Broussard nodded. “Carol and I took turns watching over you.”
Kevin’s eyes widened. “Let me guess…I was your guinea pig.”
Broussard smiled and shook his head. “Not at all.” He stood and tucked the notebook under his arm. “We understand that strep is common and easily spread, and we were working with a strain to modify. There was a…slight chance that you’d contracted our modified version,” he shrugged, “obviously not.”
“How can you say ‘obviously not’?”
Broussard inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “We engineered our version to be asymptomatic. Since you had evident symptoms, it could not have been ours.” He gave him a tight-lipped smile. “However, we needed to ensure that you stayed out of the lab so that your common strep didn’t contaminate ours.”
“Oh, how thoughtful of you.” Kevin turned from him and reached for the knob. “Why is this locked?”
“You could still be contagious.” Broussard sat back down and slipped his glasses on again. “This ship is quite small, contains many people; none of them would care to share your illness.”
Kevin banged on the door. “You can’t keep me locked up, dammit.”
“You’re not ‘locked up.’ You’re quarantined.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty four hours after your throat is healed.”
“This is bullshit and you know it.” Kevin banged on the door again. “You can’t keep me locked in here.”
“Actually, it’s not my decision,” Broussard lied. “Captain’s orders.”
Kevin groaned then fell back onto his mattress. “Eew…it’s wet.”
“You were perspiring quite profusely.”
Kevin sighed then stood up. He flipped the mattress over and gave Broussard a triumphant grin. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
Broussard’s brows knit. “Why would you skin a cat?”
“It’s an expression.” He tossed his pillow back on the bed and sat down. “This really is bullshit.”
“Not my decision.”
“I could wear a mask,” he held his hands up, “and gloves.”
Broussard glanced at him over the top of his glasses. “Still not my decision.”
“I have experiments to check on.”
He nodded slowly then turned the page. “Dr. Chaplain is overseeing them for you.” He shot Kevin a smile. “You can thank her later when she relieves me.”
“That makes me feel so much better. Why do I need a chaperone?”
Broussard blew his breath out slowly. “Again, not my decision.” He closed the book gently and crossed his legs, staring at Kevin. “When the commander of this vessel orders that we stop everything and babysit you, we stop everything and babysit you. I will inform him of your condition and your offer to wear protection. I cannot, however, begin to guess his decision.”
Kevin banged his head against the wall. “Fine.” He collapsed on his bed and stared at Broussard. “So how’s your world-saving experiment going?”
“It’s on hold,” Broussard lied again. He turned and gave him his full attention. “However, if you truly want to know, we are attempting to mass produce the bacteria. Once we have a large enough sample to test, we’ll talk to the Powers That Be about possibly spraying an area that we are certain contains infected.”
Kevin nodded. “And if it doesn’t work, you’ll torch the place.”
Broussard shook his head. “It will work.”
“Using it untested…that’s not smart.”
“We can’t very well bring infected people here to test it on, now can we?”
Kevin shrugged. “We could do the tissue test.”
“It’s not the same.” Broussard sighed and set his book aside. “The virus primarily affects the central nervous system. The brain, especially. We need living subjects.”
Kevin nodded then sat up. “So, let’s get one.”
Broussard gave him a confused stare. “How? I already told you that they won’t allow—”
“You have the primordial sample still, right?”
Broussard nodded. “Oui.”
Kevin gave him a slight shrug. “Who’s to say that somebody couldn’t accidentally get exposed to it?”
Simon pulled out the map and spread it across the hood of the car. “Where would we set up if we were National Guard?”
Sinner shrugged and pointed at Albuquerque. “I would think there has to be something here. Maybe an armory.”
“Too bad we can’t know where.” Simon cursed under his breath.
“What about a yellow pages?” Shooter asked. “I know they still print them.”
Simon gave him a stupid look. “Happen to have one lying around?”
Shooter shook his head. “We could go to Albuquerque. It’s not that far. Surely somebody’s got one.”
Simon groaned and folded up the map. “Sure, why not. The world is overrun with cannibal zombies, but let’s go on a road trip.”
Sinner snorted and turned around, leaning on the car. “Dude, that’s all we did before we came here. We rode from town to town and stripped it clean like locusts.” He shrugged. “Let’s just go, man. Fuck these people.” He pushed off of the car and gave Simon a solemn look.
Simon stepped back in shock. “What did you just say?”
“I said ‘fuck ‘em.’ We don’t need them or their shit.” He pointed to the open road. “Look man, it’s clear during daytime now. The Crazies…they stick to the shadows until night. Imagine the damage we could do. We’d have all day to pick through other people’s shit. We don’t need what they got.”
Shooter nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Simon. We don’t need them or their shit. We can get our own. Maybe we pick up more people on the road, too.” He stepped closer, his eyes full of hope. “We build us an army and then, if you still want to come back and flatten these assholes, we flatten them.”
Simon pushed off the car and glared at them both. “Fucking mutiny, that’s what this is.” He slammed his fist down on the hood, putting a nice oval dent in the thin metal. “We leave when I saw we leave. We give up on the Cagers when I say we give up.” He turned in a quick circle, his mind not able to keep up with his anger. “They stole MY people! They got the goods, my goods. Mine!” He kicked the side of the car then turned and shoved a finger in Shooter’s face. “This is MY fucking town now. Understand?”
