Under a Graveyard Sky

“There. Done. I need a receipt.”

“Just give her one that says ‘Bucket o’ weapons,’” Durante suggested. “I wish you were legal, girl. I’d propose.”

“Like I date old guys,” Faith said, then thumped him on the shoulder. “Just kidding. You’re pretty cute for an old fart.”

* * *

“So you’re the boss’s niece,” Dr. Curry said, dyspeptically.

Sophia’s previous experience in a lab was high school chemistry. She’d made her usual A.

She had no clue what most of the stuff in Dr. Curry’s lab was for. There were big boxes with lights flashing on them. There were piles of complex glassware. There were computer cables snaking everywhere.

“Yes, sir,” Sophia said, trying not to appear as terrified as she actually was.

“You can take off the respirator,” Curry said. “This is the clean zone. The hot zone is back there,” he added, pointing to a door liberally covered with warning stickers. “Wait. Have you been blood tested?”

“No, sir,” Sophia said, starting to take off the respirator.

“Then keep it on for a second,” Curry said, pulling out a lancet. “I don’t want to get exposed if you are. Hold out your hand.”

He lanced the tip of her finger, then squeezed a drop of blood onto a small white card. The blood spread through a series of channels and as it did it turned blue.

“You’re clear,” Curry said. “Now take off the mask.”

“Yes, sir,” Sophia said, finally pulling it off and shaking her head. “Whew. That feels better.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Curry said with a mirthless chuckle. “You’ll be in full gear in the hot zone. Okay, don’t get freaked by all this stuff. It’s useful but you won’t be working with most of it. Any of it probably. What you are going to be doing is working with vaccine production.” He paused and looked at her carefully.

“I understand that we’re extracting the vaccine, or the virus bodies anyway, from the spinal cords of infected primates,” Sophia said, carefully.

“Correct,” Dr. Curry said, nodding. “Just concentrate on that word. Primates. What you’ll be doing is, frankly, all the scut work. There are several procedures. Some of them are tedious and you’ll be doing the tedious ones. I did them when I was in college and grad school. I’m getting too old to pipette all day. And then there’s the washing up. I’ll be in there most of the time, all of the time at first, working with you. I’ll be doing the more complicated procedures. You just do as I tell you and you’ll be fine. The only real danger, since the material is a blood pathogen, is getting it into a cut. Do you have any cuts at all?”

“None on my arms or anything,” Sophia said, holding them out.

“Okay,” Dr. Curry said. “I do hope you brought some other clothes.”

“They’re outside,” Sophia said. “May I ask why?”

“Because there’s no way you’re working in a moon suit in a business suit and heels…”

CHAPTER 9

“Mr. Schmidt, this is my niece, Faith,” Tom said.

Dave Schmidt didn’t work for Tom. He was one of the building engineers, which was an entirely different company. But they were sort of friends and if Tom didn’t find someone to entertain Faith soon all hell was going to break loose. And he was busy, damnit.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss,” Schmidt said, his brow furrowing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Schmidt,” Faith said, waving instead of shaking his hand.

Faith was being as close as she could come to being on “best behavior.” Given that not only had Uncle Tom divested her of all her weapons, most of her gear had been dropped in the security team’s locker room. She didn’t even have so much as body armor. In a zombie apocalypse!

“There are some real-world reasons that I’d like Faith to have a thorough grounding in large scale building design,” Tom said. “I know you have duties but would it be too much of an imposition for Faith to assist you in them?”

“There are regulations, Mr. Smith…” Schmidt said, uncomfortably.

“And we live in interesting times,” Tom said, smiling broadly. “Seriously, help a guy out here.”

“I…” Schmidt said, then shrugged. “Sure. No problem.”

“Thank you,” Tom said. “I owe you.”

“Can we speak privately, sir?” Schmidt asked.

“Sure,” Tom said, waving for Faith to step out. They were meeting in the engineer’s very nearly subterranean office.

“I…” Schmidt said, then cleared his throat. “I understand that BoA has access to vaccine, sir…”

“That rumor was quick,” Tom said, frowning. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny but for the purpose of discussion…?”

“I’d really like to get some, sir,” Schmidt said, his face working. “My…my sister has already… She’s in the confinement facility.”

“I’m sorry,” Tom said, sighing. “You understand that it’s a vaccine. It’s not a cure. There’s nothing, currently, that can be done for your sister.”

“Yes, sir,” Schmidt said. “But…I really don’t want to be that way and…I have children. And grandchildren.”

“I can’t get a lot of doses freed up,” Smith said, trying not to sigh again. “I’ll see what I can do. As long as you keep that Amazon out of my hair for a while.”

“I heard about the security checkpoint,” Schmidt said, chuckling. “A sword? Seriously?”

“Are you talking about the machete or the kukri?” Tom asked. “Yes, seriously. And okay, yes, I’ll see what I can do. Just…”

“Get her out of your hair for a while,” Schmidt said, standing up and sticking out his hand. He pulled it back after a moment. “Sorry. Can do. Lots to learn. And I’m a pretty good teacher.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

“So this is it?” Faith pounced as Tom left the office. “You’re going to turn me over to some fat old engineer to go dig around in sewers?”

“Faith,” Tom said, trying not to grit his teeth. “There is, in fact, a real world reason for this?”

“What?” Faith said. “What can I possibly…?”

“Building design!” Tom snapped. “Where are we?”

“I really have no clue,” Faith said. “I got lost a half an hour ago.”

“Which is the point,” Tom said. “Let’s say that things really fall apart. That you have to do stuff that no reasonable thirteen-year-old should have to do to survive. You think that knowing how big buildings like this really work won’t be useful?”

“Well…” Faith said, frowning.

“I also am incredibly busy,” Tom said. “I’m the head of security of a major international bank that millions of people depend upon in the middle of an international crisis! Are you really so selfish you think I should spend all my time pampering to your tantrums? Or that you should even be throwing them?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Tom,” Faith said. “I… It’s just…”

“This will keep you occupied and hopefully interested,” Tom said. “While I try to save as many people as I can. So, yes, you’re going to get an introductory course in building engineering, which is at least half about how to find your way around in one. Which may just some day save your life.”

“I understand and comply, Uncle Tom,” Faith said. “But… What you’re asking me to do is creep around the, frankly, creepy bowels of a building with, you know, people turning into zombies without any warning. This is not, exactly, ‘keeping me safe.’ Sir.”

“You have a point there,” Tom said. “I’d planned on keeping you up on the executive level. Where we have