The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get (22 page)

“What?” I said. “You can’t just—”

“Dave, please,” Pederman said.

“In that case,” Warnick said, “who’s in charge?”

Walt stood and tried to yank his belt up over his generous gut. “Until further notice, Black Dragon will report directly to Captain O’Brien.”

Springer pushed away from the table in disgust. “What?”

“You can’t be serious,” I said. “The police?”

Pederman got to his feet. “Dave …”

“No, this is bogus. What about the separation of church and state?”

“This isn’t a joke, son,” Walt said. His ears reddened—he was getting steamed.

“I didn’t mean it to be.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll be in touch if I have any more questions. I will need each of you to read that report, to ensure everyone agrees that nothing was left out, so on and so forth. If there’s a discrepancy, feel free to come and see me.”

After Walt and Becky were gone, we sat again. No one spoke for a long time.

“Sorry,” I said.

Pederman flipped his copy of the report open and closed several times. “Forget it, Dave. Look, he’s doing his job.”

“But how is this going to work? Those LA cops are idiots. And besides, they’re totally in bed with the mayor.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Warnick said. “We need to make the best of it.”

Fabian returned from the cafeteria carrying a plastic tray of coffee cups. “Sorry, I had to wait for them to make a fresh pot. Wha’d I miss?”

“They cut off our nuts,” Springer said.

Holly glared at him. “Speak for yourself, Springer.”

“They cut off my nuts.”

As Fabian handed out the coffees, I flipped through the report. Pederman had been thorough and, from what I could tell, completely factual and impartial. He hadn’t tried to whitewash our actions, and he hadn’t overstated what the civilians—and the dragger horde—had done to us. He had, however, left out something important.

“There’s no mention of the soldiers we found,” I said.

Pederman reached over and took my copy of the report. Then he went around the table and collected the rest. “I included them in the list of Black Dragon casualties.”

“But—”

“Dave, we’re through discussing this.”

“Can I bring up something else, then?” I said. “It’s about Steve Zimmer.”

“Who?”

“The person we rescued in the forest.”

“Right.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“Once he’s released from the hospital, he’ll be escorted to one of the checkpoints along with the other civilians. We’ve arranged for transportation to San Francisco.”

“But his wife and baby are here in the command center,” Holly said. “Can’t he stay?”

“I don’t think so. And don’t forget, I’m no longer in charge.”

“Well, can they leave and go with him?” I said.

“No.”

“They’ve already been tested—they don’t carry the virus.”

“Dave, I appreciate what you’re trying to do for that family, but our orders are to keep everyone who was quarantined in and everyone else out.”

I looked at Holly. “Well, we tried.”

As the four of us walked down the steps of the administration building, I held Holly’s hand.

“I can’t believe you caved like that,” she said. “Not like you.”

“I didn’t. I’m going to see Isaac.”

“What for?”

“To get Steve Zimmer a doctor’s note.”

“Mind if we come with?” Warnick said.

“You guys don’t need to get involved in another one of my stupid ideas.”

“There are worse things.”

“Like what?” Holly said.

“Like being crushed to death by Walt Freeman’s giant gut,” Springer said.

Holly laughed. “It
would
make an awesome steamroller.”

I would have laughed too, but I was working out what to say to Isaac that would make him lie about a patient.

Isaac shook his head at the four of us sitting in his office. “You want me to falsify a medical record?”

“No, but can you bend the truth a little?” I said.

“Nina’s baby needs her father,” Holly said.

“Isaac, the only way for him to avoid being removed is for you to say—”

“I know, Dave. You want me to say he’s sick.”

“Can’t you give him a disease?” Holly said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something that will make it so that he can stay at the command center with Nina and the baby—but that’s not contagious.”

Isaac sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. I knew he’d been working long hours, both at the hospital and the isolation facility, and didn’t need another problem to solve. He reread the notes in Steve Zimmer’s chart.

“We gave him a transfusion right after he was admitted. Looks like he ate breakfast. And he’s responding well to antibiotics. Had a nightmare. One of the nurses reported screaming. Hmm …”

“What?” I said.

“Elevated white blood count. Probably due to an infection. Huh …” He flipped through the rest of the chart and returned to the first page. Finally, he met our eyes and smiled.

“Well?” Holly said.

“Elevated white blood count can mean all kinds of things. An autoimmune disorder or even leukemia. Keeping him under observation is at the doctor’s discretion.”

“And it sounds like you wouldn’t be lying,” Warnick said. “I’m good with that.”

