"There's an executive bathroom attached. I brought up all the first aid kits I could find, just in case. You are welcome to use them. Do you mind if I take a look?" Dr. Schneider approached Nella and lifted the edge of her shirt without waiting for an answer.
"Uh- sure," said Nella, beginning to ease her way out of the sling and her sweater with Frank's help. She didn't want to look at the wound, afraid it would be worse than what she imagined, but she couldn't ignore Dr. Schneider's sharp intake of breath when the bandages were removed. Nella looked at Frank instead of Dr. Schneider. Instead of smiling reassuringly at her, he had gone very pale and tightened his arm around her waist.
"Let's put her down on the sleeping bags," Dr. Schneider said, "I've got some tetracycline from the labs. It should work if she has a staph infection, which is the most probable. It was a bite wasn't it?"
"Yes," said Frank as he eased Nella down onto the pile of sleeping bags in the center of the room, "But the guy was- well he was basically rotting from the inside out."
Frank followed Dr. Schneider toward the bathroom. "Did you sterilize the needle?" Dr. Schneider was asking as they walked out of earshot. Nella pictured Frank rolling his eyes and smiled in spite of her worry. At least they were working together. She sank back into the blankets, wishing for dose of aspirin. Who knew it would take more than the end of the world to turn me into a drug addict, she thought with a wry smile, or that aspirin would be my drug of choice? Just as the bite on my hand gets better . . . She tried to turn her thoughts away from her wounds as she waited for Frank and Dr. Schneider to return.
Dr. Schneider seemed to think it would be easy to revive the bacteria, but Nella realized very few people would still have access to beef. Bleach or vinegar, maybe, alcohol was practically it's own currency these days. Who would have access to cows though? The military still raised and butchered them, the Farm raised a few, mostly for milk products though. When a bull was killed it was like a festival in the City though. Everyone got some, but it was barely a scrap. But Dr. Schneider had said just broth. And gelatin. Gelatin was from the bones wasn't it? Those would be less in demand, but someone would still have to wait around for the cow to be killed. And then know the right person to ask. Nella didn't know very many people that were able to keep cows. She'd seen a lot of chicken coops in the City, but those were easy. In fact Chris and Sevita had a few and Nella contributed her table scraps to keep them going. A cow required a lot more land. Those that lived on the outskirts maybe? Nella shook her head. This was the wrong way to go about it. She'd never expected to have to think like a detective and she kept starting at the wrong spots.
The real key would finding out who knew about the Recharge bacteria. Who knew about it and who would want to use it? Or did anyone want to use it? Maybe someone knew about it and wanted it destroyed. Why wouldn't they have simply stepped forward and said so? Well, Nella admitted, they hadn't exactly been shouting from the rooftops about the Recharge bacteria. Maybe whoever it was didn't know anyone had found out. Maybe they were involved with creating it. Nella sighed. It all came back to who knew about the bacteria in the first place. Until she answered that, nothing else was certain. Frank came back from the bathroom and Nella saw Dr. Schneider setting several supplies on the large desk.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked Frank with a nervous laugh. He didn't return her smile but looked grim.
"Do you think you can manage a shower if I help?" he asked.
"Of course. There's a shower here?"
Frank helped her up. "Executive bathroom with all the bells and whistles."
"I would have killed for an office like this back in the day," Nella said. Frank finally grinned.
"Back in the day when you were still a lowly student intern?" he said. Nella laughed. They walked to the bathroom.
"I can probably do this myself," she said softly so that Dr. Schneider wouldn't overhear. Frank hesitated. "Don't be disappointed," she laughed, "this is not going to be attractive."
Frank blushed and smiled. "It's not that," he said, his tone turned serious, "Dr. Schneider thinks you have a fever and with the blood you've already lost, you might faint if you get in the hot water."
"There's hot water?" Nella said, distracted from her embarrassment for a moment.
"Yeah, the solar cells were meant for the whole building to run on. One tank of hot water isn't going to touch it." Frank shut the door. "I can sit with my back to the shower if you want."
Nella shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm not entirely sure how well I can clean it out by myself anyway." She forced herself to look at her shoulder. It had formed a soft, dark scab, but the skin around the wound glowed and baked. It wasn't as horrific as she'd been expecting. She looked in the mirror, gingerly touching the deep red gouge that ran from the bottom of her breast to her hip. She was relieved that it was only slightly sore and not crawling with heat like her shoulder.
"You'll forget it's there after a while," Frank said from behind her, "and at least it's not on your face so casual observers won't remind you constantly."
A pang of shame struck Nella. "I wasn't thinking of the scar. I'm just glad that scrape is clean."
He lifted the hair from her shoulder and away from her wound. He kissed the base of her neck just outside the hot puffy ring of her wound. "Nella, I'm so sorry. I should have-"
She turned around to face him and held his bristly chin in her hands. "There wasn't anything you could do. We both knew what might happen. I got off pretty lightly considering. You didn't do this to me."
"I should have made you stay at the farm. You were so weak. And now I've made you even sicker."
