Kevin’s eyes widened. “You really think that’s going to work?”
Broussard nodded then pulled his tray close again. He stuck the spork into what looked like a chicken pot pie casserole and sniffed it. “It should work, in theory.”
Kevin took a sip of the watered down orange drink that the sailors called bug juice and eyed him carefully. “How will you test it?”
Broussard shrugged. “I wish we had test subjects, but…” his voice trailed off.
“Dontcha think you should test it before you just release another version of the virus out into the world?”
“Technically, it’s not a virus.” Carol corrected.
“Right…it just nullifies the existing virus by using bacteria as a delivery system, got it.” Kevin shoved another sporkful into his mouth. “But you should still test it first, right?”
Broussard nodded. “We should. I just have no idea how to do that under current circumstances.”
Kevin tilted the plastic cup up and drained the bug juice. He belched loudly and set the cup down. “Judging by the sunny disposition of the people in charge here, I doubt seriously they’ll let you bring another infected person aboard ship. The risk is too high.”
Broussard nodded. “Agreed. The risk is too high.” He took a tentative bit of the food then reached for the salt. “However, there are other ways to test the CRISPR modified code.”
Kevin leaned forward. “Like how?”
Carol interjected before Broussard could respond. “Like maybe we have them deliver the payload to a limited area. Then we monitor the infected and observe the effects.”
Kevin shook his head. “And if your treatment makes things worse? Then what?”
Broussard set his spork down and gave him a serious look. “Then they sanitize the area and we start over.”
“Sanitize?”
“Burn it,” Carol stated as she sporked a chunk of chicken. “All of it.”
Kevin leaned back and shook his head. “We need a media that we can test here, without risking the rest of the world.”
Carol raised a brow at him. “Are you volunteering?”
“Hell no!” Kevin came to his feet. “Don’t even joke about that.” He picked up his tray and gave her a sly grin. “Too bad we don’t have living tissue samples of the infected. We could test them in the incubator.”
Broussard looked to Carol and gave her a knowing look. “How long would it take to get living cultures growing in media?”
She shook her head. “Depended on how large the donor sample was.”
“Speak to your yeoman friend. Perhaps he can find us a volunteer.” He smiled at her knowingly.
Carol nodded. “As soon as we’re done eating, I’ll do just that.”
Broussard turned and nodded to Kevin. “Apparently you aren’t as useless as I originally thought.”
“Thank y—” Kevin stammered for a moment. “Wait…what?”
“Relax, Dr. McAlester.” Broussard lifted his glass to him in salute. “I was only teasing.”
“Ah.” Kevin turned from them and set his tray in the window by the door. “Yeah, some joke.”
As Kevin stepped out of the mess decks, Broussard turned his attention back to Carol. “It’s either grow tissue in media or we find an unwitting specimen.”
Carol shrugged. “Or we do both.” She shoved the chicken chunk into her mouth and gave him a smile. “Maybe Dr. McAlester can be more helpful to us than he knows.”
Simon slammed the door behind him and went to the window. “Tell me we lost them.”
Shooter nodded. “Pretty sure we did.” He fell onto the loveseat and blew his breath out hard. “But if that stupid car were any louder, I’m sure they would have figured out where we’re staying.”
Simon pushed past Sinner and Shooter and sat down quietly on the couch. “Stupid Ragers are every fucking where once the sun goes down.”
Sinner sat up in the chair and gave him a questioning look. “So? What’s the verdict on the light show?”
Simon smiled. “It’s an old folks home. There’s kids there and…” he trailed off. He tilted his head as his mind tried to connect dots through the haze of alcohol. “Tell me something. Did any of those kids look familiar to you?”
Shooter shrugged. “A kid is a kid, man. What do I care?”
“I mean, did you recognize any of them?” He scooted to the edge of the cushion and a slow smile began to form. “I ain’t positive, but I think some of them might have been my kids.”
Sinner raised a brow. “You got kids?”
“No mine mine, but…mine. Part of our group.”
Shooter shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. All kids look alike to me. Little ankle biters…”
Sinner lowered the footrest on the chair and eyed Simon. “You think that’s where the Cagers ran off to?”
Simon nodded. “Makes sense. They’re still close by but far enough away that you wouldn’t just stumble on them.” He tapped at his chin then came to his feet. “I need a bottle so I can think.”
Sinner groaned as Simon marched past him and out into the garage. He reappeared a moment later swinging a bottle of cheap Scotch. “I’m getting low, boys. We’re gonna have to do some shopping pretty quick.”
“Oh, of course.” Sinner moaned. “Fuck the fact that we’re almost out of food, we need to find booze for Simon so he can keep his buzz going.”
Simon kicked his boot as he walked by. “Trust me, the hooch is the only thing that keeps me from killing everybody.”
“Fine. We find your hooch.” Sinner watched as Simon cracked open the bottle. “Until then, what’s the plan with the Cagers?”
Simon took a long pull then set the bottle down. “Shooter came up with an idea to deal with them.” He nodded to the smaller man. “Tell him.”
“Okay.” He sat forward and wiped his face with his hands. “So, they have this big wall all around the place. Security cameras and the like. Outside of that, they’ve put up this big chain link fence.”
“What is it with those people and chain link fences?” Sinner asked.
Shooter shrugged.
