He nodded absently, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. “Maybe.”
She leaned toward him, her eyes searching his. “What is it? You seem distracted.”
He glanced at her then shrugged. “I’m just thinking. She could be out there. Anywhere.” Then he sat back and gave her a confused look. “And why would the Zulus stack bodies out here?”
Missy shrugged. “Why does a dog eat cat shit?” She gave him a crooked smile. “Maybe this is just in their nature.”
She kicked the ATV into gear and pulled away. Hatcher watched her for a moment and shook his head. “Just like Mitch.”
“It feels like forever.” Senator Winegard crossed her arms and glared at Tammy. “I don’t see why I can’t just go and put on some of my own clothes.”
“In due time, Senator,” Tammy repeated for the umpteenth time.
She leaned forward and whispered, “They didn’t even give me underwear.” She leaned back and scowled. “Can you imagine going commando in something like this?” She tugged at the cotton material.
Tammy shook her head. “No, ma’am, I can’t.”
David came into the lab and Tammy sighed. “Finally.”
David smiled as he took the clipboard from her. “Don’t get too excited. The food in the cafeteria isn’t so great. I think they’re running out of stuff to prepare.”
“No.” Tammy turned and gave him a steely stare. “I just couldn’t wait for a break from her.” She pointed to the woman on the exam table. “She’s driving me nuts with her petty questions and arrogant attitude.”
David nodded knowingly. “Go. Eat. Relax.” He tapped his chest. “I got this.”
As soon as Tammy walked out, the senator cornered David. “Would it really hurt anything if I went to my room and changed clothes?”
He chose to ignore her.
She huffed then tugged on his sleeve. “Excuse me.”
David turned and gave her a bored stare. “Look, we’re about to test the treatment on some of your friends over there. If it works, then trust me, you’ll be the FIRST to get to go to your room and do whatever you want. But for now, you listen to Dr. Broussard.”
She groaned as she turned around and lay out on the exam table again. “It’s so boring here.” She sat up suddenly. “And my ass is chafing in these…potato sacks that they call clothes!”
“We may have a cream for that,” David muttered as he checked the equipment. His head popped up as Broussard entered the lab.
“Are we ready?”
David handed him the clipboard. “The vapor levels are set. All we need is for somebody to press the button.”
“Very well.” Broussard went down the checklist then looked for Carol. “Where is Dr. Chaplain?”
“She’s getting a quick bite before we begin. She’s afraid she won’t get a chance to eat again for a while.”
Broussard nodded. “Smart move.”
“What are you about to do?” Winegard asked, sliding to the edge of the table.
“We are about to introduce a similar dose of the psychedelics to your friends over there.”
Her eyes widened. “ALL of them?”
He shook his head. “Non. Just a few.” He looked around the lab and made sure that the equipment was ready. “If the aerosol works, we’ll have a viable treatment and possibly a way to introduce it to others.” He pointed to the far wall. “The ones still out there.”
Her face lit up. “So you do think this is a cure.”
He shook his head slightly. “We have to verify the results. If it works, and if the subjects remain stable, and if—”
“But you’re thinking I’m cured.” A slow smile began to cross her features.
Broussard sighed as he lowered the clipboard. “I am thinking that if you begin to slip back to your former state, we will have ample time to reintroduce the cocktail to your system. As of now, it is all a waiting game.”
She sighed animatedly and crossed her arms. “Hurry up and wait.” She glared at him. “You should have been in the military yourself.”
Broussard shuddered. “I would not wish such a thing on anybody.” He turned to David. “You may press your button, Dr. O’Dell.”
Simon slowly paced the campground. He fought the urge to stare into the gloom and shadows of the trees as the sun began to set. He knew that the bikers were scattered between the main road and the campground. Most of them were ex-military and were pretty damned good at concealing themselves.
He gripped the radio tighter, praying that Trent and his goons were smart enough to simply leave well enough alone. He knew that they wouldn’t, but he prayed that they would.
The other campers had already called it a night and headed back into their trailers or RVs. The adrenaline pumping through Simon prevented any possibility of sleep.
He glanced at the moon then at his watch. It was nearly two in the morning. He knew that if Trent was going to make his move, it would be sometime between midnight and four.
How did he know? Because that’s what he would have done when he was angry and stupid. And Trent reminded him a lot of himself before the Rager virus changed him.
Simon scoffed at the idea that popped into his head. Did the Rager virus make me into a genius as well? Was I an idiot before…and now I’m smarter?
The radio in his hand clicked. He brought it closer to his ear and listened. Somebody keyed the mic again, sending a short bout of static to him in a silent message.
Simon waited then triggered the mic himself.
Their code was simple. If you spot anybody, key the mic. Once Simon keyed it back, each of the men were to key a certain number of times, letting him know which direction the threat was coming from.
Simon listened and heard three bouts of static. He scoffed again. The idiot was coming up the main dirt road.
Why not? It was the shortest and easiest path.
He keyed his radio again, acknowledging the message then turned the radio
