“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” The young officer saluted then turned and all but ran from the office.
Vickers reached for a decanter and poured himself a short glass from it. He allowed the sweet, woodsy scent of the scotch to tease his nose before he threw it back and enjoyed the burn in his throat and belly. “We need somebody’s head to be on the block if this cure goes south and it damned sure won’t be mine.”
Dr. Andre Broussard gently pushed the door to the lab shut and locked it. He stepped to the window and pulled back the corner of a poster to peer onto the grounds below.
“All quiet?” Carol asked.
He nodded slowly. “I still have this horrible feeling that we’re being watched.”
“Watched?” She sat up and gave him a surprised look. “By the infected?”
Broussard shrugged. “Perhaps it’s simply paranoia.” He sat down heavily and rubbed at his eyes. “It has been a tiring day.”
“But we got a lot accomplished.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “The generator is fueled and operable. We got supplies, food and fresh water.” She stood and bumped him with her leg. “We’re almost ready to start—”
A scream echoed between the buildings, cutting her off. Both researchers knew that it was close and Broussard motioned toward the candle on the counter. Carol quickly snuffed it and the pair slowly approached the windows. Broussard pulled the poster back again and the two peered between the buildings. The moon had the night lit well and they saw a lone figure stumbling across the courtyard, its hands pressed to the sides of its head as though in intense pain.
“A side effect of the cure?” Carol asked.
Broussard shook his head. “Without examining the creature, who could know.” He winced slightly and rubbed at his arm.
“Something wrong?” she whispered.
He pulled his hand back and used the moonlight to study his palm. “I felt like I had been stung.” He glanced at his upper arm again before rubbing it. “An insect, I’m sure.”
“Should we try to observe this one?”
Broussard stepped away from the window and let the poster fall back. “No.” He slid down to the floor and leaned his head against the wall. “It is too early to make assumptions and we need to finish setting up our equipment before we try anything as foolhardy as capturing a test subject.”
She sat down next to him and closed her eyes. “It was still a productive day.”
“Oui.” He stretched his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer. “It was. But now we both need rest. Tomorrow will be an even bigger day.”
Simon watched his hunters trot into the darkness then turned his attention back to the people inside the store. He walked between the small clusters and pointed at different members. “You. You. You…” He waved them all towards the front of the building. “You all are going to earn your keep.”
Most simply stared at him, their gentle swaying made them appear as though each danced to the beat of their own song. He motioned with his head toward the parking lot. “Follow me.”
Simon marched past the abandoned cars and to a small stand of trees near the road. “Watch what I do.” He reached for a limb and snapped it from the trunk. He began to peel the smaller limbs from it then held it up for the rest to see. “This will become a weapon.” He turned slowly so that the men could see.
He bent low and sat on the edge of the curb, spreading his knees so that he could rub the end of the stick against the pavement. “We shape this to a point, see?” He held the stick up again and shoved the end toward each of the men. “This is a…a…” His brain throbbed in his skull as he struggled to find the right word. He could almost feel it, as though the fingertips of his memory could brush against the word, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
With a huff he stood and thrust the homemade spear at the closest man. “It’s a WEA-PON.” The man grunted as his hands gripped the shaft. He stepped back and stared at the red scratch across his middle. “You boys get to make more of these. Pick the straightest you can find and make them smooth.” He glared at each of the men. “Our people will use these against the humans.”
Most of the Quee men stared at him in confusion. “The slow stupid food…we kill them with these.” He snatched the spear from the man and held it out for the others to see again. “Go. Make as many as you can.”
Simon turned and marched back to the store. The people gathered at the open door parted as he stepped inside. “The rest of you, gather around.” He squared his shoulders as he stared at the assembled crowd. “We have our own job to do. Drop whatever you have and follow me.”
He turned and marched out of the store, his confused people following like faithful animals. Simon stepped outside and slowed, his eyes scanning the streets. He knew the mission, but his mind couldn’t quite connect the dots.
He stepped out to the intersection and made a slow circle as his memory did its best. He could see in his mind what he was looking for, but he couldn’t quite remember what or where it was, nor how to achieve it; the concrete idea wouldn’t form.
A slow growl formed in his throat as he continued to spin slowly. Suddenly he stopped and a wicked smile formed, pulling the edges of his mouth tighter. “There.” He pointed down the road. “Follow me.”
The group fell in pace behind him and had no idea where they were going as he marched them down the street. Simon marched them across another parking lot and to the shattered front doors of another building.
His naked girlfriend
