Pathogen: Ch. 18

It didn't feel as if Marnie had been sleeping long when a light, persistent jiggle on her shoulder woke her up. With a sleepy grumble, she curled tighter to Julian's side, peeking open one bleary eye instinctively. Bianca was standing over her. The other girl looked as tired as Marnie felt, her expression calm and deeply apologetic. Marnie's face arranged itself in a grumpy grimace as she looked around their crappy little motel room. The place wasn't on fire; the feds and/or cops weren't banging on the door; Zombie Trevor was still sitting contentedly on the floor in front of the TV, watching Simpsons reruns and pigging out on beef jerky.

With no apparent reason for being awakened present, Marnie rolled onto her back with a groggy, "whu-uuut?"

"Sorry," Bianca murmured, "It's just... well, honestly, you're filthy. You should probably hit the shower before you nod off for good tonight."

Marnie was ready to argue, not that her case of "sleep good, shower bad," would have held much water, until she actually had a look at herself. She was covered nearly head to toe in Julian's blood. Marnie knew he'd lost a lot, but seeing it splattered all over her person seemed to make it more real. More terrifying. Besides the blood, another argument in favor of showering presented itself a second later when Marnie raised her arm to look at the rusty stains on her hands. Frankly, she reeked. In hindsight, she had done a lot of sweating that night, and apparently her off-brand, discount deodorant couldn't hold its own against The Funk.

Suddenly, showering didn't seem like such a bad idea.

With a reluctant sigh, Marnie untangled her limbs from Julian's sleeping body and got up, padding to the bathroom. She didn't get far, though, before Bianca stopped her again. This time, the shorter girl had something in her hand: a plain white, long-sleeved tee and a pair of cheap fleece leggings.

"I know, it's not much," she said, "...but my options at CVS were limited. At least these'll keep you warm until we find you something else to wear."

Marnie glanced down at herself again, and - of course - Bianca was right twice in a row. Her pencil skirt was beyond salvageable by this point, ripped so far up the side seam that it was barely hanging on at her hip. It also would be nice to have something to wear up top besides just her bloodstained bra. Nodding her thanks, she took the clothes Bianca offered silently and shuffled into the bathroom.

Hot water was apparently too much to ask for. Even with the tap cranked all the way up, the stream flowing from the showerhead was barely above body temperature. Marnie was in no position to complain, though; at least it was a little warm, and it still got the job done either way. Once Marnie was clean enough and modeling the best of CVS's fall collection, she headed back to bed.

Bianca was set up in the other bed by the time she got there, poring over a stack of files spread out all over the threadbare coverlet. As tired as she was, Marnie's curiosity got the better of her.

"What'cha doing?" she asked, picking up a file at random. Marnie barely had time to read "Project Lazarus: Top Secret" stamped across the front in huge, red block letters before Bianca plucked it out of her hand.

"Sleep now," Bianca ordered, "we'll debrief in the morning."

Marnie's jaw hit the floor, realizing all the files in front of Bianca were labeled the exact same way. "Where the hell did you get those?!" she blurted, "They can't be from-"

"...the base?" Bianca finished flatly, "Uh, yeah. Duh. Where'd you think they came from? Books-A-Million?"

"B-But that's... I... I-I don't understand," Marnie stammered, shaking she was so frustrated, "We failed! Th-the heist... it was a total shitshow! There's no way-!"

"Just because you came back with diddly squat doesn't mean he did," Bianca said stonily, her eyes softening as they settled on Julian. "His part of the mission was successful... until he went back for your sorry hide."

Marnie looked over at Julian, still sawing logs from sheer exhaustion and the cocktail of painkillers Bianca had fed him. Her throat tightened with a dry swallow as her eye was drawn to the bandages wrapped around his waist. Although they were still fresh, a few drops of crimson had soaked through the crisp white gauze already, reminding her of the grisly bullet wound beneath it.

"He... came back?" she murmured, "f-for me? Why? I-I don't..."

Her throat was so painfully tight, no more words could pass through it. Her eyes stung badly, causing Julian's sleeping face to warp and shimmer. Marnie clenched both her jaw and her fists, digging her nails into her palms until they nearly bled. Anything to keep back her tears. The pain and her concentration were both interrupted, though, when Bianca's hand landed on her shivering arm.

"It's late, okay?" Bianca said, her tone shockingly gentle, "Get some sleep while you can. These days, you never know when you'll get another chance."

