Page 15

FIFTEEN

CIPHER

A young man entered my room; his hair reminded me of a fluffy cloud surrounding his handsome face. He looked nervous as hell and didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He tried stuffing them in his pockets, then rubbed them together and tamped down his hair. Finally, he dropped his arms and held them stiffly at his sides.

Happily, I now had free use of my hands and legs. The restraints had come off a few days ago, and I’d been walking around my room to bring back the strength I’d lost while sick and strapped to the bed. Godara said my physical therapy sessions would start soon, and I was looking forward to it.

Still, being stuck inside these four walls was a drag. I wanted to see grass and sunlight, check out the base and do a little recon. I’d been looking forward to this visit with my “friend” since Godara mentioned it the day before. I’d showered and washed my hair, even shaved the scruff on my face and neck. I’d also insisted on some real clothes, rather than having to greet him in that skimpy hospital gown. I probably still looked rough as hell but at least I was clean.

“Hi,” the young man said, giving me a timid little wave, still standing on the other side of the room.

“I’m not contagious,” I said. That’s what Godara had told me at least.

“Oh, that’s not why…” He took a few abrupt steps toward me.

“Are you one of the friends I keep hearing about?” I asked.

He laughed, just a little. Killer smile, that one. “Yes, my name is Joshua Perrin-Rogers.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. It felt good to hold his hand, familiar in a way I couldn’t pinpoint. The brief contact was over too quickly.

“Joshua,” I said, rolling his name around on my tongue, trying to see what memories might resurface. I’d done more than just memorize their names, I’d used them like a lifeline these past couple days, repeating them in my head while imagining who they might be. Part of me was afraid that my “friends” were simply an invention of the medical staff here to give me hope and help me get better, but this felt very real. Joshua Perrin-Rogers was somehow exactly as I’d imagined, and yet the name…

“Is that what I call you?” I asked.

“No, you usually call me Kitten,” he said, ducking his head.

“Kitten, yes, that makes sense,” and it did for some reason. The gaps in my memory were frustrating and at times, rather terrifying, because people could tell me anything about myself and I wouldn’t know what to believe. “What would you like me to call you?” I asked.

“Oh, um, whatever you want,” he said, smiling shyly. Dimples too. A real looker.

“Kitten then,” I decided and he nodded, seeming pleased by it. “Where is Hudson Clarence Holt?”

He looked confused for a moment. “You mean Macon?”

“Macon? Yes, Macon.” It seemed we all had code names.

“He had to go home. He was missing Artemis. She’s your number two, also his girlfriend, though no one talks about it because they’re very private. I’m guessing it’s more because of Artemis than him, since he’s pretty open about most things. She’s a bit of a mystery when it comes to romance. She probably wouldn’t want me saying that.” He stopped suddenly, looking sheepish. I smiled back at him, enjoying the sound of his voice and his rambling way of speaking. It was raising memories, slowly but surely. They were faint right now, like the softest watercolors on canvas, but I was hopeful they’d become more vibrant over time.

“They redid your cast.” He motioned to my other arm.

“Did they?” I lifted it up to show him since he seemed interested.

“Did they x-ray your arm too?”

“I think so? To be honest, I was out of it for a while. I have no idea what they did to me. I still get tired easily. The first time I walked around my room, I thought I might pass out.”

“It takes time to heal,” he said as if he knew. “Are they treating you okay?” He examined me all over, clearly concerned for my well-being.

“Well, other than cutting off my leg.” I motioned to it. The look on his face was priceless.

“You’re teasing me,” he said with a note of delight.

“Yes, but when I first came to, I kinda thought they had.”

He laughed, full-bellied, head thrown back. I’d never heard a prettier sound. I couldn’t help chuckling a little myself. My funny bone was rusty.

“Seriously, though, you’re not feeling too trapped in here?” He searched my face.

