Mary was looking out the window as we approached.
Framed in the window, her face seemed to be disintegrating, dissolving with fear. Her cheeks were pinched in and her eyes were huge and staring. Jerry waved but she didn’t acknowledge the gesture. She turned, looking back into the room. Her profile spread like a pale wash against the glass. Then we had passed the window and I heard the bolt rasp free. Mary opened the door and stepped out. Jerry’s shoulders twitched as, instinctively, he tried to comfort her in his arms, but found the laden box between them. Mary was crying.
‘Hey, now… it’s okay,’ the sheriff said.
‘It’s not okay; nothing is okay.’
‘We’ll be all right. Just a question of — ’
‘Doctor Winston is here,’ she said.
‘Hey, that’s great,’ Jerry said. He went through the door. Winston was standing in the corner, smoking a cigar, hands clasped behind his back. He looked as if he were thoughtfully considering a diagnosis.
‘Glad you made it,’ Jerry said. He put the box on the desk. ‘That you thought to come here.’
‘Mary doesn’t seem to think it such a good idea,’ Winston said. He was calm enough, but he’d been chewing on the cigar; the wrapper had started to uncurl.
Jerry looked at the girl, blinking.
‘Doctor Winston has been… wounded,’ she said.
Jerry started, all his big body going taut.
‘He hasn’t touched me,’ Mary added, quickly. ‘He came to the door. I let him in. I was glad to see him… I didn’t know he had been hurt.. ’
‘How’d it happen, Doc?’
‘Why, it was one of these lunatics that seem to be about. That’s why I came down here… to see if you had any idea what is going on here? Something to do with the research in the compound, is it? I tried to phone there but couldn’t get past the switchboard and, by the way, I’ve heard nothing from my nurse…’
‘How long, Doc?’
‘What? Well, I phoned there at — ’
‘How long is it since you were attacked?’
‘Well, what does… or does it?’ Comprehension came into the doctor’s face. He took the cigar from his teeth. ‘It does matter, eh? Apparently you know more about this than I. What is it, some sort of germ warfare?’
‘Doc… how long?’
Winston winced at Jerry’s tone. They were friends; he didn’t understand it. He had paled slightly under his normal flush and Jerry’s jaws were tight with great bands of muscle.
Winston said, ‘Better part of an hour,’ and he was watching the sheriff carefully, gauging his reaction. Winston was a big, heavy man; he looked to have a slow metabolism. I relaxed somewhat but, in relaxing, went icy cold. ‘What is it, Jerry? What sort of thing is it? Am I liable to contaminate you by being here?’
Jerry didn’t know what to say.
I said, ‘Let’s have a drink.’
I think I’d managed to keep my voice normal. Jerry shot me a grateful glance. I opened a bottle of Mendoza’s rum and Jerry fetched glasses. We weren’t going to share the bottle with Winston. He was standing behind the desk and we stood opposite. Winston took a large swallow and licked his lips.
‘Excellent,’ he said. Then: ‘Well? Is it terminal?’
‘Not terminal,’ I said.
I had taken this upon myself and Jerry was glad enough to waive his authority. I sipped some rum. Winston watched me. I wasn’t sure if I should deceive him or not. Every man has his own way of facing death and a right to face it that way and if this had been a natural disease, no matter how lethal or painful, I would have told him the truth. But it was not natural. This was a thing that created its own values and judgements.
I said, ‘They have an antidote, at the compound.’
Jerry gave me a sharp look and I could tell he was thinking the same as me. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked down at his boots.
‘That’s why your nurse was taken to the compound,’ I went on. ‘We’ll have to take you there, or bring the antidote here. That’s all.’
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ Winston said. ‘The way you were all acting, I thought I was a goner. But what is it, anyway? The way these lunatics are running around… some new strain of rabies?’
‘I believe it’s something of that nature.’
‘They shouldn’t have been fooling around with that.’
‘They know that… now.’
I refilled our glasses. I didn’t flinch as I leaned across the desk to pour into the doctor’s glass. Mary’s glass was still full; she said, ‘Is it wise to be drinking? I mean… hadn’t we better keep our wits about us?’
‘I think it’s better if we have a few drinks,’ Jerry said.
Mary knew what we were going to do, then. She said, ‘Oh, yes. I’ll have a drink as well.’ Then she realised that she already had a fall glass in her hand. She sipped. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she was no longer sobbing. We drank slowly and steadily. Doctor Winston seemed to be actually relishing the rum. Jerry and I needed it. We watched the doctor carefully, wondering what the first signs would be; whether it would be a sudden rage or a gradual transition? Unblinking, he gazed back over the rim of his glass. I started to pour some more rum.
‘Hadn’t we better see about this antidote, then?’ Winston said. ‘I suppose it should be administered as soon as possible. I’ll prescribe a good healthy dosage of rum for all of us afterwards.’
He spoke slowly, as if deliberating each word. I wondered if he were getting drunk or if the process was starting to affect his ability to form the words. But he looked at us with clear, alert eyes. He looked almost amused. I had a terrible idea that we hadn’t deceived him, after all; that he was playing the game with us, protecting our feelings as we tried to protect him from the truth.
Jerry snorted and slammed his glass down on the desk.
‘I’ll take the doc up to the compound now,’ he said. ‘You stay here with Mary. We won’t be long.’
I said, ‘I’ll go with him, if you like.’
Jerry stared at me. He appreciated my offer and he knew the doctor a lot better than I did. I think he was tempted to let me do it. But maybe he didn’t trust my nerve; he had seen me cringe from dead Mendoza, never even attempting to use the rifle.
‘No, it’s better if I go,’ he said.
Winston was looking back and forth between us.
‘I don’t suppose I could go on my own?’ he said.
Again I saw that look in his eyes. Jerry saw it, too.
‘Come on, doc,’ he said.
Mary was sitting with her face in her hands. She looked up at me once or twice, then lowered her face again immediately. We were not drinking now. I was taut as a tuning fork, waiting to vibrate to the sound of the gun… but no shot sounded.
Then Jerry came back in, his face a mask of anguish.
‘Goddamn me!’ he cried.
He slammed the door; across the room, the bars rattled.
I looked at Jerry, puzzled. I have never seen such torment on a face. He walked to the bars and gripped them, a prisoner outside the cell… inside a black despair.
‘He knew,’ Jerry said. ‘He walked on ahead of me… never looked back once. I guess he knew. I followed him. But I walked slower and slower… and he just kept on at the same pace, so I was dropping behind… and when he turned off towards the compound, I stopped… and came back. I let him go. I couldn’t do it! Goddamn me to hell!’ he screamed, cursing himself… for not killing his friend.