Marnie was too exhausted, upset, and riddled with guilt to argue. She nodded, barely holding back a sniffle, then crawled back into bed with Julian. Her brain felt like it had been microwaved to mush, so a little sleep sounded too good to pass up. She was asleep again before she even realized it. The next thing she knew, a gust of hot air was hitting her in the face. It smelled so foul - like cured beef mixed with a rotting skunk carcass - that she woke up immediately.

The source of the incredibly stinky air wasn't hard to find. Zombie Trevor had snuggled up in bed with her sometime during the night, wedging his cold, lanky body in between Julian's and hers. It was a miracle she was still on the bed at all, as he'd nudged her right to the edge of the mattress. When he noticed she was awake, the zombie's filmy eyes lit up and his unnaturally pale face split in an awkward grin. Before she could say a word, his tongue lapped up her cheek from chin to hairline like a St. Bernard's.

"T-Trev... stop," Marnie grumbled, pushing his face away with a grimace, "Ugh... s-so gross... Okay, I'm awake already!"

"Good... 'bout time."

Marnie gasped at the soft, tired voice, because it hadn't come from Zombie Trevor. She sat up like a shot, thinking it was too good to be true. When Julian's warm, brown eyes stared back at her, though, Marnie all but broke down on the spot.

"J-Jules," she whispered, laughing to hide a sob, "holy shit! A-Are you okay?! How do you feel?"

"Like... I got shot," he said. A small laugh bubbled out of his throat, but it was engulfed by a deep groan within seconds. "You know... you drool in your sleep? A lot? I swear... it's all over me."

Marnie punched him in the shoulder, then rubbed the spot where she'd hit him apologetically. "Sh-Shut up," she sniffed, "You... Y-You asshole! Don't you ever... e-ever... s-scare me like that again!"

Julian reached a weary hand up, laying it on top of Marnie's with a tired, goofy grin. "What?" he scoffed, "Don't tell me... you were worried about little ol' me? Why, Pistol... I'm touched."

Marnie scowled down at her injured friend, nudging Zombie Trevor's curious face away from Julian's blood-soaked bandages, "Don't let it go to your head," she muttered, "Crap: y-you're bleeding again."

Zombie Trevor's interest in the bandages worried her, much more than she was willing to say out loud. Once glance across the room - to the empty jerky bag on the carpet - gave her plenty reason to be. It didn't take a genius to figure out the zombie was hungry. Based on the soft, incessant growls he was making and the feverish look in his eyes, he was hungrier than usual. Her undead classmate's eyes were so empty and feral, Marnie couldn't help but be reminded of the zombified cadet that attacked her on the base.

Would that eventually happen to Trevor? Was her mom right all along, about him being nothing but a bloodthirsty monster at his core?

The zombie's dull eyes turned to Marnie without warning, making her jump three inches off the bed. Instead of going for her throat like she half expected, his brows wrinkled up in the saddest, kicked puppy expression she'd ever seen. A low, desperate whine replaced his growls that same second as he hugged his stomach, melting Marnie's heart in an instant.

"H... Hun...gree," he garbled, "Mah-nee... get... food?"

As if on cue, the motel room's door swung open without warning. Bianca stepped through it a moment later, carrying a large, brown paper grocery bag. The instant he saw her, Zombie Trevor bounced off the bed and raced over to Bianca, shaking all over with excitement like a Jack Russel Terrier.

"Hey, Trevvie," Bianca greeted sweetly in a sing-song voice, giggling as the zombie kissed and licked all over her face. "I missed you, too! Down boy; sit, or else you won't get your breakfast."

As soon as Zombie Trevor squatted down on the empty bed, Bianca wiped her face on her sleeve with a wince. "Ew," she muttered, "I'm glad he's in a good mood, but... blecch. Maybe I should've picked up an extra toothbrush while I was out."

She wasted no time fishing a package of Snausages out of her bag as soon as she set it down, tossing it to her zombified boyfriend that same second. "It was all they had," she sighed, "we're gonna have to start getting creative if we want to keep feeding him. I'm open to any and all ideas that don't involve one of us getting eaten."

"Seconded," Julian groaned, raising his hand lazily then letting it flop onto his chest. "Speaking of food... please tell me there's some breakfast in those bags for us. Trev's not the only one starving here."

Bianca didn't answer him verbally. A moment later, though, she pulled a fast food breakfast sandwich out of the bag and threw it at him. His reflexes were so slow from nearly bleeding to death that Marnie had to catch it for him. Otherwise it would've hit him in the face. A second sandwich hit Marnie in the chest a few moments later.

"Eat up," Bianca ordered, grabbing a fresh roll of bandages and a clean pair of latex gloves from the pile of medical supplies on the nightstand, "When you're done, we'll compare notes. I want to know everything... especially about 'Project Lazarus'."