“So,” Emily settled herself on the cot across from him, elbows resting on her knees as she looked up at him, “Did she break your heart or did you break hers?”
“She broke mine,” he said, “But I don’t blame her. I fucked up big time. I knew what I was doing could cost me the relationship.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because I thought it was best for the big picture.”
Emily leaned back on the cot, looking up at him thoughtfully. “If you could go back, would you do it differently?”
“I would but it’s not because of Janet,” Quinton waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
He looked at Emily, not sure how much he could say. The people here knew they were living on an island but they didn’t know about the hand the CIA had had in it. He also wasn’t about to reveal Harold’s part in the infection. Still, he felt a need to talk to someone who wasn’t involved in any of this. Maybe an unbiased second party would help him get over this.
“We have a scientist in our group, a specialist on infectious diseases. He wanted to try to work out a cure for the infection. He kept one of the infected locked up so he could try and cure it. I found out about his secret but I kept it from everyone, including my girlfriend. It didn’t stay secret long and when she found out, she ended things with me because she couldn’t trust me.”
“Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Because I knew she’d want us to kill it and I couldn’t risk that. Like I said, I’ve been focused on the big picture. I had to take the chance, no matter how small, that we could fix all this.”
“So why would you change your mind if you could do it again? You said it wasn’t because of Janet.”
He sighed. “Because I found out that I wasn’t the only one looking at the big picture. I was arrogant enough to think I was the only one who could see it. I know now that there were others who would have stood with me. It would have avoided a lot of problems, not just for me but for everyone, if I had been honest.”
His love life hadn’t been the only casualty of his lies. He had sown discord among the group that was only just now starting to settle.
He could see that Emily was thinking, considering his words. “Well at least you seem to have learned from your mistake. Until someone invents time travel, that’s all we can do when we make a mistake.”
“True enough,” he said.
“I’m sure you won’t have any problems finding someone else,” she said. “You’re attractive, a doctor, which still means something, even in this world. You’ll find a willing woman in no time.”
The way she crossed her legs and leaned forward told him that she was more than willing to be one of those women. It was tempting. Even just the suggestion had him hardening in response. She was attractive, there was no doubt of that, and there seemed to be plenty of dark private spaces in the mall to sneak off to.
Still, he wasn’t sure he was ready yet. As badly as it ended, he still loved Janet and he had a feeling that touching another woman would just leave him feeling even emptier.
“I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet,” he said, giving her a smile, “But I appreciate the sentiment and I’ll keep it in mind when I am ready.”
She smiled back, no sign of any hurt at the rejection. “Why don’t I go get your next patient?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
He watched her leave, his eyes slipping to watch the sway of her ass and he considered calling her back, but only for a moment. His heart wouldn’t be in it and deep down there was the fear that it meant he might have some problems performing.
And maybe that was because he knew that if he was with another woman that would be putting the final nail in the coffin. Right now there was still a chance Janet could take him back. If she did, he’d have to tell her he slept with another woman and she would never forgive him. He wasn’t ready yet to give up that chance. It might make him the biggest idiot still alive but he was willing to be that for now.
Subject File #742
Administrator: After everything that happened with Glen, why did you bring it here?
Subject: Because I believe that Harold does have a chance. Maybe that makes me crazy but I’d rather take a chance than do nothing.
If Malcolm hadn’t been the one in the driver’s seat, he would have closed his eyes as they approached Skippy’s. He had been repeating silent prayers ever since they left Port Meyer and it just felt wrong to pray with his eyes open. Like his prayers wouldn't be answered if he didn't close them.
He had been praying that Skippy's would still be standing and the fifteen foot sailboat he had seen on their first visit would still be there.
He kept his eyes on the road, the prayers still repeating in his head, as he made a right turn. The chickens let out loud squawks from the back, loud enough to drown out the prayers in his own head.
Those bastards were an awful bunch to travel with. The noise was bad enough but the smell was by far the worst. It had forced them to roll down all the windows only twenty minutes outside of Port Meyer.
They had left Darren and the others in good spirits, Javier having managed to help them start rigging up their solar power. They’d exchanged their goodbyes and promises to meet again in a month’s time only an hour later than they had planned. It had been a successful trip and he hoped the rest of his prayers would be heard.
He held his breath as they made the final turn and then Malcolm hit his fist on the steering wheel and let out a whoop.
Skippy’s Boat Lot and Storage was still there, its fences standing and the lot still filled with boats.
He turned them into the lot and headed towards the back where the larger boats were stored. The fifteen footer he had seen was still at the back of the yard, mast and sails packed underneath the cover, its clean hull nestled in the trailer. It was a beauty and would make good time out on the lake.
He swung the SUV around and backed up so they could hitch up the trailer.
“Kim, Trey, I want you both at the exit watching the road,” Malcolm instructed. “Javier, Travis, keep an eye on the lot in case we’ve got anything hiding in here. Quinton, you’re on the trailer with me.”
