“They’re infected, Hatcher. They attacked us last night and nearly burned us all out.”
“But they didn’t,” Hatcher replied. “And if the cure works and—”
“That’s a pretty big ‘if’ there, dontcha think?” Hank leaned forward and tried to lower his voice. “I don’t mean to be butting heads with ya, boss, but it wasn’t that long ago that we would snuff any Zulu we came across. Now you want to give this bunch a pass, the very day after they tried to kill us all?”
Hatcher nodded. “Think about it, Hank.” He turned in his seat and eyed the man cautiously. “What if there are only tiny handfuls of survivors like us spread out there? What if, heaven forbid, we are it?” He shook his head slowly. “We need all the people we can save if we’re ever going to recover from Mother Nature’s foot in the ass.”
Hank ground his teeth and sat back, staring out the window. “I still don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.” Hatcher turned back to face the front. “But for now, it’s the plan.”
“Our mission is a go,” Miller said matter-of-factly.
Broussard dropped the pen he held and stared at him. “Seriously?”
Miller nodded and began to stack files. “And of course, we will be under armed surveillance the entire time.”
“Understandable precaution.” He wondered if the “armed” part was to keep him from running again or simply for their protection. “When do we leave?”
“First thing in the morning.” Miller stuffed the files into the cabinet then turned and gave him a solemn stare. “But I have bad news, as well.”
Broussard sat back and nodded to him. “Go on.”
“Your friend…Kevin?” Miller shook his head slightly. “The captain has decided that he should be eliminated.”
“You mean killed.”
Miller nodded. “Of course. He did, after all, kill two crewmen and attempted to eat one of them.”
Broussard shook his head. “He could still be useful as a test subject.”
“I thought so as well, but the captain is adamant. He will allow us to take as much blood and tissue samples as you think necessary.”
“But he won’t consider keeping the man alive?”
Miller sat down gently and studied the large Frenchman. “You hope to save him still?”
Broussard sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
“And if he can’t be saved?”
“I’d know that I tried.”
Miller thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think the captain can be swayed on this one. Our resources are running dangerously low.”
“I understand, but Kevin is only one man.”
Miller slowly came to his feet. “I don’t think they consider him a man any longer.” He glanced at the monitor of McAlester beating his forehead against the steel wall. “He’s little more than a human shark. A mindless killing machine.”
Broussard stared at the image on the monitor and as much as he hated to, he agreed with the simplistic description.
“How will they do it?”
Miller shrugged. “Probably a bullet to the brain. Throw the body overboard. I really don’t know.”
Broussard shook his head as he began to pack the files he’d need for the field trip. “I hope they take precautions. He could still possibly transmit the virus.”
Miller stood and began to pack his own materials. “I’m sure they’ll take that into consideration. In the meantime, we have a trip to ready ourselves for.”
Broussard glanced at the screen one last time then thought of Carol. He found himself smiling as he reached out and turned off the monitor.
Simon stirred slightly then nearly screamed as he rolled onto his wounded arm. He sat up instantly and his head swam from the painkiller-whiskey combo. He cradled the wounded arm and slapped at the floor beside him, searching for the pills.
They suddenly appeared, hovering in front of his face. He glanced up and the lone female shook the bottle. He took it from her and fished out a few. He tossed a couple into his mouth and chewed them while his eyes scanned the store. “The sun is still up.” He washed down the pills then turned to her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
She averted her eyes and gave him a slight shake of the head. “Bad dreams.”
Simon pushed himself up to a seated position and eyed her cautiously. “About the before?”
She nodded, still not meeting his gaze.
Simon rubbed at his stubbled chin then pushed himself up to shaky legs. He held his good hand out for her and she stood beside him. He turned and walked to the front of the store, his feet just behind the bright line of sunshine.
He slowly extended his hand into the light and waited for his flesh to burn. He could feel his skin warm, and he knew something was wrong. He stepped into the sun and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the light to cause him to run back, screaming.
He felt only warmth.
Simon turned and gave her a long, solemn stare. “You remember, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “Bits and pieces.”
Simon stepped closer and cupped her face. “You remember more than bits and pieces.” He wiped a tear from her cheek and pulled her gently to him. “Whatever makes us Quee is wearing off, isn’t it?”
She nodded against his chest.
“That’s why the other women left. They remembered.” She gave him a slight shrug but he knew. He could feel it in his bones.
Simon stepped back from her and sighed heavily. “I’m remembering the before, too.” He stared at her face and could almost see his ex in her eyes. Part of him wanted to dive head first into a whiskey bottle and forget her all over again.
She stepped closer and turned him slightly, checking his wound. “We need to dress that.”
He stared at her as she disappeared into the shadows of the store and for a brief moment, he lost her in the darkness. He blinked rapidly, trying to peer past the shadows but his night vision was fading.
She reappeared a moment later carrying a small first aid kit. “I
