“Wait…you…I mean, he—”
“It’s a long fucking story, cap. You sure you want to hear it all?”
Hollis reached a hand out to help Hatcher to his feet. “Every word, if you don’t mind. We’ve got a pretty good hike ahead of us.”
Hatcher took his hand and got to his feet. “They bailed so fast, there should be a couple of five-tons and a handful of Humvees on the other side of the center. That is, if they’ll still start after sitting out here for months.”
Hollis keyed his coms. “Pack out to the Visitors Center. Set up a forward command post and recon the area for old military vehicles. This job might have just gotten easier.” He turned back to Hatcher. “Now, you were saying?”
Bren sat quietly while they ran her blood through a machine. She sipped at a flat soda and ignored the cookies they set out for her.
“Is this really necessary?” Jason asked.
Dr. LaRue nodded. “We’re just filtering her blood and then pumping it back into her.”
“You’re filtering out the virus?” Bren asked as she set the soda down.
“No, we’re filtering for specific types of cells so we can try to culture them with monoclonal antibody cells.” She turned and gave her a soft smile. Noting the look of confusion, she took a deep breath and tried to explain. “In order for a vaccine to work, we have to first strip the antigens from the virus and duplicate them, preferably in a weakened or dead form. Vaccines containing these antigens are then introduced into the body, stimulating the immune system response by instructing specific cells to produce antibodies. Then those antibodies are produced to fight the weakened or dead viruses in the vaccine. The immune system gets ready to destroy the real, much stronger viruses in the future. When new antigens enter the body, white blood cells gobble them up and process the information contained in the antigens so that an immune system response can be mobilized.”
Bren looked to Jason who shrugged. “They’re taking stuff out of your blood to try and make a cure.”
She nodded. “Okay.” She stared at the machine as it continued to cycle. “Are you going to take all of my blood?”
Dr. LaRue shook her head. “No, dear. We’re just running some of it through the filters and then pumping it back into you.” She patted her arm gently. “You won’t miss what we take out, I promise.”
The machine gave a tone and Dr. LaRue turned it off. She disconnected the IV tubes and taped a cotton ball to Bren’s arm. “There ya go. We’re all done.”
“For now.” Jason added.
“Right. For now.” She helped Bren up from the chair and handed her the soda and cookies. “You should have at least a few days before we’ll need you again.”
Bren nodded a thanks and Jason escorted her back to their room. When the door was safely shut, he sat her down and lowered his voice to a whisper. “How do you really feel?”
“I think the soda is flat. It’s making me nauseous.” She dropped the cookies into the trash. “Too much sugar.”
“I mean, do you feel like you?”
She turned surprised eyes to him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He fell into the chair across from her and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Bren. I just…I don’t trust them.”
“But you said we were safer here than out there.” Her voice had an edge of concern and Jason quickly took her hand.
“We are. I mean, just look around. We’re in the middle of the ocean and we have a roof over our heads, people with guns to protect us, and three meals a day.” He patted her hand. “We’re safer than out there, but…I still worry that something’s up.”
“Because nobody does nothing for nobody unless there’s something in it for them.” She repeated his words to him and he nodded.
“Yeah.” He sat back in the chair and glanced to the door. “I mean, yeah, they want your blood to try to make a cure. But what happens if they can’t? Will they dump us overboard? Ship us back to the shore to deal with the crazies? Send us back to Hatcher’s compound?” He threw his hands into the air.
“Surely not.” Her face grew concerned as she spoke. “They are the government, right? They can’t just dump us overboard if they think we’re no good to them. Can they?”
“The nine most dangerous words in the English language are, ‘We’re from the government and we’re here to help.’”
“Like death and taxes?”
Jason snorted a quick laugh. “Yeah, sweetie, something like that.”
Squirrel pulled into the lot of a small grocery store and shut off his engine. He could hear Slug approaching and assumed he got the old Harley to kick off. He shot a glance in the direction of the approaching bike and knew that Slug wasn’t happy.
He waited until the man pulled in next to him. “Why don’t you leave it idling and keep watch out here. I’ll go in and check it out. If there’s anything in there worth scrounging, I’ll come back for ya.”
Slug said nothing, but shifted his bike into neutral. He sat atop the scraped-up motorcycle and stared straight ahead. He took that as an ‘Okay, buddy, sounds good.’
Squirrel pulled his gun and approached the broken glass doors of the store. He couldn’t hear anything inside, but the smell was horrible. He was certain something lay dead on the floor and made a mental note to watch each step. The last thing he needed was to slip on somebody’s spleen and do a face plant into a liquefied corpse.
He pulled his sunglasses off and hung them from his jacket. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he could make out aisles filled with rotting and destroyed foodstuffs.
He took a deep breath and stepped farther inside. The smell hit him like a wall and he nearly gagged. He forced himself to breathe through his mouth and