He climbed out and went to the rear of the SUV with Quinton, trusting the others to follow his orders. He circled the boat, checking to make sure there hadn’t been any damage to the hull that he hadn’t noticed before. He pulled himself up on the rear deck and unhooked the tarp to ensure that all the sails and rigging were there.
“She pass inspection?” Quinton asked, shading his eyes from the sun with a hand as he looked up.
“She’ll do,” Malcolm replied and hopped back down to the ground.
He and Quinton worked in silence as they hitched up the trailer.
“Want to move the chickens onto the deck?” Quinton asked when they were done. “It will help with the stink.”
Before he could reply, a sharp whistle split the air.
“We got company.”
Trey’s warning had Malcolm turning back to the road and he could see the figures on the outside of the east fence. He counted four of them shambling along the fence.
Even from this distance Malcolm could see they were all rail thin, what remained of their clothing hanging off their bodies. They crept towards the entrance, two of them with pronounced limps that had them using the fence to keep themselves upright.
Malcolm let out a sigh, the blood that had started zinging in his veins at Trey’s call slowing down. Those four posed no real threat to them.
“Give them a chance to get closer,” Malcolm told them. “No need for guns. We can take them out with knives. Masks up.”
“Wait a second, Malcolm,” Quinton said, stepping up to stand beside him. “We should capture one of them.”
“Why the hell would we do that?” Travis interjected, his voice muffled behind the mask he had put on.
“Harold needs fresh samples to be
able to work,” Quinton replied. “We agreed on that before. Why not take advantage of the situation? Those freaks can barely walk. They’d be easy to capture. I have sedatives in my pack so we can drug one of them and take it back with us.”
Malcolm looked back at the freaks, their shuffling steps having only brought them ten feet further. He could hear them now, pathetic moans instead of the screams and howls the freaks usually let out when they were on the attack. They had sunken eyes and cheeks, one of the females had lost her shirt and her clavicle and ribs were pronounced beneath her thin flesh. For the first time he felt pity for the freaks instead of hatred. This was a sorry lot that needed mercy.
But one of them could also serve the greater good. Quinton was right. They could take ones of these, knock it out and strap it to the boat. If it got loose, it would fall off on the road and if it was a threat on the boat, they could toss it overboard. It could work.
“Alright, we take out the bigger ones and disable the small man in the yellow shorts.”
The one Malcolm had picked was the shortest of the lot, one of its legs twisted out at an odd angle when it walked.
“Are you sure about this?” Kim asked and he saw the worry in her eyes. He met them with his own, trying to project the confidence he felt.
“I am. It’s the smartest move.”
“And what about the others back on the island?” she asked. “After what happened with Glen, are you sure it’s the smartest move?”
“We aren’t going to hide it,” he said. “We’re bringing it back and we’ll have a vote. If the majority doesn’t agree, then we’ll put it out of its misery, but we have to take this chance.”
“I say we do it,” Travis said, wary eyes on the freaks that had reached the entrance of the lot. “We don’t have time for a debate now. We’ll leave it for later.”
Quinton went for the tranquilizer in his pack and Malcolm directed the others to spread out so they could flank the freaks. While they went after the three bigger ones, Malcolm would sneak around to grab the smaller one that trailed behind them.
“You be ready with that needle when I grab it,” Malcolm told Quinton as they moved around the semicircle the others made in the lot.
“Got it,” Quinton told him and Malcolm made his move.
He feinted to the right and when the freak shifted its weight, he grabbed its left wrist, moving quickly to pin the arm to its back. Malcolm wrapped the freak in a bear hug, pinning its other arm to its side. It fought his hold but the jerking motion was weak, the freak feeling like nothing more than skin stretched over bone.
Quinton moved fast, stabbing the needle into the freak’s arm and injecting it with the tranq. It didn’t take long for the drugs to hit the tiny body and it slumped into dead weight in his arms.
Malcolm laid the freak face down on the ground and Quinton was there with a spool of wire to hogtie it. When the freak was secure, Malcolm looked up to check on the others.
They had made quick work of the other freaks, their bodies crumpled up on the ground. Travis had his foot on the shoulder of one of them as he tried to pry his ax out of its skull.
“This is disgusting work,” Travis grimaced as the ax pulled free of the freak with a wet squelching sound. “We got bleach to clean this shit off?”
“In the case in the back,” Malcolm said, pointing to the rear of the SUV. “Quinton and I will load this one in the boat while you clean up.”
They each took an end of the freak and hauled it up onto the deck. It took some arranging but they finally got the freak secured, tying its bindings to one of the cleats on the side.
“It should be solid,” Malcolm said, giving a yank on the bindings to test the knots. “Even if it gets out, worst thing it’ll do is fall off the boat.”
He looked up to find Quinton staring over at the chickens in their cages. “You think we should still put the chickens out here? Like you said, it probably won’t get loose but if it does and the chickens are out here...”
Malcolm didn’t need him to finish the sentence. He knew how it would end. The freak getting a belly full of Kentucky Fried. Like hell he’d let that happen. Those chickens were going to fill their bellies.
“Alright, chickens stay with us,” Malcolm said. “This better be worth it for Harold. Those things smell like ass.”
