my heels to go back to work.

He caught my arm before I stomped off. "You
don't want to go down that road, Emma," he whispered. "Some things
are better left to ignorance."

"Sorry, Tom, if nursing school taught me
anything, it's to question everything."

* * *

I could set my watch to Jasper's afternoon
visits, almost down to the second. Every day after lunch I brought
a new load of sheets to hang on the line across from the banyan
trees. The trees served as a constant reminder of my experience and
I hadn't gotten close to them since.

Daphne was lounging on the grass in front of
me. Without raising her head, her tail began to wag as Jasper came
up behind me.

"Hi, Emma!" he shouted in his usual
greeting.

I smiled, and stood, readying myself for the
inevitable bear hug. "Hi, Jasper!"

Once he'd sufficiently crushed my body
between his chubby arms, he plopped down on the grass beside
Daphne, and chattered away while he pet her. Jasper had an overall
lack of finesse when it came to physicality, but his shortcomings
seemed to dissolve into nothing when it came to the small dog and
he handled her with a fragility I hadn't seen him display with
anything else.

Jasper droned on excitedly about his morning;
how many zombies he'd cleared from the traps, the size of the
bonfire pile, and his observations of the other residents. If there
was one thing I knew for certain about the man, it was that he
needed a routine, and he was repetitive. Most days I could zone out
during these conversations and never miss a beat. Today was one of
those days. My mind was still stuck on the hospital run the Guard
would be making the following day.

I looked up when Jasper's voice cut off. His
eyes were focused on the grass and his shoulders slumped. Daphne's
body had gone rigid and her gaze was focused on something behind
me. A low growl vibrated from her, and the hair along her spine
stood on end like a spiky Mohawk.

"Ahem." The sound of a man clearing his
throat from behind me made my blood run cold. I didn't need to look
to know Mack was there.

I took a deep, calming breath and put on my
fake smile before turning to the vile man.

"Hey, Mack. Lovely day for a stroll?" It was
the only thing that I could think to say. Well, that's not really
true. It was the only thing I could think of that didn't end in a
string of profanities or creative name calling.

"Good morning, Emma," he laid on the southern
charm and gave me a practiced smile. We both knew his congeniality
was a sham; the only common ground between me and el presidente was
a mutual loathing and distrust. "Do you have a moment?"

I stifled my urge to decline, and instead
kept the smile plastered on my face. "Of course, what can I do for
you, sir?" Okay, so I was still a work in progress. I hadn't yet
mastered the art of hiding how I really felt, and a bit of sarcasm
escaped at the end of my sentence.

He continued, either not noticing the passive
aggressive slight or choosing to ignore it altogether.

"Your medical expertise is needed." His
expression lost all pretense, and he looked unsure of himself. He
seemed uncomfortable, like he had to poop, and I had to bite my
bottom lip not to point it out.

Unfortunately, his statement had me very
interested in what he had to say, and I looked back at him
expectantly.

"Walk with me," he said. Linking his hands
behind his back, he began strolling toward the front wall.

I mimicked his clasped hands and matched his
pace while he walked the perimeter of the yard. Minutes passed
while he sauntered beside me, chin raised annoyingly high, dragging
out the moment like he was building anticipation. Which, of course,
he was.

We'd walked the length of the wall, and he
turned to stroll the water's edge. My unease grew with each step
that brought us closer to the banyan trees, and he knew it. Mack
stopped at the break in the wall just before the tree where I'd
been attacked a few weeks earlier and peered down his nose at me,
refusing to lower his chin.

"I hear you're unhappy with the job
assignments," he said in a fatherly voice. The disappointment
dripped from every word as he spoke them.

"It is what it is," I replied.

"How would you like the opportunity to do
something more appropriate to your skill set?"

I was a smart enough woman to know never to
look a gift horse in the mouth, but he definitely had my full
attention. "I'm listening," I said, waiting for the catch.

"Tomorrow morning the Guard will be going out
on a recovery mission of the utmost importance. I won't lie. It's
goin' to be a difficult journey, and one that I wouldn't ask were
it not a matter of life and death." He paused again, and looked out
over the water.

I fidgeted and shifted my weight from foot to
foot, waiting for him to spit it out.

Like a drunk man standing up at an AA meeting
to declare he was an alcoholic, he spoke. "I am a diabetic. Type
one, insulin dependent." He fixed his steely gaze on me and
remained silent, like he had just lobbed a tennis ball into my
court and it was my turn to ping it back.

So there it was. The reason he was willing to
risk the lives of the Guard, Tom, and now me. I wanted to be angry
that he couldn't bring himself to come out and say he personally
needed my help, but I knew the man well enough to know he wasn't
wired that way. What I was annoyed about was the fact that he
thought this was a task more suited to my skill-set. Any trained
monkey could read a label and decipher between Novolog and Novolin.
I knew Mack felt the last of humanity were a bunch of idiots
unworthy to shine his shoes, but this was taking it a bit far.

"Why the hospital?" I asked. "Why not just
send a group to the closest pharmacy? They should be well
stocked."

"We've already tried that. The drugstore on
the corner suffered a fire, and the one on the strip is full of
those things." He waved a hand in the direction of University Drive
when he said those things, and the corners of his mouth pulled down
like he'd swallowed something sour.

