E j deen, p.6
E. J. Deen, page 6
“He seems friendly enough,” Doc pronounced.
“He likes me,” Serena informed him, one hand still resting protectively on the dog, who was patiently enduring his unexpected exam.
“He’s healthy. What color is he under all this mud, does anyone know?”
Serena shook her head.
“Would you like to know?”
She nodded.
“Coon-ass here can take him and wash him for you, if you like,” Doc told her.
“Can I go with him? Zach says Hangdog is my responsibility, and if I don’t look after him and keep him out of trouble, he’ll put an arrow through him.”
Zach grunted in response. It took all his effort to keep from laughing out loud. She was a smart little cuss, obviously very observant. Until they had entered the complex, she’d never known what his name was, but just hearing the other men speak it, she was already comfortable using it herself. Even more interesting, and not a little surprising, was the fact that she had listened to every word he’d ever said to her—although it hadn’t seemed so at the time—and she meant to obey him.
“Candid little thing, isn’t she?” he muttered.
Doc grinned and then addressed Serena again. “Coon-ass will take good care of him. He’ll bring him back when he’s nice and clean. I promise. In the meantime, we should take a look at those bruises. Do you mind?”
She shook her head and rather reluctantly relinquished Hangdog’s makeshift leash into Coon-ass’s massive hands. On the verge of stepping into the building with Doc, she surprised everyone when she hesitated and turned soulful eyes on Zach.
“Will you come, too?”
Zach reached out and touched her shoulder lightly in an effort to reassure her. “If you want me to. But Doc will have to look at every part of your body. Do you really want me there? It might be a little embarrassing for you.”
“Aren’t there any girls here?”
Zach shook his head.
“Then I want you to stay with me.”
Zach glanced at Doc. “Is that all right with you?”
“I’m okay with it.” Doc turned to Serena. “But whenever you think you want him to leave, you make sure and say so, okay.”
She nodded her agreement. “Will it hurt?” she added as an afterthought.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, Serena,” Doc told her, all seriousness now. “You have a lot of bruises, and it may hurt when I touch them. I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m just gonna make sure you’re all right.
I may have to touch you in places that will scare you, but Zach will be here, and he can put an arrow through me if I do anything wrong. Agreed?”
She nodded and gave him that odd little smile again.
“Come on, hon. Let’s get you fixed up, shall we? I bet you’re hungry as they come.” He spoke
soothingly to her as they stepped into the little shack, obviously trying to make her as comfortable as possible.
“Zach feeds me very well, but I am a little hungry,” she admitted.
Doc laughed. “Well, just as soon as we take a look at you, I’ll take you around and show you what real cajun food tastes like. Would you like that?”
“Very much,” she agreed. “And then you’ll tell me why they call that man Coon-ass?”
This time Zach did laugh. Serena turned and stared at him, seemingly incredulous that he could laugh at all. Giggling happily, she threaded her fingers through his and gave them a squeeze. Zach tried to control his initial reflex to pull away from the familiar touch, and managed to keep his hand linked with hers. Still, despite all his efforts, her gesture had caused his laughter to stop abruptly.
Zach looked at Doc, as if for guidance, and then lamely said, “She’s gonna be all right, isn’t she?”
“She’s smart, she’s tough, and she’s got spirit. She’ll be just fine,” Doc answered.
Despite the private nature of Doc’s examination, Serena pulled through like the bravest of soldiers. She didn’t even wince when Doc poked the needle into her arm and drew blood for testing. Zach felt immensely proud of her, a rather odd paternal feeling settling somewhere in the region of his chest.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Not unpleasant at all.
The examination complete, Serena went outside to find Coon-ass and Hangdog. Zach waited
impatiently for the results of the test, the minutes ticking by too slowly for his taste. In an attempt to keep his mind off the possibilities, he occupied himself by looking over Doc’s ledgers of test data until he noticed that Doc’s hands were idle and his eyes downcast. He suddenly looked more haggard than Zach had ever seen him look before. Without having to ask, Zach knew the results of Serena’s test were not good.
“No.” It was a hoarse, ragged whisper that barely squeezed past the tightness in Zach’s throat.
Doc kept his gaze on the equipment in front of him.
“No!” The denial exploded from him, and he emphasized the word by slamming a fist into the
examining table, accidentally putting a small dent in the middle of it.
Doc stared at the indention, obviously feeling as impotent and numb as Zach did.
“Why? Why her of all people? She’s only twelve, for God’s sake. Only twelve. She has so much spirit, so much heart. It isn’t right. It just isn’t…fair.” He nearly choked on the last word. It seemed ludicrous to even say it. The world had ceased to be fair eons ago, if it ever had been at all.
Doc remained silent. There was nothing to say. They both knew that.
Zach glared at the equipment as if he wanted to destroy it. “Can it be wrong?” he finally asked.
Doc shook his head. “I’ve checked it twice. There’s no mistake. She’s infected.”
Deflated, Zach sat down hard on the examining table. He wanted to punch something, to rage at
something, anything. It didn’t matter what as long as he could relieve this terrible aching frustration he felt. It was eating at him, gnawing on his innards.
