Trent’s face went slack and his eyes turned dull. “The only single woman down there is old enough to be my grandmother.” He turned and gave Simon a dark stare. “But the married ones aren’t.”
Simon raised a brow. “And if they refuse?”
Trent nodded slightly. “We won’t take no for an answer.”
17
Buck pushed open the door to Vicky’s lab and she came to her feet when she saw the old man, who looked distinctly like a Zulu, being ushered inside. “Where’d he come from?” she asked as she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.
“He wandered into the neighborhood while we were working.” Roger helped the old man into a chair then stood upright, stretching his back. “We checked the new clinic, but you weren’t there.”
“I was preparing the records.” She snatched her stethoscope from a nearby stand and hooked it over her neck. “My name is Vicky. And you are?”
The old man looked up at her with red eyes. “Ed,” he sniffled. “My wife called me Eddie.”
“Okay Eddie. I’m gonna give you a once over, okay?” She breathed onto the surface of the stethoscope and pressed it to the thin skin over his bony chest. “How are you feeling, Eddie? Can you breathe in and out normally for me?”
He stared off into nothingness while Vicky listened in various spots. “Okay, Eddie, can you take some deep breaths for me now? I need to listen to your lungs.”
Eddie continued to stare into nothingness but Roger saw his chest rise and fall as Vicky moved the stethoscope. She dropped the end and pulled a pen light. She looked briefly into his ears then tugged gently on his jaw. “Wow. A man of your age and you still have your teeth.” She smiled at him. “Impressive.”
Eddie nodded slightly until she stood in front of him. “I need to look into your eyes. The light might be a bit bright, okay?”
He gave her a blank stare and she whisked the light in front of his pupils quickly a few times. “Pupils are normal. He doesn’t show any signs of photosensitivity.” She reached to a glass jar and pulled out a wider version of a popsicle stick. “Say ahh.”
He opened his mouth and she depressed his tongue, checking his throat. She withdrew the stick and dropped it into the trash. “The good news is, you look healthy as a horse.”
He looked up to her expressionless. “What’s the bad news?”
She smirked. “You desperately need a bath.” She nodded to Buck. “Do you feel like helping him to a shower? Maybe dig some clothes out that will fit him?”
Buck stepped forward. “Sorry…I never thought to ask your name.” He held a hand out to old man. “Nice to meet you Eddie. I’m Buck.”
The old man’s withered hand took the offering and Buck helped him from the stool. “As soon as he’s cleaned up, we’ll come back.”
Vicky watched them leave then turned to Roger. “Why did you bring him here?” Her eyes were wide and she seemed nervous.
“Hey, he needed help, Vic.” Roger sat down and tried to steady his hands. “He was coming back to his house, looking for a wife that was long gone.”
“She’s probably infected and—”
“Dead, Vic.” Roger crossed his arm and cradled his wounded one. “She never crawled out of bed.” He glanced toward the hall where the old man had disappeared. “He kept saying she needed him to give her medication, that she wouldn’t take it on her own…” He looked up at Vic. “He told us that she wouldn’t get out of bed at all unless he made her do it.”
“And that’s where you found her?”
Roger nodded. “He found her. I was still searching downstairs with Buck to see if she might have left a note.” Roger hung his head. “It was the saddest thing I’ve seen in a very long time.”
Vicky nodded knowingly. “A lot of people will be going through a very emotional time once the virus is mitigated.” She sat down next to him and patted his hand. “I guess it was a good thing you were there.”
Roger looked at her and there were tears in his eyes. “I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Nick.”
“I understand.” She slowly sat up. “The big question is: what do we do with him?”
Roger gave her a dumbfounded look. “We take care of him until he’s able to care for himself.”
Vicky raised a brow. “We have no legal recourse here, Roger. We can’t hold him against his will.”
Roger came to his feet and stared at her. “Legal? Jesus, Vic, have you looked outside? There is no law anymore.” He pointed toward the hallway. “Helping him to get back on his feet…it’s not a legal thing, it’s a moral one.”
“I understand that.” She stood upright and crossed her arms. “All I’m saying is, if he doesn’t want to stay with us, there’s nothing we can do or say that can force him to. He’s not a prisoner.”
Roger’s mouth opened and closed as his brain tried to think of a response. He turned and stared at the door for a moment then turned back to her. “I can’t let him hurt himself just because his wife is dead.”
Vicky placed a well-intentioned hand on his shoulder. “I’m just trying to prepare you, Roger. If he has it set in his mind, we’re not equipped to deal with those sorts of mental health problems.” She tried to give him an understanding look. “All we can do is be supportive and help him get his feet back under him.”
Roger was breathing heavily as he stared at her. “You’re wrong, Vic.” He stepped toward the door and gripped it. “There’s something we can do.”
He jerked the door open and disappeared into the hallway. “Roger!” she called out to him but he ignored her. He was a man on a mission.
“Dammit,” Carol muttered. “I can’t even get a good blood protein profile.” She pushed away from the workstation and
