Page 118 of Doomsdate

Bars? Where am I?

Static crackles. Then, “Is he still breathing?” The voice hitches, but smooths out by the end of the question.

Gemma. She’s speaking to Gemma.

Everything hurts. I try to move, and it sends the room spinning again.

“Yes, but he’s out cold.” Maisie twists in her seat to check on me. Her taut, nervous face goes slack, her mouth dropping open. “Oh my god, he’s awake!”

“Oh my god!” Gemma repeats, then repeats it again. “His eyes—are they normal?” Her voice wobbles shrill and intense over the radio waves. Maisie’s talking to her through a ham radio, the one Gramps used to talk to Maisie, I guess.

And I’m in a cage? Yes, a cage. Lying on my side on a thin cot inside an actual cage.

What kind of freak was Gramps, anyway?

Maisie squints at me. “Yes! They’re normal!”

Funny how nobody’s asked me anything yet. I moan, bringing a hand to my aching head. Maisie runs over to me, stopping short a few safe feet away. “Everett? How are you feeling?”

“Awful? Like I fell down a flight of stairs and was dragged across a floor, then stuffed into a cage?” I close one eye, then the other, blinking against the harsh lights. “What happened?”

“You fainted!” Maisie exclaims, wiping tears from her eyes. “Then you fell down the stairs and I dragged you across the floor and stuffed you into a cage.”

“Ah.” I hoist myself up onto one elbow. “That explains things.”

Maisie grins through her tears. She reaches out tentatively for my hand, and I push mine through the cage to meet hers. Her eyes slide closed, relieved, as our fingers intertwine. “Ah, you’re warm still.”

“I’m alive still.” I squeeze her hand. “Ask Gemma what she’s learned about bite transmission. How long do I—have?” My voice cracks along the words.

“Oh, right, I was just getting to that.” Maisie gently releases me, then scoots back to the desk. “Gemma, what have you found about the otherwise immune’s propensity to get the virus from bites?”

“Not much, to be honest. People turn anywhere between five minutes and ten hours, though each day the window between bite and conversion shortens, likely due to the virus’s rapid mutations. Yesterday’s average was fourteen minutes. My working theory is that it depends on how much of the catalyst you already have in your system and how much of the activated viral load transmits through the bite.”

Maisie’s breath trembles. She presses the talk button. “Has anyone been bitten and not turned?”

“Not…yet. Not that we’ve seen.”

The metal bunker is quiet after that. I take a ragged breath in, and Chicken appears beyond my cage. “Hey, girl.” I reach through the bars to stroke behind her ear, but she surprises me by squeezing inside to lie in front of my chest, floofing right against my heart. It’s still beating, for now. I wrap an arm around her and spoon her close, which she tolerates. Also for now.

“Hey, that’s a good sign,” Maisie says, her voice shaky. “She’s not hissing.”

“Or maybe I’m the only zombie that gets a pass.” I snuggle my face into her. “You’ll still love me if I’m undead? Hmm?”

She scoots away, which I deserve. Maisie huffs through her tears, a wobbly, desperate sound.

“Listen, Maisie. I think we need some—new ground rules.”

“Oh, yeah?” She tries to smile, her breath escaping in stray sobs. “What are these new rules, Professor?”

“First, you have to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid once I turn. Don’t let me out of this cage. Don’t try to take me back to Gemma. Don’t risk yourself whatsoever. If I die and reanimate, I want you to tase me. I need you to.” I pin her with my eyes. “Promise me, Maisie.”

She takes a deep breath. It catches in her chest, but when she releases it, she sounds stronger than before. “I promise.”

“Second, promise me that if you need anything, you’ll go to my family for help. They care about you, Maisie. They are your people now, too.”

Maisie blinks against the new tears welling in her eyes. “I promise.”

“Lastly, I want you to acknowledge that you have, in fact, Miseryed me.” I gesture at the cage surrounding me, the bunker beyond, the wounds she’s expertly bandaged on my arm.