At the top of the staircase, the man stopped, causingthem all to pile up on top of each other. He turned and swung an open hand atKatie's face. The sting of the slap echoed through the empty halls of themansion, rocking Katie's head to the side. Her hand went to her faceautomatically, and then he stood in front of her, his finger in her face,pointing, rage spewing from his lips as he spoke. "Get this fuckingstraight. There are two things in this world I care about, my wife and thatboy. Now that boy, he's sick. He's sick as fuck, and he needs something that wedon't have, and you fuckers are going to get it for me."
"And what if we don't?" she asked, her cheekpulsing as the blood redistributed itself throughout her cheek.
"Then you're going to wait, all of you. And when myboy dies, I'm going to take it out on you. On all of you."
If it were just Katie, she would put him to the task. Shedidn't like being hit, and the man across from her was a dead man as far as shewas concerned.
"What's wrong with your boy?" Joan asked.
The bull-necked man quieted suddenly, either unable orunwilling to say. The man in the FBI hat had no such problem. "He gotbit."
The bull-necked man looked at the man in the FBI hat andsaid, "Shut up, J.B."
"A bite?" Joan asked. "By one of thosethings?"
The bull-necked man gave J.B. a look that said he wasgoing to punch his lights out. "Yeah. We were on the run, scavenging fromhouse to house when it happened. I took my eyes off the boy for a second, justone second, and then... well. You know."
"How long ago was this?" Clara asked.
"About three days," the man replied. Katie wasshocked at how he could say it with a straight face.
"Three days? This is bullshit," Katie scoffed.
"No. It's true," the man said. "How longwould you say it's been, J.B.?"
J.B.'s answer was quick, and firm. "At least threedays, if not more." J.B. shrugged when they looked at him. "Time'sweird anymore. Am I right?"
He was right. Time was weird. But it couldn't be thatweird, not weird to the point that this man's son could be surviving a bitefrom the dead longer than any of them had ever heard of.
"Can I see the boy?" Joan asked.
"Why? You a doctor?" the bull-necked man asked.
"Yes, actually. My name is Joan, and I am adoctor," she stated, exasperation and impatience mixed equally in hervoice.
"Well, shit. Why didn't you say so?" Thebull-necked man led the others back down the hallway, into the bedroom. Theyhad almost forgotten about Katie who still stood on the stairs, wondering ifthere were any weapons nearby.
J.B. leaned backwards at the doorway to the bedroom andsaid, "Are you coming?"
She turned and walked towards the bedroom, plotting howshe was going to kill their captors. In the bedroom, they crowded around thechild. He was in and out of consciousness and seemed delirious. Joan held theboy's hand in her own, looking down at the scabrous bite mark that marred hisleft hand. The ring of teeth marks were visible, and a chunk of flesh wasclearly missing from the boy's hand.
His body was covered in sweat, and the mother, or atleast she assumed it was the mother, looked on with worry on her face.
"There's clotting, coagulation, and it looks likeit's trying to heal itself. You say this happened a week ago?" Joan asked.
"Yes," the man responded.
Joan held the hand up to the dim light from the lamp,looking at it the way a pawn shop owner might scrutinize a questionable pieceof jewelry. "If that's the case, then this is healing rather slowly."Joan looked down at the boy, a searching look on her face. "Has he beenlike this since he got bit, in and out?"
The mother spoke for the first time and said, "No.He was ok for the first day, just tired. The second day, he was out cold, andwe were worried that he was going to... to... you know."
Joan nodded her head.
The mother continued. "The only way we knew he wasstill with us was because his forehead was burning up. He had a fever, but hewasn't breathing very deeply and he didn't move at all. We thought he was goingto die. We know bites cause it, and maybe we should have done something, buthe's fighting it. You can see that. He's fighting it."
Joan chewed on her lips. "Does he appear to begetting better?"
"Oh, very much so. He's said a few words."
"Like I said, that's why you're here. If we can gethim some sort of medicine, something that will help him fight off theinfection, then maybe he'd have a chance. Judging from that lady's arm, it'snot like we're asking you to do something you weren't planning on doinganyway." The man waved an arm in Katie's direction, and she covered up thescabbed over wound with her hand. She hadn't been bitten, at least not by oneof the dead. Even now, on the palm of her good hand, she could feel the heatpouring from the wound. It had become red, a little bit puffy, and she knewthat she needed some sort of antibiotics in the near future.. But she didn'tlike having the situation pointed out and foisted upon her because then itwasn't her choice, and her life had been full of so many things that weren'ther choice. She would rather die now than have anything to do with thebull-necked man. Everything about him angered her. She would kill them all.
Joan said, "You have to know that antibiotics mightnot work."
The man's eyes became wide and he squinted at Joan,"And you have to know that he's my boy, and we have to try. I would do itmyself, but if... if things go bad, then I need to be here."
"Why?" Katie asked.
He looked at her, a look as cold a metal shavings on ashop
