by catt dahman
If there were no mistakes or blunders, then all the guests would enjoy a free holiday with delicious meals, expert service, many activities, and a relaxing week of fun. However, among the guests were several who were referred to by the research team as either A’s or D’s, and within their bodies, they carried an infection that they could only pass on via bodily fluids.
They knew.
The subjects were often warned that they were potentially contagious and must refrain from any behavior that could spread the infection. They had to be responsible. If they were, the week would pass as a fun time for all, and no one would be any wiser; however, if the subjects refused their responsibilities and wavered, and if the infection were unloosed, a wave of extreme violence and infection would be set free.
If the Zed infection spread, then it was possible Major Reid’s predictions might come true.
Parce wanted very badly for this experiment to fail all negative predictions.
In the lobby, Peri finished checking into her room. Her friends from college were meeting for a reunion, and they had booked three of the rooms, “Can you stop scoping out the boys for five minutes?” Peri asked Rhonda, one of her closest friends. She didn’t say it hatefully, but laughingly; her friend always searched for boys.
Peri was trying to juggle her room key and look at the map of the lodge and see everything at the lodge. It was gorgeous, but the map and brochure showed a beautiful pool and woods with trails; she couldn’t decide what she wanted to see first.
“I’m not scoping. Much,” Rhonda said. She tucked her map away and continued to look around and pose prettily.
Rhonda was gorgeous, and all the boys flocked to her. Peri wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, but if she met a nice, good-looking guy on vacation, well, that was great. It was always possible to meet a nice person, but Peri wasn’t betting on it, not looking for Mister Right.
Feeling sloppy as she watched Rhonda, she tucked in her emerald tee shirt, smoothing it, hitched up her jeans, then plucked them down again, and considered how she had worn hiking boots for comfort and, well hiking, and her friend had worn high-heeled, strappy sandals. Rhonda looked cute and fun; Peri could imagine a man would notice her first.
Peri sighed.
Rhonda laughed, jutting a hip to one side for a fetching pose, in case anyone were watching her. She tossed back a mane of white-blonde, bleached hair and imagined several men moaned with interest, “Five? Whole minutes? That’s asking a lot, Peri.” She shook her head, determined to give Peri a makeover. The jeans and boots were sad-looking compared to her short, floral sundress and delightful sandals she had paid a fortune for and that were killing her feet. It didn’t matter. Rhonda had a perfect tan (with no lines, thank you very much) and smooth legs, nice feet, and a perfect pedicure with tiny trees on her toenails for the trip to the lodge.
Peri hid a smile. Rhonda had professionally colored hair, an expensive, impressive boob job, and a nose alteration, and she worked out and tanned like a fiend. She had bright, acrylic, coral nails, and she whitened her teeth with a kit from her dentist several times a week. Beauty was time-consuming, expensive, and probably painful.
Peri giggled.
“What?”
“Just thinking of how much of you that you’ve changed, but you’re still the same ole R-R-R Rhonda.”
“No college nicknames allowed,” Rhonda warned with twinkling eyes.
“Ah, rules are made to be broken. R-R-R Rhonda.”
“Grab your bags. We don’t need them carried for us,” Shan got her bags off the rug and headed for the staircase. In tight, faded jeans, a bright blue bustier with silk ribbons, and a pair of Chuck Taylor sneakers, she knew she looked the hottest, and as far as she was concerned, that was settled in her favor. “Show your independence, ladies.”
Lisa groaned more as she followed, “Shan, you are such a you-know-what.”
“Thank you,” Shan snapped back happily. She went for sexy comfort; her feet felt great. Showing off her sneakers, she laughed at the rest.
“Oh, no, you don’t. If I’m carrying my own to the third floor, at least we can take the elevator,” Rhonda grudgingly picked up her bags, handing one to Shan and taking two, “Seriously.”
“You’re a cruel woman, Shanisha,” Peri said.
“That’s why you love me. You love the wicked side that gets your ass in gear and makes you work that body. Work it, work it…la la la.”