“I’m okay, though I wouldn’t mind a radio.” I said it a little louder in case the good doctor was listening. “Other than the boredom, it’s not too bad. I’ve been sleeping a lot too. The doctors say it’s the best thing I can do for my body right now.”

“They’re right. You look so good.” His eyes shined as if about to cry. Poor thing. He was an emotional one, and his face hid nothing. He was probably a bad liar too. Maybe I could trust him? I motioned to a chair. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it seemed like he might do better sitting down. Kitten dragged it over to my bedside.

“It’s because of your hair,” I told him, seeing it now. “Reminds me of a cat.”

“Yes, and when we first met you thought I was as soft and weak as a kitten,” he said, still with a playful smile on his face.

“Soft, maybe, but definitely not weak,” I corrected.

The blush rising in his cheeks did strange things to me as he stared back, the weight of his gaze a soothing balm to all the chaos and confusion I’d experienced recently. I could look at him all day, wanted to in fact. He finally broke eye contact to fish inside his pocket for a pack of playing cards. “I brought these. Macon and I learned a few new games from the soldiers here. Seems like they play a lot of cards in their downtime.”

“Macon and I get along?” I asked.

“Oh yes, like brothers.” He made a face. “Like brothers who are nice to each other. We have a lot of friends. They all miss you and want you to get better. They’d like to visit but it’s not easy to get around, especially since they took our Humvee.”

He seemed irritated by that, and I made a mental note to ask about it later. I was hung up on the idea of home. It sounded nice; I’d like to hear more about it.

“Here’s a question,” I said to him. “Why Cipher?”

He smiled again. “Well, I guess it’s because you’re so… mysterious .”

“Oh my God, is that what I tell people?” I was a little embarrassed for myself.

“That’s what you told me,” he said, still grinning adorably.

I shook my head. We needed to change the subject. “Do I typically play cards?” I asked.

“We do sometimes, when we’re not working. You’re more often concerned about the security of our compound. Assburbia, we call it because we’re Assholes living in the suburbs.”

I chuckled. Very clever. “Did I come up with that name too?”

He shrugged as he shuffled. “We sort of all came up with it. A lot of our best ideas are group projects.”

Kitten then explained the rules for a game called Go Fish, dealing out the cards to each of us on my little food tray on wheels. I was pretty sure I’d played this game before, and it was good the rules were simple because I kept getting distracted by his smile, the way he’d tuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth when he was thinking or tug on an errant curl.

“What is it?” he asked, perhaps noticing my fixation.

“Nothing, I just…” I smiled, feeling a little embarrassed to say it. “I like looking at you. You’re really handsome. It’s kind of distracting.” Was I flirting with him? Maybe so, but there was something about him. “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

He laid his warm hand on top of my casted one and squeezed my fingers gently, the card game completely forgotten. “Don’t be sorry. I think you’re handsome too. You can look at me as much as you want.”

Warmth bloomed in my stomach, along with a jitter of nervousness. I’d felt relief in these past few days, and comfort, but this was the first surge of happiness I’d had since coming back from being Rabid. Kitten was indeed my friend, and by that logic, Macon was too, which meant Godara had been telling the truth. This handsome, gentle soul truly cared about me. I wasn’t alone in this world. I had friends and a family, a place to belong. I had a home.

“Do you have a four?” I asked him.

“No, go fish.”

I reached for the pile between us. I already had two pairs—a winning hand—but I didn’t want the game to be over just yet.

Dr. Godara took the hint and brought me a radio, and after Kitten left, I spent the evening catching up with what all was happening in the world. Pretty fucking bleak overall, but it did help to trigger a few memories for me, both good and bad. TLDR: the world was fucked, no place was safe from Rabids, and the fact that I was still alive and human was nothing short of a miracle.

“Well, what did you learn?” Godara asked me the next morning during our daily check-in. These used to be done via her disembodied voice on the intercom, like some sort of benevolent Kitchen God, but now it was done face-to-face in my room. I’d been surprised to discover she was only five foot, two inches. I’d assumed her to be at least seven feet tall.

