The Restoration Project

2.06 - Merrick

Anita grunted.

It was a couple syllables, too low and guttural to be a word or phrase. Merrick wasn't even sure she could speak anymore. She exhibited the tell-tale signs of the transformation: an increase in body temperature, elevated heart rate, and loss of cognitive abilities.

"It's OK hun, we're almost there," Merrick encouraged, interpreting her grunt as a mild protest to their trek through underbrush.

Rusty padded along behind them, keeping a safe distance from Anita.

After leaving the RV, Merrick stuck to the brush that lined the roads; he needed a quick escape in case Perry and Diamond survived and sought vengeance. The worry dissipated as they neared their destination.

A crack in the trees revealed a clearing ahead and Merrick slowed their pace. Anita was a boiling stone against his side. He peered through the crack to see a collection of buildings in the distance: a shed, a house, and a barn. Walther's estate.

He almost stepped forward when a warning bell went off in the back of his mind. His gaze shifted to his feet, where he caught the reflection of a thin slice of barbed wire in the  sunlight. It ran through the fresh undergrowth, painted a dull green to blend in. A rudimentary warning system Merrick and Anita helped Walther install the previous fall.

"Alright honey, we're here. Just step over this," Merrick cautioned, reaching back to help Anita over the wire. "Very good," he added when she shambled into his arms.

"Tired," she mumbled, although the word was long and drawn out, like a sigh.

"I know. I know. How about you rest here then?" he offered, pulling her through the last bit of bushes and to the back of the shed. Pieces of rusted metal and wooden pallets leaned against most of the side, but there was a small space that could fit Anita.

She mumbled something incoherent in reply, but nodded as he leaned her against the siding. As soon as she was off her feet, her head lolled to the side and her eyelids closed. She was asleep.

Merrick ran a hand along the contour of her cheek. "We'll get you better, soon."

He ensured she was safe before surveying their position, not expecting to see anyone, but wary because he was about to do something extremely stupid. He proceeded to dive into the cooler and remove a hypodermic needle.

"I love you, honey," he said as he pressed the needle into the crook of his arm and depressed the plunger.

The hit was never immediate, physically, but it slowed his mind and clarified his thoughts. It helped him live in the here and now. All his other problems became trivial. He fought the temptation to leave Walther's and take Anita further away, where he could heal her with nature. It was a stupid notion.

But it made him smile.

Rusty's bark brought him back to the present.

Merrick scurried over to stop Rusty from barking again as a squirrel darted across the yard between the barn and the house. He was too late and Rusty let out another sharp yip.

"You gotta be quiet, boy," Merrick said, patting Rusty's head.

He sat still for a moment, ears straining to hear a door open, or footsteps approach. Thankfully, he heard nothing. When he was satisfied, he returned to Anita. "I'll be right back, OK."

He peered around the shed at Walther's farmhouse across a small yard. The yard itself was well manicured, even though they hadn't hit peak grass growing season yet. But where many other homes had brown and patchy grass filled with weeds, Walther's was a solid green. He cared for it, and didn't care if it attracted the attention of others.