love?”
I shook my head. Lust, certainly. Infatuation, yes. Love, no. “But I know the hopelessness you’re talking about.”
“Yet here you are?”
“Here we both are,” I countered. “Dr. Evans, how many are down there?”
“Call me Paul. Formalities are for the past, I think.”
“Okay, Paul.”
Paul came to a stop and turned to face me. “When Steph volunteered last night, it was like she was the catalyst for everyone’s courage. Maybe she’s a natural leader. Or maybe she was everyone’s hope, and when she gave up, everybody else did, too.”
“What do you mean, everybody else?”
“Look around, Zed. Do you see anybody up here?”
It occurred to me as I looked around, I’d seen almost no one since coming onto the floor.
“Nearly everybody volunteered for infection, Zed. There are only seventeen of us left who are keeping the place secure in case anyone comes out of the experiment with immunity.”
“How many are immune so far?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go downstairs to watch. You see, there are one hundred and fifty-three people down there, Zed. All infected. And if the first trials are any indicator, half of them are dead already, and we’ll shoot the other half by midnight.”
“You have lost hope,” I observed.
“Hopelessness,” Paul reiterated, “is an emotion with so many ugly faces. You know, I was in the Army before I came here. I was a doctor in Iraq in both wars. I’ve seen my share of things that would make most people weep. I’ve had boys younger than you bleed to death right there on my table. Boys in uniform, who looked me in the eye, sometimes holding my hand, in that moment when they gave their lives for something they believed in .”
Dr. Evans’ eyes looked down the hall at something that wasn’t there. “You do your best, but sometimes it doesn’t matter. Sometimes, they die anyway. When I thought of infecting us all to save a few, intellectually it was the right thing to do, the only logical thing.”
Dr. Evans seemed at a loss for words, so I said, “I think Steph felt the same way about it, Paul.”
“Everything about it feels wrong.”
I wrestled with a tactful way to express a harsh thought. “Maybe you’d feel better about it if you’d volunteered to go first.”
“I couldn’t.” Dr. Evans’ wide, sad eyes fell back on me.
“Why?” I asked, expecting to hear some bullshit about how the whole place would fall apart without him at the helm.
“Because I’m immune.”
“What?”
“I was exposed the Saturday before everything got bad.” Dr. Evans started to pull up the lab coat sleeve on his left arm.
“How?”
“I was bitten by a violent patient.” Dr. Evans showed me a bandaged wound on his forearm. “He was infected with the virus. His skin was pale. His temperature was elevated. His pupils were dilated. His behavior was deranged.”
I said, “I got it on that Sunday. Obviously, I wasn’t as lucky you.”
“Or perhaps, I wasn’t as lucky as you,” Dr. Evans suggested. “You can walk among them. You’ll survive if you’re careful. I’m a prey animal now.”
“Is anyone else here immune?”
“There’s Sergeant Dalhover downstairs. He got bitten early on. Tuesday or Wednesday, I think. He never turned. Like me, he never showed any symptoms. He and I are the only two here who are immune that we know of.”
“So naturally, you assumed there had to be more?” I asked.
Dr. Evans nodded. “Like I said, it was the logical conclusion.”
“Is Sergeant Dalhover the one in charge of shooting of the infected downstairs?” I asked, trying to mask the urgency I felt at the thought of finally arriving at Steph’s location, only to get there one bullet too late.
Dr. Evans confirmed with a nod. We arrived at the door to the stairwell that would take us down. He looked through the window to confirm that there was no movement on the landing. In a new habit of all the living, Dr. Evans
I shook my head. Lust, certainly. Infatuation, yes. Love, no. “But I know the hopelessness you’re talking about.”
“Yet here you are?”
“Here we both are,” I countered. “Dr. Evans, how many are down there?”
“Call me Paul. Formalities are for the past, I think.”
“Okay, Paul.”
Paul came to a stop and turned to face me. “When Steph volunteered last night, it was like she was the catalyst for everyone’s courage. Maybe she’s a natural leader. Or maybe she was everyone’s hope, and when she gave up, everybody else did, too.”
“What do you mean, everybody else?”
“Look around, Zed. Do you see anybody up here?”
It occurred to me as I looked around, I’d seen almost no one since coming onto the floor.
“Nearly everybody volunteered for infection, Zed. There are only seventeen of us left who are keeping the place secure in case anyone comes out of the experiment with immunity.”
“How many are immune so far?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go downstairs to watch. You see, there are one hundred and fifty-three people down there, Zed. All infected. And if the first trials are any indicator, half of them are dead already, and we’ll shoot the other half by midnight.”
“You have lost hope,” I observed.
“Hopelessness,” Paul reiterated, “is an emotion with so many ugly faces. You know, I was in the Army before I came here. I was a doctor in Iraq in both wars. I’ve seen my share of things that would make most people weep. I’ve had boys younger than you bleed to death right there on my table. Boys in uniform, who looked me in the eye, sometimes holding my hand, in that moment when they gave their lives for something they believed in .”
Dr. Evans’ eyes looked down the hall at something that wasn’t there. “You do your best, but sometimes it doesn’t matter. Sometimes, they die anyway. When I thought of infecting us all to save a few, intellectually it was the right thing to do, the only logical thing.”
Dr. Evans seemed at a loss for words, so I said, “I think Steph felt the same way about it, Paul.”
“Everything about it feels wrong.”
I wrestled with a tactful way to express a harsh thought. “Maybe you’d feel better about it if you’d volunteered to go first.”
“I couldn’t.” Dr. Evans’ wide, sad eyes fell back on me.
“Why?” I asked, expecting to hear some bullshit about how the whole place would fall apart without him at the helm.
“Because I’m immune.”
“What?”
“I was exposed the Saturday before everything got bad.” Dr. Evans started to pull up the lab coat sleeve on his left arm.
“How?”
“I was bitten by a violent patient.” Dr. Evans showed me a bandaged wound on his forearm. “He was infected with the virus. His skin was pale. His temperature was elevated. His pupils were dilated. His behavior was deranged.”
I said, “I got it on that Sunday. Obviously, I wasn’t as lucky you.”
“Or perhaps, I wasn’t as lucky as you,” Dr. Evans suggested. “You can walk among them. You’ll survive if you’re careful. I’m a prey animal now.”
“Is anyone else here immune?”
“There’s Sergeant Dalhover downstairs. He got bitten early on. Tuesday or Wednesday, I think. He never turned. Like me, he never showed any symptoms. He and I are the only two here who are immune that we know of.”
“So naturally, you assumed there had to be more?” I asked.
Dr. Evans nodded. “Like I said, it was the logical conclusion.”
“Is Sergeant Dalhover the one in charge of shooting of the infected downstairs?” I asked, trying to mask the urgency I felt at the thought of finally arriving at Steph’s location, only to get there one bullet too late.
Dr. Evans confirmed with a nod. We arrived at the door to the stairwell that would take us down. He looked through the window to confirm that there was no movement on the landing. In a new habit of all the living, Dr. Evans
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