Jize looked at Janice. “We did lose the vote. We have to go with them.”
Janice nodded. “Are we going south first?”
“Yes, why?” Vin asked.
“Can we stop by my home? My cat has been alone for over a week. She may be dead by now, but now that we have an opp—”
“We still have hot water,” Vin said, “so you might, as well. I think we could all use a good, hot shower, right?”
Vin was the stinkiest of them all. Jocelyn guessed he knew that.
Janice started crying. “Thanks, Vin. I hope Toonces is all right. She’s pretty resourceful. She had plenty of water left out.”
Jize gave Janice a hug and let her sob on his shoulder.
Jocelyn’s flashlight sliced through the pitch black of the pharmacy. She had two hours during her watch shift to find the medication she needed. If anyone caught her, she’d say she was just looking for some thyroid pills. Once she had her meds, she would meditate to see if Colorado Springs was indeed the right path for her.
You don’t need drugs, said a voice.
What? Who said that?
You’ve gone a long time without your medicine, said another.
Oh, shit. The voices.
Vin doesn’t trust you. He’ll kill you first chance he gets, said a third.
She sat on the pharmacy floor, hoping the voices would go away. No such luck.
You must kill Vin, said a fourth. It’s best for everyone. You’re the only one with enough courage to do it.
Her head in her hands, she sobbed. Not again. Not now. The problem was, the voices made sense. She just didn’t want to hear what she already knew.
She heard a faint noise behind her. Footsteps. Oh my god, Vin is here to kill me.
She sprung up, turning around and drawing her sword. The flashlight dropped to the floor, the light facing her. She faced a shadowy figure.
“Jocelyn,” the figure said. “It’s just Marty . . . Just me.”
It sure sounded like Marty. “No, it’s not. You’re Vin. You only sound like Marty. But you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” Is it really Vin? She was hesitating. Something was holding her back.
“Jocelyn. Listen to me carefully. If I was Vin and wanted to kill you, you’d be dead by now.”
“Ah, but you’re cleverer than that,” she countered. “You’ll probably drop one of these shelves on me. Claim it was an accident.”
Vin/Marty took a deep breath. “Jocelyn, you’re not well. We need to find your medication. I came to help you find it. You didn’t tell Vin about your condition, right?”
“No.” He sounded reasonable. But it must be a trick.
“Then I can’t be Vin, can I?”
She realized what was happening. “Oh, my god,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a shape-shifting alien. Like the others. You can even copy their brain, right? Thoughts and memories . . . Still, you’re not trying to kill me . . . What is it you want?”
“Jocelyn, I assure you I’m Marty. I came here to help. Let me do that. You’re sick. You need help. Please let me help you.”
“She needs Haldol.” A new voice. From behind Vin/Marty. Alexander?
“Shit,” Vin/Marty said.
“Quick, Alexander,” she said, still barely above a whisper. “Kill him. Kill Vin. He’s trying to kill me.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Day Eight
Alexander understood the stakes here. Although Jocelyn was shrouded in darkness within the pharmacy, he could make out the silhouette of her drawn sword.
She was having a psychotic break. It may have well been the first one in her life—she was young enough for that to be the case, the stress of the situation clearly off the charts—so it might be difficult to get her out of it.
But he was proud of himself—he’d thought of a solution.
He walked up to Marty and whispered in his ear. “Grunt and fall like you’re stabbed.” Then he thrust his hand as hard as he could into the middle of Marty’s back.
Marty grunted and fell down. Thank God Marty was smart enough to play along.
“What just happened?” Jocelyn said.
“It’s okay now, Jocelyn. Vin’s dead. You can put down your sword now.”
“Oh my God, thank you . . . Check to make sure he’s dead.”
Alexander knelt down on the tiled floor and felt for a pulse—it was racing. Marty was doing a good job of holding his breath.
Alexander looked up at her and nodded. “He’s dead. You can put the sword away now.”
He heard her sheath her sword. Thank God. He picked up the flashlight and shined the beam on her to keep her from looking at Marty.
“It’s over Jocelyn,” he said soothingly. “It’s over.”
She appeared to be calming down. He placed her flashlight on the floor, still shining on her, and risked placing his arm over the back of her neck. “Here, you should sit down. You may be going into shock.” She sat down like he asked her to. That was good.
“Let’s get this stuff off your back so you can lie down.”
“You’re my hero,” she said as she lay down. “Who are you, again?”
“I’m Alexander. Don’t worry, Vin won’t hurt you.”
He pulled the shotgun out of its holster, put her backpack under her head, and then took the sword and shotgun and placed it next to Marty, still playing dead. “You saved my life.”
“It’s all right. You stay still while I go find you something to get you to relax.”
She looked up at him and smiled.
He took her flashlight, left her quickly, and looked at the racks, finding the “H” section and the haloperidol, the generic form of the brand Haldol. The bottle contained 10 mg tablets. He really didn’t know the dosage he needed to give her, but he suspected higher than that. He retrieved that bottle, plus a 5 mg tablet bottle, and some lorazepam, an anti-anxiety medication, and then zolpidem, a powerful sleep aid.
There was water