“I need ear bleach. Shan, stop that noise.”
“It’s singing, Lisa.”
“You sound like a dead dog, Shan,” Peri called out.
“Dead dogs can’t sing,” Shan sang back.
“And neither can you,” Peri laughed and dodged as Shan pretended to swat her.
The eight women found the elevator, let some go ahead, and then piled in, teasing one another. Upstairs was a crowd of people waiting to find their rooms, stopping to look around and stare out windows because there was a lot to see and take in. Everything was beautifully decorated. The young women laughed and took it in stride; there was no rush. Guests were reading maps and reigning in children, looking for room numbers and chatting.
Peri and Dana were roommates in college and extremely close; they never had a secret from one another and talked daily, like sisters would.
Rhonda was the wild child and the one whom they all worried over, but she had a huge heart, and sometimes she watched over others, and sometimes she needed to be saved from her own goodness. Men flocked to her while women hated her instantly unless they got to know her sweet nature and kindness.
Shan was like a mother hen, making sure everyone slept well, ate properly, and checked in after dates, and she gave advice. She was the workout queen, friendly to a fault, and fearless with every adventure she discovered. She often threw herself into situations that were hard to deal with, but Shan always wanted to help others.
Mira and Connie were grinds in college, meaning they studied all the time or read books endlessly in the library; they hadn’t attended all the parties or had all the adventures with the rest, but they were always there to study with their friends and just talk if someone needed a good listener.
Bristol was Peri’s second best friend, a little undependable and scared of her own shadow, but she was all heart. Lisa was the prettiest; she was the one they all wanted to be, and she constantly showed them new beauty secrets and the magazine covers that she designed, told them whom she partied with, and shared pretty clothing and make-up she got for free. Lisa’s give-away clothing was always designer brands and beautiful; it was a huge deal to be given shoes, handbags, blouses, and dresses, but each girl always got a three or four dozen gifts a year from Lisa.
In college, they stayed together as if glued, through boyfriends, break-ups, bad grades, good grades, drunken crying, one pregnancy scare, one stalker, and numerous chocolate milkshakes delivered to the dorm. They were close.
They stood to the side, patiently waiting as guests found their rooms and looked at pictures on the walls and various displays, happy to be together again and chatting about what they wanted to do while they were at the lodge.
Some of the children, five or six, ran to look out the windows and chased each other around the circular halls. Some of the parents called to the children to stop running, exasperated but also distracted.
Peri and Bristol traded glances. It was Peri’s pet peeve when children were unsupervised; that was the teacher in her. Unsupervised children could get into trouble or be injured; Peri felt that parents shouldn’t exactly hover over children, but times were different, and children needed to be watched closely. It seemed perverts and stalkers were everywhere and always looking for victims.
A man dressed in big camo work boots, loose camo pants, and a tight camo tee shirt stretched over a big belly snagged the collar of a little girl about seven years of age. He choked her throat and yanked her back so she fell to her butt on the floor. She whined with fear and pain, rubbing her neck. She was probably bein
g a little dramatic, but that was usual for the age.
Fearfully, she looked at the man and sobbed as her little face turned red. She was embarrassed and obviously hurt.
“Now, get your ass up and stop that running, Nina. Don’t make me tan your hide, right.”
“Oh, Baby….”a woman called, whether to the child or to the man; no one knew or particularly cared.
“Get some control over her, woman,” the man demanded, “of all the useless people….”
A boy, a few years older than the girl, looked the man and smirked, “That’s learning her, Daddy.” He laughed at his sister’s misery.
“Shut up, Duke. I didn’t ask ya. Get up, Nina.”
“Hurts…my neck.” The little girl stayed sitting as she gently felt of her neck. She looked up, fading against the pattern of the carpet. Somehow now, it was more noticeable that her hair was home-cut in uneven layers and with too short bangs. Her clothing was a little tight; she had outgrown clothing, which was faded, worn, and a bit gray. Her knees, arms, and legs were scabbed as if she had played roughly outside and done unsafe activities that left cuts and scrapes.
