Carol ran the power cord to the closest outlet and plugged it in. “I think that’s about it.” She turned to Broussard. “Anything else?”
He shook his head. “I would like a light box. Like they use to look at x-ray films.”
Carol looked around the room and nodded. “I’ll talk to the yeoman and see if there’s something he can do. Maybe we can have something made that will work.”
Kevin sighed as he sat down. “If only we had something to actually work with. We’ve got no infected test subjects, no samples of the primordial virus. Nothing.”
Broussard cleared his throat and shook his head. “That’s actually not entirely accurate.” He opened a small storage container and pulled out the blood samples he had slipped off of the Kauffman. “We have some.” He placed them gently into the test tube holder. “And now that the lab is set up, we can unpack the samples that were stowed away and our records.”
Kevin’s face lit up and he smiled. “You’re pretty sly for a Frenchman.”
Carol rolled her eyes. “That almost sounds racist.”
“If French is a race, then I guess it was,” Kevin replied snidely.
Broussard held his hand up. “Enough. Please. We have a small amount of contaminated blood to work with. We have copies of the DNA profiles and we have a lot of work to do to get caught up.”
Carol nodded. “You’re right. Where would you like to start?”
Broussard glanced at his watch. “To be honest, it has been a long day and the hour is late. I think we should all retire for the evening and start fresh in the morning.” He looked to Dr. McAlester. “Is that agreeable to you?”
Kevin nodded, “No arguments from me.”
“Very well.” Broussard pulled his lab coat off and hung it on a hook beside the door.
Kevin pushed away from the table and pulled the door open. “See you kids in the morning.”
They watched him walk away as the door shut and Broussard reached out and took Carol by the arm. “Now that the main distraction is gone, would you like to get an early start?” He smiled at her.
Carol smiled and nodded her head. “The more we can do tonight…”
“The less he can mess with tomorrow.” Broussard slipped his lab coat back on and reached for one of the cases. “Let’s go through these files and see what is still pertinent.”
Carol pulled a stack of the manila folders out of the case and sifted through them. “He did ask one question that has me wondering.”
Broussard hiked a brow, his attention still on the files in his hands. “What might that be?”
She looked up at him, worry on her features. “Where are the other researchers? They were all put on lockdown when Vivian went nuts and yet…where are they? Surely more than just the three of us survived.”
Broussard stiffened and glanced toward the door. “I cannot say. But this is a valid point.” He rubbed his chin while he thought. “Do you think perhaps they were taken to a different ship?”
She shrugged. “Why? What possible reason could they have for separating us?”
Broussard sat down and eyed her cautiously. “Perhaps they feared another mishap? Perhaps they wished to keep some of us away…working separately, to keep the others safe?”
Carol nodded slowly. “Okay, I can buy that. But why not tell us?”
Broussard shrugged. “I cannot pretend to know.”
Carol took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I think maybe we should find out.”
Broussard paused and closed the file he was studying. “What do you intend to do?”
“I think it’s time we confront our little yeoman friend.”
“And if he will not say?” Broussard shrugged. “Or perhaps he does not know.”
“If he doesn’t want to tell us, we make him.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “And if he doesn’t know, we make it in his best interest to find out.”
Broussard smiled. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Trevor and Patricia walked through the night. The change in temperature didn’t seem to affect her, but Trevor found his knees beginning to ache as the pair traveled.
He paused outside of a small motel. It was one of those cheap and dirty places even before the world went to shit. The kind of place where you didn’t care if the décor matched, so long as the bathroom was functional and the beds had some kind of blanket.
He pointed to the row of rooms and shrugged. “It will be daylight soon. We’ll want to keep our heads down and I need a decent sleep for a change.” He smiled at her and pulled her closer. “Not that sleeping under an overpass isn’t the most comfortable place, but I’d much rather have a pillow to rest on, wouldn’t you?”
She simply stared at him.
Trevor nodded. “Then it’s agreed. We crash here. Maybe we raid a candy machine or something.” He leaned close and swiped at the smeared eyebrow on her forehead. “Maybe we see about getting you squeaky clean for a change. If there’s any water here, we’ll get you cleaned up and into a change of clothes.”
He stepped through the shattered glass door of the office and went behind the counter. “I’m hoping they’ll have the room keys out somewhere that we can…ah. Bingo.” He held up a set of keys with a plastic tag that read “5.”
“Hold on just a second. It’s not that I don’t trust a place like this to keep their rooms stocked, but…” He stepped into the backroom and emerged a moment later with a handful of hotel sized soaps. “Just in case there’s water, okay?”
He packed his pockets with the small soaps and walked to the other side of the lobby. He opened a door and stepped inside. “Towels? Towels?” He scratched his head. “If I were a stack of clean towels, where would I hide?” He pulled open a cabinet and smiled. “Towels. I knew you couldn’t hide forever.” He draped a handful of threadbare towels over his arm then stepped back
