THE MOMENT
"You know, if it were up to me I'd be happy to let you take a walk," the Sheriff said. He leaned against the bars with his potbelly trying to squeeze into the cell and smiled at Andre. Andre glanced around the empty station; they were the only two present.
"Who's it up to, if not the Sheriff?" Andre asked. The portly, pasty man shrugged and gestured at the exit with his thumb.
"I'm just a servant of the people," he said. "Right now, the people are talking about why you're still human. And, some of them are starting to think you never were. They're not too keen on letting something worse get out."
"Worse?!" Andre asked. "I'm just a merchant passing through for business," Andre said. He gestured at a pile of chests, bags, and jars sitting in one corner of the station. "You have my inventory right there. I don't want any trouble, I'm not even mad. I just want to leave." Andre sighed heavily on the stiff cot. The Sheriff nodded.
"Several people saw you get bit over an hour ago, myself included. However...," The sheriff reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small glass vial of green liquid. "...I think I'm the only one that saw you use this after you got bit." Andre jumped to his feet.
"Then you know I'm human!" he said. "You can tell them!"
"Oh, I don't think that 's the best idea," the Sheriff said. Andre deflated; his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Not before I get more information. It seems to me you have a cure for the zombie virus and I need to know how it works and how to get more." Andre shook his head and let himself fall to the cot again. He sensed he wasn't going to get out any time soon.
"It won't work for you or any of them," Andre said. "Not that you'll believe me."
"I can't believe you if you don't give me something," the Sheriff said. "I saw you use this after getting bit, and you're not a zombie. You all but admitted this was the reason why. So, why won't it work for us?" Andre gave a sudden, defeated laughed as if he gave up altogether.
"I can't tell you that," he said. The Sheriff nodded, sighed, then pocketed the vial again.
"You know where to find me if you change your mind," he said.
"Honey?" a woman said softly. The Sheriff straightened up immediately and whirled around.
"Babe!" he smiled and spread his arms wide to approach his wife for a hug. "What brings you here?" The short, lean woman stepped away from the hug. Her eyes were cast downward to avoid the Sheriff's gaze. "Babe?" he asked. She looked up at the Sheriff. Andre could see her eyes watering from inside the cell. He quickly appraised the rest of her and noticed a fresh wound on her thigh below the bloodied hem of her jean shorts. He stood and approached the bars.
"I'm sorry," she said. She pointed out the wound to the Sheriff. "Put me in the cell, I don't have much time left," she said with a quavering voice.
"No!" The Sheriff yelled. His hand dipped into his pocket then he shoved the vial in her hand. "Drink this!" he said.''
"IT WON'T WORK!" Andre yelled. The last thing he needed was for the Sheriff to lower his guard and get bitten. If the two of them got loose, Andre might never get out of the cell. But, the Sheriff didn't listen; he helped his wife down the liquid even though she was already growing pallid. Andre's frantic mind settled on the only idea that had a chance of working.
"It won't work!" Andre repeated. "But, I can help her. Bring her over here, you're running out of time," he said. The bags under her eyes were growing darker and the Sheriff knew the potion didn't work. It takes a normal person 5-10 minutes after being bit to transition to zombie. The Sheriff had seen it enough times to recognize that Andre's symptoms stopped immediately after he drank the liquid. He guided his wife to the cell in front of Andre.
"Closer, I need to tell her something." Andre motioned them closer. The Sheriff complied, though he was curious.
"So tell her. We don't have time for secrets," he said. Andre shook his head, then leaned forward and whispered something to her through the bars. After a few whispers, Andre pulled away and looked at the Sheriff.
"I'm breaking enough rules by telling her," he said. Then, Andre reached through the bars and turned the woman to face him. Her eyes were unfocused.
"What's your favorite number?" he asked. She stared through him.
"WHAT THE HELL??" The Sheriff yelled. He was outraged, but Andre was whispering something in her ear again. He heard the word “sharp” and was about to yank her away when Andre asked her again.
"What's your favorite number?"
"34," she said.
"What the hell?" The Sheriff asked. Warmth and color filled her; the wound on her leg healed without a mark. "Sophie?" he asked. She nodded and wrapped her arms around him.
"So... can I leave now?" Andre asked. The couple separated and the Sheriff approached the cell door while shaking his head.
"They were right. You ain't human," the Sheriff said with a deadpan expression.
"What?" Andre felt defeated again.
"You're a goddamn guardian angel," the Sheriff said as he swung the door open, then stepped aside. "It's a real shame you can't cure zombies."