A Spoiled Rule

Chapter 15

"We will keep the zombies away," said Jackson. "Harvey and I are going to head right, while Gresham and Theron head left. We'll go five hundred feet before turning back."
Liam nodded. Mostly he was humiliated speaking to a guard while he lie flat on his back, though he did not have strength to stand for long despite the medication Stephen had given him. "Try to be back within the hour."
Jackson nodded and headed down the tunnel alongside Harvey, while Gresham and a reluctant Theron went left.
Liam stared at the blank stone ceiling. He had not gotten much sleep. He was afraid to sleep. He did not want to dream vivid dreams that left him confused beyond reality. He was prepared for the sickness, but he couldn't have imagined it would come with hallucinogenic torture. He wondered whether his father had suffered similarly. No, Liam thought. His father had never suffered in this way. He had slept through the suffering and felt no pain.
Liam gazed at Stephen, who was rummaging through a newfound box of snacks. Liam took a deep breath and cursed himself ahead of time for what he was about to do. He rolled over onto his elbows and pushed himself to his knees, upon which he sat for a minute or two, ashamed at how exhausted he already was.
"I wouldn't recommend completing that mission," said Stephen, gazing at Liam with narrowed eyes.
Liam held up a finger to quiet him. He took another breath and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.
Stephen was suddenly by his side, holding his arm to steady him. "Why do you insist on standing?"
"Mission completed," Liam mumbled. "You know why it is that I stand."
Stephen sighed and nodded.
"Are you sure he will be alright?" asked Prima suddenly, who was gazing not at Liam but at Ryan, who lie asleep.
"I have done the best I can with the surgery," said Stephen. "He will heal, he just needs to rest. As do you," he added sternly toward Liam.
"Liam won't do that because he doesn't want to sleep through anything important," observed Prima, taking a few steps toward them. "You feel you should be with your guard."
"I feel I should be protecting those around me until I draw my last breath," said Liam defensively. "Did you ever date Theron in your past?" he said abruptly.
"Liam," warned Stephen.
"What?" snapped Liam. He could not control the sudden anger that pulsed through his veins. He was not angry at Prima, and he didn't want to use her for his anger, but he felt he had no choice. He also didn't want to disrespect the man who was trying to heal him, but it wasn't Stephen's place to give a warning to Liam.
"I understand that you are in pain and with pain comes anger, but it would not be wise to use your energy on such a thing," mumbled Stephen.
Prima held her hands firm against her hips. "Theron is just as stubborn as you," she scoffed. Then, her cheeks flushed and her eyes softened. "I... I am sorry you're sick, Liam," she said softly. "We all are."
Liam could not think of a response, so he remained quiet.
A flurry of movement caught his attention. A single zombie came running from the depths of the tunnel to his right. Liam reached for his knife but grasped at air.
Prima ran for the zombie and they collided. She dug her toes into the ground and shoved at the zombie's shoulder blades, and it fell to the ground. Immediately its arms thrashed and grabbed for Prima, and it began to clamber to its knees. Prima brandished her blade and sliced at its left wrist. Its hand smacked the ground. The zombie let out an inhumane snarl. Prima stepped on the zombie's other arm with her boot and pinned it to the floor, and she bent down at its gnashing teeth and dug her knife through its nose.
"Prima, are you alright?" Liam asked once the zombie ceased its noise.
Prima stood and pocketed her knife. "I am alright," she said, stepping back to catch her breath.
"Where is my knife?" asked Liam.
Stephen took a knife from his coat pocket and showed it apologetically to Liam. "I took it only for your safety. I did not want you to cut or stab yourself if you were to have another attack like the one before."
Liam thought for a moment. "Very well, you shall keep it," he said quietly. He took a breath. "It came from Jackson and Harvey's route, did it not?"
Prima began to pace. "Gresham?" she said loudly, her voice echoing. "Gresham, come back!"
"Prima, I would lower my voice if I were you," said Liam as politely as he could.
"What's going on?" she hissed. "How could that zombie have passed Jackson and Harvey? What if they're hurt?"
"I will go out and search for them," said Liam. He turned to Stephen and gently pried his arm from him.
"No," said Stephen suddenly.
"Stephen, I would like you to stay here with Ryan and Prima," said Liam quietly yet firmly.
Stephen shook his head. "It is the doctor's recommendation that he goes with his patient," he said. "You are not in a condition to be left alone."
"It is the doctor's recommendation, not command," said Liam. He could see despair in Stephen's eyes. "This will be my last command as king, Stephen, and you shall obey it."
"Please," Stephen begged. "Liam, you will be going against your personal doctor's orders!"
Liam knew Stephen was well aware of the reasons why he should stay behind, yet Liam decided to speak clearly. "You have two broken hands and I suspect you have not slept much because of the pain," he said, eyeing the bags beneath Stephen's eyes. "And you have another patient who just underwent surgery."
"I will go with you," said Prima.
Liam shook his head.
"I shall," she declared.
"Who will watch over Stephen while he sleeps?" questioned Liam. "Who will be there to welcome your brother's safe return? He will become sick with worry if you are not here when he returns."
Prima wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat.
Liam turned and made his way down the tunnel. Neither Stephen or Prima spoke as they watched him go, and it was better that way. Liam could feel he would not return. Time passed slowly within each step he took. His thoughts circled endlessly, and he listened to his breaths and his sloppy steps.
How he wished he were a child. How could his parents have thought it a good idea to bring a son into the world, knowing very well what his fate would be? Liam should have been better prepared for this moment. Oh, how the guilt was eating away at him. It was sapping all his energy. As such, he was beyond tired when he reached the first split of the tunnel. He looked to his right. There were no zombies beneath the golden lights. He continued forward. How many steps had he taken? He had not been counting.
A pain settled in Liam's stomach. He feared the worst-that he'd fall into another vivid dream, or he'd begin to vomit blood. He clenched his teeth shut and focused on his steps.
Left foot.
Perhaps Jackson had gotten turned around.
Right foot.
Jackson knew the tunnels as well as Liam. He could not possibly have gotten turned around, but Harvey could have.
Left foot.
That must be it. Harvey must have gotten turned around and Jackson must be searching for him.
Right foot.
That would explain how the zombie had gotten to them. But how many were down there, with Liam?
Left foot.
Liam was without his knife. Should a zombie come charging at him, he would die. But to die by the plague... Would it be worse than the suffering to be endured now?
The pain strengthened.
Right foot.
Stephen's estimate was five, ten minutes to become a zombie, wasn't it? Surely that would be better for Liam than his body rejecting its own blood.
Left foot.
But that was no way for a king to die. He was not the only one who thought the same, for the voices ahead agreed.
"A king should be above the ground, not hiding beneath! We will die in these tunnels if we do not find our way out!"
"Yes, but I still feel that the ruler of this kingdom would have taken refuge beneath. This is the safest place."
"We have encountered three zombies down here already! How is it that they got down here? Perhaps one of them was the king. Perhaps he is dead."
Liam could no longer listen, for his pain was extreme. The pain was so great that he could not breathe. In fact, his lungs were not cooperating. Something was dripping from his mouth. What was worse, he heard footsteps from multiple directions drawing near. Defenseless and perhaps hallucinating, he fell to the ground and smacked his head against the stone, and immediately a sleepy sickness overtook him.