Chapter Eighteen: The Good News

A few minutes later, Diane stared through her grubby reflection in the safety glass into Tina's isolated hospital room. The nurse on duty, Lynne, had drawn blood from the port in her arm, and was dripping some onto slides, while Dr. Neumon marked on a paper chart. It was special treatment, for sure, but Tina was a special case. She was seven months pregnant.

There were four other pregnant women in the infirmary, but even among them, Tina was a cause for cautious optimism. Just over a year ago, pregnant women all over the world began miscarrying, and they were the lucky ones. The rest either died of complications, or reached term in two to three months, when their monstrously deformed offspring literally ate their way out of their wombs.

At seven months, Tina's ultrasound, another luxury, showed a seemingly normal, fully developed human boy, though at Tina's request, no one had been told the sex. She could give birth at any time, so the doctors and nurses stayed with her in shifts. The other pregnant women in their care were less fortunate.

To reach Tina's room, Diane had to pass through the infirmary, where the doomed mothers-to-be were strapped to gurneys. They were heavily sedated, and would stay that way until they were killed in unconscious agony by their children.

They were pale and nearly skeletal; their bodies unable to keep up with the demands of a fetus that would reach birth stage in weeks instead of months. The poor girls were already dead, and they had known it coming here. Some had only hours, while others would suffer for days or weeks, but the outcome was certain, and at least for now, inevitable.

The doctors monitored them, tested different drugs and therapies on them, and made them as comfortable as possible, but none of them would give birth. For all of the doctors' careful study and testing, Tina was the only one who had a chance, not only of survival, but of having a real human baby. She was not only the hope of the MPC, but perhaps of all mankind.

Diane liked the doctors and nurses, but Dr. Neumon was her favorite. He had a knack for looking at things from all angles, and then coming up with creative ways to care for his patients, all while treating them like friends or family. In a world where the delivery trucks would never come again, he was an invaluable asset.

Lynne saw Diane through the glass and smiled, walking around to talk with her.

"Good morning," Lynne said. "Tina's doing pretty well. We had some excitement a little while ago, but things are settling down. At least a bit."

"Excitement? What happened?" Diane could tell Lynne was still on edge about something, but at least she seemed pleased.

"The ghost was here. Tina saw her. I know what you think, but she wasn't the only one. Dr. Neumon and I saw her, too. She was black from head to toe, and small, like a young girl. But forget about that for now. Right after we saw her, Tina went into labor."

It was happening. They moment they had hung all of their hopes on was upon them. Diane started thinking through all their plans, and everything they would have to do in the coming hours. It took her a moment to ask the obvious questions.

"How is she? Are her levels good? What does Dr. Neumon think?"

"She seems fine. Don't be too worried, but her levels are through the roof. She's early, of course, but the baby is ready, and the increased nanite levels don't seem to be hurting either of them."

"Can I talk to her?" Diane asked. "What if I block before I go in? I'll only stay for a second and come right back out..."

"I'm sorry, Diane. You know you can't. I don't really understand all this about blocking and the things you exterminators can do, but no one with high levels can go in there. She's doing fine, and we're taking excellent care of her, so just quit your worrying."

Tina smiled and waved at them from her bed. She sipped from the water bottle Diane gave her, and raised it in a salute of thanks.

"See?" Lynne said. "She's fine. I know you have a lot more on your plate now than you did when you walked up here, so go do what you have to do. Someone will get word to you when... when we have some good news for you."

"Thanks, Lynne. I'm glad you're here. She really likes you, you know. Thank Dr. Neumon for me, too. Let everyone who knows about this that I'd like to keep it quiet for now, okay? I need to take care of some things before word gets out, and we don't want everyone crowding in here until we're ready for them, right?"

Lynne nodded and smiled again. "I'll tell the doctor."

Diane watched through the window for another minute, but it wasn't much of a show. Lynne sat next to Tina reading aloud from somewhere near the middle of Gone with the Wind.

"What are they doing now?" a man's voice asked.

She knew who it was even before she heard his overpowering Jersey accent. His name was Leonard McKinnis, and he continued training for the New York Marathon as though he still expected to run it. His squeaking sneakers and heavy breathing gave her plenty of warning, but she hoped he would jog on by. Instead, he ran in place while waiting for her to answer.

Tap-squeak tap-squeak tap-squeak. Everything about the man grated on her normally solid nerves.

"Same as they always do. Whatever it is, it's working, though. I don't ask and they don't tell. How's your time today?" She impressed herself by sounding perfectly pleasant and genuinely curious.

"Good. Real good. I sure wish I could hit the pavement, though. You know what I mean? I ain't been out there in weeks. It's like a prison in here." His loud laugh sounded funny as he alternated between panting for breath and chuckling at his own joke. "Hey, what if you..."

"Another time, Leonard. I have a ton of things to do this morning, and I'd like to spend a minute with Tina while I can, alright?" She turned back to the window to see Lynne and Tina laughing.

