Carol stood up straighter and stretched her neck. “Then let’s get back to it.” She handed him the films she had been studying. “These are all the gene sequences I’ve been able to identify that are common between all known strains.”
Broussard held the films up and used the overhead lighting to highlight the white bands. “Very good.” He spoke softly as he compared the films. “We may have a fighting chance after all.”
Carol raised a brow at him. “Don’t tell me there’s actual hope.”
Broussard turned and gave her a broad smile. “Oui. More than just hope.” He shook the films at her. “A treatment.”
Trevor struggled to get his “daughter” dressed again. She wanted to play. She kept trying to splash water at him. He got all but her socks on when she bolted and ran to the other side of the room. She giggled as she bent low and hid behind the bed; it was a raspy, growlish sound, but it lifted his heart to hear it.
“Oh, you want to play hide and seek, huh?” Trevor crept across the floor and pulled the comforter up, spying her knees and feet on the other side of the bed. He slowly reached up and took a pillow in his hand. With a quick jump, he launched over the bed and brought the pillow down on top of her balding head. “Gotcha!”
She squealed with delight and darted across the room, jamming herself into the corner beside the door.
Trevor rolled off of the mattress and brought the pillow up in an exaggerated striking position. She hunkered lower, giggles escaping as he stalked closer. He stood just above her and held the pillow high in the air. As he brought the “hammer of death” down on her, she dove between his legs and darted to the other side of the room.
Trevor spun slowly and gave her a mock scowl. “You can’t escape me, little missy.” He took exaggerated steps toward her, his voice low as he called out the steps. “Boom! Boom! Boom! I’m coming to getcha!”
She squealed and slipped behind the flimsy black out curtains. Trevor smiled and pretended he didn’t know where she was. “Oh, no…where did she go?” He lifted the comforter again and peered under the bed. “Is she under here?”
He popped his head back up and caught her spying him through the parted curtains. “Nope. Not there.” He heard her giggle then slip back behind the curtain. “Could she have gone back to the bathroom? Maybe she’s hiding under the water?”
Her giggling quickly shifted to a near scream and she shot out from behind the curtain. She ran to Trevor and wrapped her arms around him, nearly taking him to the floor.
“What’s wrong? Did you see something?” He tried to step toward the window but she held him tight. “Peanut, I need to see. I need to know what…” his voice trailed off. He bent low and turned her slowly. The back of her neck was bright red, small blisters beginning to form on her skin.
“What the hell?” He pushed her away from him so that he could examine her. The backs of her arms were reddened as well, small blisters forming there as well. He ran his finger gingerly down the back of her arm and she winced.
“How in the world did…” He turned her back around and saw the fear and pain etched on her tiny features. “You’ve got a sunburn. A bad one.” He glanced around the room, struggling to think of what he could use to soothe her burnt skin.
He walked back to the bathroom and pulled a clean rag from the pile. He lifted the tank and dipped it into the cold water. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently applied the cold rag to her skin. “I’m so sorry, Peanut. I had no idea…”
She whimpered softly as he cooled her skin. He pulled her to him and gave her a soft hug, being careful of her tender areas. “That’s enough playing for now.” He stood and went to the window. He peeled the curtain back slightly and glanced outside to ensure they were still alone. With a quick tug, he closed the gap, sending the room into darkness once more.
“Okay, kiddo. Let’s get some rest. We have a big night coming up.”
He pulled the blankets back and laid her gently down. With a quick peck on her forehead, he tucked her in then settled next to her.
He stared at the ceiling and noted that she fell almost immediately asleep. He actually envied her ability to do that. He turned to his side and studied her little form breathing quickly beside him. “I know there’s some good folks out there. And I know they have plenty.” He sighed and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “I just don’t know what they’d think of you.”
He sat back and stared at the ceiling, praying for some form of guidance.
Chapter 17
“Say that again, but slower. I don’t think I heard you right.” Simon glared at Shooter as he spoke through gritted teeth.
Shooter nodded. “You heard me right. They’re gone. Like, poof. Just up and disappeared.”
Simon squeezed his eyes shut and slowly shook his head. “No.” He began to pace, his mind racing. “No, no, no…they can’t be…” He spun on Shooter, his eyes wide. “Were there bodies laying around?”
Shooter gave him a puzzled stare. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, were there bodies? Like the Ragers made a Manwich out of them?”
Shooter shook his head. “There was a trailer full of bodies, but they were all gray and bloody and…most had lost their hair.” He swallowed hard, trying not to gag at the memory of the smell. “I’m pretty sure they were the Ragers we led there. Like maybe the Cagers shot them then piled them up before they split.”
Simon sat back