"I'll be okay. You got everything out," she shuddered, "and if we clean it now, I should start to get better." She let him go and he stepped slightly back. He laid the gun beside her on the counter. He turned and locked the door. She watched him in the mirror as he stopped and stared at the doorknob.
"What is it?"
He shook his head but kept staring at the knob.
"What's wrong Frank?"
He looked at her, his face stricken with shock. "I can't tell you."
"What? Why?"
"I just can't. I'm sorry. Ask me later, when- when everything is over. Ask me anything then Nella, but I can't tell you now."
Frank collapsed onto the toilet lid, limbs folding like a marionette that had been cast away. He squeezed his head in his hands. "This is insane. What are we doing here?" He looked up at her as if she had some kind of answer for him.
"Trying to save what's left of the world."
"Right. A psychiatrist and a lawyer. The stuff of legends."
"Hey," she said crossing the room toward him, "We made it this far, didn't we?" She stopped in front of him and touched his shoulder. He pressed a hand on her stomach, touching the edge of the scratch gently.
"Yes. We got here. But I ruined you. And what did we come all this way for after all anyway?" Frank stared past her at the door again. Nella laughed to cover her confusion.
"I'm not ruined." She turned his face away from the door and back toward her, "And you didn't cause any of this."
What had he noticed? She glanced at the doorknob but didn't dare to stare. She scraped the backs of her nails against his stubble. "This must be itchy," she smiled trying to refocus him. His smile was automatic and it never reached wherever his eyes had gone. Nella sighed and stepped back. She turned on the shower. The hiss of the water snapped him free of his thoughts. Nella fumbled with her bra for an achy, frustrating moment and then felt his long fingers brushing her hair from her neck and unsnapping the clasps.
"You never will ask for help, will you?"
She didn't answer, but stepped out of the large jeans and then her underwear without looking behind her. She stood quietly so that she could hear he thud of his heavy shoes, first one and then another hitting the floor. His belt clicked and jangled
and then the soft ripple of clothes falling away. She looked at the shower and tried not to feel the ache in her shoulder.
"Well?" he said, "Are you going to get in?"
Nella took a deep breath. "This is really going to hurt."
"Dr. Schneider said she had a little bit of morphine if you needed-"
Nella whirled around in alarm. "Frank, promise you won't let her inject me with anything. I don't know her. I don't trust her."
"That's what I thought you would say."
"I can't believe you are leaving her out there unguarded after that speech downstairs."
Frank's smile vanished. "Where is she going to go? It's pitch black and there are Infected and Looters in every direction. Besides, I don't really much care whether she really goes back for trial or not."
"You don't? Why not?"
"No, I don't. The way I see it, she's never going to live happily ever after. Even if she escaped, she would be living out here, in constant fear and danger, without allies, without a safe haven. A lifetime of that is enough punishment even for my worst enemy."
"Then why tell her we are taking her back?"
"Because the world needs her to go on trial. They need some sort of justice for the people involved in this."
Nella frowned. "You mean the world needs vengeance. Not justice."
"If you like that word better. I guess, yeah, the world needs some kind of revenge for what it has lost. Because there isn't justice enough for what's been done to us. By us. It always seems to go that way, after bad times."
"But this was an accident at worst, not a planned attempt to wipe out the world. Why her and not Dr. Pazzo? Why her and not Ann? After all Ann was a willing patient zero. Who gets to decide?"
He put a hand on her hip. "Nella, I'm no longer sure that it was an accident. I'm not so sure that whatever happens next wasn't planned before either of us got involved."
"What are you talking about?"
"Never mind, get in before the water turns cold, you're covered in goosebumps."
Nella realized she was looking at him without meaning to. She blushed and stepped into the shower. The water was too heavy, like thousands of flaming hail stones smashing into her bruised skin. The pain was so intense for a moment that she thought she would vomit, but then Frank was standing in front of her, holding her against his still-cool skin. "It's okay," he kept saying in a voice she felt, rather than heard, rattle in his chest. She didn't know why he kept saying it until the wave of nausea passed and she heard her own voice sobbing and felt her legs shaking underneath her. Her skin gradually stopped screaming as if she'd been peeled down to the raw nerves and the water started to feel softer and more natural.
"I'm sorry," she said at last, "You must think I'm such a coward. I can't handle even one bite and you had a dozen. I can't imagine dying this way, devoured alive." She shut her eyes and shuddered.
"I don't think you're a coward. It was excruciating and I was only bitten by a small boy. You had a piece torn off by a full grown man." She felt him catch a sob and hold it back, but his voice was thick, clotted, when he began again. "I try not to think about what it must be like to die that way either. I can't forget how sad and frightened Sarah looked as I leapt at her. I think of it every day."
She pulled back from him and looked up at him. "Frank, I'm so sorry. I should have thought before I opened my mouth."
Frank shook his head and pushed a strand of wet hair off of her face. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you can forget that detail about me, even if it's only for a moment. It's more than I deserve and I'm grateful there is someone in the world who doesn't immediately and perpetually think of me as a monster." He reached past her for the soap, quietly clearing his throat. "Real soap. Are you ready?"
