After the Cure by Deirdre Gould (year 7 reading list .txt) 📕

was going back to the lab to destroy it. That they hadn't been able to reach the lab before then because of all the Infected in the way.”

“Then who?” asked Sevita, “Looters wouldn't have bothered with a biohazard vault. Even stupid ones. And why would they leave highly valuable drugs and equipment lying around? It doesn't make any sense.”

“No, it doesn't. I've got a bad feeling about this. I think I'm going to have to get to the lab as soon as possible to see for myself. I'll have to go after court on Monday- I'll give my findings on the mental state of the defendants and I'll leave immediately-”

“Woah, hang on Nella. I think we should talk about this. You can't go alone.”

“We can't tell anyone else about this Sevita, and you and Frank have to be in court for every session, otherwise everyone will know something is wrong. I'm the only one that can go.”

“What does Frank say about all this?”

“It doesn't matter, the facts are the same.”

“Bullshit. Put him on the phone, I want to talk to him.”

“He's not here.”

“Oh Nella, you didn't blow it with him did you? I'll never forgive you if you did. He's a far more decent person than you've ever been with since I've known you.”

“Sevita, be rational. How could a defense attorney be caught dating the supposedly neutral psychiatric counsel?”

“I don't think the world cares about that stuff anymore. In case you didn't notice, we've run out of lives as a species. If that's what's holding you back Nella- just don't be an idiot. Call me when he gets there.”

Sevita hung up and Nella sighed and walked into the bathroom. She had just finished dressing and was sitting on the edge of the bed lost in thought when Frank returned. She was concentrating in the quiet, trying to puzzle out what was eating away the corners of her conscious thought. It was something to do with Dr. Pazzo, something about his videos.

She was so absorbed in the memory, she didn't hear Frank come in until he knocked on the open bedroom door. She started and then brightened to see him leaning against the frame.

“Are you okay?” he said.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in.” She blushed as if he'd somehow seen more of her than she had intended simply by catching her daydreaming. He hadn't touched her, hadn't even returned her kiss. Nella felt exposed and awkward and not exactly sure what he wanted from her.

“Do you need help with the groceries?” She asked so she'd have a reason to divert his attention from her. She stood to go into the kitchen, but he didn't move, his tall figure still blocking the doorway.

“No,” he said, “It's all fine where it is.”

Nella nodded and felt her face warm. She stood there, awkwardly, as he stared at her, unmoving. All of her adult life she had been still and waited for her patients to begin speaking. She never felt the need to interrupt or prod or fill the silence. Now it was unbearable. He's changed his mind, she thought, He's decided I'm not what he wanted after all. And her interior gravity shifted again, this time crushing her ribs inward. She focused on remaining calm, trying not to let her shrinking lungs make her breath ragged.

Frank was still just watching her. “I'm sorry about last night,” he finally said in a calm voice, “I shouldn't have done that to you. It wasn't right.”

Nella felt tears spill from her before she could stop them and her voice was stricken even to her own ears. “You didn't mean it then? You aren’t staying?” she asked, convinced that he had decided she was a mistake.

Frank looked as if he'd been slapped. But it was only for a second. He moved so quickly that Nella flinched and threw up a hand to protect herself. Then his arm was threaded around her waist and he was brushing her cheek dry with his other hand. And he kissed her. He kissed her as if he were drawing his breath directly from her lungs. The scar on his shoulder pushed through his shirt and into Nella's hand, a warm, thick starburst. She wished it would burn itself into her hand, a jagged brand that she could hold even if he left. He lifted her feet from the floor and she felt the soft give of the bed behind her. She pushed him, just an inch, and tried to catch her breath.

“Don't cry. Don't cry. I meant it.” Frank was whispering so quickly that she wondered if he'd already been saying it when they had kissed. He blew the words gently over her eyes, her brow, her cheek, evaporating her doubt with his warm, living breath.

Nella brushed her fingers over the back of his head, feeling the rapid heartbeat in his skin and the sudden goosebumps her fingers made, like ripples in a pond. The perfect, fragile bone of his skull pressed against the thin bandage on her palm.

“I meant it. I meant it,” he whispered into her neck. She twisted the fabric of his shirt in her hand and gently turned his face toward her. She stopped his mouth with her own.

