Sutton looked around the room and then back to Sarah. “I know you can count, you prove it each day. There are eight of us,” he told her.
“I’m not a researcher, nor in the continuity of government,” Sarah said and Skannish jumped up, trying to yank his belt off but was having serious trouble.
“I haven’t spanked someone in forty years, but I’m damn sure about to fix that!” he bellowed, still trying to get his belt off.
“Sarah, you are part of this team and without you, we wouldn’t have made the progress we have. Either you do this with us or we hold you down,” Sutton grinned. “One on one, we are intimidated by you but as a group, we aren’t.”
As Skannish pulled and tugged at his belt, Sarah looked around at the others and saw them nodding. Reaching up, she wiped a tear from her eye, “Okay, I’ll take the shot willingly,” she smiled.
“Hold her down!” Skannish yelled out as he finally got his belt undone and was pulling it off.
“Skannish, she said she would take the shot!” Sutton shouted, moving over and stopping Skannish from moving toward Sarah.
Looking at his belt in his hands, “You have any idea how hard it is for me to get this damn thing on?!” he shouted. “I should spank you just for making me pull it off!”
Walking over, Sarah took the belt from Skannish’s elderly hands. “I’m almost sorry I sat you down and force fed you,” Sarah smiled and started putting Skannish’s belt back on him.
Sutton and everyone turned to Skannish and saw he wouldn’t look at them. “It was a few days ago and Sarah told me I had been in the lab too long, but I was checking viral culture reactions. She suited up, came into the lab, and pulled me to the decontamination chamber. When she got me out, Sarah put me in a chair and forced two bowls of soup down my throat,” Skannish mumbled.
Pulling Skannish’s belt tight, Sarah buckled it and straightened his shirt up. Skannish was the only researcher that didn’t wear scrubs. “I looked up those words you called me, that’s why I’m not sorry,” Sarah grinned.
Looking at Sarah, Skannish saw his great-granddaughters but in Sarah’s eyes, he saw a determination that they didn’t have. “I shouldn’t have called you Coccydynia Bescumber,” Skannish mumbled.
“Haven’t heard that one,” Sutton chuckled, thinking the meaning out.
“Pain in the butt shit sprayer,” Sarah grinned.
Everyone laughed as Skannish moved over to his locker. “Let’s take our shots and let the president decide who gets the other nine,” Skannish said. “Sarah goes first.”
Rolling up her sleeve, “Fine,” Sarah moaned and dropped into a chair.
Chapter Twenty Five
Don’t go swimming
May 17
Crossing her fingers, Wendy flipped the lever for the door on the hull. When she heard the whine of the motor, Wendy sighed with relief. There was a crank that said, ‘Manual Operation’ but Wendy knew that would wipe her out.
As the ten-foot-tall door pulled in, the smell of the sea filled their noses. They watched the door slide down the wall on tracks, exposing a twenty-foot opening. The sun was just peeking above the horizon as Wendy flipped the switch that lowered the ramp into the water over ten feet below the door.
Making sure the winch line was hooked into the front of the jet ski and what few things they could bring already loaded, Wendy leaned and pushed against the jet ski. Slowly, the craft rolled back until it reached the slope of the ramp. Feeling the jet ski getting lighter, Wendy stopped pushing as the craft slid down the ramp and into the water with a splash.
Walking back, Wendy locked the winch line to stop the jet ski at the bottom of the ramp. Looking at the girls, Wendy could see how nervous they were. “It’s just like riding a four-wheeler or a bike. Jo Ann, you hold onto Sally, and Sally, you hold onto me,” Wendy told them and they both just nodded.
Glancing down at Ryan in the baby pack on her chest, Wendy patted his back as he chewed on his fist. Since Jo Ann was riding in the back, she was the only one with a backpack on. Since each had on a life jacket, Wendy had had to adjust the backpack so it would fit.
Putting on her sunglasses, Wendy tightened up her diving gloves. “Follow me,” Wendy said, walking down the ramp and pulling the winch line. The jet ski moved to the ramp and Wendy guided it so it sat sideways to the ramp and climbed on. Checking the spear gun strapped to the handlebar, Wendy was glad she had decided to unload it.
Reaching out, Wendy helped Sally climb on and throw one leg over the seat. When Jo Ann was on, Wendy grabbed the Velcro strap on the bungee cord line that connected to the key and wrapped the strap around Jo Ann’s wrist. It was a safety feature so if the driver fell off, the motor would shut off.
Since Jo Ann was in the back, nobody could fall off without knocking her off, but Jo Ann could fall off and not take the rest.
Wendy gave a last glance at the ship and then started the motor. “I’ll never leave the sight of land again,” Wendy vowed, gripping the handlebar. Turning the handlebar, Wendy gave the engine gas and the jet ski pulled away from the ship heading north.
Moving closer to shore, Wendy glanced to her left at Miami Beach. Turning to her front, Wendy turned the handlebar to dodge a floating body. Seeing the body was missing its legs, Wendy suppressed a shiver.
Guiding the jet ski so she was only a few hundred yards from shore, Wendy continued north but
