Ward Z: Revelation by Amy Cross

could get treacherous out there, especially in the more remote areas.”
    “Thanks for that,” Freeman said bitterly. “I'll keep it in mind.”
    As he spoke, a few more drops of rain began to fall on the back of his neck. Pulling the tarpaulin up to the first of the yellow sacks of waste, he paused for a moment and peered inside: barely able to see a thing, he was just about able to make out a transparent plastic bag that seemed to contain a bundle of used syringes, along with bloodied bandages and several brown-stained sheets. There were also a few brown bottles, containing what appeared to be tissue samples. Sighing, he began to lift the tarpaulin over the top and then he screwed several large metal pegs into the ground, hoping against hope that they'd be enough to keep the sacks from filling with rainwater and then leaking their contents through the soil.
    “Out of sight, out of mind,” he muttered.
    He glanced up at the sky just in time to see the moon disappearing behind a thick bank of black clouds. Night was closing in fast, bringing the storm in its wake.
    Once the first tarpaulin was in place, he pulled his phone from his pocket and waved it up in the air for a few seconds, trying to get some signal. Finally achieving a connection, he waited until the phone lit up with a notification: two voice messages from his sister Karen. He brought up the first message and listened:
     
    “Me again. I'm coming to your place. You need to see this stuff, Chris. I know I usually mock you for all your crazy conspiracy theories, but something's different this time. Someone leaked some medical files from the Leadenford Hospital incident, and they mentioned an aggressive type of cancer that seems unlike anything I've ever heard of before. The description and sketches strongly match the tumor in that squirrel.”
     
    Tapping the screen for the other message, he listened again:
     
    “For God's sake, what am I -”
     
    At that point, the second call was cut off.
    “Huh,” he muttered, bringing up her number and trying to call her back, only to find that this time it was his turn to be put straight through to voice-mail. “Hey,” he said, “it's me. When exactly are you coming to my place? I'm gonna be out for a few more hours fixing things up ahead of this storm, but I'll be back later. You'd better have some beer with you, Sis, 'cause I'm out and I won't get to the store in time.” Cutting the call, he slipped his phone into his pocket and got back to work, strapping several more sections of tarpaulin over the yellow Leadenford waste sacks, until finally he finished the last bag and took a step back to admire his achievement.
    The rain was falling more steadily now, and shallow puddles were already starting to form on the tarpaulin.
    “Okay,” Freeman muttered, turning to head back toward his truck, “now for the -”
    Stopping suddenly, he spotted the silhouette of a deer standing in front of his headlights.
    “What the hell are you doing out in this weather?” Freeman whispered, before heading toward the truck and waving his arms in the air. “Go on! Get out of here!” He stopped as he got closer, surprised by the fact that such a skittish creature hadn't bolted already. “You shouldn't be out here,” he continued. “The weather's only gonna get worse.”
    As the animal turned and took a couple of faltering steps toward the truck, something seemed strange about its body, as if it was barely able to walk properly. Although Freeman was used to finding injured animals in the forest, he couldn't help noticing that this particular deer seemed strangely determined to get closer to the truck, to the extent that it didn't seem at all concerned about having a human nearby.
    “Hey!” he called out, making his way around the deer and taking care not to get too close. “What's up with you, Bambi?”
    Stopping, the deer kept its unblinking eyes focused on the truck.
    “Are you hurt?” Freeman asked, stopping once he