Buck sucked in air and spat the remnants from his mouth. “Fuck me, I hate that taste.”
He rolled to the side and came up on all fours, the trash can directly beneath his face. He slowly struggled to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. He set the trash can in the shower and rinsed his mouth as thoroughly as he could.
He had just dried his face when Skeeter came back into the room. “Roger said…” She turned and saw him in the bathroom, his face pale. “Are you okay?”
“I throwed up.” He sounded like a child.
“That settles it. You’re going to the infirmary.”
“She’s probably already left, he moaned as she tugged him to the door.
“If she has, then I’ll drive your sorry butt to the new clinic.”
She push-pulled him down the hallway and kicked open the door of the clinic. “Vicky!”
Coop sat up in his bed and hooked his chin towards her office. “She’s in there, Squirt. What’s up?”
“He threw up.”
Buck gave her a look. “Just tell the whole world.”
Vicky stepped out of her office with a box in hand. “What happened?”
“He’s throwing up.” She practically dropped him into a chair outside the office.
“I think I’m done now,” Buck said, pressing a hand to his temple. “But my head is killing me.”
“Bring him inside.” Vicky stepped aside. “We need to do a work up.”
Buck groaned as the two women helped him to his feet. “No needles?”
Vicky smiled at Skeeter. “Only the big rusty ones.”
“Do the square needle in the left testicle!” Coop laughed.
“Contact!”
The truck lurched to a stop and Broussard braced himself on the bench with one arm while holding Carol in place. Both researchers were in shock as the soldiers piled out of the back of the truck, weapons ready.
“Don’t shoot!” Carol yelled as she scrambled to follow them. “For God’s sake, DON’T SHOOT!”
Broussard jumped from the rear of the truck and rounded the back, looking for whoever had caused the excitement.
Two people were shambling along the side of the road, their clothes in tatters and their skin covered in filth. “Screw this,” Captain Hilliard mumbled. “READY!”
The soldiers brought their rifles to bear and Carol stepped in front of them. “You WILL NOT!” She pointed a finger at Hilliard and glared at the soldiers.
Broussard marched passed and slowly approached the two. “Do you speak English?”
The male companion slowly moved the female behind him, his head nodding. It was obvious he was frightened as his hands trembled and his face was a mask of shock and fear.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Andre stated softly, stepping between the couple and the armed soldiers behind him. “Ignore them.”
The man stepped back and Andre slowed his approach. “We can help you.” He held his hand out. “And we’re hoping you can help us as well.”
“W-what do you want?” the man asked, still protecting the woman.
Broussard slowed to a walk and slowly closed the distance. “We can get you cleaned up and checked out. Food, clothes, whatever you need.”
“And in return?”
He lowered his face and sighed. “We’re researching the…situation.” He waved his hands in the air. “The ‘cure’ has had some unfortunate side effects for a select few.” He found himself standing nearly in front of the man and lowered his voice. “I’m told that when you were…infected…that you all spoke your own language?”
The man nodded slightly. “Sort of.”
“Excellent.” Andre gave him a disarming smile. “We’re hoping that if you listen to somebody who suffers from the side effects, perhaps you might could explain to us what she is saying?” He shrugged. “If anything.”
The man glanced at the woman and slowly shook his head. “I don’t know that I remember it.”
He held his hand out. “That’s okay.” He looked over his shoulder at the woman and gave her a soft smile. “If you could but try?”
“And then what?” the man asked, obviously distrustful.
“And then…” Broussard shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps you would allow us a blood sample?”
“I mean, do you set us free?”
Andre’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course. In fact…” he turned and stated loud enough for Captain Hilliard to hear, “I guarantee that if you assist us, we will see to it that you are driven wherever you need to go.”
Hilliard’s anger was obvious as he cursed and yelled at his men to stand down. Broussard smiled to himself as he turned around. “I can’t promise you the food is gourmet, but it does the job.” He stepped to the side and motioned toward the truck. “What do you say? I bet a hot shower and some fresh clothes sounds good, oui?”
The man turned and faced the woman, mumbling softly between themselves. When he turned back around he nodded. “Okay. But…no guns.”
Andre nodded. “The soldiers will not give them up. But I can assure you that we will not allow anybody to point them at you.”
The man stared at the uniformed men then slowly nodded. “Okay.”
“Very good.” Andre turned and escorted them toward the truck. “Tell your men to lower their weapons, Captain. We can return to the base.”
Hilliard glared at the trio as they approached then stepped aside. “I’ll be riding up front.”
“Thank you,” Broussard replied as he helped them into the truck. “I am certain that will put our new guests at ease.”
Simon paced nervously, his hand ready to go for his pistol. “I hate this.”
Lana handed him some pain pills. “You’re past due.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Besides, I need my head straight.”
She raised a brow at him. “You can’t think clearly if your arm is throbbing, either. Just take them.”
He took them from her and slipped them into his vest pocket. “If I need them, I’ll have them.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She gave him a stern look.
He pulled her aside and gazed into her eyes. “I know Trent. Actually, I know people like him. They don’t like having their dicks handed to them, especially publicly. They will be back, and I
