“This recording will repeat in fifteen seconds.”
Hatcher pulled the headphones from his ears and looked to Roger. “Has anybody told Vic yet?”
Roger shook his head. “We thought you’d want to know first.”
He handed Mike the headphones then turned to Candy. “Let Vicky know what the message said and let’s arrange for somebody to go around and retrieve the meds that she’s already handed out.”
“Should we tell them what the message said?” she asked as he stepped away.
He shook his head. “Not yet.” He rubbed at his chin. “For now, we need to just collect the meds. If this ‘cure’ doesn’t work, we don’t need people to lose what little hope they have.”
“So what do we tell them?”
Hatcher paused and gave her a slight shrug. “See if Vic can come up with a viable excuse to pull their meds. Maybe they’re so far out of date that they’re dangerous? I honestly don’t know.” He patted her shoulder. “I’m sure that the two of you can come up with something good.”
Candy watched him walk away and gave Roger a confused look. “You’d think he’d be more excited.”
Roger turned and watched Hatcher disappear around a corner. “Maybe he’s just being a pragmatist.”
Carol woke with a start and blinked rapidly, her head whipping side to side. “Andre?”
“I am here. I thought it best to let you rest.” He stepped from around the workbench in the middle of the lab and handed her a cup of hot coffee. “Apparently, the lab uses compressed propane rather than natural gas.”
She accepted the mug and inhaled deeply of the rich aroma. “It’s the little things, isn’t it?” She took a sip of the bitter liquid then gave him a confused stare. “Where did you find coffee?”
He nodded behind her. “At one time there was a lounge back there. I found two bags of unopened coffee. There were also five, gallon bottles of water. The Bunsen burners did an adequate job of boiling it.” He gave her a self-satisfied grin.
“Necessity is the mother of invention.”
“Oui. This is true.” He settled in next to her and sipped at his own cup. “Unfortunately, there was only powdered creamer.” His face twisted into a grimace. “I could not do such a thing to the elixir of the gods.”
“Agreed.” She sat upright and stretched slightly. “I don’t think the floor agreed with my body, though.”
“Relax.” He nodded toward the barricaded door. “After you fell asleep last night I heard a few more screams, but none from within the building.”
“Did you sleep?” She already guessed the answer based upon his swollen eyes.
“Some but not much.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, his cup cradled in both hands. “I preferred to stand watch until I felt we were safe.”
She took a long drink from her cup then pushed up from the floor. “We have a lot to do today and I think I can do most of it.” She pointed at him. “You should sleep while you can.”
He shook his head and slowly came to his feet. “We have propane gas. We have no water other than the few bottles in the lounge and we have no power.” He studied her carefully. “The safest place to put a generator would be the roof. Even if you locate one, you would need help getting it placed and the power cords run to the lab.”
She pressed her hand to his chest and held him back. “First, I’ll look in the basement. There’s a strong possibility that there’s a generator in place. If so, I’ll either start it and the grand majority of our problems are solved, or I’ll find fuel for it. Either way, I can handle that part on my own.”
He shook his head vehemently. “No. Basements are dark and we know where the enemy prefers to remain.” He swallowed painfully and patted his pockets for the analgesics. “My throat is so raw.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Mine is starting to feel better. Maybe it’s nearly over.”
“Or maybe you are trying to change the subject.” He stiffened slightly and squared his shoulders. “Either way, you will not be going to the basement without another pair of eyes to watch your back.”
She sighed and nodded. “Fine.” She looked up and smiled. “But first, another cup of go-juice. If I have to run for my life, I’d rather do it caffeinated.”
Simon rifled through the boxes and plastic bottles. He’d hold one to his face and try to make sense of the markings but they were unfathomable.
He twisted the lid off and poked through the thin, foil tamper indicator before holding it to his nose. He wasn’t sure the name of what he was looking for, but he was more than familiar with the smell. Bottle after bottle he’d open and toss aside until he found the smell he was looking for.
Finally, Simon tilted a bottle back and chewed at the bitter aspirin, praying that whatever it was called, it would help with his sore throat and aching head.
He reached for the bottle of brown liquor and washed the bitter paste down, grimacing as the liquor burned both his throat and his belly. He sat down heavily and placed the bottle between his legs. He stared at his people, sleeping in the shadows, their quick breathing reminding him of a panting dog.
He took another long pull from the bottle then screwed the lid back in place. He pushed up from the floor and made his way to the bags of dog food that served as his bed. He lay down next to the lone, thin woman and she turned over instinctively, wrapping her arm over his middle.
Simon stared at her and something caused him to reach out and tuck a stray strand of her thinning hair behind her ear. He stared at her and knew that at one time in her life, she’d been pretty. Maybe it was the
