Gary Brandner - Walkers

Glen's forehead creased in a puzzled frown. "But then…"

"You were hitting a dead man," Hovde told him.

Glen stared. Joana sat quietly, waiting for the doctor to go on.

"The autopsy on Frankovich was done at my hospital. So was the one on Mrs. Carlson, the woman in the car last Thursday. In both cases the time of death was established as being many hours before witnesses saw them fall."

"Do the police know about this?" Glen asked.

"They don't want to know. I tried telling Sergeant Olivares. He's an intelligent, capable man, but first and foremost, he is a policeman. When I started talking about walking dead people, he tuned me out. And I can't honestly say I blame him. There is no procedure to follow in a case like that, and policemen have to be very careful about improvising these days."

"But…what does it mean?" Glen asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"I wish I knew," said Hovde. "All I can say for sure is that these… walkers were dead when they attacked Joana."

"It has something to do with what happened to me last week in the swimming pool, doesn't it?" Joana said. "The tunnel, the watchers along the walls, the voice that didn't want to let me come back."

"That I can't answer," Hovde said. "Nothing in my experience equips me for speculating on things outside the normal."

"It's crazy," Glen said. "It doesn't compute. But for the moment, let's say that is what's happening. Dead people, walkers, as you call them, are somehow, and for some reason, attacking Joana." He stopped and grinned without humor. "Jesus, it's even hard for me to say that aloud."

"That will give you an idea of the trouble we'd have convincing the police."

"I see what you mean. So the question now is where do we go from here? We can't just sit around and wait for another one of these zombies to make a move."

"No, we can't do that," Hovde agreed. "And I have a suggestion. That's why I asked both of you to come here tonight."

When he fell silent for a moment, Joana said, "What is it, Warren?"

Hovde grinned crookedly. "like Glen, I find it difficult to say this aloud. What it amounts to, there's someone I want you to meet. She's a nurse at the West Los Angeles Hospital."

"A nurse?" Glen said. "What good can a nurse do us?"

"Let him finish, Glen," Joana said quietly.

"She's an intelligent girl, and a truly dedicated nurse," Hovde continued, "but it's not in that capacity that she can help us."

"What, then?" Glen said impatiently.

"She has, well, I guess you could call it an occult connection."

"What is she, a witch?"

"It's not the girl herself, it's her grandmother. I've heard her talk about the old lady and some of the strange powers she has." He gave a little snort of laughter. "I always thought it was foolishness. But that was before."

Joana grew thoughtful, and the doctor looked at her questioningly.

"What is it?"

"Talking about the occult reminded me, Peter Landau never did show up Sunday night. On the telephone he sounded really excited. Said he had learned something important. Then, with everything that happened that night, I forgot all about him until just now. I wonder why I haven't heard from him."

"Never mind him," Glen said, "he probably found another party to go to. There's no way he could help us with his astrological parlor tricks."

"All the same, I wonder about him."

"So what about this old lady, Warren?" Glen said. "The one with the power?"

"I don't know any more than I've already told you," Hovde said. "If you'll agree, we can drive out and I'll introduce you to the nurse. Maybe she can put you in touch with her grandmother."

"It's worth a try," Joana said.

"What have we got to lose?" Glen added.

Joana frowned and Glen looked at her. "Is something wrong?"

"You just reminded me of something Peter said. I know he was kidding around at first, but I think he really wanted to help."

"I know," Glen said more gently. "If we haven't heard anything in the next couple of days, we'll look him up."

Joana smiled at him. Then to Dr. Hovde she said, "You say we can meet this nurse tonight?"

Hovde consulted his watch. "She'll be on her break at the hospital in twenty minutes. That would be the best time to talk to her."

"We can take my car," Glen said. "I'll go get the keys."

Glen went out, and they heard him jog off around the building toward his own apartment. Joana leaned forward on the sofa and searched the doctor with her eyes.

"Warren, will you tell me something honestly?"

"If I can."

"Did I really drown in that pool last week? Did I die?"

"What do you mean, Joana?"

"I mean, what if I really don't belong here? What if coming back was a mistake? If they, the walkers, have a real claim on me, maybe I'm just hurting other people by trying to stay where I shouldn't be. You, Glen, Peter, all of you are mixed up in something that could be deadly dangerous because of me."

"I don't know how to answer you, Joana. As for involving the rest of us, we're all acting of our own free will."

"That night of the party here, you saw my… my body. Just tell me, was I dead?"

Dr. Hovde was silent for a moment, then he said, "When I saw you, after they had pulled you out of the pool and Glen was working over you, my first thought was that you were gone."

Joana winced.

"But there are many, many documented cases where the vital signs were negative, where the patient was actually given up for dead, and yet revived and lived out a normal lifetime. Another thing I can assure you of, there is no record anywhere of anybody who was really and truly dead coming back to life. I don't think you have, either. If there was a mistake made, the other side made it, whoever they are. You're alive, Joana, as alive as any of us. You belong here, and we'll fight this out together to see that you stay here."

Impulsively Joana got up and came over to kiss the doctor lightly on the cheek. She said. "Thanks, Warren, for reminding me how dear life is, and how really lucky I am to have such friends."

The door opened and Glen came in jiggling the car keys. "All set."

Joana and the doctor followed him out to the Camaro.

The cafeteria on the second floor of the West Los Angeles Receiving Hospital was roomy, efficient, and impersonal. Baskets of plastic flowers had been placed on the Formica-topped tables in a vain attempt to warm up the room. Doctors, nurses, and night-shift employees drifted in, ordered coffee, a roll, a sandwich, and hurried out. It was not an atmosphere that encouraged people to linger.

At a table off to one side sat Joana, Glen, and Dr. Hovde. They had heavy white mugs of coffee in front of them, which they ignored, keeping their eyes on the entrance.

"Here she comes now," said Hovde.

A girl with clear olive skin and eyes like black coffee came into the cafeteria. She wore a white nylon nurses's uniform that moved with her small, well-proportioned body. She stood inside the doorway for a moment, looking around.

"Over here, Ynez," said Dr. Hovde.

She recognized him and came toward the table. Her smile was warm and honest.

Dr. Hovde rose and made the introductions. "Glen, Joana, this is the lady I was telling you about, Ynez Villanueva. Ynez, these are my friends, Joana Itaitt and Glen Early."

"I'm happy to meet you," said Ynez. Her voice held just a trace of musical Spanish.

"Can I get you something?" Hovde asked. "A cup of coffee?"

The nurse shook her head. "I never drink hospital coffee. Too much of it can dissolve your stomach lining."

They laughed easily and Ynez sat down at the table. She looked expectantly at Hovde.

"I appreciate your coming, Ynez," he said. "I've heard you speak several times of your grandmother. My friends may need her help."