Krisis (After the Cure Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

lie. They came out of the alley onto a large street that dead-ended in a massive lawn punctuated by a sprawling concrete building. The windows were bright but the light was broken into barred slats that stretched over the snow.
    “Look,” said Juliana, “I haven’t been completely honest with you about— about my group.”
    Ruth froze and tensed, her eyes darted back toward the alleyway.
    “It’s not what you think,” said Juliana quickly, “I didn’t bring you out here to rob and kill you. I meant it when I said I needed a doctor’s help. But the people I’m with— I’m the only healthy one. The rest of them have the December Plague. I found them. Some here, some on the road, some were brought to me by relatives who couldn’t care for them anymore. I take care of them. Well, I try to. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I thought you’d think I was crazy or refuse to come.”
    Ruth shook her head. “I wish I could help you, I truly do. I’ve looked for a year for a cure. I’ve tested every drug I could still find. Nothing works. There’s no cure. My own son has it.”
    “I know the Plague can’t be cured. I need help with everything else. One of them had a broken arm when I found him, another one has bed sores because her mother strapped her to the bed not knowing what to do. One of the others has some kind of flu or something. That’s what I need help with.”
    Ruth nodded and they head toward the large building.
    “I’m sorry about your son,” Juliana continued, “but I’m grateful that I don’t have to explain to you why I care for them. Other people ask why I don’t just let them die or put them out of their misery, but you understand.”
    “I’d like to hear what you tell them though,” said Ruth, trying to keep her voice casual.
    “I tell them that we don’t know what the Infected are feeling or thinking. Maybe they are asking for our help. Maybe they feel terrible about what their bodies force them to do. They are human beings just like us. I’ve heard some people call them zombies or undead. Can you imagine? They’re just sick. We don’t let people starve or freeze because they caught the flu do we? Why should this be any different? The human body is an amazing thing. Some of them may fight it off and recover. But only if they live to do so. What if they remember what we did to them? Some days it seems like all the kindness is gone from the world.”
    Ruth’s eyes blurred and her voice was unsteady. “What if it’s kinder to let them die?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Have you heard them? They are constantly in pain. They never stop screaming and scrabbling— and if they ever do get better and remember, like you said, what about the things that they did to their loved ones? Do you think they’ll want to remember that? What if, by keeping them alive all this time, instead of letting nature take its course and the population of Infected die out due to exposure or starvation or combat, what if we are the ones being cruel?”
    Juliana shook her head. “If you really believed that, your son would already be gone.” She put her hand on a thick iron bar that lay across the door. “I have to believe that their lives have some value, that their personalities or souls or whatever are still in there, hoping to wake up. Millions of people are dead, just in this city alone. A handful of us survived, including the Infected that have been cared for. Am I supposed to believe we’re only here because of dumb luck? There must be a reason we’re still here. All of us.” She lifted the bar slowly upright until it clanked into place.
    A chorus of howls and shrieks cascaded from the rooms near the entrance and traveled like a wave down the building until the whole place echoed with torment. Ruth thought she might be walking into hell itself. Juliana didn’t even seem to notice. “They’re all in separate rooms, you don’t need to worry. And I do have their movements restricted, so