“See? She’s not dangerous,” Trevor said softly. “And she’s learning.” He bent low and gave her a broad smile. “Aren’t you, Peanut?”
Patricia smiled back at him and Hatcher felt a lump form in his throat. He quickly stood and eyed the pair.
“What do you say, boss? Can we squeeze in a couple more?”
Hatcher turned and stared at Hank. “This is…I mean, yeah, this is pretty damned remarkable. But…” he shook his head. “We have families in here, Hank.”
“They’re a family.” Hank crossed his arms. “And she’s as docile as they come.”
“Even pets can turn on you.” He shook his head slowly. “Just because she’s little doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous.”
Trevor quickly stood. “Hey, it’s okay. I understand.” He nodded to Hank. “I gave it a shot man. We’re gonna hit the road.” Hatcher watched as he scooped the child up and tucked her back inside the RV. “Buckle the thing, baby girl. Just like daddy showed you.”
Trevor stepped back and shut the door quietly. “Nice meeting you folks again.” He tipped his cap then reached for the driver’s door.
“You’re not gonna let them leave, are you?” Hank whispered. “They’ll never make it on their own.”
Hatcher stared through the side window as Patricia fumbled with her seat belt. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “We have to consider the others…”
Trevor started the RV and gave Wally a soft smile. He mouthed the words, “thanks anyway,” then pulled the gear selector into drive.
“I feel like shi-poopy.” Carol groaned as she pulled the wool blanket up under her chin.
Broussard shook down the thermometer then held it in front of her mouth. “Open.”
She raised her tongue and closed her mouth on the glass cylinder. “Vis isn’t nevessary.”
“Quit talking. And yes, it is necessary.” Broussard stared at his watch while she lay back and stared at the ceiling. “Give.” He reached for the thermometer and held it up to the light.
“Let me guess…”
“You are feverish.” He stood and spread a second blanket over her. “I’ll be back with liquids and anti-inflamatories.”
“I’ll be fine.” She pulled the second blanket up tight to her chin. “If Kevin can survive this crap, so can I.”
Broussard sighed heavily then pulled out his bag. “I’m drawing blood. I want to know if you have our modified strep.”
“I’ll be fine…” she trailed off as she stared at the syringe. “I don’t need a shot.”
“I was going to draw blood.”
She shook her head. “I don’t like needles. Just do a swab test. If it’s strep, my throat will be sore soon.”
Broussard sighed and dug into his bag again. “Fine. Swab it is.” He held the long handled cotton-tipped swab in front of her mouth. “You’ll gag.”
“Won’t be the first time.” She opened her mouth and he swabbed the back of her throat.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
She nodded and slowly closed her eyes. “I’m going to try to sleep off the worst of it.”
He patted her arm as he snapped the plastic cap over the end of the swab. “If you need anything, I’m right down the hall.”
She rolled to her side and he stood, leaving her alone in the darkened room.
Broussard made his way to the lab and quickly pulled on his lab coat. He dug through the supplies and found the rapid strep test kit.
He sat down at the stainless workbench and sighed heavily. He already knew what the results would be, but he opened the box anyway.
The door to the lab opened and the same Chief Petty Officer that narrated the SEAL’s retrieval of their equipment and supplies from the Kauffman appeared. “We’re setting up the monitors for the drop. Care to join us?”
Broussard nodded. “I’ll be along in just a moment.”
The Chief glanced around the lab. “Will your partner be joining us?”
Broussard opened his mouth to reply then slowly shook his head. “She’s a bit under the weather. I think it best if we simply allow her to rest.”
“Very well.” The Chief pointed down the hallway. “Second door on the left. We’re setting up in the back.”
“I’ll be along shortly.” Broussard pulled out the test strips and paused while the man left. He snapped the top off of the swab and brushed it lightly across the nitrocellulose test strip, ensuring to leave enough moisture to culture the sample.
He set the test strip aside and rose to his feet. He did a quick double take and shook his head as the line had already began to form, indicating a positive result.
“Welcome to your new world order, Dr. Chaplain.”
Sinner grimaced as the bike shook under his grip. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he was almost certain that he had ripped open his stitches. He was either sweating profusely under his shirt or he was bleeding again.
He slowed the bike and pulled to the side of the road. “I can’t.”
Shooter slipped off the saddle of his own bike and came to his side. “I’m telling ya man, we should have brought the shitbox car. This bike is…dammit.” He pulled his hand back, red with blood. “Dude, you’ve ripped open your sutures.”
“Too bad Stinky ain’t around to restitch me.” Sinner leaned back and sighed, using his good arm to adjust the bad shoulder.
“Listen…it’s light out so odds are the Ragers won’t be around. I’m going back to get the car. I won’t be five minutes. You just wait here.” He reached into his waistband and pulled out the pistol he had hidden. “This is for…well, just in case.”
“I know what a gun is for.” Sinner snatched it from his grip and fought to get off the bike. “I need to stash this out of the way. If Simon comes looking for us and sees it, he’ll burn it to just to spite us.”
Shooter glanced
