Buck pushed off the table and shook his head. “I’m gonna hang back and try to keep Les under control. She’s pretty freaked about what happened.”
“No one could blame her,” Hatcher stated. “I told you not to run off.”
Buck nodded at the unsaid “toldjaso” then said, “Anyway, I’m gonna have to put in extra time with her to keep her from flipping out.” He glanced at Hatcher. “Next time, though.”
“Okay. We all have something to do. I suggest we get to it.” Hatcher dumped the last of his coffee into the wilting houseplant and stepped away from his desk. “We leave in ten.”
Andre flipped through the different files for each of the CDC staff. “No wonder these people survived.” He tossed the last file into a pile. “They’re not infectious disease specialists, virologists, or even geneticists.”
Carol rolled over on the narrow cot and reached to the folding table that held their dossiers. “What are they, then?”
Broussard referred to his notebook. “We have a hematologist, general biologists or chemists, and two social engineers.” He scoffed. “Why in the world would the CDC need social engineers?”
Carol sighed and tossed the folders back onto the table. “I felt underqualified working with you, but this list makes me look like an expert.” She glanced at him. “Why would you say ‘no wonder they survived,’ though?”
“Because they would have no business being around the infected or their tissue samples.” He sat back and huffed. “The closest thing we have to a colleague would be Higgins, and that man makes my skin crawl.”
She sat up and sifted through the files. “This one and Higgins.” She tossed him the folder.
“Who’s this?” He scanned through the contents than gave her a confused look. “She’s just a biologist.”
“Yeah, but I like her eyes.” Carol leaned back and wiped at her face. “If she’s as kind as she looks in the photo, maybe we can eventually milk her for information.”
Broussard raised a brow at her. “What kind of information?”
“Like a back door, a hidden escape tunnel.” She shrugged as she slowly came to her feet. “Surely there’s a secret way out of here.”
He shook his head. “This is a fortress designed to keep people inside after a nuclear blast. I doubt they have a secret exit.”
“You never know.” She stretched and looked longingly at the mattress. “I was thinking of trying to push my bed in here so we could bunk together, but it’s bolted to the floor.”
He gave her a knowing grin. “We’re being threatened with our lives and you’re thinking of ways we could…” He wagged his brows at her. “Hanky and panky?”
She snorted. “I was thinking that if we’re going to wake up each morning wondering if that is the day we’ll be killed, it would be nice to wake up in your arms.”
Andre felt his cheeks flush and he couldn’t resist the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That does sound nice.” He stood and pulled her close. “We’ll figure that out later.” He kissed the top of her head then pulled open the door to his room. “For now, get some rest. Morning will be here soon enough.”
Carol trudged back to her room and barely had the energy to drag her bag off of the bunk. She fell onto the thin mattress and rolled to her side, tucking her arm under the pillow. “Fix the Veep or die.” She yawned. “Yeah, no pressure there.”
Simon dragged himself out of the tiny sports car and stretched. His arm throbbed and he fished in his pocket for a pain pill. Lana appeared at his side and handed him two. “I never thought of myself as the ‘camping’ type.”
Simon washed down the pills then snorted. “This? This ain’t camping. This is ‘glamping.’”
Lana raised a brow at him. “Say again?”
“Glamour camping.” He nodded toward the larger RVs. “Satellite TV, whirlpool tubs, wetbar, full kitchen…glamping, baby.”
“If I can step out my front door and it’s the middle of the woods, it’s plain old camping. So, it’s a home on wheels. Who gives a shit where it’s parked, right?”
He walked slowly towards the first one. “The only thing they don’t do is drive themselves.”
Lana paused and pointed to the front of one. “This one has holes. Like somebody shot at it.”
Simon nodded knowingly. “I may have taken a few shots at some assholes out here.” He gave her a slight shrug. “Maybe we should look towards the back of the lot.”
She followed him to the rear of the establishment and wrinkled her nose at the offerings. “These are so tiny.” She tilted her head and studied the first one. “Is that a van hidden under all that crap?”
“Probably.” Simon pulled the door open and stuck his head inside. “Nice, though.”
“The closet at our house was bigger than this.”
Simon nodded. “You can live in this, but you can’t drive a house.” He held the door open wider. “Check it out.”
Lana gave him a droll stare. “Seriously?” She stepped back and shook her head. “This is so cramped. We might as well sleep in the Ferrari.”
Simon lowered his head with a sigh. “Look, the roads may be blocked in areas. We need something that we can weave in and out and take off-road if we have to.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I can tell you now that I’m not gonna like it.” She stepped inside and Simon followed.
“See? All the amenities.” He pointed to the foldaway two-burner stove. “Kitchen.” He stepped around her and pulled open a door. “Closet.” He spun and opened the other door. “Bathroom.”
“Christ, Simon! The toilet is literally in the shower.”
He grinned at her. “Kill two birds with one stone.”
“Gross.”
He pushed open the rear door. “And…bedroom.” He turned and bounced on the end of the bed, wagging his brows at her. “Comfy.”
She stuck her head into the makeshift bedroom nook and shook her head. “Grosser.”
“Come on.” He sat up and patted the mattress beside him. “We can