“Sounds like a real shitshow out there,” I told her as she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around my upper arm and pumped it full of air.

“I’d discourage you from listening to too much of the news. It’s important to your recovery that you maintain a positive outlook,” she said as she jotted the results on a clipboard. “Your friend seemed very happy to see you.”

“Yeah,” I said, getting a warm, tingly feeling low in my belly. “I was happy to see him too.”

“He’ll be by again this afternoon?” she said.

“That’s what he said.”

“Do you have any memories of him?”

“Not as strong as my family, but they’re coming back to me in bits and pieces. Conversations we’ve had and flashes of his face. I think we’re very close.”

“Yes, it seemed that way to me too.”

That was good; it meant I wasn’t inventing things in my head. “Here’s a question for you, Doc. You all are sitting on a cure over here. Why not let the world know about it?”

She was slow to respond as she often was when thinking about an answer to one of my questions. “There’ve been a lot of claims already of a cure, which this is not, by the way. It’s a treatment. And it doesn’t have a great success rate, not yet at least. For every one of you, there are many more who didn’t make it.”

I made a face. “Not very good odds?”

“No, unfortunately not. And we have to weigh the cost along with the benefits. The emotional toll it takes on doctors and nurses to care for patients who may not survive, as well as the material cost of manufacturing the pharmaceuticals en masse, not to mention the security needed to contain virulent patients. Lean forward.” She placed the cold bell of her stethoscope against my back, listening to my lungs. They used to crackle whenever I breathed too deeply, but that seemed to be going away as well. I hadn’t had a coughing fit in a couple days, all good signs.

“The treatment needs to be better before we devote those kinds of resources to its production,” she continued, “but we’re getting closer every day, and you’re part of that story now, Cipher.”

She reminded me of my mother, matronly but reserved, caring but not coddling. “My mother was a researcher,” I told her as I took another deep breath.

“Yes, I’ve studied her work. A lot of what she was doing was groundbreaking at the time.”

I was surprised that Godara had even heard of my mother. I thought my mother’s research had died with her, but perhaps it had contributed in some small way to whatever advancements were currently being made. I decided not to mention that my father was her unwilling patient zero or that she’d hidden her own infection from us to continue her work. It seemed less important now. Desperate times and all.

Godara then asked her usual battery of questions–about my appetite, my mental health, even my bowel movements. There were no secrets between us. When she finished her examination, she put away her tools and asked, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do next?”

“When I’m released?”

“When you no longer have to devote all of your time and energy to surviving.”

“You mean, like a job?”

She nodded, her gaze steady and sure. “Yes, your future career. You have a lot of potential, Cipher. Research, security, logistics, transport, all of these options are available to you here at StarChem Laboratories. It’s good to have a plan.”

I hadn’t expected to get career advice from Dr. Godara. Was she moonlighting as a high school guidance counselor? Trying to recruit me? I shrugged. “I honestly haven’t thought too much about it. Still seems like a pipe dream.”

“It’s not,” she said with a knowing look. “That future is closer than you think.”

Kitten visited me every afternoon, the same time each day. I looked forward to it from the time I woke up in the morning, and missed him as soon as he left my room with a soft smile and a little wave goodbye. We were only allowed one hour together, but we made the most of it, and he always came with a gift. One day it was a bouquet of flowers he’d picked from the garden on base. Another day it was two sugar cookies from the mess hall. Today, he had a rolled-up paper and was fisting it in one hand like a pirate.

“What’s this?” I said to him. I’d asked Godara to bring in a table and a second chair so that I didn’t always have to greet him while lying in my sickbed. I wanted him to see me as healthy and strong. I stood to give him a hug, our usual greeting, taking advantage of the closeness to smell him, which I usually did. The hugs never lasted long enough for me, but I didn’t want to be a creep.

“I made this for you,” he said after we’d sat down. He pushed the paper toward me, looking slightly nervous.