Shooter nodded quickly, his hands up in surrender as he backed away from him. “Yeah, Simon. I understand. I understand real good.”
Sinner watched the exchange and shook his head slowly. “You really are batshit crazy.”
Simon spun on him, his eyes wild. “What did you say?”
Sinner snorted a laugh. “You heard me just fine.” He stepped around the car and stared down at the smaller man. “But if we’re gonna stick around and fuck with these people, maybe crazy is what we need.”
Simon’s glare didn’t waver as he stared at Sinner. “Don’t call me crazy…ever.”
Sinner shrugged. “Hey, we’re all a little crazy these days.” He turned and shot Shooter a smile. “You’d gotta be just to put your boots on in the morning and carry on instead of eating a bullet.” He stepped around Simon and waved his good arm in the air. “The whole world has gone nuts and we’re even nuttier to stay in it.”
“Don’t ever call me crazy, man.” His face softened slightly and he kicked at the car again. “Get this piece of shit rolling. We need to find that National Guard place.” He pulled the door open and fell into the passenger seat.
Sinner glanced at Shooter and shrugged. “You heard the man. Carry on.”
“I wish I knew how you did that with them Ragers. I mean, no offense, but I don’t think they’d give two shits that you’re…well…special.” He set the box full of groceries down inside the door and pushed it as deep inside as he could reach.
“Tell ya the truth, I think it’s kinda cool how you stood up for us and all, I just wish you’d learn to listen.” He
smiled at her then turned back toward the grocery store.
A few moments later he reappeared with another box of canned goods. “I worry, that’s all. They could come back. They’re dangerous.” He paused and gave her a sad smile. “All I know is, I want out of this town. Muy-fucking-pronto. The longer we stick around, the higher the chance of running into them again…or Simon.”
He shivered involuntarily as memories came back to him. He swallowed nervously and shook his head. “I’d kill Simon before I’d let him hurt you.” He reached out and rubbed her head. “I promise. Nobody is gonna hurt my little girl.” He turned back toward the store, his jaw set. “Ever.”
Trevor appeared a few moments later with paper bags filled with items. He set them inside the door and wiped at his brow. “It’s warming up. And yes, it still smells like shit in there…just so ya know.” He gave her a knowing look. “We’re gonna have to work on getting you housebroke. An accident like that in here and…well, we’d just have to trade this thing in on another one. I don’t think we could get the smell out.”
He carried out the last of the goods and started stacking things inside the RV. “It’s nice to have air conditioning though.” He smiled at her as he crammed more goods into the cabinets.
He shoved items under the bed in the rear, inside the couches, and everywhere else he could find an empty cubby.
When he finished he sat up and looked around the inside. “I think we’re good to go.” He pointed to the small chair nestled behind the driver’s seat. “Let’s buckle you in. Safety first.”
He strapped her in then slid into the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition then glanced back at her. “Yeah, I really think we’re gonna be okay, kiddo.”
Chapter 4
Buck held Skeeter close as Candy and Vicky tried to walk Hatcher to his room. “What got into you Daniel?” Vicky chided. “It’s not even noon and you’re…” she trailed off, her eyes falling on the teenagers. “He’ll be okay.”
“I can smell him from here,” Buck said as he slipped away from Skeeter and took Hatcher’s arm from Candy. “I’ve got him.”
He walked the man down the hall and Candy pushed his door open. Buck walked him to his bed and dropped him on it. Hatcher groaned as he rolled over and pulled his pillow across his face to block out the sun.
Vicky pulled the blinds shut then waved the other from his room. She shut the door quietly and turned to Candy. “Let’s search the office. If there’s any more liquor, we take it.”
Candy turned and headed down the hall until Buck cleared his throat. “What’s wrong with him?”
Vicky hung her head, embarrassed. “He’s been drinking.”
“Obviously. My question is why?”
Candy sighed heavily. “He’s just got a lot on his mind, Buck, that’s all.”
Buck shook his head. “Naw, that don’t cut it.” He stepped toward the two women and lowered his voice. “That’s not the same guy I met at Yellowstone. He’s definitely not the same guy that brought me out of that hellhole.”
Vicky finally squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “He’s got a lot of worry on his shoulders right now. We’ve taken on these marauder people…and the move. And the attack. And…” She shrugged, her eyes beginning to water. “He’s been stressing since before the move. He’s afraid he’s missed something that he should have seen, but…” She turned to Candy for support. “We can’t convince him to let it go.”
Buck nodded. “He needs a break.” He glanced at Skeeter knowingly. “I’ll take over. Let him rest.”
Candy chuckled and shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but if anybody has to take over, it will either be me or one of the older people. Somebody with more experience.”
Buck raised a brow at her. “More experience? With what? Dealing with the Zulus?” He crossed his arms and smiled at her. “Have you forgotten that I lived in the wild with them at ground zero for months? And survived.”
