The Infinite Sea(49)
“Then go!” I shouted across the room at him. “All of you. Leave him with me, and we’ll follow you as soon as we can.”
Ben’s mouth, which had been hanging open, snapped closed. Sam was hovering near Ben’s leg, one tiny finger hooked into his big buddy’s belt loop. Something in my heart gave a little at the sight. Ben told me they called my little brother “Zombie’s dog” in camp, meaning ever faithfully by his side.
Dumbo was nodding. “Makes sense to me, Sarge.”
“We had a plan,” Ben said. His lips barely moved. “And we’re sticking to the plan. If Ringer isn’t back by this time tomorrow, we’re bugging out.” He glared at me. “All of us.” He jabbed his thumb at Poundcake and Dumbo. “They can carry your boyfriend, if he needs to be carried.”
Ben turned, bumped into the wall, pinballed off it, lurched through the door and into the hall.
Dumbo trailed after him. “Sarge, where’re you . . . ?”
“Bed, Dumbo, bed! I gotta lie down or I’m gonna fall down. Take the first watch. Nugget—Sam—whatever your name is—what are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Stay with your sister. Wait. You’re right. She’s got her hands full—literally. Poundcake! Sullivan has the duty. Get some shut-eye, you big mute mother . . .”
His voice faded away. Dumbo came back to the foot of Evan’s bed.
“Sarge is strung out,” he explained, like I needed him to explain. “He’s usually pretty chill.”
“Me too,” I said. “I’m the laid-back type. No worries.”
He wouldn’t go away. He was looking at me and his cheeks were as bright red as his ears. “Is he really your boyfriend?”
“Who? No, Dumbo. He’s just a guy I met one day while he was trying to kill me.”
“Oh. Good.” He seemed relieved. “He’s like Vosch, you know.”
“He’s nothing like Vosch.”
“I mean he’s one of them.” Lowering his voice like he was sharing a dark secret. “Zombie says they’re not like these tiny bugs in our brains, but somehow they downloaded themselves into us like a computer virus or something.”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“That’s weird.”
“Well, I guess they could have downloaded themselves into house cats, but going that route would’ve made our extermination more time-consuming.”
“Only by a month or two,” Dumbo said, and I laughed. Like Sammy’s, mine surprised me. If you wanted to separate humans from their humanity, I thought, killing laughter would be a good place to start. I was never very good at history, but I was pretty sure douchebags like Hitler didn’t laugh very much.
“I still don’t get it,” he went on. “Why one of them would be on our side.”
“I’m not sure he completely understands the answer to that question.”
Dumbo nodded, squared his shoulders, took a deep breath. He was dead on his feet. We all were. I called softly to him before he stepped outside.
“Dumbo.” Ben’s question, unanswered. “Is he going to make it?”
He didn’t say anything for a long time. “If I were an alien and I could pick any body I wanted,” he said slowly, “I’d pick a really strong one. And then, just to make sure I’d live through the war, I’d like, I don’t know, make myself immune to every virus and bacteria on Earth. Or at least resistant. You know, like getting your dog vaccinated for rabies.”