The big man, her father, looked ready to jerk her back to her feet as his forehead wrinkled, his face reddened, and his lips tightened. People took a few steps away, distancing themselves from the group that suddenly seemed out of place in the elegant surroundings.
“White trash,” someone muttered.
Peri heaved a great sigh.
Dana leaned forwards and squatted beside the girl, “Let’s see.” She examined the child’s neck quickly, handing her a tissue. She said to the father, “When you grabbed her shirt, you snagged her necklace, and it cut into her skin. See? She’s bleeding a little. It probably stings. I’m a nurse….”
“Did I ask you to get into my business?” The man stood, hulking over his daughter and Dana. He jerked the girl up, making her squeal with pain; his big, fat fist closed painfully around her small arm.
“You’re hurting her.” Dana stood to her full height of six feet tall. She wasn’t bulky or fat, but she was built solidly, athletically muscled, and she had two inches of height on the man.
She was slightly buffed in a healthy way; the man had a jiggle-belly and man-boobs. She met his eyes, looking down a little, not with a judgmental attitude, but in a calm, cool, and collected manner that said Dana meant business and was no-nonsense about harming children. Cold eyes indicated she would not stand for hurting a little one.
Dana never shied away from her size, slumping or forgoing high-heeled shoes if she wanted to wear them. Instead, she embraced her size, playing sports, keeping her figure trim, and showing a positive attitude. In high heels, she towered at six feet four and was a showstopper when she entered a room. Dana was a model of positive self-esteem.
Dane glared at the man.
“Take her, and stop her sniveling,” the man said as he pushed the child to his wife, who looked at Dana with distrust and fear, mostly keeping her face averted. He didn’t like the situation, but he stepped down from Dana’s warning glare.
“Any problems?” asked a man they didn’t know who had walked between the young woman and stood by Dana. Two more joined him. They didn’t act threateningly or say anything rude, but they made it known that they supported Dana if she needed them.
Before anything else could happen, a porter motioned at them and nervously gathered the family and showed the rude man, his wife, son, and daughter to a room. The porter was almost dancing with worry that there was a problem. The other family with them was shown to a room as well. All of them glared and muttered but didn’t say another word. Luckily, they were out of their element and clearly in the wrong.
It looked like a redneck vacation to Peri, and she muttered that, laughing quietly so no one but Dana heard.
The man, his wife called him Rudy, the mean one, paused at his door. He met the eyes of each of the men and Dana and pointed a finger to every one, as if he were marking them in his memory; it was meant to be very serious.
As the door closed, the young people broke into laughs and chuckles.
“Isn’t there always one idiot like that in the crowd?”
“Redneck outing,” Peri said, “seriously…all the camo? And that attitude…rude.”
“Thanks for helping out,” Dana said.
The man, taller than she was and who had helped her, smiled down at her with an appraising grin. “I’m happy I had an excuse to meet you although I didn’t like that situation at all. You handled it perfectly. I’m Hank.” He was a few inches over six feet tall, with big bones and a formidable build. Next to Dana, he almost made her seem small.
They stopped to shake hands and introduce themselves and the two other men with that group, so it was chaotic for a few minutes as they met. Rhonda tossed her hair and smiled beautifully at each man, taking a hand and repeating the name in a sweet voice. Anyone would fall for Rhonda.
“Hank. How do you do, Hank. It’s nice to meet you,” she said. She wasn’t acting fake, either; that was exactly how sweet and southern Rhonda was, and she was memorizing names to be polite and gracious.
Dana smiled as she met the men, but inside, she was furious with the rude father who had hurt his daughter. His wife and children looked at him with fear in their eyes. Dana thought abusive people were just scum and said so. “I hate the way they looked at him with fear. I think he thought I was going to be scared of him. No way. He’s just a bully.”
“Bullies are cowards at heart,” Hank said.
“I agree, “Dana smiled.
