Roger looked around the house and shrugged. “Maybe I’ll take a look around at some of the others.”
Hatcher sat forward, his finger extended. “There’s one you’ll want to avoid. They had a damned parakeet or something in there. Big fucker. Shit on everything.”
Roger’s eyes widened. “A bird lived this long on its own?”
Hatcher shrugged. “Big bags of bird food and it drank the water out of an aquarium.” He gently closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Left his mark everywhere.”
“Okay. Mental note: don’t choose the bird doo house.”
Hatcher smiled to himself. “We didn’t check all of the houses, but Buck found himself a little sports car he wants to tinker on.” He leaned forward and stretched. “I could be wrong, but I think we’re looking at our future.”
Roger gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Just about any place could be our future now.” He lowered his gaze and sighed. “With the cure out and the threat of attack lessening with each and every day, we don’t need to live in a fortress.”
Hatcher took another swallow of the coffee and shook his head. “It’s not just the Zulus I’m worried about.” He raised a brow at Roger. “Remember the Marauders? Oh yeah…you rode with them.”
Roger nodded. “And if they rolled into a town that had a thriving community—”
“They’d sack it like the savages they are,” Hatcher finished. He stood up and twisted the cup back on the thermos. “Unfortunately, odds are good that there are a lot more ‘Simons’ out there, and we need to be prepared to defend ourselves.”
Roger nodded slowly. “I get that.” He looked up at Hatcher and shrugged. “I do. I’m just saying that with humanity on the mend, there will be a lot more decent folk coming around than there will Simons.”
Hatcher slowly shook his head. “It only takes one Simon to mess up a good thing, buddy.” He picked up the thermos and stepped toward the door. “They thrive on destroying what others build simply because they can. We have to be able to protect ourselves and our new lives.”
“Dr. Punch.” Carol extended her hand.
“Call me Tammy.” Her smile seemed genuine. “I’m so glad you made it.”
Carol’s face fell and she gave her a confused look. “I was under the impression that we had no choice.” She looked to Andre, who simply shrugged. “We were told that our lives were at stake here.”
Dr. Punch’s face went pale and she glanced to Broussard, who nodded slightly. “Oui. This is what we were told.”
Her head slowly began to shake and her eyes bounced between the two researchers. “No, that can’t be right.” She glanced toward the acrylic doors and noted the armed guards inside the steel entry. “Wait, you aren’t joking.”
Carol shook her head. “I take it you weren’t aware?”
Tammy seemed to sober and sat down on the stool, her hands shaking. “We were told you volunteered to come and help solve our problem.”
Broussard scoffed. “VolunTOLD is more like it.”
“Your Dr. Higgins seemed to take great joy in informing us of our…predicament,” Carol informed her.
Tammy’s eyes rolled. “He’s such a toad.” She came to her feet and her cheeks reddened. “He put himself in charge after the main researchers became infected. He claimed that—”
Her words were cut off as Higgins entered the acrylic walled laboratory. “I see everyone’s gotten the chance to meet each other,” he beamed as he kicked the door shut with his heel. He set a box down on the counter and turned to Broussard. “These are archived files from our…predecessors. I thought you might find some interesting factoids in them.”
Tammy had to bite her tongue as she stepped beside Carol. She leaned in close and whispered, “Do not trust him.”
Carol gave her a wide smile. “That won’t be a problem.”
“Ladies,” Higgins called as he tugged on his lab coat, “shall we begin?”
Carol nodded and stepped forward. “We need to determine the—”
“I believe Dr. Broussard is running this show,” Higgins interrupted, his smile broadening. “We shall all act as his assistants.”
Broussard stepped close to Higgins, using his larger size to intimidate the smaller man. “Dr. Chaplain is more than capable of running her own program. I suggest you treat her with the respect she is due.”
Higgins’ smile faded and he nodded quickly. “Of course.” He backed away slowly. “I only meant to—”
“Your intentions are of no matter,” Broussard interrupted. He turned to Carol. “You were saying?”
“Before I was so rudely interrupted…” She stepped around the mousy man and looked to Dr. Punch. “One of the things we need to assess is whether or not this new rage virus is contagious.”
“New?” Tammy asked. “Is it not a manifestation of the original, despite the cure?”
Broussard shook his head. “Non. We are convinced that it is a mutated form of the cure, an entirely new strain.” He glanced at Higgins. “Did you not share the data already collected?”
Higgins squared his shoulders and gave him a smug look. “She didn’t have clearance, nor the need to know.”
Broussard narrowed his gaze at the man and fought the urge to physically strike him. “Need to know?” He stepped closer causing Higgins to stumble over his own feet as he moved back. “Need to know?” he repeated.
Higgins nodded rapidly, his face flushing. “Yes, I had to determine—”
“You claim that you have been searching for a cure, or at least a treatment, to this secondary mutated virus and you didn’t bother to inform your colleagues of what they were facing?” Broussard had to force himself to keep a controlled timbre to his voice.
Higgins stepped back and stood taller. “Yes. I had to make an executive decision and—”
“I’ve heard enough,” Broussard stated flatly. “You are off the team.” He pointed towards the door. “Go. Now.” Higgins stammered and was about to plead when Broussard glared at the man and all but screamed, “Get out now or I’ll THROW YOU OUT!”
Higgins
