“I believe so.” He sat up straighter and stared. “It appears larger than the ship we just left.”
“That’s a heavy cruiser.” A sailor stated. “You came off a frigate.”
“So it is larger?” Broussard asked.
“Much so.” The sailor gripped the line tighter as the craft crested a small wave.
Broussard nodded with approval. “Perhaps they have a laboratory.” He turned to Carol excited. “Or enough room that we can create one.”
Carol gave him a shrug then turned and leaned over the edge of the boat, hurling her stomach contents into the sea. Broussard rubbed her back, hoping to ease her discomfort.
She slumped back and lilted her head to the side. “I hate throwing up.”
“We all do, I am certain.” Broussard sighed and thanked nature that he wasn’t a sympathetic puker. He looked up and saw the ship growing larger. “We are nearly there.”
Carol cracked an eye open and took in the ship before them. She sat up straighter and saw the personnel topside preparing to accept the passengers. She smiled to herself then turned to Broussard. “I think we’re going to be okay.”
She sat by patiently while they offloaded the equipment and then watched as the people climbed the metal ladder one after the other. She was nearly the last off the ship; she paused as she reached the top.
Carol stared down the barrel of a machine gun. The man holding it pointed to the side. “Females over there.”
“What is this about?”
“Inspection. Nobody gets below decks without being thoroughly inspected.” He waved the barrel again and Carol crawled over the edge and onto the rough deck.
She glanced to her left and saw two women waving her forward toward a makeshift tent. She glanced to the right and saw Broussard standing in line with the other men. His head hung low as they herded the men like cattle into a larger tent.
She reached for the zipper at the top of her jumpsuit as she entered. “What the hell. Better safe than sorry, right?”
Stinky stared at the stairs in front of him and placed his hand nervously on the rail. “Remember,” he spoke over his shoulder to Shooter. “Anything at all, let me know. I’m not as fast a runner as I used to be.”
“I got your back, bro. Just find what you’re looking for so we can amscray.”
Stinky’s sixth sense was screaming at him with this house and he didn’t know why. The three previous houses were empty, of both infected people and the drugs he needed.
He took the stairs on his tiptoes, praying he could be as silent as possible. Although there were no signs of life, the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.
He reached the top of the stairs and looked back at Shooter. The man was halfway up, his barrel pointed behind them. He turned and gave Stinky the “okay” sign. “We’re good.”
Stinky swallowed hard and peeked around the corner of the stairs. The bathroom was directly across from him, so he hit it first. A quick glance told him there were no prescription drugs of any kind to be found.
He stepped back into the hall and pushed open the first bedroom door. It was bright pink with toys scattered about. Not the master.
He walked quietly down the hall and pushed open another bedroom door. It had been set up as an office.
The last bedroom was farther down the hall and he paused, his hand hovering over the knob. He gripped it lightly and turned. With the door just cracked, he caught a flutter of light on the other side.
Stinky froze, his breath caught in his throat. Something pulled the door open slightly; his eyes focused on thin, wispy curtains blowing in the soft breeze coming through the upstairs window.
He let out the breath he had been holding and pushed the door all the way open. He could see the bathroom on the other side of the master suite and quickly made his way to it. He rifled through the medicine cabinet, squinting to read the labels.
Stinky smiled to himself as he pocketed Amoxicillin and Azithromycin. He continued to dig through the medicines then paused. He looked down at the drawers built into the sink cabinet and pulled one open. It was full of girly stuff. The next held deodorants and toothpaste. He quickly pulled those out and set them in the sink. The next drawer was full of over the counter antacids and calamine lotion.
He switched to the other side and found men’s razors and aftershave. The next drawer had condoms and lubricants. He quickly shut it and pulled out the last drawer. Dozens of partially used medicine bottles stood in the drawer and he went through them, one by one.
“Fuck me.” He whispered to himself as he pulled partially empty bottles and dropped them in the sink. “We hit the motherload.”
He glanced out of the bathroom door and hoped to see Shooter nearby. He turned his attention back to the pills. “Lortabs, Vicodin, Codeine…what the hell? He didn’t finish any of these.”
Stinky grabbed a pillow from the bed and tugged the case off. He shoved all of his goodies into it, making sure the lid was tight on the deodorants. He stepped out of the bedroom and held the pillowcase up to show Shooter. “Bingo. Better than a pharmacy.”
Shooter grinned at him. “Excellent.” He spun quickly and leveled his barrel down the stairs. Stinky braced himself for a gunshot and stared wide eyed at him.
“What? What is it?”
Shooter shook his head. “I saw something.” He swallowed hard and nodded toward the bottom of the steps. “Something ran past. Fast.”
Stinky pulled his own pistol and stepped closer to Shooter. “I ain’t climbing out no second floor window.” He nodded toward the stairs. “Just go slow.”
The pair painstakingly worked their way down the steps, each covering a different corner of the stairwell. “Are you sure?” Stinky asked as they approached the
