After the Cure

“Hey, I wouldn’t do that if I were you—” began a young soldier next to her, but suddenly, he stopped. One of the Infected, a man, began to stand, rising from the crushed whorl of long grasses. Sevita pushed in next to Nella and began filming. “Hold still!” shouted the young soldier. The Infected man held his hands up. His nails were long and jagged, and his hands and cheeks were black and scaly with old blood. He was shaking.

“Identify yourself!” yelled the soldier, and Nella felt him tighten like a guitar string stretched too far.

“Isaac- my name’s Isaac Green.” His voice was more robust and more transparent than Nella had expected. The man caught sight of the blood on his arms and brought them in front of his face. He was shaking more now.

“Mr. Green,” Nella broke in, “Isaac. Listen to me, you’ve been ill for a long time, but it will be okay now.” She took a few steps toward him and the still slumbering mass of Infected behind him.

“Don’t-” the soldier said, but Nella kept walking. Sevita followed her, camera focused on Mr. Green.

“Ill?” said Mr. Green, “Was it all a dream? Was I just delirious?” He held his hands out in front of him as if he would drop them from his body if he could. He turned around slowly, his eyes widening at the sight of hundreds of people lying motionless on the field. He turned back and sought Nella’s face. “Where is my family? I need to find them. In my dream, I- I did terrible things- I need to find my wife-” Mr. Green began to weep, his face cracking into a deep grimace.

“It’s okay, Mr. Green,” said Nella, “We’ll help you find your family just as soon as we can. If you come with me, we’ll have a physician check you over, and then we can add your name to the Found List-” she reached him and suppressing a shudder, placed a warm hand on his back. The rag that had once been his shirt was stiff and rough like sandpaper, caked with blood and dirt. He turned suddenly toward her, and she jumped slightly. The soldier called, “Steady there!” she watched the entire line of military personnel clench their weapons tighter. Nella held up her hand. “It’s okay,” she said.

But Mr. Green was staring at her. “What do you mean the ‘Found List’?”

Nella’s response was slow and deliberate, “Mr. Green, there have been some changes in the world while you have been ill . . .” She got no further.

“Oh my God!” screamed Mr Green, “Oh my God! It was all real! It was all real! I killed them, I killed my babies- my neighbours, it wasn’t a dream? Tell me it was a dream!” he grabbed her arm, but weakly. He was crying so hard that she had to help him stand for a moment.

“It’s over now,” she said helplessly, “It’s going to be okay for everyone now.” But even as she said it, she knew it was a blatant lie and blushed with shame. Mr Green dropped her arm.