“Still can’t reach anyone at the camp. No one.”

Keel turned. I saw it in his eyes. If he could have shot the crewman, he would have. Guessing the fact that they couldn’t reach anyone at the camp was meant to be a secret.

“Try again,” Keel said.

“Have been. Nothing. I mean nothing. Static.”

“Storm might have knocked out the repeaters.” Captain Keel said, the smile back. Our, ever-smiling and optimistic leader, attempted reassuring everyone with a look. Don’t think it fooled a single one of us. Didn’t fool me. I’d caught a glimpse of Keel. An uncensored glance into who this man was.

“Excuse me, what?” It was Sergeant Landon Vitale. “You can’t reach anyone at the camp?”

The crewman looked at Keel, as if for permission to answer. “That’s right, sir.”

“But you said ‘still.’ Makes me think this isn’t something you’re just learning,” Vitale said. “What happened to the nice hot meal, and them keeping the kitchen open? That they were expecting us?”

“Please, downstairs everyone, so Lieutenant Erway can help her patient.” Keel waved hands back and forth. It looked like he thought he could dismiss us, make us vanish with a wave of those liver-spotted hands. “This patient is sick.”

“When was he bitten?” Erway said.

I thought she’d been talking to me. I opened my mouth, but then closed it.

Chatterton was kneeling beside Dentino. “I don’t know. A day ago. Two. Wasn’t much of a bite. Teeth barely broke the skin.”

“But the skin had been broken,” Erway said. Didn’t sound like a question.

Chatterton looked up at me. I had my kids behind me. Dave by my side. Was he somehow blaming me for this? It’s what his eyes said. That would be ludicrous. Might just be pure resentment in his stare. Again, ludicrous, but it was there. I wasn’t imagining it. Unless…unless it was shame. Anger and shame.

“Yes,” he said. “The skin was broken. We cleaned it real good. Poured stuff on it to kill germs. That clear stuff? I forget what it is called.”

“Hydrogen Peroxide?” Erway used a pen light and flashed it into Dentino’s eyes.

“That’s right. It bubbled, turned white, so we figured we’d cleaned it good. Then we bandaged it. Didn’t take more than a couple of Band-Aids, and we wrapped it in gauze, too.”

Dentino foamed at the mouth and his back bucked. His arms went out wide, palms against the deck, fingers spiked like spider legs. He shook, as if having a seizure.

It was in a million horror movies. The change.

“Sergeant,” Erway said.

There was a lot of confusion. Soldiers moving about. Some yelling. I couldn’t follow everything happening.

“Captain, how long have you been out of radio contact with the camp?” Sergeant Vitale said.

“Not now, Sergeant,” Keel said.

Erway looked up from her patient. “Sergeant, I need your soldiers. Now.”

Vitale stared at the Captain, but motioned at his men. They trained weapons on Dentino. The guy wasn’t going anywhere. That’s clearly what Erway wanted. She must not trust Dentino’s condition. Must feel threatened by him.

If he changed into a zombie, he was as good as dead, again, anyway. Spade leveled his sidearm, finger on the trigger, one eye closed, arms extended. Yes, Dentino was as good as dead.

I kept going back to Jay. Would he have turned if we hadn’t of buried him? Had he turned and come back as a zombie, but was now buried in a shallow grave with no way out? Looking at Dentino, foaming, seizing, I think Jay’s death played out better. I don’t know what I would have done had he changed.

“I want the civilians down below,” Captain Keel said. “The military has this. They are going to handle it. They don’t need an audience.”

Handle this? An audience for what?

“You’re not killing him,” Chatterton said. “He’s sick. You can see it. He’s just sick. He’s not; he isn’t one of those things. He didn’t die. He’s not dead. Zombies…they were once human, died and then return from the dead. That hasn’t happened here.”

“This isn’t a movie,” Erway said. “Those are rules created by Hollywood.”

“He just needs help. Doctor, you have to help him,” Chatterton said. He held his hands clasped together in front of him.

Erway shook her head. “I’m not a doctor. You dressed the wound, but it still got infected. I don’t know what more we can do for him.”

Dentino groaned, sounding like he was in pain. Figured his body was in the midst of a transformation. His blood, organs, muscles, and tissue attempted to fight off whatever disease had been transmitted.

“Captain,” a crewman said. “We’re about to dock. I don’t see anyone. No one.”

I looked to the side of the ship. The coast we’d been following widened. There were at least twenty boating slips. This vessel was too big to fit into any of them except the one on the end.

The land itself was covered in fog. The cold and warm air, the storm, all perfect make-up for fog. Thick, it didn’t move. It just sat there, like a natural layer on green grass, and formed leafless trees. The light poles along the shore by the docks cast an iridescent glow over everything.

Everything happening screamed B-Horror film. Zombies and fog, and Dentino about to go from the living to the undead. I mean, what the fuck? Erway might have tried to distance this reality from Hollywood, but I wasn’t buying it.

“I need you to move away from him,” Erway said.

Chatterton’s hand shot out. He took a fistful of Erway’s uniform at the shoulder.

Weapons cocked and the uniform clicking of them made me stare around at the military. I didn’t know if they were marines, army, or what. They wore nothing that gave that away. I never thought to ask. Didn’t matter then; still didn’t now.

“Release her,” Vitale said. “Now. Then, do as she said. Back away from the man.”

It didn’t look like Chatterton meant his reaction to be threatening, but was clearly taken that way. I didn’t see it as such, though. The guy would never do well playing poker. His every emotion was visible in his eyes. His feelings were displayed through them as if a neon sign.

“I just want you to try to help him,” he said.

“Release the Lieutenant. Do you hear me? I will not ask again.” Vitale did not take any steps closer. Wouldn’t need to. Six armed soldiers punctuated his threat.

Chatterton let go of Erway. His fingers rolled into a loose fist. Nothing angry about it. “Please, just see what you can do.”

I hadn’t realized it, but Dentino’s body relaxed at some point. He was flat on his back. His hands still gripped at nothing. His eyes were open. Not blinking.

It might be too late, I thought, too late to do anything more.

“Back away,” Erway said. She sounded heartless and cold. Agitated.

Chatterton went from kneeling to standing in one smooth motion and took two steps back. Spade holstered his gun, grabbed the black man by the arm, spun him around and walked him to the back of the vessel.

“Docking sir,” the crewman said.

The drama unfolding held everyone’s attention. I don’t think I’d noticed Cash’s hands gripping my leg, his fingers squeezing my skin beneath the material.

I didn’t know what to do. Sheltering him made the most sense. He was nine. Just nine. But I didn’t want to go below. I needed to see what happened. I needed, not to witness, but understand. What were we up against?

What were the rules?

But he was nine.

Once Chatterton was away, soldiers now in front of him, Erway lowered her head. She listened for breathing. Her ear was an inch or so from Dentino’s mouth.

I turned around. “You stay up here,” I said to Dave.

“I’m staying,” Charlene said.

I let her.

Allison and I took Cash down the stairs, back to the bunks.

“Is that man going to die? Is he going to become a zombie?” Cash said. “Are the soldiers good people, or bad?”

I had the same questions, and answers to none of them.