“Is it a naked drawing of you?” I asked just to tease him. He smiled and blushed, a win.

“No,” he whispered, scandalized. “Would you want that?’

I stared at him, feeling caught, not wanting to admit it but also not wanting to take it back either. I would definitely want that. My silence was confirmation enough for his smile to turn smug. “Open it,” he said.

Clearly it was precious. I took my time unwrapping it, unrolling the paper carefully to lay it flat on the table. It was a drawing, not of him unfortunately, but still amazing. Rendered in painstaking detail, it was a diagram of the entire StarChem base drawn to scale and labeled with descriptions in a tiny, neat print.

“Did you draw this?” I asked.

“Yes. There were many drafts before this one.”

“This is incredible.” I was impressed by his skills and flattered by the time and effort he’d spent in making it for me. I couldn’t have done a better job myself.

I knew from my conversations with Godara that the lab was in the basement of the base, the most secure area of the compound on account of the sort of patients they housed here, current and former Rabids like myself, though they didn’t call them that. The term “Rabid” was dehumanizing, Godara had told me, a hard habit to break.

“And we’re here?” I said, pointing at the sub-level floor.

“More like here.” He moved my finger with his, sending an electric jolt through me. I’d been dreaming of him constantly, the taste of his mouth and the texture of his skin. At night and in the daytime too. Some of my fantasies were so detailed they felt real. I definitely liked guys, and one guy in particular.

“I like maps,” I said with certainty. Some things came back to me with a sudden striking clarity. Like a gong going off in my head. This was one of them.

“Yes, you love maps. You always have one with you, even on our compound.”

“This is amazing, Kitten. You’ve done a really great job. It must have taken you forever.”

“I have the time, and I have more good news. Dr. Godara said we can take a walk outside today.”

“Why didn’t she tell me that herself?”

“Probably because I begged her on the way here,” he said with an impish grin. He probably got his way more often than not. I certainly wouldn’t deny him.

“I need shoes,” I said, glancing around. “Or a shoe at least.”

“I’ll help.”

Kitten went to my small closet and pulled out a boot that I’d assumed had been mine since most boots came in pairs but not this one. Steel-toed with good rubber tread, well-worn leather, all things I appreciated. “This is my boot,” I said, even having a vague memory of how I’d felt when discovering it. Scavenging.

“Yes, you found this one and mine too,” he said, showing off his own pair of similar boots. I admired them, along with the strong legs they were attached to.

“Am I ever jealous that you have all of your limbs?” I asked.

He tilted his head and looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know if you’re jealous, but you are sometimes frustrated that you can’t run as fast or climb very well. I think you’d like to be seen as athletic. But then, I have my own limitations too.”

“What are they?” I asked, feeling bad for not knowing already. I wanted to know everything about him.

“I have asthma and I’m deaf in this ear.” He pointed to his right one.

“Oh.” That must be why I always leaned toward his left when we hugged, because I was used to speaking into his good ear. “We had to find you an inhaler,” I said, recalling a drug store and a sudden change in plans due to Rabids ambushing us.

“Yes. We were attacked by Rabids in a CVS, but that’s not where you were bitten. You were with my brother when that happened.”

He seemed angry again. That I’d been bitten? I knew that it happened in a strawberry field with Santiago, his brother, or so I’d been told, but the events of that day were still fuzzy for me, like so many other things.

“I am a bit jealous that you have more information than me,” I admitted. I could be honest with him about things like that. He hadn’t used anything against me so far.

“All that I have is yours too. I won’t keep anything from you, Cipher, I promise.” The sincerity in his expression took me back for a moment.

“All right,” I said slowly.

Kitten went down on one knee and laced up my boot for me as if he’d done it a million times before. I couldn’t help but lay my hand in his hair and feel the soft curls between my fingers, like silk. I’d been wanting to do that since I first saw him. He stilled underneath me and I pulled back, apologizing.