She shook her head. “No, sir, I haven’t forgotten that.” She stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But you haven’t had to deal with human threats, have you? People like this Simon and his cronies. They’re more dangerous than the Zulus. They can think.”
Buck nodded slowly. “Okay. You got me there.”
“And no offense, young man, but I was a peace officer when you were still poopin’ in diapers.”
“Check and mate.” Buck smiled at her. “But if you need someone to help you run the place, I’m game.”
“And I’m sure you’d do a hell of a job.” She glanced to Vicky then quickly added, “But Hatcher won’t be giving up the reins any time soon. I’m sure once he sleeps this off, he’ll be right back to his same brooding, worrying self.”
“I hope not.” Buck took Skeeter’s hand and pulled her close to him. “We need the old Hatcher back.”
“Agreed.” Candy waved to Vicky. “Let’s go through that office and relieve him of any crutches.”
Carol stood outside of Kevin’s stateroom and spoke in a lowered voice. “His symptoms have disappeared?”
Broussard nodded. “Other than a slight sore throat, oui. He hasn’t even had any pain relievers.”
Carol sighed and leaned against the door. “Thoughts?”
Broussard shrugged. “Perhaps the genetic modifications we made? I truly do not know.” He gave her a weak smile. “But he keeps insisting that we release him. I told him that it was the captain’s orders to keep him quarantined to protect the crew.”
“Good thinking.” She crossed her arms and tried to think. “Are we prepared to call the test a success?”
Broussard glanced down the hall and shook his head. “To truly test this…we need someone infected.”
She nodded knowingly. “Perhaps he could come into contact with the virus ‘accidentally’?”
Broussard gave her a concerned look. “Funny you should say that. He suggested the exact same thing. Except he suggested a member of the crew.” He crossed his arms and stared at her. “What is it with you Americans that you are willing to use people so?”
She flustered and looked away. “If we’re confident in the cure, then it shouldn’t be an issue.” She turned back and stared at him.
“You are suggesting that we…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “That we deliberately expose a member of our staff to the very virus that decimated the human race?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. I am.”
Broussard sighed, his head shaking at her. “I cannot believe—”
“If it were anybody else, then no. But this is Kevin we’re talking about.” She pulled Broussard aside and glared at him. “It’s not exactly like he’s a productive member of our staff. I still don’t know why the Navy put him with us.”
Broussard glared at her. “Some might wonder the same of you, Dr. Chaplain.”
She stepped back and stared at him in shock. “I’ve helped you every step of the way during the—”
He held a hand up to stop her. “Of course you have. And I’m not suggesting that you are not a valuable asset.” He took a deep breath and his features softened. “I am simply stating that others might make that argument.”
“So what do we do?” She crossed her arms again and gave him an accusing stare.
Broussard shook his head. “There is no ethical next step without an infected subject.”
“Then it’s time to be unethical.” She pushed away from the wall and headed toward the lab.
“Where are you going?”
She turned and gave him a knowing glance. “To get Kevin something to drink.” She raised a brow at him. “Unless you intend to stop me.”
Broussard opened his mouth, then quickly shut it. He shook his head slightly. “Be cautious.”
Simon ran his finger across the map then turned to stare at the yellow page he’d ripped from the phone book. “It should be right up here.” He pointed ahead and to the left.
Shooter slowed the car and turned into the pa
rking lot. “Not very big, is it?”
Simon opened the door and stepped out, his eyes scanning the chain link fence that ran along the back of the building. “Where the fuck are all the tanks and shit?” He trotted to the fence and peered through it. “Just a handful of fucking Humvees.” He slapped at the chain link and resisted the urge to scream.
“Wait, you thought there’d be tanks here?” Sinner asked.
Simon nodded. “I remember as a kid…we’d drive by this place and they had a shit ton of Jeeps and howitzers and…” He cursed again then kicked at the fence. “They should have tanks here. Big fucking tanks.”
Sinner leaned against the fence and sighed. “If they had anything like that, they would have used them as a deterrent the minute the governor activated the units.” He glanced down the road and shook his head. “There’s no telling where their equipment got left.”
Simon pushed off of the fence and marched toward the car. “Then we do the next best thing.”
“What’s that?” Shooter asked.
“We make our own.” He fell into the car and slammed the door shut. “Load up.”
Sinner slid into the backseat again and eyed Simon. “What’s that look like?”
Simon tapped on the roof as his mind raced. “We need something big enough to take out their walls. Something that can go over or through their fences. Something that moves fast enough that they can’t respond or if they do, it will be too late.”
Sinner shook his head. “A train?”
Shooter grinned. “Your semi idea, ain’t it?”
Simon nodded. “We fix up a semi and drive it right up their asses.”
Sinner leaned to the side and eyed the man. “Fix up how?”
“We armor that bitch up. Make it so’s their bullets aren’t a threat.” He turned and gave him an evil smile. “Maybe we mount some machine guns to it.”
Sinner smiled. “You got any of those lying around?”
Simon shook his head. “Then we come up with a different idea.”
Shooter pushed the start button then paused. “Fire.”
Caldera Book 7: The End Is Here Page 3