As though I’ve conjured her with my thoughts, the door bangs open and Dr. Summers rushes in. She peels off a scarf, wrapped three times around her neck, a jacket and a sweater before plopping down into Tabitha’s vacant chair. I laugh at the amount of clothing she’s wearing. It’s the middle of summer and she’s acting like it’s about to snow. Having spent my early years in the north, I know what true cold feels like.
She turns excitedly to me and says, “I think we’re on the verge of a breakthrough in the lab. It’s been so valuable being able to observe live Primitive subjects. And my new assistant is a complete godsend. He listens to everything I say without challenging me. He may not have a strong background in medicine, but he’s making up for it with hard work and persistence.”
I take another sip of my drink and nod my approval. “What kind of breakthrough?”
She glances around, sees the wine bottle and snatches it up. Anita slides a glass over to her and Dr. Summers pours herself a drink. She takes a long sip and daintily wipes her mouth with the edge of her scarf. She turns to me, a grin playing around her lips. “We’ve managed to isolate the antibody that causes Necrotitis Primeval and have reengineered the current vaccine to be more stable, so it won’t react quite as harshly when introduced to Primitive physiology. This might actually work as a viable treatment.”
I stare at her, completely at sea with her explanation. “Uh huh.”
She laughs and turns her body so she’s facing me directly as she speaks. “Based on the results of what happened to your sister’s friend when she was given blood that was immune to the virus, we know that it is possible to reverse the effects of Necrotitis Primeval. The main problem is that the reversal is extremely hard on the subject’s body, which ultimately leads to massive organ failure and death. So, what we’ve done is take the antibody found in your blood and make a diluted version of the vaccine and bolster it with a few other components. We’re hoping if we give several small doses, rather than one large dose, the Primitive’s body will be able to recover over time.”
"You are so smart," Dolly says in awe. "Like mind-blowingly smart."
Dr. Summers smiles at Dolly and shakes her head. "I’m a good doctor, but I could never do the things that you do with technology. It seems like magic to me when you take an old computer system and bring it back to life."
Before Dr. Summers can continue, Hannah interrupts, "Will you be able to cure Silas?"
A heavy silence falls on the room, and even Tabitha doesn’t say anything as she walks back in with a bowl filled with freshly baked potato chips.
Dr. Summers’s gaze turns sympathetic. "What we’re creating isn’t exactly a cure in the purest sense of the word. It’s extremely rare to actually cure a viral infection. Even the common cold doesn’t have a cure and scientists have been trying to get rid of it for centuries. By introducing the antibody, created with Skye’s blood, we’re essentially boosting the white blood cells’ ability to fight back. Attempting to send the virus into retreat."
"But what will this mean for Silas?" Hannah persists. "Will he ever be human again?"
We all look at Hannah, at the desperation written on her face. We all feel the same. Maybe not for Silas, but every person in the room has lost a loved one to the virus. If we can have even a glimmer of hope toward bringing them back, we’ll cling to it with both hands.
Dr. Summers speaks as gently as possible as she tries to give Hannah the most realistic answer. "The truth is, I don’t know. We’re making Silas as comfortable as possible, given the circumstances. We’ll experiment on the other two Primitives, tweak the treatment until it’s perfect, then we’ll treat the former Warlord. Even if he survives the transition, we won’t know what we’ll be facing. Will he still have a neuroblastoma? Maybe, but we don’t know. If he still has a tumor, will it be treatable? Again, maybe, but we don’t know. At the moment there just isn’t enough information to give you the answers you need. Then we have to think of the psychological and behavioral impact of Turning and then spending a year as a Primitive. It’s highly unlikely he’ll be the same man, even if we can turn him back."
I silently praise Dr. Summers for her compassion. She’s doing the best she can with the information she has, and she wants to celebrate the victories and successes she’s achieving. But she understands how much this information means to the wives of our former Warlord. When Hannah opens her mouth again, I cut her off.
"Thank you for explaining everything to us, Dr. Summers. We’re very grateful for the research you’re conducting." I reach out to squeeze her arm and Dr. Summers smiles at me gratefully. "What we really want to know though, is how do you go about making a zombie comfortable? I’m picturing couches, game boards and zombie socials."
Everyone laughs, including Hannah, and some of the tension eases. Tabitha sets the snack down on the table and plops herself into her chair. "Who’s dealing?" She looks around at all the women as she attempts to get the poker game back on track. Her gaze lands on the doctor. "You in, Doc?"
I push my chair away from the table. "She can take my place. I need to get back to the palace."
They tease me on my way out, but they’re gentle. None of them are willing to step over the line with the Warlord’s woman. I don’t blame them. Even I’m wondering where the line is with Wolfe. Have I crossed it already? Should I keep pushing or should I settle down and accept my time with him. One year ago, I would have fought him tooth and nail. Now… now… I want to fight just for the stimulation of it. I want to prod and push him. The see where his edge is. See what he’ll do when I shove him right over.
It hits me that if I’m willing to tease the Warlord, to poke at his eternal control as I find my place in his life, then I’m comfortable with him. I feel secure under his care. I don’t believe he’ll ever hurt me.
I step out of the house and draw in a deep breath of air, savouring the scent of the cool evening with a hint of rain that has yet to fall. I look around for my bodyguards, but instead of Kingston and Denny, Wolfe steps out of the shadows.
Thirty-Four
I gape at him for a moment and then a silly grin spreads across my face. I can’t help myself. I’m genuinely happy to see him. He stiffens as he watches me. I’m not surprised at his reaction. I almost never smile, certainly not at him. Yet, I feel good and I want to share that feeling.
"Are you here to walk me back to the palace?" I ask, my voice husky.
He shakes his head, but reaches for my arm, pulling me to his side. "I have something to show you."
I’m feeling good enough that I don’t question him as he escorts me to his vehicle, holding the door open. I’m wearing my long leather skirt with a white shirt and leather vest. As always, I’m armed to the teeth.
Wolfe drives straight for the city limits and is waved through the massive gates. I finally ask the burning question, "Where’re we going, Warlord?"
Without looking at me he replies, "Not far."
He drives the dirt road around the city, toward the mountains. I gape in awe as we reach the base of the Santa Fe mountain range, currently lit up to a beautiful orange and red glow from the dying sun behind us. I turn to look at Wolfe, watching his profile as we drive straight into the mountains, following the bumpy broken road that's been here since before the Great Fall.