Chapter 44
Remy
The Empath was still there when I woke. She sat on the cot across from me, hands flat on her lap, staring ahead with a blank intensity. Maybe watching, maybe waiting, maybe not seeing me at all.
Benedict was gone, so it was only the two of us in the locked room.
“Am I dying?” I asked, since that might explain why she hadn’t left me when the Sentry had.
“Not as far as I know. But I’m glad you’re awake.” She got up and walked over, then sat down on the cot beside me. “How are you feeling?”
“Great, except for the phantom ache where my dead toes used to be,” I said, and I was only slightly exaggerating. Beyond the throbbing pain in my foot, I was mostly tired and sore.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Alphie asked.
“Do you have any serious pain relievers you want to throw my way?” I asked. “Literally any analgesic or an opioid would be especially appreciated.”
She shook her head. “No, we don’t have anything like that here.”
“Figures,” I grumbled. “I guess expecting painkillers from someone who swears by mangoes and miracles was a stretch. Especially these days.”
“You knew of Nell before?” Alphie asked, intrigued. “Before the disease ravaged the world?”
“If you’re talking about before the zombies, sure, yeah, I was aware of her back then,” I said.
“My mom was into fitness. She loved running, marathons, that kinda thing. And Nell had a few good workout courses, apparently. But as for the rest of her alleged ‘teachings.’” I snorted, remembering the way my mom had referred to her as a holistic hustler.
“So, you didn’t follow her then?”
I looked up at Alphie, studying her dark eyes to see what she was getting at. But all I could find was compassion and curiosity. Maybe the title of Empath wasn’t pulled entirely from thin air.
“No, I didn’t follow her,” I finally answered.
“So who do you follow then?”
“Nobody. I mostly just run from things.”
“And that’s how you want to live?” Alphie pressed.
“It’s not a matter of want so much as I don’t know any other way to survive,” I admitted wearily. “Why are you still here?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she replied.
I smirked up at her. “I’m dandy. Can’t you tell?”
“I also … I wanted to ask you about something Benedict said,” she said, sounding almost cautious. “When you were unconscious, he told me that you had a cougar with you when you arrived.”
“Lion,” I corrected her.
Both her eyebrows raised excitedly. “What was that?”
“A lioness, technically,” I amended. “And yeah, she’s mine. Sorta. No one really owns her. But we travel through life together.”
“That is a very romantic way to describe your relationship with a cat,” she remarked.
“Well, you haven’t been friends with a lion.”
“I haven’t, but I do imagine it is something special,” she said. “Is there some way we can help her?”
“If Ripley needs help, she’ll go back to the boat,” I said, because that was what made the most sense. If I didn’t come back, she would return to the only other family she had. Boden and Stella on the Barbarabelle.
“What boat?” Alphie asked, her interest clearly piqued, and I realized I’d accidentally said too much. Losing two toes had really fucked with my head.
“It doesn’t matter. Why are you asking all these questions?” I deflected. “Why do you even care?”
“People aren’t usually curious about the fact that you have a pet lion?” Alphie asked me with a smirk.
“Fair point,” I said, because I couldn’t argue it.
I readjusted myself a little, because there was something digging into my back. I slid my hand underneath me and pulled out my copy of The Book of Mercy. When the Empath had first come in the room, I’d hidden it behind myself, and apparently I passed out on top of it.
“What is that?” Alphie asked.
“It’s just some book.” I tried to brush it off, but she reached over me and picked it up.
“This is about the Loths?” Alphie asked in surprise as she flipped through it. “I’ve heard stories about them and the way they abused and exploited zombies.”
“I’ve never been a big fan of zombies, but I’m not gonna disagree with you about that point,” I said. “Mercy Loth and her family sound like some deranged folks.”
“If you’d don’t like them or admire them, why are you carrying this book with you?” Alphie asked.
“There’s some information in there that’s relevant to me,” I explained as vaguely as I could. I never liked divulging anything, but I really wanted to make it clear that I had nothing to do with the practices at the Loth Family Ranch. “I’m trying to get to the Cold Shore outpost in Glacier Valley.”
“What do you want with Cold Shore?” she asked.
“What does anybody want with anything these days?” I retorted. “I want to find a way to survive the end of the world.”
“That is something I think about a lot myself. If I’m being honest…” Alphie turned timid, her hands fiddling in her lap, and she stared down at the floor. “There is something else you said that had me more curious than your exotic pets or your taboo reading.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you were unconscious, you kept mumbling strange things,” she explained, almost ashamed at having overheard me. “You said that you knew of the One Who Commands Two Hearts.”
“That sounds like some real fever dream panic attack shit,” I said, immediately dismissing her. I closed my eyes, just in case she could see any recognition in them.
“People have always had crazy ideas about prophecies, especially charismatic cult leaders,” I went on.
“I survived three ‘end of days’ predictions before the virus broke out. Which also goes to show you that if you say enough looney shit, eventually some of it might turn out to be true. You know the old saying a broken clock is right twice a day?”
She was quiet for a moment, long enough that I considered opening my eyes to see what she was doing.
But finally, Alphie said, “When I was a little girl and my mother brought me here to the walls of Fort Lately, Nell promised that she would find a way to reunite us. All humans, both infected and uninfected, the rich and the poor, the powerful and the powerless. All would be well again. I believed that then, and I still need to believe that now.”
“You don’t need to believe in anything,” I corrected her. “You only want to. You need oxygen and food and sleep. A belief in something better is just a fantasy, a wishful dream. All we really have is what we do ourselves, and how long we can survive with what we’ve done.”
Alphie’s gaze flickered up from her hands, meeting mine with a quiet intensity.
“I’m going to leave now,” she announced as she got to her feet, but her voice sounded odd. Sort of flat and… scripted. “If I have forgotten my basket here with my supplies, that would be such a shame.”