“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she stated flatly as she marched past him.
He reached out for her but she evaded his grasp. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”
“Not until you tell me what’s crawled up your ass.”
She froze and slowly turned, her face a mask of anger. “What did you just say?”
Hatcher did a double take then took a half step back. “I’m just saying, something is obviously bothering you.”
“What do you care?” she barked. “So long as everybody does what you say, right? This whole park is yours anyways, right?” She threw her hands into the air. “Who gives a shit if that tiny outpost has been my home for nearly the last year. Let’s just grab what Hatcher says to grab and move it to his outpost so that he can keep looking for a long lost love interest who is probably dead anyway.” Her voice continually rose until she was practically screaming.
“Hold on just a minute—”
“No, you hold on!” She turned and practically spat in his face. “I don’t know who you think you are, but take a look around. If this was still the world it used to be, then yeah, you’re the man. You’re in charge. Even though you bailed and didn’t show your face for a frickin’ YEAR!” She turned for the door then turned back again, violently, her fists clenched. “And while we’re at it, I think somebody owes me a year’s back wages. PLUS INTEREST!”
Hatcher held his hands up and stepped back. “Okay…”
“Don’t you dare look at me in that tone of voice!”
“Christ. Somebody’s having a rough time of the month,” he muttered under his breath.
She froze mid step and turned to him, rage in her eyes. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”
He shook his head quickly. “Nothing.” He stepped back again, fear creeping up his spine. “Not a damned thing.”
“Oh yes you did.” She marched toward him, her finger out and jabbing at him. “Don’t you ever make a comment like that again. I’ll have you know that I survived out here on little more than emergency rations and my own damned wits.” She kicked gravel at him and shook with rage. “How dare you show up here and start barking orders at me!”
“Nobody’s barking orders at you.” He suddenly stiffened and glared at her. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think maybe you were catching this new Zulu virus.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “But it’s been a bit too long since you caught the cure, so I guess we can rule out the bug and just determine that you’re being a little bitch!”
Missy’s eyes narrowed then she suddenly chilled, putting a wee bit more fear into him. “Fine. I’m the bitch. Let’s grab all of YOUR stuff and move it to YOUR new outpost.”
“Now hold on a second.”
She clenched her jaw and he could see the muscle in her face twitch. “Say it,” she dared him.
“Say what?” He threw his hands in the air. “Fine. It’s YOUR outpost. Hell, you can claim the whole damned park for all I care. I’m just here to—”
“You don’t have to say it. We all know. You’re here to find Shelly Whatserface and drag her back to civilization. I’ve heard it a dozen times.” She crossed her arms angrily and glared at him. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe other people might like to go back to civilization? That maybe some of us would kill for a hot shower? That the idea of washing our hair in something other than Dial bar soap sounds like heaven on a stick to us?”
Hatcher opened his mouth to argue then quickly shut it. A hundred things flew through his mind, but none seemed really appropriate at the moment. He sighed and leaned against the truck. “I fully intended to offer you a ride back when—”
“You mean, ‘if,’ right?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “IF you ever return to New Mexico.”
He swallowed hard and nodded slowly. “Yeah. So sue me. This place always felt more like home to me.”
“Maybe to you.” She turned back to the station. “Let’s just grab your crap and move it. Maybe once you make up your mind what the hell you’re doing I can just take the truck and make my own way out of here.”
He watched her storm into the station and couldn’t think of anything to say to calm her down.
Maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn’t. All he knew was, his gut was telling him that it wasn’t time to leave just yet.
Carol nodded and Tammy twisted the valve, pumping the aerosolized psychedelics into the cells. “We’re at three hundred PPM,” Randy stated, reading the air monitoring meter. “Three fifty…”
“Meter it off at five hundred,” Broussard replied softly.
Irene stood outside the first acrylic cells with blankets in hand. “Their aggression is still rising.”
“Due to your proximity,” he stated. “Stand ready.”
David O’Dell held a stack of thermal blankets as the team increased the aerosols. “Yeah, I’m not seeing anything here but increased aggression.”
“Wait for it.”
“Five hundred,” Randy stated.
Tammy closed the valve and turned to Carol. “Closed. Standing by.”
Carol glanced at her watch then looked to Andre. “They should have responded by now.”
He felt his guts tighten and he looked at the clock on the wall. “Increase to six hundred.”
Tammy twisted the valve and Randy read off the increase in the cells. “Five-seventy-five…six hundred.”
Tammy shut the valve then reported it closed. “Why are they taking longer?”
Carol felt the color drain from her face. “What if the cure mutated?” She looked to Broussard. “Again?”
He shook his head. “I’m not ready to concede…increase it again.”
“To what?” Tammy asked.
He swallowed hard and set his jaw. “One thousand.”
Randy raised his brows but nodded to Tammy. “Do it.” She twisted the valve and he read off the levels. “Nine hundred fifty…one thousand!”
Tammy quickly closed the valve and turned to Carol. “Maybe the aerosolized treatment isn’t as effective as it was before? We could try direct injection.”
Broussard pushed past the others
