Hatcher slapped the dirt from his hands then nodded. “Tell ya what. You and Vic talk with the folks and make sure this is what they want to do; sometimes people need a change. But, I’m all for it.” He stood tall and stretched his back. “Get me a list of people who are willing to stand sentry duty and we’ll work on a rotation.” He glanced out past the new fence; he could feel eyes on them.
Candy squeezed his shoulder. “This is a good thing we’re doing here, Daniel.”
He nodded absently then pulled her aside. “Do me a favor, okay? You were a cop, right? Like, a street cop?”
“I was a deputy sheriff, but yeah, I worked some cases that might fall into that category.”
Hatcher took a deep breath and confided in her. “I have this really…uneasy feeling. Like we’re missing something obvious here. Maybe it’s because we’re not all cooped up in a steel building with limited access points…I don’t know.” He glanced back at the stucco building and shook his head. “Maybe it’s all the windows and doors. Maybe…maybe it’s because it’s so close to how things used to be. I can’t explain it; I have a bad feeling.”
She chuckled lightly and pulled him through the gate. “Take a look here. We have a ten or twelve foot high cyclone fence and the boys are stretching razor wire as we speak.”
“Barbed wire.” Hatcher corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“Fine. Barbed wire.” She spun him around. “There’s a rock wall that’s what? Eight…ten feet tall? We have an adobe building with clay tile roof. Mud bricks and clay don’t burn so they can’t use flaming arrows.” She smiled at him. “Yeah, we’re as secure as we’re going to be anywhere. Except now people have privacy. They have hot and cold running water. They have electricity that they can use, not just a single solar panel for recharging radios and stuff.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Please stop stressing, Hatch. This is the beginning of a whole new world for all of us.”
“You don’t have to sell me on all the pros to this place. I get it.” He shook his head and sighed. “I just can’t help but worry about the unseen ‘cons.’”
“Maybe there aren’t any?” She patted his shoulder. “Relax a bit. Once the garden and the greenhouse are up and running we can look into building a still.” She poked him in the ribs again. “Somebody needs to relax, and hey, if it takes cheap homemade hooch to do it…” She let her statement hang in the air as she turned back to the main lobby. “I’ll get you that list this evening.”
Hatcher looked into the sky. “It IS evening.”
Carol stood to the side while sailors carried in their equipment and stacked it neatly to the sides. On occasion, she would spot something and point out where it went. Dr. Broussard rifled through things and did his best to wipe off the salt water that had sprayed onto the sensitive gear, praying that nothing was damaged in the move.
“I’m impressed that they salvaged as much as they did.”
Carol nodded, “Me too.”
“They can save your stuff but they couldn’t pull a stack of petri dishes from the incubator for me?” Kevin kicked at a metal case then dropped to sit on it, nursing his ankle. “And where are the others? Surely we aren’t all that survived Vivian’s temper tantrum.”
Carol turned on him, her face livid. “Don’t you even!” She marched toward him, her finger pointing in his face. Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Don’t you dare belittle what she went through. Yes, Vivian LaRue was a total bitch to work for but she’s a co-discoverer of this plague and she fell to it. We know damned good and well what this virus does to people thanks to Charles and his sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” Kevin made no effort to lower his voice as he slowly came to his feet. “Charles was clumsy and got scratched by an infected person.” He turned a slow circle, his arms outstretched. “And speaking of your cured patient, where the hell is he? Is he just walking around the ship like he owns the place? Is he gonna lose it and scratch somebody and make us abandon ship again?”
Carol stepped closer and got in his face. “He was locked in an isolation ward. The same isolation ward that Vivian broke into and…” She swallowed hard, the words not coming out. “So now what’s left of our one, single, cured patient is lying at the bottom of the ocean in an iron coffin.” Her jaw quivered with anger as she berated the man. “Maybe you should be more careful with what you let slip out of your mouth.”
Kevin stood to his full height and glared at her. “Who died and left you in charge, huh?”
Broussard stepped between the two. “I believe that would be Dr. LaRue.” He towered over the two researchers and shook his head. “Be professional. Or, at least be civil. The fate of mankind may well depend on the three of us continuing our work.”
Trevor held Patricia’s hand as they walked the narrow streets through a run-down section of housing. Occasionally she would pull closer and cling to him when an unfamiliar sound was heard. He would wrap his arm protectively around her and continue.
Trevor spoke to her calmly, mostly to hear himself and break the eerie silence of the seemingly empty town. “So maybe we can find ourselves someplace nice. Some place that still has food in it.” He pulled her tighter to him as they walked. “Maybe even a real bed.”
She stopped walking and he tugged gently on her hand. “Come on. Not this side of town. We need to find someplace safe.”
She fell back into step with him and