“This is us,” Peri told Dana. She thought she might have to physically pull Dana away from Hank; her friend never, ever got ga-ga over a man, but Dana was allowing Hank to calm her with jokes and charm. At least the situation hadn’t gotten physical, but Dana laughed and talked easily to him as if they were old friends. It was interesting to see Dana relaxed and chatting to a man since she was usually so serious and focused on her nursing career.
In college, Dana dated very little since men were often intimidated by her height and by her serious, focused attitude. Men generally ignored her, but this one, Hank, was attentive. Dana obviously was interested in this man, Peri thought.
Something was strange. Peri had a little frisson that made her blink twice as she watched her best friend. Looking at Hank and her friend, Dana, Peri was shocked to realize this was what romantics called love at first sight. It was real. Peri made a quick wish that the couple realized what it was as well.
“Down stairs in the bar, people are having appetizers and half-priced drinks before dinner. I don’t know if you drink at all or… Margaritas and chips?”
“Ummm,” Peri answered one of the men; his name was Norman. She saw him in the group of men and thought he was very attractive.
“That sounds good. I could go for a margarita and some hot salsa. Doesn’t that sound yummy?” Dana asked the rest, “Salsa is good for the body. Tomatoes and peppers…healthy stuff.”
Shan nodded, “Margaritas always hit the spot. I could go for a pitcher of them.” She laughed at Dana, “Healthy? You are a nut. Let’s have some fun.”
“4:00-6:00. Care to join us for a big welcome party?” Norman asked Peri.
“Ummm. Oh, well sure if we’re all going,” she said, blushing. She wished she could just accept an invitation like a normal person, but her face went hot, and she had to take a deep breath. Her face blazed with heat. Peri wasn’t shy or anything, but her face flamed. She had noticed him in the group of men and caught his eyes on her a few times, but he was really good-looking and a little more casual and rough than the nerds she always ended up with, having one miserable date.
Peri went silent a second as she thought about the invitation.
Now he thought she was a creep who couldn’t even speak. She was caught off-guard is all and didn’t think anyone had noticed her. Tears filling her eyes, she ducked into the room she was sharing with Dana, “We’ll see you there,” she called back.
Mira was unusual looking, but striking. With straight black hair, she had dark brown eyes that had just a little of an Asian look to them, white, creamy skin, the generous, full mouth from her Spanish heritage, and a tiny body. Her father was Korean, and her mother was Mexican, but the genetics had made her a natural, classic beauty.
She was a smart, no-nonsense type woman, and whether a friend wanted to get back at a cheating, lying boyfriend and embarrass the hell out of him in a bar so he never showed his face there again, or something more academic, she was the go-to-girl. Under her fitted leather vest, jeans, and pressed cotton shirt was a woman who could tell a dirty joke, write a research paper, and then turn around and fix a light socket.
Mira was in a room with four wide bunk beds that she shared with Bristol and Connie. It was a little odd, but the bunks were generously built with more of a double mattress than a twin and featured soft, high-thread-count sheets and fluffy, pretty comforters covered in a bright paisley pattern of red, dark blue, white and light blue.
As they entered, a big bathroom was to one side, and then the bunks were on either side of a huge walkway. The walkway opened up into a bright sitting area with a modern, wraparound sofa, a television, and a huge window and glass door that opened onto the deck. To the sides were modern chairs with no arm- rests, matching light blue foot rests, and tables.
Light filled the room, but heavy blue curtains and light blue sheers that could be pulled for privacy were on the windows. The sofa was bright red with a blue and red striped rug in front, and pillows in floral designs of red and blue were tossed everywhere on the sofa. A big wagon wheel was positioned over the sofa. A red vase of silk bluebonnets and white lilies sat on one table. The mixture of textures and colors with old fashioned and modern elements made the room cozy but still modern and light.
“I love it,” Bristol declared as she flopped on the sofa, put her feet up, and gazed out at the scenery, “I could just stay here and live. Room service. Sit right here and watch the sun all day.”