He nodded, his mind knowing the facts, but his heart not willing to give up hope. “I know.”
“Then move on.” She patted his hand. “There are plenty of single women in the group that—”
“No.” He pulled away from her. “I know what you’re trying to do and…” He paused, trying to choose the right words. “Look, I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m sure Coop is a great guy. But I’m not ready to take that step yet.”
“Daniel, I’m not trying to force your hand.”
“It feels like it.” He stood up from the chair and reached for the box. “I have stuff to unpack.”
“Is that your way of saying get the hell out?” she smirked.
He shook his head. “Feel free to stay as long as you want. The cafeteria ladies packed me a couple of sandwiches. They’re in the cooler.”
Vic stood and gave him a worried look. “I’m right across the street if you ever want to talk.”
“I know.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “You should unpack, too. You got a lot more stuff to deal with than I do.”
“Yep. Definitely a ‘get the hell out.’” She turned and waved over her shoulder. “Just remember, I know the general health of all the ladies.”
“Good night, sis,” he called. He watched her leave then went to the front window, ensuring she made it across the street safely.
He turned back to the hallway and pushed open the door to the master bedroom and set the box down in the candlelit gloom. He dug to the bottom, finally pulling out the framed photo of Mitch, Shelly and him standing in front of the station. He set it gently beside the bed and stared at the image for a moment. “I miss you guys.”
Feeling suddenly drained, Hatcher lay out on the overstuffed mattress and closed his eyes. As images of better days flashed through his mind, he did his best to ignore the twisting feeling in his guts.
“There are other options.” Carol spoke softly, doing her best to keep their conversation private.
Broussard sighed and turned to her. “What do you think they’ve been feeding them?” He pointed to the individual cells that the politicians were secured in. “There is evidence of other…protein mixed into the filth at their feet.”
“You can’t just march into the general’s office and ask him who they’ve been sacrificing to feed their guests.”
“Sacrifice?” Broussard rolled the word around in his head for a moment. “That’s probably quite accurate. They hang far too much importance on the heads of their politicos.”
“You know what I mean.” She blew her breath out hard and pressed a hand to her temple. “I understand that he gave us control of the lab, but that doesn’t give us carte blanche.”
Broussard raised a brow at her. “Have you considered the broader ramifications of us finding their beloved cure?”
She paused and gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“We know, Carol.” He stared at her, praying she would connect the dots and he wouldn’t have to spell it out.
“I don’t follow.”
He sighed heavily and pulled her aside. “Say we find their cure, oui? Then what?” He tugged at her shoulder. “We know too much.”
She continued to stare at him, her mind rebelling. “What are you saying?”
“We know that Green allowed Higgins to test on healthy humans. We know that they’ve been feeding them…something to keep them alive this long. We’re not blind. We can see the aftermath of these feedings. Do you really think they’ll allow us to live with this knowledge?”
Carol swallowed hard and turned and thrust her chin out at the other CDC personnel working in the lab. “What of them?”
“They didn’t have need to know, remember? Now I understand why Higgins kept them in the dark about everything.” He leaned on the counter and stared at her. “Perhaps part of it was his abuse of power, but I’m beginning to believe that he was protecting them from Green.”
“Plausible deniability.”
Broussard nodded. “Or criminal stupidity on Higgins’ part. Either way, their lack of insight might have been the only thing keeping them alive, assuming they, one day, get what they want.”
Carol felt her hands shake as she sat down, her legs refusing to cooperate. “Either way, we’re dead.”
“I would bet on it.” He sat down beside her. “It wasn’t until I got closer to the cells to observe their physical symptoms that I noticed the clothing scattered about the floor.” He held his head in his hands and groaned. “I saw pieces of bone and…a shoe, an extra shoe. This can only mean one thing.”
“They’re feeding them people.” The words caught in her throat as she spoke them.
“Whether dead or alive…it doesn’t matter,” Broussard whispered. “Just like McAlester. He craved human flesh, and that is exactly what they are eating.”
She looked up at him, panic in her eyes. “What do we do?”
“As we originally planned. We play along. We work as diligently as we dare.” He glanced at the others in the lab and sighed. “And if the day comes when we think we are about to make a breakthrough, we find a way to get out.”
Carol turned and stared at the large steel blast doors. “Do you really think that’s a possibility?”
“We’ll know soon enough.” He glanced at his watch. “If they hold to their end of the bargain, we should be getting our time outside within the hour.” He stared at her. “Memorize everything you see. We can’t expect to devise a plan immediately, but the more we see, the more we make note of, the better our odds—if the time ever comes.”
She nodded slowly. “Understood.”
“How’s the arm?” Veronica asked.
“Hurts,” Simon grunted. He looked at her and his features softened. “I didn’t thank you before…”
“You were in a lot of pain.” She sat down beside him, a cold beer cradled in her hands. “And high as a kite.”
He scoffed. “Not high enough. It still hurt like hell.”
“Sorry.” She took a swig and leaned back in the