I thought about his proposition. My mind was
already made up, but I questioned his motives. Clearly, his dream
team of scientists and medical geniuses were too valuable to risk
on something so dangerous. In fact, I couldn't recall having ever
seen them leave the compound. Mack didn't particularly like me and
my propensity for vocalizing my opinions, so I had no delusions of
him mourning my death should it come to pass. Yes, I hated laundry
duty, and yes, I wanted to use my degree. But the real clincher for
me was the opportunity to do something with Jake. Wasn't that a
kick in the pants? I was so desperate to spend time with my husband
that I'd risk life and limb for a few hair-raising hours of quality
time.

"So, how is this more appropriate for my
skill set?" I had to ask. Short of being able to pronounce the
words on a medicine label, I didn't see much need for a nurse.

Mack didn't miss a beat. He'd already
calculated an answer for my question before approaching me.

"It's not this mission itself, but what comes
after. Asylum needs a good nurse to keep its residents healthy and
happy. Dr. Chen has provided the Guard with a list of supplies to
gather so we can put together a clinic. I'd like you to oversee the
day-to-day, with Dr. Chen's supervision of course."

"What's the catch?" I asked suspiciously.

"My, you are a skeptical filly, aren't ya?"
He raised his hands and patted at the air. "I like that about you,
actually. But ya caught me. There is a teensy caveat to all
this."

I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to
elaborate. Mack had a love for dramatic effect in the form of
pregnant pauses. I crossed my arms and began to tap my foot on the
grass.

He laughed, and if I didn't know the man, I'd
have thought it was from genuine humor.

"Calm your britches, little lady. It's not
what you think."

He leaned in, and the smell of Old Spice
clogged my nose, giving me the urge to sneeze all over the front of
his shirt. The thought made me smile. And my smile broadened when
he returned the expression, likely thinking I was allying with him
and having no idea I'd been imagining what it would be like to
shower him in snot.

"The fine people of Asylum look to me to keep
them healthy and safe. They depend on me to have the answers, make
the hard choices. What would they think if they knew I could barely
keep myself healthy?"

"Um, they'd think your pancreas doesn't
produce insulin on its own." His worry was just stupid. A better
and far more appropriate question would have been: What would the
people of Asylum think if they saw him for the asshole I did?

"I fear not everyone is as accepting of one's
flaws as you. So the catch is that you keep this little
conversation to yourself. Our community needs stability, and I
don't want to shake our people's confidence in my ability to
effectively lead them and run this fine country."

"Sure, mum's the word. Your secret is safe
with me." I turned to go back to hanging sheets, but stopped,
unable to keep my thoughts to myself. "You know, Mack, I think you
underestimate our group. And I think your fear is unfounded and
shows an overall lack of respect to your fellow countrymen."

I didn't give him a chance to reply and
rejoined Jasper and Daphne by the clothesline.

"Sanctimonious prick," I mumbled.

Jasper giggled at my comment. "You're funny,
Emma. I dunno what that means, but you said it like a cuss word,
all meanlike."

"Can't sneak anything past you, can I,
Jas?"

He beamed with pride at the praise.
"Nope!"

Chapter 22: Morning Wood

"Jake, I need to talk to you."

I waited behind the big gate for him and the
rest of the Guard to get back from a run, like a wartime wife
waiting for her husband to return from battle. They pulled up in
their fleet of mismatched pickup trucks with beds full of food and
other miscellaneous supplies a few minutes before dinner and were
unloading the bounty to tote it into the mansion.

"Not now, Emma. I'm busy."

"Come on, Jake, just give me a few minutes.
It's important."

"After dinner, I promise," he said hurriedly
as he passed by me with a stack of boxes.

I watched his back as he walked away, angry
and sad at being blown off for the umpteenth time.

"Argh!" I muttered.

"Trouble in paradise?" The sound of Vance's
deep voice startled me, and I clutched my chest.

"Fuck, Vance. You scared the shit outta me.
How the hell can a seven-foot man be so good at stealth mode?"

"Didn't I tell you? I used to be a
ninja."

"Musta slipped my mind, what with all the
important work I've been doing." I rolled my eyes and delivered a
healthy dose of sarcasm with my retort.

Vance ignored the comment. Probably a good
move on his part. I was just itching for someone to give me the
opening I needed for a full-fledged bitch session. Very wise man,
that Vance. Very wise indeed.

I liked Vance. A lot, actually. Technically
he was a member of the Guard, but his role kept him segregated from
the other meatheads, and he didn't display the same cavalier
attitude. He kept to himself, and I never saw him at meals
guffawing with the group. Vance was the keeper of the gate. No one
or nothing made it past him without his approval.

The dinner bells chimed before I could ask
the question that had been percolating about the distinct lack of
old people at Asylum. Vance was literally saved by the bell.

I walked around the mansion, instead of
walking through it, to meet Meg for a Daphne transfer. Tom and Meg
were talking by one of the lunch tables with the dogs playing
nearby when I spotted them. I shoved down my dejected feelings from
being blown off by Jake and plastered on a smile before they
noticed me.