Tap-squeak tap-squeak tap-squeak. Then it stopped.

"Yeah," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, some other time." His tone grew harder with every word. "Another time, right? Easy for you to say, little miss hero! It ain't my fault I didn't turn into freakin' Batman when all this shit went down! But that shouldn't mean I can't go outside once in a freakin' while! All I want is half an hour. Thirty minutes! Is that really so much..."

"Get lost, Leonard, or I'll take you jogging on the roof," another man said. The newcomer spoke with the quiet confidence of one used to being obeyed. Diane knew that voice, too.

She and Leonard turned to find Lee standing behind them, with the new kid, Jamie, in tow. Lee was a five-foot-three refugee from North Korea, who claimed to have beaten up some actor named Jean-Claude Van Damme while working as an extra on one of his films. Diane didn't know who this Van Damme guy was, but she didn't doubt for a moment that Lee would have taken him down a notch.

Leonard bit off whatever words were about to spill from his lips, but he still paused for a couple of seconds to glare at Lee and Jamie.

"Lee..." Diane began, with a reproachful look. She was ever the MPC's peacekeeper. "Leonard, hold on. We'll run together tomorrow, I promise."

"To hell with all of you! Being a freak doesn't make you better than the rest of us, it just makes you a freak! That goes for you, too, new kid." Leonard jogged down the corridor, giving them a one finger salute over his shoulder as he left.

Jamie was clearly doing his best to look tough, which was sort of comical on a seventeen year old bean-pole with thick blond hair and freckles. He looked like the boy who had never grown up. He was bigger, but his features were almost cartoonishly childlike.

He had only arrived at the MPC a few hours ago, after dragging himself across the Brooklyn Bridge. While scanning his mind for signs of host control, Ron triggered his latent exterminator talents, and after a lifetime of suffering with rare disease he called SMA, his body healed itself.

He told an amazing story about escaping from another group of humans on Rikers that was controlled by some sort of master host. His group made it to the river, but one of the Rikers hosts caught up to them, and only he escaped.

"I could..." Jamie began, pointing after Leonard.

"I don't like that guy," Lee interrupted. "After all we've been through, that douche-bag still only looks out for himself."

With a patient sigh and smile, like all was right with the world, Diane touched Lee's shoulder. "There ain't a one of us hasn't earned the right to blow off a little steam. We're all on edge. Shoot, we have to be. If snapping at me makes him feel better, or helps him feel any less stir-crazy, I can afford that price. That's quarter candy for a nickel."

Lee shrugged. He was a fighter; a one-trick-pony. When he wasn't fighting, he was training to fight. He thought about fighting before he went to sleep, and dreamed about it all night. The only other thing he ever showed an interest in was Diane, and anyone who even thought about disrespecting her would learn a hard lesson.

"Yeah. Whatever. I guess one day I'll have to learn to speak Texan, because I don't think we're having the same conversation. How is Tina?" Lee asked, changing the subject before Diane could respond.

She looked away to hide her stomach-churning mixture of happiness and concern. "There's some sort of trouble with her levels, but Lynne said she and the baby are both fine." That was true enough.

"Right. Well... Good luck! Me and a few normals are heading out to S4 to sack that campus building. Someone heard they had an archery club in there. It's probably crap, but it's something to do. If you see Rico, tell him he missed his chance. He's the guy that wears that stupid Indiana Jones hat all time. We're leaving in fifteen, and nobody's seen him, so..." Lee said.

That was par for the course with Lee. She was practically bursting over her sister and all the preparations that had to be done before they could evacuate, and all Lee had to say was that one of his guys had ghosted. He couldn't muster a single word of comfort. Was he that heartless, or just that stoic? Maybe he was an "old school" man, like Gregory Peck, or Clint Eastwood; more apt to take a bullet for a girl than show his feelings.

"Well, good luck to you, then. Don't get burned. Oh, and thanks for the water!" She added as an afterthought, but he was already turning the corner towards the stairs. She shook her head at his back. He shouldn't walk next to the new kid. It made him look like a second grader.

Stop that!

She turned back for another look at her sister, once more harshly stamping out any fond thoughts of Lee. She really didn't like him in that way, but even if she did, she couldn't afford to think like that. Like all of the exterminators, her days of romance were history. If that wasn't enough deterrent, the girls buckled onto their gurneys in the next room were.

Back in Tina's room, Dr. Neumon and Lynne exchanged concerned looks while they talked and pointed at things on the charts. They both smiled and nodded reassuringly when they noticed she was watching, but she knew what she saw.

Tina looked up and smiled, too, just before Lynne closed the blinds. Tina was like a new and improved version of Diane. She was pretty and feminine; less muscular, less tattooed, and much less bald. Everyone looked up as the lights dimmed and flickered, but went right back to work. Fluctuations like that weren't unusual, but they made a fine excuse to head to the roof and check the solar panels.