“She’s so young,” he whispered.
Doc could only stare at him. He felt the same frustration, although he didn’t express it in quite the same way as his friend did. He could see the anger on Zach’s face, making his scar stand out in dark purple relief against his skin, skin that had gone oddly pale. Doc was devoid of anger. He was too swallowed in pure helplessness. He was a scientist. He was supposed to be able to cure people, yet he could do nothing for the girl. Nothing at all. The knowledge made him feel terrible inside.
“I should hunt them down and kill every one of them,” Zach mumbled, his eyes vacant.
Doc sighed. “How would you find them? And what purpose would it serve?”
“So they can’t do it to anyone else,” Zach vehemently replied.
Doc didn’t answer. He understood Zach better than anyone. Zach had become a one-man army of late.
He was the only justice left in this world. But he was only one man against many. He didn’t understand that he couldn’t change the world without help.
“What about the G-code?” Zach asked.
Doc shook his head. “It’s only in the developmental stages. It’s too unstable to test right now.”
Zach rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Her parents…they won’t be able to take care of her. They might even kill her, and if they don’t, someone else will.”
“Leave her with me.”
Zach glanced up sharply. Was Doc serious? Would he risk that much for this little girl, this odd woman-child? “Will she be safe with the men?”
“The men aren’t afraid of the virus, and she might actually be good for them. Besides, she can help me with my research. I can study her. She’ll be safe here. I can take care of her, ease her pain when it comes. She’ll have a longer life here with me and the men.”
Zach considered it for a moment and then slowly nodded. “I’ll have to tell her parents that she was dead when I found her, killed by the men who kidnapped her.”
“It’ll be best that way,” Doc agreed.
“Damn, I’m glad I let her keep that dog,” he moaned, raking a trembling hand through his tangled hair and then rubbing his bristly chin in agitation, absently thinking how much he would like a shave. Damn beard itched. “How are we going to tell her?”
Doc released a weary sigh. “I’m not prepared to tell her just yet.”
Zach disagreed. “She has to know. She’ll wonder why I’m leaving her behind.”
“She needs some time to settle, to get over the trauma she’s been through. Stress can only further the harm the virus can cause, speed it up.”
“She has to be told,” Zach reiterated. “It’s her right.”
Doc considered it for a moment and then nodded, resigned to the fact.
“I’ll do it,” Zach said simply.
He sounded so sure of himself, almost detached, but just thinking about telling Serena gave him a sharp tug of remorse. It was a terrible way to die, and he dreaded having to tell her. It wouldn’t be easy for her to accept. Not by a long shot. Cripes, he felt like the grim reaper, come to steal her youth from her.
Hopefully, she had enough spirit and strength in her to pull through and trudge on regardless of her circumstances.
“How are you feeling?” Doc asked.
“Tired,” Zach answered.
Doc’s brows lifted. “You know what I mean.”
Zach nodded. “I feel fine.”
“No problems?”
Zach shook his head.
“I’ll need to test you.”
Without a word, Zach stood up and began rolling up his shirtsleeves. Doc reached for a sterilized syringe, another precious commodity, and prepared to test him for the virus. It had become a ritual for Zach to be screened whenever he was in the area. Today, like all the times before, he tested negative.
He hadn’t expected to be anything else.
Doc took another sample of blood. “I have a new control running. The last experiment was a bust, but I think I may have ironed some things out. The blood showed promise.”
“Enough to use on Serena?”
Doc shook his head. “We’re a long way from that yet. Besides, I still want to observe you for awhile.”
“I feel fine.”
“We’ll see,” Doc said, swabbing alcohol onto the needle wound.
Zach was Doc’s living experiment. Three years ago, he’d gone through a radical gene therapy that Doc had been working on, designed to alter his immune system to recognize the GV-3 virus and eradicate it before it could become too prolific. Doc had been engineering the vaccine for a long time, but his first experiments had been unsuccessful. Before the war, the gene splicing had caused some damage in his first control group, and it had nearly wrecked Doc’s career. He’d gone back into the lab to make some changes, but the war had ended his research before he could present an alternative. Zach had been the only one willing to take the new treatment.
Getting through the genetic alteration had been torture. Zach’s immune system had gone into overdrive, and he’d lain for weeks at the lab, under Doc’s constant care. Alternating between pain and weakness and fever until his body had finally found its own balance.
Uncertain whether or not the treatment was a success, Doc had waited two long years before injecting Zach with the GV-3 virus. Both of them had been nervous about it. Doc most of all. He intended to harvest the blood, monitor it, and perhaps find a cure. In twenty-four hours, Zach had gotten a mild case of the sniffles, then a fever that spiked to dangerous degrees for several days. After some residual weakness for two weeks, Zach had gone back to being Zach. So far, it was the only sign that anything foreign had entered his body. Still, Doc monitored his blood as often as he could, seeking any signs at all that GV-3 would rear its ugly head. It hadn’t. Zach was clean.
