CHAPTER 18

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Dr. Maudas conducted a few more noninvasive tests on Caleb, drew some more blood, and then told him they were done for the day. It was a little after lunch time by then, so the doctor offered to make them something. Caleb declined. With all he had learned, he couldn't eat. He decided to lay on the couch and watch TV. He didn't want to think, and television had always been the best way to shut off his brain. It was still on the channel with the comedies, so Caleb left it there. He certainly wasn't in a humorous mood, but the mindless, predictable stories kept his mind off other issues.

Caleb stayed on the couch all day. Every so often, the voice in the darkness tried to make him feel guilty for not acting. It called him weak, ridiculous, and shameful.

What would your parents say?

Caleb grimaced.

They'd be so lucky to have this kind of protection. They never did, so they're dead.

And you lying here is dishonoring their memory.

How? They're my memories. Zombies killed my family. Nothing I do will bring them back. And there is nothing for me out there. I can exist just as well here as I can out there.

You're such a disgrace.

Caleb didn't care. Nothing was going to change for him outside the cave. Here, he could find answers and fade into oblivion and maybe even make the world a better place. He might not have had much hope, but it didn't mean he couldn't give it to the rest of the world—which he felt he was always destined to do.

"Caleb?"

Dr. Maudas's voice was barely audible over the TV. Caleb would have turned to acknowledge his presence, but he didn't have the energy. Dr. Maudas walked around the couch and grabbed the remote, turning off the TV. Caleb would have been irritated if he could muster the energy.

"I've made dinner."

Caleb moved his eyes to look up at the doctor. "I'm not hungry."

Dr. Maudas folded his hands behind his back. "Perhaps you'd like to try? You might find you're famished."

Caleb focused his gaze on the blank screen. "No."

Dr. Maudas let a slow breath out of his nose. "It's important to keep your strength up, Caleb. A weakened immune system could cause the virus to become more aggressive."

Caleb inhaled a sharp breath, and his eyes snapped back to Dr. Maudas, who held out his hand. The last thing he wanted was for things with the virus to get worse. It couldn't possibly cause him to lose more of his humanity. It didn't feel like he had much left. He had to hang on to what was there. Still, exhaustion coursed through his body. He had to dig deep to find the energy to get off the couch. With a sigh, Caleb took Dr. Maudas's hand and slowly got to his feet.

The scent of spiced beef entered his nostrils as he stepped into the kitchen. His stomach growled softly but also cramped. He wasn't sure he'd be able to eat, but Dr. Maudas had made him afraid not to. The food sat on the table. Diced onions and tomatoes mingled in one bowl, while shredded cheese and lettuce each had their own. Both hard and soft taco shells sat on plates. Caleb couldn't remember the last time he'd had tacos, especially with fresh vegetables. He seriously needed to figure out where Dr. Maudas got his supplies. This was all so luxurious—especially for one guy in a hidden cave in the mountains.

Dr. Maudas took his seat and placed his napkin in his lap before meticulously putting together his meal. Caleb plopped into his seat and grabbed a hard shell, filling it with the accessories in front of him, a third of them spilling onto his plate. He bit into his shell, and more toppled out. The doctor smiled tightly at him.

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