She dropped into a chair, exhausted. As she stretched, she felt the sting on her leg where she’d cut herself with the scalpel. She looked up to ask those nice people for a little hydrogen peroxide, but the woman had her back to her.
She focused her attention on the other doctor as he stood under some bright lights; his visor reflected the female doctor like a mirror. Just as Lucia was about to open her mouth, Eva made a gesture that struck terror in Lucia. The doctor pointed to the man’s gun, then drew her hand across her neck.
The woman said, “I think we’d better wait inside that—hey! What’re you doing?”
Lucia sprang to her feet and threw her arm around the woman’s neck, holding the scalpel at eye level. Then it dawned on her that she didn’t have a clue what to do next.
“I want outta here. Now!”
“Calm down! Let Dr. Méndez go! Please!” The other doctor’s voice trembled as he raised his gun.
Lucia was pretty sure that this guy, probably a lab assistant, didn’t have the nerve to shoot. “You have to be a special breed to shoot someone as you’re looking him in the eyes,” Prit once said. Lucia was pretty sure the assistant didn’t have what it took. So she took a deep breath and squeezed the doctor’s neck tighter.
“I want outta here. Now! Or I swear to God, I’ll slit her throat from ear to ear.”
“Listen, you can’t leave!” Dr. Méndez gasped. “The Undead in the lab have hurt your leg; you may be infected. Just let me go.”
“Nobody hurt my leg,” said Lucia, tersely.
“You’re bleeding,” the other doctor pointed out, as if that wasn’t obvious.
“I cut myself! I was holding a knife and I stumbled and fell. I accidentally cut myself. Got it?” She had little hope they’d believe her.
“Sure, sure you did. You cut yourself with half a dozen infected Undead surrounding you. I heard that story at the Valencia Safe Haven a million times.” Eva gasped. “Hey… you’re…choking… me…”
“Is there another way out?” Lucia asked slightly loosening her grip on the doctor’s neck. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, but she had to escape. If they thought she was infected, she knew all too well what the “treatment” was.
“There’s another airlock that leads to the dispatch area.” The lab assistant’s voice wavered as he pointed to the door behind him.
“Dammit, Andrés! Shut the fuck up!” Eva snapped, her eyes shooting daggers.
At that moment, Lucia loosened her grip. That was the chance Dr. Méndez had been waiting for. The doctor drove her head backwards, bashing her headgear against Lucia’s forehead. For a moment, colored spots danced before the girl’s eyes. She elbowed Lucia in the chest, knocking the wind out of her, then broke free and jumped to one side.
“Shoot, Andrés, shoot! She’s infected!”
“I can’t shoot, Eva! I can’t! You do it!”
“Give me that, asshole,” Dr. Méndez growled and yanked the gun out of his hand.
That struggle gave Lucia time to slip into to the next room, whose open door beckoned to her. She flung herself through the airlock and slammed the door behind her. At the last moment, a hand appeared through the door, clutching her arm.
“I’ve got her, doctor, I’ve got her!” The assistant’s voice sounded triumphant until Lucia plunged the knife deep into his forearm, forcing him to withdraw. “Aaayyyy, I’m hurt, doctor! I think she bit me!”
Lucia slammed the door and pressed the button on the wall. Seconds later, the chemicals burned her eyes again. After two long minutes, the light turned green and she entered a cluttered office with papers and books piled everywhere. Lucia stumbled through the mess and came to a window that opened onto a dimly lit ventilation shaft. Attached to one wall was a fire escape ladder that led to the upper floors. Without hesitating, the girl started to climb up to street level.
Outside there was chaos. Hordes of people pushed their way through the crowd and shoved each other down the stairs, stumbling, shouting hysterically. A group of nurses were trying to treat the wounded in the hallways, but the flood of people overwhelmed them. Gunshots still came from inside the hospital. Some of the security forces must not have realized they were chasing their own shadows.
“Hey, you, come here!” A stocky, dark-skinned male nurse grabbed her arm. Terrified, Lucia tried to break free, but the man was too strong. “Calm down, honey, I just want to help you! Here, let me see those cuts.”
Before Lucia realized what was happening, the nurse swept her into a garden area where a doctor had set up a makeshift hospital.
“The cut on your leg isn’t very deep, but your forehead took a good hit. What the hell did you get in your eyes? Someone must be spraying tear gas,” he said as he flushed her eyes out with distilled water. Lucia instantly felt relief.
“I’m fine, thanks, I’m fine,” was all Lucia could mutter.
“You don’t look fine. Better take it easy for a while, at least until things get sorted out.” The nurse gave her a scrutinizing look. Just then, two orderlies set down a stretcher; on it lay a soldier with a gaping gunshot wound in the chest. When the nurse turned his attention to the wounded man, Lucia slipped out the side of the garden.
A few feet from the hospital, she stopped, hoping her head would stop spinning.
She leaned against an empty shop window and stared at her reflection. She looked like she’d been through a hurricane. Her hair was matted from the chemical showers, her white pants were stained red from the cut, her eyes were red and swollen, and she had a huge bump in the middle of her forehead.
No wonder people’re staring at me. It’s strange that they aren’t running away in terror. I look like a junkie strung out on crack.
A group of civil guards came running down the sidewalk. Lucia’s first impulse was to tell them what had happened. Sister Cecilia and Maite had been killed before her very eyes. The police needed to catch the killers. They might still be in the area. She shuddered and glanced around fearfully.
She started to cross the street, but a dark thought stopped in her tracks. If you tell those guards that crazy story about gunmen, a nun, and some Undead, they’ll probably lock you up while they investigate that mess. Especially looking the way you do. Those doctors in the lab (the Zoo, they’d called it) were probably giving the hospital guards a detailed description of a nurse with red eyes who was “wounded” by the Undead.
Those doctors wanted to kill me. I didn’t do anything wrong, but they wouldn’t listen. They’d wanted to kill me. But why? She was on the verge of tears.
Because they’re afraid of you, idiot. They’re terrified of another outbreak of that virus and they think you might open that door to hell.
But I haven’t done anything wrong! I didn’t even get near the Undead.
Think anyone cares about that? The voice in her head laughed bitterly. Now, be a good girl and run along. Save your own neck.
Keeping her head down, Lucia walked past the guards. The honk of a horn startled her. A heavy military truck roared up and screeched to a stop in front of the hospital. Heavily armed legionnaires jumped out and ran inside.
With a shudder, Lucia took off running in the opposite direction. She realized she had nowhere to go. She was a fugitive.
44
“What the hell is this?” growled the sergeant, too stunned to move. “Some kind of sick joke!”
“This is no joke, asshole,” Marcelo replied slowly, almost chewing his words. “It’s simple. We’re leaving, you’re staying.”