The genetic alteration seemed to be effective, but Doc wanted more data. Soon he would begin the gene treatment on at least half of his men. If it proved to be safe, he would have to find a way to get it to the rest of the population. That would not be easy. There wasn’t enough material means to do something on such a large scale, not nearly enough manpower, and he would have to fight the Hunters and the Pirates every step of the way.
And then there would be the long journey to a cure for those already infected. Zach’s blood could save the world, if he didn’t get himself killed first. It was a big responsibility, but he had other responsibilities, too. Doc had long since stopped trying to tie Zach down. It couldn’t be done. Zach was running too hard, trying to get away from himself. Doc knew it, but there was nothing he could do to help. Only Zach could do that.
Doc put the vials of blood in a tray and stared out the window overlooking the swamp. “I’m so close, so damn close. But I’m running out of supplies, testing materials.”
Zach reached for his leather jacket and put it on. “You let me worry about the easy stuff. You just stay focused on the hard stuff.”
Doc turned to look at him, a sad, half-smile on his face. “I wouldn’t trade places with you, my friend. I feel like my job is the easy one.”
Zach gave him an affectionate clap on the shoulder. “I’ll get you whatever you need whenever you need it.”
Doc looked away. “These things are getting more and more scarce. I don’t know if it can be done anymore.”
“It can be done. You just say the word.”
Doc nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.
Zach stared toward the door, already dreading his meeting with Serena.
“Do you want me to do it?” Doc asked.
Zach shook his head, then steeled himself for what was to come. He was not a man given to emotion, or dealing with them, but somehow he knew Serena would prefer hearing the news from him.
When he emerged from Doc’s lab, he found her nearby, laughing and playing with a sparkling clean, tawny colored canine that could only be Hangdog. Coon-ass was there with her, joining in her game, but he broke away from the twosome when he noticed a somber Doc motioning him over, leaving
Serena alone with the dog. Zach took his cue and went to the girl. She glanced up and gave him a bright smile as he came alongside her. He noticed that a small belt had been added to her attire. It gathered the material of the t-shirt at her waist and transformed the shirt into a little dress that ended just below her knees. She looked so alive and happy, even healthy, and the sight of her only made Zach’s chore all the more difficult.
“Hello, Serena.” He winced at the guilt he heard in his own voice. A voice that sounded small even to his own ears.
Hangdog scooted closer and begged for a pat on the head. Zach gave it to him, but his eyes never left Serena’s face.
Serena watched, pleased that Zach was giving the dog some affection.
“He’s kind of golden colored, isn’t he?” he commented.
Worried that he might frighten her with the remnants of anger he knew was still there in his eyes, he focused his attention on the dog. Sometimes he forgot that the anger was always there, that he always looked just as fierce as he had on the day she’d first laid eyes on him. Even if that was precisely how she had accepted him, anger, scars, emotional inadequacies, and all, he didn’t want to look angry now.
“Yeah. I like him that way,” she answered, stepping a little closer and rubbing Hangdog’s ears gently between her fingers.
Zach knelt down beside her and looked straight into her eyes. “I have something to tell you.”
She understood the seriousness in his tone and sobered instantly. Something about his expression must have conveyed a silent message to her because she seemed to already know what he was going to say.
“Doc found something….” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it broke on the last syllable. She averted her eyes, as if she couldn’t bear for him to look at her.
“I’m afraid so.”
She looked back up at his face again, her eyes wide and fearful. “The virus? My momma told me I could get the virus if a man…t-touched me in a certain way. And that’s what they did, they….”
A muscle twitched along Zach’s jaw as he tried to contain himself. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know how to comfort people anymore.
Her chin began to tremble with the effort of holding back the tears.
“I can’t take you back to your mother,” Zach explained. “It’s too dangerous for you. Doc wants you to stay here with Hangdog and the men.”
She lifted her gaze to his, and he was stricken by the intensity of sadness in her eyes. She was afraid, poor girl. Terrified. She didn’t know what to expect. And he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. It was too horrible.
“Am I going to…die?”
Zach hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to lie to her. She deserved to know the truth of what she was facing and how long she might live. If she knew, at least then she could choose to enjoy what life she had left.
“Not yet. Doc says he can take care of you. You might live another ten or fifteen years. Who knows, maybe Doc will find a cure by then. If he does, you’ll be the first person to receive it. That would make you a pretty important girl.”
Her eyes began to fill with tears, and her lower lip quivered. She was holding her breath, trying not to cry, trying to be brave. Silently, he opened his muscled arms. Without a moment’s hesitation, she went into them and began to weep against his big shoulder. She was so tiny in his arms, so frail, so young.
His heart went out to her. He wished he had the power to make things better for her, but there was nothing he could do. It was out of his hands, beyond his control. Much as he wanted to, he
couldnchange it. All he had to offer her was restitution. And he would. He would find the men who had done this thing to her, and he would make them pay. By God, he would make them pay.
Time stood still for them as Zach held her. She clung to him in desperation and despair, her sobs reaching into his soul and ripping his heart to shreds. Feeling inept and helpless, he rocked her gently, holding her, giving her all that he could in the way of emotional support. He was surprised that he had any solace to offer—he hadn’t touched anyone like this in years—but he offered it to her willingly.
