The general tapped in another question-asker. The screen changed to show a physician—Dr. Evestrom—standing by the matter printers down on the third basement level.

“Pardon my Trenton, General,” he said, “but, if that’s the case, then… what the Hell are you doing here?”

Vernon nodded. “This catastrophe comes with a fucking cherry on top.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “You see, Dr. Evestrom, while the rest of the world is going’ the way of Tonevay, for some Beasteaten reason that no one can understand… there are no zombies here at West Elpeck Medical Center. Every major medical center within two hundred miles of the city is a zombie-infested ruin. The patients turned feral, and then everything went to Hell.” General Marteneiss smiled. “But not here. Not at WeElMed.”

Break the Tablets!, I thought. I remembered hearing reports of outbreaks of unexplained violence at WeElMed’s sister medical centers across the city. Had that been the first stirrings of the zombie apocalypse?

“H-How… “ Dr. Evestrom shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“That’s the reason why we’re setting up a safe zone here at WeElMed,” Vernon said. “We’re going to find out why. The fate of the human race depends on it. Ladies and Gentlemen, what remains of Trenton’s military forces are now devoted to ensuring human civilization will be able to bloom again one day. I’m afraid it’s no longer about saving this world. It’s about making sure there will be pieces left for whoever comes after us.”

Vernon’s words brought up another observation of mine: the wanderers I’d seen when Cassius and I had found Mrs. Plotsky attempting to get her husband back to their room. This turned out to be a not-uncommon occurrence. In the latter stages of the infection, about one out of every three Type One cases would get up and wander around aimlessly, assuming they still had the strength to move. We’d chalked it up as a consequence of the disease’s destruction of its victims’ long-term memories. What reason would you have to stay in a hospital bed if you no longer remembered what a hospital was, or why you were in one in the first place? Obviously, you’d get up and walk around.

But, what if it was more than that?

Remembering Heggy’s warning, I leaned toward her, as close as safety allowed.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Can I ask him about the incidents we’ve had with Type One infected patients wandering the hallways?”

Blinking, Heggy shook her head and then muttered, “Why didn’t I think of that?” She looked me in the eye and nodded.

I turned to her brother.

“Uh, General,” I said.

He glared at me.

Heggy tilted her head toward her brother. “Let him speak, Vern.”

Begrudgingly, the General nodded.

“We’ve been noticing that Type One infected patients have a habit of wandering the hallways, particularly in the later stages of the disease,” I said. My voice repeated itself like an echo as the General’s console broadcast my words all across the hospital.

Ani nodded. “I’ve seen them, too,” she said. “I’ve also heard similar reports from many other wards. We try to walk them back to their rooms. Thankfully, they don’t put up much resistance,” she lowered her head, “by that time, it’s because most of their memories have already faded.”

“I know,” Vernon said. “I’ve seen the footage.”

“We’ve been attributing that behavior to their memory loss,” I explained. “But… what if it’s more than that.”

Vernon looked Ani and I in the eyes. “If the feral were just sleepwalkers like the ones you’ve got here at WeElMed, we wouldn’t have had to bomb Tonevay or any other of our compromised safe zones. Good men and women—military and civilians alike—wouldn’t have had to die.” The General gulped. “At this point, people, I hope it goes without saying that it’s paramount that we figure out what’s keeping WeElMed’s infected from going feral. To anyone listening: if you or anyone you know has theories, information, or leads on this issue—anything at all—I urge you to contact our personnel at the numbers I’ve sent to your consoles. We’re desperate here, people. Anything would be better than nothing.” He cleared his throat. “With that, I’ll let you go. We’re setting up a hotline for addressing questions and concerns. Please use this resource wisely. It is not something to be abused.” He bowed deeply. “I want all of the healthcare workers listening to this to know that we honor you and your service. We know how hard you’ve been working, how you’ve been fighting the good fight. Your cause is as good and noble as anything any man or women in uniform has ever fought for. May this battle end in victory.” He looked straight into the camera. “What we do here is not for ourselves, but for the future. Godspeed.”

— — —

With an ending like that, what could you do except get back to work? There were new patients to be admitted, and so much else. The information Vernon provided explained several mysteries, not just the wandering patients. It explained why we’d stopped getting communications from other hospitals in the region, just like it explained why the stream of new patients had plummeted in the past 24 hours or so. People weren’t just dying en masse, they were turning into zombies.

Aside from being utterly terrifying, this news also left me with a sinking feeling that the hospital’s relationship with the military encampment freshly ensconced in the Garden Court was about to get much more complicated.

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If only I had known just how prophetic that worry of mine would prove to be.

Case in point: in hindsight, I would never be able to forgive myself for leaving the conference room as quickly as I had. Yes, I had a possible miracle cure to deliver to Dr. Skorbinka, but, still…

I should have been more circumspect about the military’s involvement.

I should have been able to see past my own desperation.

But, then again, what is this story if not a tale of my regrets?

Anyhow… had I stayed behind after everyone else but Heggy and Vernon had left the conference room, I would have seen Dr. Marteneiss approach her brother with a look of fear that didn’t belong on her face.

For as long as I had known her, Heggy had been enmeshed in and grounded by her family—its identity; its history. That history was her lodestone. It was how she made sense of the world. It gave her the values she held most dear.

Vernon hung around near the console he’d been using to manage the footage he’d uploaded from his personal chip. But Heggy noticed the subtle details of his body language. The Marteneiss clan was a close-knit one. They knew how to recognize each other’s needs and worries.

Spotting the way Vernon was biting his lip, Heggy wanted to give her little brother a hug, but circumstances dictated otherwise. The corrosive spores meant that interpersonal contact had to be avoided, even while wearing hazmat suits. What protection would the plastic provide if lingering spores ate their way through it?