It wasn't as bad as she had expected, now that the initial shock of the water had worn off. She was sore, but clean, feeling hollowed out and left to dry in the sun. The heat of the water soon made her dizzy and another wave of nausea passed over her, forcing them out of the warm bathroom. The cool, dry air of the exterior office was a relief, though Frank still had to help her sit beside the large desk. Dr. Schneider looked grim, but she was relatively gentle.
"You know," she said as she inspected the stitches in Nella's shoulder, "The Recharge bacteria was never meant to harm anyone. I don't know if Dr. Pazzo ever told you that. It was meant to help. It was supposed to change everything for the better."
"But you didn't follow normal procedures. Ones that were set up to avoid disaster like this," Nella said gently.
"It wasn't stubbornness or greed that made me speed up testing," Dr. Schneider snapped. "All the primary tests were exactly, exactly as predicted. Robert assured me there was nothing abnormal at all. This method was supposed to help people. It was supposed to help police and medical aid workers and firemen make it safely through crises. No more injuries due to fatigue or slow thinking. No more lives lost because of careless mistakes due to overworked specialists. It was supposed to help lift depression and alleviate all the ills stemming from exhaustion, stress and trauma. All without drugs. No risk of abuse or addiction. Very low cost, much lower than other treatments. Can you imagine the changes in society when everyone, down to the poorest could be treated for mental illness? Can you imagine the happier, healthier, perhaps even less violent place it could have been? This was something we needed immediately. The world was tearing itself apart and this bacteria faced years, decades even, of further testing and verification. It would have been lunacy not to test a more powerful strain at the same time."
Nella drew in a hissing breath as Dr. Schneider became more vigorous in applying antibiotic cream onto her shoulder. Frank grabbed Dr. Schneider's wrist to stop her and the doctor looked up. "Sorry," she said, "surely you can see why I'd want to move the testing along? People needed this technology as soon as we could produce it. Not ten years later. You must understand how beneficial it was supposed to be. It was going to change medicine forever."
"It did, Dr. Schneider. Here we all are, almost a decade later, and I'm in danger of dying from an infection which would have meant a simple trip to the pharmacy before. Medicine has changed. It's been set back by a century. Maybe forever."
"Not just medicine," Frank broke in, "Civilization, in fact. Our grandparents had easier lives than our children will. Than our grandchildren will."
Dr. Schneider unrolled a gauze bandage around Nella's arm. "I hardly think that's a fair judgment," she said quietly, "I did do my best to fix it."
Nella sighed. "It's not us you have to convince, though I can't say you are even doing that. Help us find the lost samples and maybe the world will find you more persuasive."
Frank's color rose and he glanced toward the bathroom door again. It was so quick that Nella barely saw it. Dr. Schneider taped the end of the bandage down and cleared away the first aid kit, walking away from them. Frank leaned against the large desk and watched Dr. Schneider. Nella watched him.
"You know where it is." Nella was shocked to realize it.
Frank looked shaken and she could see small points of sweat glittering on his head. "No!" he said loudly and then lowered his voice to a whisper, bending toward her. "I swear Nella, if I did then I'd tell you. I'd tell everyone, consequences be damned."
"Then you guess."
"Not even that." He glanced at Dr. Schneider to be sure she wasn't watching them. "I promise, the moment I know something, anything for sure, then I will tell you. My hunches though, would only do harm."
He leaned back as Dr. Schneider returned. She handed Nella a pill bottle. "These will help with the pain. No more than two at a time."
"That's my cue," said Frank grabbing the lantern, "I'll be right back with the pack."
Dr. Schneider looked nervous as Frank left the room. Nella was too exhausted to wonder why. She dry swallowed a pill and winced at the bitter powder it left on her tongue. She thought about s
lipping the sling back over her neck so that she wouldn't move her shoulder in her sleep. But then her elbow creaked and cramped in protest and she decided against it. Dr. Schneider had already slipped into her sleeping bag and was facing the empty wall. Assured that no one would interrupt her thoughts for a moment, Nella looked back at the bathroom door. What was so important about it? It was just a door. It wasn't special in any way, and she racked her brain trying to think if they had seen an identical one any where. No memories were triggered. It was just a door. But that wasn't right. He hadn't been looking at the door. He had been staring at the doorknob. Nella stood up. She took a few steps toward the bathroom when she heard the elevator chime down the quiet hall. Her limbs tensed as a painful jolt of adrenaline shot through her. It's only Frank, of course, she thought, but she retreated to the seat by the desk again, still puzzled.
"Fresh clothes," Frank said with a grin as he walked through the door.
"Bed," Nella said with a smile. Her limbs felt like giant kelp floating in a current and there was a buzzing tingle behind her eyes. She wasn't sure if it was fatigue or the drugs. She let Frank help her dress in something clean and then crawled under the sleeping bag. She managed to wait until he was lying beside her, his hand curled around hers, before she fell down the smooth grey well in her mind.
The Vault