To Be A Warrior

Chapter 8: Sleep When I'm Dead

"Okay!" Sam says cheerfully. "That's six forest settlements visited; six cure deliveries made. A good thing Veronica's got a couple of cure synthesizing facilities running. These isolated communities do need their own supply."

Maxine nods, but there's a troubled look on her face. "Well, that's not all they need. Millerton badly needs antibiotics for that pneumonia epidemic, but we can't spare any."

I look away, becoming very interested in the greenery as we pass it. Everyone knows I can't get sick anymore thanks to Van Ark's treatments. Sometimes I forget that other things can hurt people. The zombie virus isn't the only sickness around, just the one we've been most focused on since the world ended.

I always hate getting the dose of reality when I hear about other places falling ill, or seeing it firsthand with people in Abel.

The one good thing about me being immune to basically everything is that I can care for the people I love when they get sick without worrying about catching it myself, but it's hard to truly relate to them anymore. I remember being sick as a kid, but I don't remember it. It makes me feel bad, guilty almost.

"From what you said last week, Five, Veronica's working as hard as possible, but we can't expect a range of drugs any time soon," Paula says, and I nod.

"Veronica is fast, but with the V-Types and Bad A.N.N.I.E. constantly trying to attack her and the Last Riders messing with her models, along with... other situations, she can't focus on smaller things like this, even if it really isn't that small."

So far she hasn't said anything regarding Van Ark, or immortality. I keep waiting, checking Roufflenet, looking for any encrypted messages. Van Ark did keep a lot of paper trails, but he must have saved some of it online, right?

Right?

"More's the pity," She says. "And as we have no antibiotics for Millerton, I suppose we're heading home?"

Sam's laugh is a bit nervous, and I sigh, already knowing the work is far from over. "Yeah, so we had a call from Winton while you were running. A woman called Darlene is hiding in the woods north of you. She somehow escaped from the Last Riders, but got bitten by a zom this morning."

Maxine's eyes widen. "Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire."

"Well, yeah. Well, more like, out of the sadistic anarchist cult, into the jaws of the undead, but yeah. She didn't want to infect anyone, so she's waiting in the woods. You should have time to get the cure to her."

"Poor woman," Paula says with a shake of her head. "To finally get your freedom, only to be trapped by your body. I know what that feels like. Every transfusion to stop me going gray, it was like Van Ark was still holding me hostage."

"It's weird he's only been dead for like, three years," I comment. "Feels like it's been longer."

"No, it doesn't," Sam replies, his voice low. "Let's get her cured. Run."

I roll my eyes because we're already running, but don't comment on it. Instead I give a chipper "Yes, sir" and pump my legs a tad bit faster.

I feel bad for this Darlene woman. She must be feeling anxious, afraid. Even though the cure is available, we have to make sure we get it to her before it's too late.

I find myself smiling. Not because Darlene was bitten, but because of some how far we've come.

Eight months ago, the idea of being cured after being bitten was absurd. There was a vaccine, but not a cure. If you got bit and wasn't vaccinated, it was off to the plasmapheresis machine, which would only give you a few years of life before you met a slow and painful end. It's weirdly funny to look back and see how things have changed.