Chapter Eighteen
Risk
The three men all stared at her in disbelief, their mouths hanging open and their eyes narrowed. Maggie had left Glenn's side and had come forward, unsure as to whether she had heard Anna correctly. She had been listening in to their conversation and she was sure the young woman had said what she thought she had said, although as the woman's words replayed through her mind, they soon became fuzzy and uncertain.
"The cure?" Maggie's Southern drawl caught Anna's attention and the woman glanced at her. Maggie took a moment to take in her appearance; she looked to be the same age as her, with her brownish hair was matted and fell just past her shoulder limply. She was shorter than Maggie, but only just, and her body lean. A layer of dirt and blood covered her skin, but her eyes startled her. The intense stare was something that a lot of people, before the outbreak, had made comments about. Her eyes reminded them of a wolf, the piercing and penetrating stare, and would often unsettle those around her.
"Yes," Anna replied, softly.
"Bullshit!" Daryl retorted. "If ya had the cure, ya wouldn't be telling us!"
"If you didn't have a man dying, I wouldn't be telling you," Anna said. "But he is dying and I'm telling you."
"Why?" Maggie asked. "Why are you telling us?"
"What I'm trying to say is…" Anna said, picking her words carefully. "He doesn't have to die."
The four of them all exchanged glances. Maggie glanced behind her at Glenn lying on the bed, his body still and breathing much shallower than it had been. Hershel sensed his daughters building emotion and rested a hand on her shoulder, supportively. Anna glanced at the loving father and daughter moment and quickly turned away.
"And it works?" Maggie asked, her voice heavy with emotion.
Anna swallowed the lump in her throat, and took a moment to answer. "…Yes."
"Again, bullshit. Ya hesitated," Daryl seethed. "It don't work. She's lyin'."
"Let's hear her out before we jump to conclusions," Hershel said curtly.
"She's gettin' ya hopes up," Daryl said before he fell quiet.
Anna took the journal from Rick, and started scanning through it. Diagrams and writing filled the majority of the pages and it took a moment for Anna to reach the page she needed.
"This is classified," Anna began. "No one should have access to this apart from myself."
She reached her hand out to Hershel, and he took the journal without ushering a word.
"It should have all the information you're looking for," Anna said. She watched him read the information etched into the page, his eyes rereading the words she had written over and over trying to understand it.
"What happened to Test Subject Three?" Hershel inquired.
"Test Subject Three had disclosed to me that she had no bites to her body or ingested blood. Except… she had failed to disclose to me that she had in fact been scratched. The experiment failed and… she turned."
Four pairs of eyes stared at her, as if urging for her to continue. She ran a hand through her matted hair.
"The vials of blood contain plasma, which treat certain conditions. By extracting the plasma from healthy and unhealthy participants, we were able to create a new type of blood," Anna sighed. "We manipulated it further by exposing it to certain proteins, which 'cure' people of certain disorders and illnesses. When you give blood, we're able to extract and isolate vital ingredients in your plasma, which are then used as treatments that could save the lives of many people suffering from burns, shock, trauma."
"But?" Hershel urged her.
"There's only one problem," Anna replied.
"And what's that?" Rick asked.
"It's only ever worked on one person before."
"Who?" Daryl asked.
"There's too much at stake," Anna began. "I shouldn't have told you."
"Wait," Hershel said. "Tell us."
Anna took a deep breath. "The patient – in your case, Glenn – has to be moments from death."
"What?" Maggie asked, her voice tight with shock.
"It's risky," Anna whispered. "We can either be too early or too late."
"Please, explain…" Maggie urged. "Please."
"Your body is trying to survive and the heart is trying its best to keep fighting. In Glenn's case, he's fighting against his own body. I've seen it many times before. With Glenn… his body has already gone into shock, which means that he has a thirty percent chance of coming out of this alive. Breathing, but his brain may have been starved of oxygen. He's dying," Anna answered. "He could die tonight, tomorrow, in a weeks' time. But he's not going to pull through."
"And?" Daryl urged, impatiently.
"If I were to do it, it would have to be times right to the second."
"But?" Rick asked. He knew all too well that with silver linings like the one he was being told about, came consequences.
"It has to be done when he's taking his last breath," Anna said, moving towards the bed. She watched the foursome as the information soaked in, sadness overwhelming them. They all glanced towards Glenn, their eyes falling on his weak body. She was right and they knew it.
"What?" Maggie cried.
"When the body is moments from death, it, in a way, resets itself. The red and white blood cells are on the lookout for a threat, and when they find none, the brain sends a signal to the heart telling it to stop beating. That moment… is the best time to do it. By expelling the plasma into the bloodstream, it sends the red and white blood cells straight to it and they will begin to fight it. However…" Anna explained. "The modified plasma is too powerful for them. It will attach itself to them and he will go into shock. Shock is good, and we need that to happen. It means that his body is fighting back."
"And then?" Maggie pushed.
"We wait for him to wake up."
"You say that it's worked before," Hershel thought back. He watched as she took a moment to compose herself. She nodded. "Who?"
"Do it," Maggie interrupted. "You have to."
"Are ya out of ya mind?" Daryl interjected angrily. "We don't know the girl!"
"Daryl… I know he's going to die. I know that I'm never going to be able to hold him again, hear his voice…" Maggie said, tears falling from her eyes. "He's weak. His breathing is shallow. We have no other choice!"
"Rick?" Daryl turned to the leader who was watching Anna.
"We have no other choice," Rick agreed with Maggie. "Answer Hershel's question."
Anna retrieved the journal from Hershel. Her fingers skimmed through the pages, her eyes fixed on the dates scrawled at the top of the page. Her eyes fell on the date she needed, and then opened the journal further. She passed it back to Hershel.
His eyes skimmed the page, until he saw what he needed to see. He had been sure of it, but when she had skipped past his question, he was uncertain. But the truth was staring back at him. Hershel glanced at Anna and nodded. He passed it to Rick and pointed towards the extract that adorned different handwriting to that of Anna.
'Test Subject Nineteen was taken ill in the early hours of this morning. The patient had no visible bite marks, scratches and had not ingested infected blood. It is unknown as to how the patient became ill.
We have attached an IV to her, in an attempt to cleanse her body, but unfortunately the patient's illness is worsening and her condition is deteriorating. We do not know what to do other than sit, wait and watch as nature takes its course.
Test Subject Nineteen is a young woman, aged twenty-six. She has scar tissue that adorns her abdomen, back, arms and thighs, all of which were established at least fifteen years ago. We know that it is not a cause.
Test Subject Nin-
It is Anna Carlisle. A Biomedical Scientist for the US Army.
She is one of us.
It doesn't look good.'