So, instead, Heggy settled for a good, long eye-to-eye glare.

“What’s going on, Vern?”

The General sighed. “Sis, I know that you know that it’s against regulations for me to share classified information with civilians who don’t have the necessary security clearances.”

Heggy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I have clearance, Vern. I’m your big sister. I haven’t seen you this shaken since granddad died.”

“Heggy…”

Heggy wagged her finger at him. “No, don’t you ‘Heggy’ me. Vern, I can suss out shit from a mile away, and, let me tell you,” she tapped her mask, “this little nose of mine knows you’ve gone and dumped a Beasteaten truckload on our front door. Whatever classified information you’ve got, I’ve got a damn good feelin’ it’s not gonna stay classified for much longer.” She shook her head. “I can’t help you if I don’t know. And I want to help you. Angel knows, you need it.”

Vernon sighed heavily. His stalwart posture suddenly slackened, as if the discipline had just leaked out of him. “Heg, you should be the one wearin’ my boots. I’m…” he shook his head. “I’m at the end of my rope.”

Dr. Marteneiss nodded solemnly.

Vernon stammered. His next words were not easy.

“Sis, you don’t know how bad it really is. The chain of command is basically comin’ apart at the seams. Gant is dead. Most of the Chiefs of Staff are dead, and if they’re not, they soon will be.” Vernon stomped his boot on the vinyl floor. “Crownsleep, Angel’s Rest, Seasweep, Lightsbreath, the whole Angel-damned Trueshore coast—they’re all being nuked as we speak. Nuked all the way to Paradise. And don’t get me started on other major metropolitan areas around the world.”

He stared his sister dead in the eyes.

Heggy’s jaw went agape. “The fuck…?”

Vernon lowered his head. He held a hand at his hip. “A couple days ago, only a madman would think of using nukes—so, of course Gant’s been in favor of them since Day One. In a couple of hours, Elpeck will be the only metropolitan area in the country that hasn’t been reduced to glass and ash. It’s also the single largest, most concentrated area of infection on the continent. For the good of humanity, it needs to be wiped off the face of the earth. There are too many horrors here, and they’re spreading, wandering across the countryside. And, just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, we’re even fighting amongst ourselves.”

Heggy’s eyes bulged. “What?”

“Yeah,” Vernon nodded. His head trembled with emotion. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but… last night, there was a mutiny up north, at Houseton Air-Force Base. It was right after the order to nuke Crownsleep had gone out. A bunch of pilots at Houseton refused to give up on the city, so they took matters into their own hands, commandeered some aerostats, and began bombing our missile silos.” He cleared his throat, trying to get his emotions back under control. “We could have used those. Those silos were locked tighter than the Church’s pocketbook. Now, they’re in ruins, and we barely have any ICBMs left. We’re down to using the Prelatory’s leftovers.”

“Sword cut me,” Heggy muttered, under her breath.

“The only reason you haven’t been bombed to ashes is because there aren’t zombies here. You and your colleagues are disposable. All that matters is figuring out why the zombies aren’t rampaging here, and then figuring out how to recreate the effect elsewhere. I have three days, Heggy, maybe less. If we can’t figure it out by then, we’re glassing it. We’re glassing everything. There’s no other option.”

Heggy’s lips quivered. She fought back tears. “Can’t your visits ever be just, ‘Hey, Sis, how’re you doin’?” She shook her head. “This is too heavy for me, Vern. Break the Tablets, this is too goddamn heavy.”

General Marteneiss briefly closed his eyes. “Well, I’m afraid it’s about to get heavier,” he said. “The military needs access to WeElMed’s labs, and to your NFP-20 patients, Types One and Two. We need to conduct experiments on them ASAP. The zombies have basically made that impossible pretty much everywhere else. Here, though,” he pointed at the ground, “here, we might actually have a chance to figure something out.”

Heggy clenched her fists. “Experiments?” She quivered with indignation. She stared at her brother in horror.

“It’s not gonna be pretty, Sis, and it sure as Hell not gonna be humane.”

“You can’t do this, Vernon.” Heggy shook her head vehemently. It’s not right.” She sliced her arm through the air. “They’re human beings! They have dignity!”

Tears glistened in Vernon’s eyes. “I know,” he said. “But… dignity won’t count for nothin’ if everybody’s dead. That’s why—and I’m asking this of you not just as a General of the armed forces, but as your brother, “I’d like your help with this, Sis. We have our own people, but these are your stomping grounds; your patients. It would go so much more smoothly if you could assist with selecting test subjects and overseeing the experiments we’ve got planned. I’d like to think having you around would help keep things from getting too… excessive.” He looked away. “I won’t force you to participate, I’m not a cruel man, and I don’t want to be, but,” he gulped, “with or without you, this is happening. We have a schedule to follow, and the clock is ticking.”

Biting her lip, Heggy shook her head. “People already think the Marteneisses were up to our knees in crimes against humanity in the fuckin’ Prelatory. Imagine what they’ll say after this…”

“Enough with the family skeletons already!” Vernon said. “It doesn’t matter one way or the other, not if there aren’t any survivors left to care!”

Heggy nodded gravely. “It’s about honor, Vern. Honor always matters, most of all in times like these, when everyone around you is sheddin’ their skin and revealin’ all the vipers underneath. These are the times that try men’s souls, Vern. People are countin’ on us.”

General Marteneiss breathed in deeply. “I know Heggy, I know.” He shook his head. “So… I guess that means you’re a no?”

“No, Vern,” she replied, “I’m not just a no, I’m a Hell no!”

And she stormed out the door.