Wormwood

“No, he agreed, “but it’s the same principle.”

She nodded. “It took me a long time to realize that, and I caused an awful lot of misery in the meantime. I drove you out of the house and denied Shane his father.”

He smiled. “I had faith you’d come around,” he said hoarsely.

“But all that time we lost…” she lamented. “Those are five months we’ll never get back again, and I want them back! I hate myself for throwing them away like I did, especially how things have turned out. I couldn’t bear to lose you now!”

“You’re not going to lose me; at least no more than a couple fingers worth.” He grinned and took her in his arms, holding his injured hand away from her, as if it might infect her through the dressing. “This is right where I’m supposed to be.”

Embracing him, she felt the full heat of his fever and remembered the pills.

And how few there actually were.

30

In the kitchen, she counted them out in the palm of her hand.

Damn. Only eight; not even half enough, and they were almost two years old.

I won’t lose him like this, she thought stubbornly. I won’t.

She set one of the capsules on the counter and tipped the rest back into the bottle.

WILLIAM IVERSON

TAKE 2 CAPSULES DAILY WITH FOOD OR MILK

AVOID DIRECT SUNLIGHT

TAKE UNTIL COMPLETED

Her eyes glanced down the prescription label. She got to the end and realized she’d known the doctor who’d written it. He used to make rounds at the hospital in addition to his private practice; until he’d developed colon cancer and passed away last fall.

It was a strange world, wasn’t it?

She put the bottle away in the cupboard and silently thanked Bud for ignoring the directions.

It bought her some time.

Not much, but maybe enough.

31

She brought him the antibiotics with a couple of Tylenol, made him swallow them down with a glass of water, then tried to get him to eat some applesauce, a few spoonfuls; enough for the drugs to stick to on the way down. That done, she went to the bathroom and ran cold water out of the faucet, soaking a small towel and a washcloth and laying them over his bare chest and brow. He complained a little about that, but left them alone.

She sat with him until he fell asleep, thinking of what she might do to save him.

And when she’d decided, she slipped out of the room to find her son.

32

Shane shook his head vehemently, not even waiting for her to finish. “You’re not going!” he exclaimed, eyes smoldering, his voice raised to drown out her protests. “I said forget it! If anyone goes it ought to be me! You need to stay here and take care of him!”

Pam appealed to Rudy, who was standing further back, half-eaten by shadow. “Talk to him!” she implored, her expression underscored by firelight. “Make him see the sense of it!”

“I would,” Rudy answered, “but I’m afraid I agree with him. If anyone goes to town, it ought to be Shane. I don’t condone it, but he’s better qualified than you, and your skills are better used here.”

“But he’s just a baby!” she cried, horrified.

“Mom,” Shane murmured, flashing her a warning look. “I’m sixteen years old! I’m not a baby!”

“If I may, Shane?” Rudy interjected, turning to the boy’s mother. “What you’re proposing, Pam, is something akin to combat. The army recruits boys Shane’s age for such purposes. Boys who are quick and strong. They do not, as a rule, recruit 35-year-old women, however admirable their courage or nursing skills.”

“Now just a minute,” Pam objected, two red spots flaring high on her cheeks.

“Oh come on, Mom” Shane said, cutting her off. “He’s right and you know it! I can drive there and back in fifteen minutes!”

Here, Rudy interrupted. “You may have been able to do that in the past, Shane, but it won’t be so easy now; not nearly so easy. The nearest pharmacy, as your mother pointed out, is the Walgreen’s on Hudson Street. That’s in a good-sized shopping center off a busy arterial. I doubt very much if you’ll be able to drive up and dash inside. The roads, once you get to the bottom of the hill, are likely to be filled with obstacles, completely impassable in places.”

“So I’ll take Dad’s mountain bike,” Shane countered. “I’ll go around them.”

Rudy considered this then shook his head. “A bicycle doesn’t offer any protection if you find yourself cornered,” he pointed out, referring indirectly to the infected dead. “A car wouldn’t offer much either, at least not against a dozen or more, but you’d be better off on foot than a bike; it’s not as fast, but it would give you more agility.”

“You’re not going!” Pam maintained, her stance and her jaw set against it.

“What about a motorcycle?” Shane proposed, ignoring her. “A dirt bike?”

Rudy nodded. “That would be ideal, but where would you find one?”

Shane grinned. “The Sturlings have one! I saw it in the back of their garage!”

“Have you ever driven a motorcycle?” Rudy asked, doubtful.

Shane’s smile faltered.

“No he hasn’t,” Pam cut in, seizing triumphantly on this fact. “He hasn’t even learned to drive a stick shift!”

“How hard can it be?” Shane argued. “I can practice right here in the street until I get the hang of it.”

Rudy shook his head. “The sound of the engine will carry. It might attract… others,” he said uncomfortably.

“I can drive a motorcycle,” a voice quietly volunteered.

The three of them turned to look at Larry.

33