Alexander shook his head. “Maybe, but maybe the bots require live virus to work. Maybe the bots protect the virus as they carry it, but they release it periodically, and they require viruses to do their work. Maybe the bots manufacture the virus. Maybe the bots are viruses. But who knows? There’s just too much we don’t know.”
“You don’t know something?” Vin said with fake incredulity. “You sounded so sure about your virus and nanobots bullshit.”
“Actually, I said—”
“Never mind,” Vin said. “I think we should try it.”
“Even though we don’t know if she’s infected?” Alexander pointed out.
“And when did we see someone not get infected?” Vin asked.
“That was when their brains were eaten,” Alexander countered. “The rules might be different for this type of transmission.”
“Alexander, you don’t really believe that,” Vin said. “As I said, I vote we try it.”
“So now we’re voting on whether to infect people intentionally?” Marty asked.
“Yes. Yes, we are,” Vin asserted. “Anyone else want to join me?”
“I do.”
“Jocelyn!” Alexander exclaimed. “You can’t be serious.”
Jocelyn merely nodded. She believed Alexander had been right up till now—that it was highly transmissible. Everyone knew Janice and Emily were infected. Alexander was being a coward.
“Sheriff?” Vin asked.
“I don’t think we should do it. I agree with Alexander, it’s too risky.”
“So we have a tie,” Vin said. “Jize, it’s all up to you.”
“Oh damn,” Jize said quietly. After a long pause, he said, “I think it’s better we wait until we understand more.”
“We may never understand more,” Jocelyn said.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Day Nine
Janice’s heart fluttered as the van pulled into her driveway. Her home was on a side road about a half mile from the highway, carved out of the forest of evergreen trees. She sat nearest to the sliding door to be the first to get out. She left Emily to Jize’s care, who admirably fulfilled a role as a father figure to Emily. Vin, while still her Prince Charming, had no interest in such a role. Janice understood this—he did not have children, and she knew what that was like. In fact, she herself was reluctant to take on the motherly role for Emily. But Janice knew Emily needed a mother-figure, and Jocelyn showed no interest in that, either. Jocelyn also bore the burden of being half-zombie, and although Janice knew Jocelyn could manage the motherly role if she had to, Janice was glad to ease Jocelyn of that burden. Also, Janice had the unique benefit of having known Emily for a week now.
But Janice was not ashamed to admit, at least to herself, that none of them were as important to her as her cat, Toonces. Janice was a big Saturday Night Live fan back in her day, and she had named the cat after the “cat who could drive a car.”
When the van stopped, she grabbed the handle of the sliding door and hesitated. What am I going to do if she’s not all right? Can I even handle it? But I must. My only alternative is to leave her to die, and now that I have a chance to save her, that won’t happen.
Janice slid the van door open and jumped out. She found herself running toward her front door, barely registering the ground. Already prepared for this moment, she reached into the front pocket of her pink sweat pants and produced a can of tuna.
The door was ajar, and she barreled through as if she were chased.
“Toonces!” she called. “Toonces!”
In the diffuse light, brought in only by the Sun, she spotted a torn open box of cereal on the counter, and her heart skipped again as she realized Toonces might still be alive. But did she survive the freezing cold nights? In the kitchen, her water dish was not empty, though her food dish was clean. Oh, how she wished she’d used a food tower! Then she spied some dried vomit with some undigested cereal in it. Since the box still had cereal remaining, she realized that Toonces had had trouble digesting it.
She opened the can of tuna, realizing she was hungry herself and would love to eat it right out of the can. She knew Toonces would.
If she could find her.
“Toonces!” she called. “Toonces!”
“Meeow!” She announced herself, leaping onto the dining room table like she always loved to do.
Toonces!
Janice put down the open can on the table in front of her, and she dug right in. Janice could see her ribs, that she had lost some weight, but otherwise she looked good.
“All this because of a cat,” Vin said. No one said anything to contradict him.
Ah, screw them. They’ll never understand. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.
“The door latch is broken,” Vin said. “Someone may be in here. Sheriff, you check the bathroom. I’ll check the bedrooms. Jocelyn, guard the rest.”
“You didn’t tell me,” Jize said, “you have a piano.” Janice turned and looked at him. His expression was priceless. Janice couldn’t tell which one of them was more painfully joyful.
“Bathroom clear!” the sheriff called.
“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Janice said, “in case we didn’t make it here.”
Jize just stared at it. Old and yellowed and small, it was all Janice could afford. She had bought it used around twenty years ago.
“Have you played recently?” he asked. “Is it tuned?”
“Bedrooms clear!” Vin called.
“I play all the time. It was tuned fine before . . . “ She didn’t finish her thought. In her mind, if you didn’t talk about it, you didn’t have to relive it. Their lives were horrible enough as it was without reliving that horror. Emily seemed to relive it in her dreams every other night. And during the day, she continued to offer tidbits of what happened spontaneously, apropos of nothing.
Vin and the sheriff came back.
Jize stood transfixed. Tears dripped from off his cheeks.
“What’s with him?” Vin asked Janice.
Janice ignored Vin. “Would you play something for us Jize?” Janice asked.
“Ah, hell,”
