He remembered every inch of his old office. The creak of his chair and the smell of the wood-lined walls were as familiar to him as his own hands. In his mind’s eye he glanced down at the wall calendar that he used as a desk mat. Scribbles and doodles lined the edges; messy notes were scrawled across the entire sheet. He was nothing if not a constant doodler when talking on the phone, and while it might appear to be the work of a madman, he also left meticulous notes between the abstract designs.
His mind traveled to the walls of his office, to the various awards and commendations framed and mounted. Most hung crooked, and while it might have secretly driven him mad, he left them like that just to mess with her.
He could almost see Shelly walking into the station, her duty belt swaying with her hips as she sashayed across the old wooden floor. Although he’d never admit it, he loved to watch her move. Fluid and graceful, seductive…she was mesmerizing.
“You can take the gal out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the gal!”
He smiled as he remembered the numerous times she’d stated that. As if he could ever forget where she came from. The warm drawl in her voice was like music to his ears.
He loved watching her pull that unruly mess of curls back and tie it off into a bushy ponytail. And though she never wore makeup, she had the freshest look of anybody he’d ever seen.
Hatcher sat back and stared at the two pistols laying on the towel. While his mind had traveled back in time and space, his hands had gone through the motions of cleaning and oiling both tools. He picked up the Glock and worked the slide, ensuring that his muscle memory hadn’t missed anything.
He smiled as he pulled the trigger and heard the satisfying click. The backup revolver was as smooth as ever.
He sniffed, and noticed that his nose was running. He pulled his sleeve down to wipe at his face. It was only then that he realized tears had tracked through the dust and whiskers on his cheeks.
He sat back and sighed, wiping at his eyes and silently praying that whatever God or the Fates had thrown at Shelly, she’d found a way to survive.
He folded the towel and stuffed it back into the box before closing the lid. He silently reloaded both weapons before standing and putting everything back where it needed to be.
He stretched out on the mattress again and fought the urge to scream. He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer for her: his deputy ranger, best friend, and the only woman that he’d ever allow himself to have feelings for.
“God, if you’re up there…please look out for her.” He sniffed back tears again and opened his eyes in the darkness. “Keep her safe.”
Because I’m not there to protect her.
Andre took a deep breath and gave Carol a slight nod. Her wide eyes told him that she was more frightened than he was, but she did as directed, and pulled the feeding door open.
Andre flexed his hand in the stainless steel mesh then thrust his arm into the hole. He was shocked at the strength of the small woman as she tugged at his limb, doing her level best to wrench it free from his torso.
He placed his other hand against the acrylic wall and pulled for all he was worth, praying that he was truly protected from her ravenous bites.
The screams that echoed through the laboratory had all the researchers on edge, the hair on the back of their necks standing on end.
It wasn’t until Andre fell to the ground, his arm still attached to his body, that he realized, the grand majority of those screams had come from him. “Shut it! Shut it now!” he yelled as he rolled over and struggled to come to his feet.
Tammy and Randy appeared at his sides, helping him to stand. “Are you okay?” Randy asked, stepping back and checking him for wounds.
“Yes, I think I’m…” He held his arm out and checked for blood. “I think the chain mail worked.” He flexed his hand again and winced at the pain in his ring finger. “Although I think she nearly bit my fingers off.”
Tammy unbuckled the straps at his shoulder and with Randy’s help, they slid the leather, chain mail and plastic armor from him. “This is so gross.” Randy muttered.
“Hopefully, in that grossness we’ll find the oral samples we need.” Broussard shook out his arm, hoping that he didn’t bruise from her grip. “Swab the entire thing.”
“I’m on it.” Tammy carried the setup to the workbench as if it were radioactive and set it down gingerly. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Andre double checked for bites then slipped his lab coat on again. “I couldn’t very well ask any of you to attempt such lunacy.” He stood upright and gave Carol a reassuring smile. “I’m all right.”
She narrowed her gaze at him as she marched past. “That was reckless.”
“Perhaps. But we needed the samples.”
Tammy held up a piece of uneaten…something. “I’m pretty sure we got them.” She dropped the chunk of partly chewed flesh into a petri dish and sealed it. “I have no idea what I’m even picking out of this mail.”
“You are picking out exactly what we need.” He picked up the petri dish and stared through the side of it. “Let’s get this cultured so we can run our tests.” He handed the dish to Irene. “Be careful, but be quick.”
He shook his hand again and glanced at David O’Dell. “Check out my finger; see if it’s broken.” He kept his voice