“It’s okay,” he said, staring up at me with a dreamy look on his face, eyes wide and wanting. “I like it.”

Had we been lovers? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself or make him uncomfortable if the answer was no. I dragged my fingers through his fluffy hair, enjoying the gentle caress while he worked. This was definitely something we’d done before. And the reaction my body was having, yeah that seemed pretty standard too.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we stood. I turned slightly to adjust myself, embarrassed but not going to make it worse by bringing attention to it. I folded the map until it was a perfect square to fit in my back pocket. “What is it?” I asked because he was watching me closely.

“That’s what you used to do. You’d fold them in the exact same way and tuck them in your back pocket.”

“I’m the same person,” I said, then added, “I think. I suppose you’d know better than me.”

“You are the same person,” he said, smiling widely. I took it as a good sign. He seemed to like that person well enough. “And we’re going to the garden.” Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the room and through the winding corridors of the lab, which I’d only seen briefly in my transit from one hospital room to another. I had the urge to examine my new map as we navigated the underground maze, but I didn’t want to let go of Kitten’s hand. Friends held hands from time to time. That was normal bro behavior, right?

Dr. Godara met us at the exit to let us out of the medical wing with the reminder to be back in an hour. On our way through the base, Kitten introduced me to people he knew as we passed by them. They all seemed to know me, or know of me. I suspected Kitten was the type to make a friend wherever he went. The possessive part of me wanted to hoard him for myself. An hour a day wasn’t nearly enough time with him. That would be my next demand from Godara.

When we reached the outdoors, I stopped him. It had been so long since I’d seen the sun that I simply needed to close my eyes and tilt my face toward it, basking in the warmth. I inhaled deeply of the fresh air, perfumed with the scent of flowers and soil. Summer was just around the corner; I knew it from the temperature and weight of the air, thick with humidity.

I also smelled diesel fumes, which must be from all the generators it took to run this place. I’d need to investigate that more.

“You like being outside,” Kitten said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. I felt lighter and more invigorated just being outdoors. Once I’d gotten my bearings, Kitten set off again, leading me past the concrete courtyard where new recruits were being put through their paces, beyond a grassy lawn meant for drills or perhaps team sports, through another chain-link fence and into a vast field for planting and harvesting food crops. There were also fruit trees dotting the periphery and an orchard with a bench in the shade. Very nice.

“And this is my garden,” he said, presenting it to me with a flourish. “Well, not mine. Everything here belongs to the United Forces, but I take care of it with Audrey and a few others. Oh look, a dandelion.”

He bent down to pluck the fuzzy flower from between two rows of tomatoes and brought it up between us. “Make a wish,” he said.

I want to kiss you, I thought as we each blew on the flower and watched the fluffy seed heads float away in the light breeze.

“We talk about that sometimes,” he was saying. “How each of us are like dandelion seeds, but fate blew us all together. We’ve discussed getting matching tattoos one day, but I wouldn’t know where to put mine, and I’ve heard that they hurt a lot. Even though I want to be a doctor, I’m not too crazy about needles myself, not to mention we’d have to find a tattoo artist or try and do it ourselves…”

He continued talking as another moment of blessed clarity struck me. This man was everything to me–my past, my present, and my future. I loved him with an intensity that made my one knee weak and my heart beat faster inside my chest. I’d do absolutely anything for him, and regardless of where we stood, it felt urgent to make my feelings known. Today. Right now, because who the fuck knew what might happen tomorrow?

“Kitten, are you mine?” I asked, touching his hair, marveling at the enormity of this revelation.

He ducked his head shyly, a charming habit of his. He licked his full lips and stared at me with his defenseless, trusting eyes. “Yes, I’m yours, Cipher. I always have been, from the moment we first met.”

“Yes, you are,” I confirmed with a certainty unmatched by any other. I felt it in my blood and in my bones as I pulled him close and gripped him tightly to me. I buried my nose in his curls and inhaled him, my favorite scent, my favorite person. “You are mine.”