His hands that hadn't been lawyer's hands in a long time, warm and weathered like driftwood, scraped lightly on her skin as her shirt bunched underneath her and left a corner of her hip exposed. She gasped, startled as he slid his hand farther up onto her stomach and sent echoes of heat bouncing against all the places he hadn't touched yet.

The phone was as sharp as breaking glass and Nella stiffened with the first ring. She hissed a swear and tried to slide away from Frank. He laughed. “No way,” he said, pulling her in. She realized she hadn't told him about Sevita's call. The ring came again.

“Frank, I have to-”

“Why?” he mumbled, his lips already brushing her neck, “It's not the judge, not on Saturday.”

“No, it's Sevita,” she sighed and gently tried to push him off. He pulled back and looked at her, his face still half laughing but a little hurt too.

“You don't have to answer it, you can call her back.”

“No, I'm not going to answer it, but I have to tell you something.”

He rolled onto his side next to her and propped his head on his arm. “This is like every dream I've had since I met you,” he sighed, but the sting had gone from his smile. She half sat up and leaned over him.

“I promise it's important. And I promise I'll still be right here afterwards.”

 

 

The Plan

Nella didn't get very far in explaining the break in at Dr. Carton's lab before Sevita knocked on her door.

“Thank God,” she said, when Nella answered the door, “I was afraid you'd panicked and left without me. Have you told Frank yet?”

“I was just doing that,” Nella replied, “But maybe you'd better finish, you can answer his questions better than I can.”

Nella tuned most of what Sevita said out, having heard it before. Something about the whole mess seemed off, almost predictable, like a trap. What Nella couldn't decide was who the trap was for. To know that, she thought, she'd have to know who set it in the first place. She had to find Dr. Schneider and she had to do it without filling the trap.

There were people that would want Sevita silenced, that was easy to see. The reporter practically ran the news channel, and was given free rein to air the stories when and how she wanted. She was dangerous and powerful.

Frank was the only defender and voice of the man most people blamed for the Plague. Dr. Pazzo was the supreme architect behind the annihilation of the human race, according to popular opinion. And Frank was trying to keep him safe from the people's vengeance. Even the man representing the co-defendant had publicly humiliated him. Nella shivered, wondering how he managed to get home every night without being shot. Then she remembered that the trial hadn't even started yet and most of the population didn't know who he was. Yes, there were people that would like Frank out of the way.

That left herself. As far as she knew, she hadn't made any personal enemies- at least, not ones that would really want her gone. Most of the public didn't know who she was, wouldn't know who she was even after the trial. And the occasional person that did, wouldn't have cared. She was just the court appointed psychiatrist. No more partial or important than the bailiff or stenographer. She was just part of the machinery. And not even working machinery. She was a prop to make the court look as if it ran with some degree of fairness and impartiality. She was a tiny part of the fairy tale that the world told itself while sharpening its knives. No one would miss her if she was suddenly not a part of it anymore. So it had to be her that went. She had to spring the trap before Frank or Sevita could. She decided this while they were still talking, still trying to devise a plan.

“Look,” she said, breaking in, “I'm the only one that can go. It's no use arguing, we all know that I have to be the one. If you can figure out how to cover that distance between one court session and the next without alerting anyone, you let me know. Until then, you're just going to have to accept that I'm the one that has to do this.”

“No way,” said Sevita, “the area is still crawling with Infected. And Looters. None of us should go alone.”

“It's time to call the military government Nella. We can't do this by ourselves anymore,” said Frank.

“No,” said Nella, “we can't tell anyone until we're sure this thing has been destroyed. What if the military government wanted to keep it as a weapon? Or some hot shot who didn't know how to handle it correctly found out about it and went after it without informing his superiors? Or just some greedy Looter who wanted to cash in by holding the world hostage? The more people that know about this, the closer we are to the disease being released.”

“We can't do anything until after court on Monday, regardless of what we decide. We all have to be there for the first session. We'll just have to think of an alternate plan before then.” Sevita looked at Frank with some significance. Nella was too distracted to pay much attention. Frank smiled and squeezed Nella's knee.

“We said we weren't going to discuss it until then,” he said, “I think that's a good plan.”

“Okay,” said Sevita, standing up from her seat, “I'm just glad you didn't take off without telling me.”

Nella didn't promise anything, though she knew that's what both Sevita and Frank wanted.

“It's not that I