“All in the name of fried eggs for breakfast,” Quinton said, clapping him on the back good naturedly, “And a possible cure to this whole thing.”
“You sure love to shoot for the stars.”
Quinton shrugged. “If we aren’t hoping, what’s the point?”
“True enough,” Malcolm replied.
“We also better hope the others are okay with this,” Quinton added.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle that. It’ll be okay.”
Subject File #744
Administrator: You and Malcolm do a good job.
Subject: At what exactly?
Administrator: At being leaders.
Subject: Malcolm’s the leader, not me.
Administrator: You’re just as much a leader as he is.
Kim sat on the prow of the sailboat, watching the boathouse grow larger as they skimmed over the water. The wind blasted against her face, deafening in her ears, but she didn’t mind. It was crisp and fresh, a blessed relief from the stink of the chickens that she was pretty sure had become embedded in the SUVs upholstery. Out here on the water she couldn't smell them and they had been surprisingly quiet once they had gotten under sail.
She was glad for that. Their squawking had started to give her a headache, ratcheting up the stress, and they had enough of that with the freak tied to the deck. Quinton had been standing watch over the bound freak, a syringe of tranquilizer at the ready in case it woke up.
Thankfully, it hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle, even as Malcolm called out instructions as they had worked to raise the sails. Getting this boat under sail had been a fiasco in itself, adding a raving freak tied to the deck would have turned it into a disaster. Even with Malcolm’s instructions, it had taken them awhile to get the sails up. It was safe to say this crew wasn’t filled with natural sailors.
But at least they were almost home. Now they would just have to deal with convincing the others to let the freak on the island. She knew it would still be a sore subject with some of the group and she fully expected Janet to not budge.
Kim had her own doubts about the whole situation but she wouldn’t voice them. She trusted Malcolm to do the right thing. If he thought this was best for them, then she’d back him up.
“Alright, let’s get ready to dock,” Malcolm called out and Kim pushed aside her worries as they got to work bringing down the sails.
It went a bit smoother than their start and soon they were coming up beside the dock.
Banks had come down from the perch and was there to grab the rope Travis tossed to him and secure the boat to the dock. The knocking of the hull against the dock sent the chickens back to squawking.
“Sounds like you brought us fried chicken for dinner,” Banks said with a grin but Kim nailed him with a glare.
“You lay one finger on these chickens and we’ll be eating you,” she warned him. “They’re here to lay eggs for us.”
Banks held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it, no chicken wings on the menu.”
“How did it go for you guys?” Malcolm asked Banks.
“The fuel tank was almost full. We just finished up ferrying back the last of it.”
“I take it there wasn’t anyone there.”
Banks frowned. “Not by the time we got there. The people who had been there died a couple days back. All we found were graves and a body.”
“The infection?” Kim asked.
“The body was a suicide. He was the last one left and decided to check out,” Banks said. “We saw signs that they were trying to treat whatever got them sick. I doubt they’d do that if it was the infection.”
Well, at least it meant the
re was one more island out there that didn’t pose a threat. She hated that she thought that way and immediately sent up a silent prayer for the people who had died. Just because she was becoming accustomed to death didn’t mean they shouldn’t pray for the dead.
“So, why’d you radio in to keep the others away from the dock?” Banks asked. “What else you got in there?”
“We brought a freak for Harold,” Malcolm told him, not mincing any words.
“You’re shitting me.” Banks laughed but it trailed off when he realized that Malcolm was serious. “Did you get drunk over there?”
“I’m not drunk. Harold needs fresh samples to work on. This is the easiest way.”
“Are you forgetting the shitshow we dealt with the last time a freak was hidden here?”
“I’m not planning on hiding it,” Malcolm told him. “I just didn’t want to have the debate here on the dock. It’s drugged for now but I didn’t want it to wake up while we were fighting. That would only make things worse. I want the freak secured in the cell before I tell the others. If they don’t want it here, we put it down and bury it.”
Banks considered his words for a moment and then holstered his gun. “Alright, how do you want me to help?”
“You mind grabbing the extra wheelbarrow from the boathouse?” Banks nodded and headed back to the boathouse. Malcolm turned to Kim and gave her a wan smile. “Can you and Trey take the chickens to the coop? I’ll have Javier and Travis round up the others to talk to them after we get it to the clinic.”
“No problem,” she said. “Come on, Trey. Let’s get these girls home.”
The chickens started squawking as they lifted their cages down from the boat and headed to the coop.
Craig had built the coop behind the lodge, where there would be shade for most of the day. When he said he was building it, she had pictured a couple boxes for nesting surrounded by chicken wire. Craig had exceeded those expectations and built the chickens their very own mansion.
The coop looked more like a shed, big enough for a person to walk inside. It made it easy to get at the nesting boxes he’d built inside. He hadn’t bothered with chicken wire and had erected an enclosure of chain link fencing and a gate instead. Rose had said the chickens would be okay to roam free but Kim thought the fencing might be good for the next few days until the chickens were accustomed to their new home.
The Complex (The Omega Protocol Chronicles Book 3) Page 19