“So am I,” Isaac said. “He’s due to be released this afternoon. I’ll see to it he’s moved to the command center. And I will continue to monitor his progress.” He winked at Holly.

Springer high-fived Isaac. “Awesome!”

“Warnick,” Isaac said, “I need to ask you something. We still need to connect my researchers with the people at Robbin-Sear. I realize your reporting structure has changed, but we can’t wait.”

“Understood. I’ll figure something out.”

“Any change to the patients in the isolation facility?” I said.

“We’ve lost most of them. And it’s getting more dangerous to keep the few remaining ones there.”

“Any more like Ariel?”

“No.”

We told Isaac about the soldiers in the forest. An experienced medical examiner who had seen every kind of death there is, he nevertheless blanched when we described what they had done to Steve Zimmer’s friend.

“I want to confront the people responsible,” he said.

“You’ve got my vote,” I said.

Holly, Griffin and I waited with Nina Zimmer near the command center entrance for the ambulance to arrive. Greta sat at attention, her ears forward. The vehicle stopped briefly at the guard station and pulled into the compound. Nina tensed. She held Evan close and faced her forward so she could see her father for the first time in months.

An EMT jumped out of the driver’s side and opened the rear doors. Steve Zimmer, looking weak and dazed, lay on the gurney, dressed in a pale blue hospital gown. Another EMT inside helped him sit up. They assisted him as he slowly climbed down from the ambulance, wincing from the pain.

I wanted to interrogate Steve—to learn what was happening outside our town. Had they forgotten about us? But he was in no shape for that. I didn’t know what would happen to the family, but at that moment I was happy for them—happy that in all this death, they had found each other again.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said as he held his wife and kissed his daughter.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” Nina said. Though she was crying, there was anger in her voice.

“I won’t—promise.”

We walked over to Nina’s trailer and helped Steve get settled. He was in a lot of pain from the gunshot wound, but he appeared happy. He sat on the small sofa and Nina placed Evan in his arms.

“Hey, Peanut,” he said, tears running down his cheeks. “I missed you so much.” Then to Holly and me, “Thank you.”

“We’ll come back later with some clothes,” I said. “Oh, almost forgot.” I handed Nina a plastic bag of medications. “Just follow the instructions. There are pills to help him sleep. You can take him to any of the MMUs to get his bandages changed and pick up more fluids.”

Griffin and Greta were waiting outside. Nina followed us out.

“Thank you. I never thought I’d see him again,” she said, her eyes red with tears.

“He’s a good guy, Nina,” I said. “You and Evan are everything to him.”

“I won’t forget you guys for as long as I live.” She held Holly all of a sudden like a long-lost sister.

There weren’t many good days like this. You learned to cherish them.

Holly, Griffin and I ate in the trailer. The TV droned in the background, tuned to a hockey game between the Sharks and the Kings. I wasn’t sure if it was live or prerecorded. Though I still loved the game, I was distracted. In the final few seconds of the third period, the Sharks scored, winning the game by a single point. The fans went through the roof.

“Slapshot and he
scores
!” the Sharks-friendly announcer said. “And there’s your lunch!”

Holly laid down her fork and took my hand.

“It’s hard, you know?”

Though she hadn’t specifically referred to any one thing, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Images of the battle we’d engaged in—the worst ever—flashed through my mind, along with the menacing groans of the draggers and the cries of the men we’d shot down. We weren’t soldiers—not really. Though we’d fought to survive these last few months, something was different. It was in Holly’s expression.

“I want to go to church,” she said, “and I want you to come with me.”

“You mean now?”

“No, morning Mass. Will you come?”

“Sure. It’s been a long time, but …”

“I need this, Dave. We both do.”

“You’re not going to make me go to Confession, are you?”

Holly smiled. “Next time.”

Griffin watched us the whole time, saying nothing. I saw a look of longing on her face—something I hadn’t seen before. “Can I come?” she said.

Holly stroked her arm with her other hand. “Oh, honey, of course you can. Are you Catholic?”

“No. I’m not anything. I’ve never even been inside a church.”

“You’ll like it, I promise. It’s comforting.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I said.

But that was a lie. What I was really thinking about was dread. The kind that overtakes you when you remember your past sins.

And I had plenty.

On Sunday
we attended the only Mass of the day. The mayor had arranged for school buses to transport Catholics staying at the command center to St. Monica’s a few blocks away. Black Dragon soldiers escorted the faithful and waited outside next to their vehicles. I drove Holly and Griffin over separately in a Humvee.