With effort, Melissa broke eye contact with him long enough for a glance at Forrest, who confirmed what Ulrich had said with a nod. “You guys knew this would happen,” she said quietly, looking at the floor.
“No,” Forrest said. “But now you see the trouble we could have been in had we joined in on their conversation last night. It’s possible we could have brought this same kind of hell down on ourselves—even though it’s likely the triangulation had already been done.”
“But not necessarily,” Vasquez warned.
“Those women are gonna be . . . they’ll be raped, won’t they?”
“Let us hope not,” Ulrich said quietly. “There are alternatives.”
She stood looking at the three men. “So I should keep this a secret?”
“What do you think?” Forrest asked.
“I think we’re just buying time down here,” she replied, suddenly feeling a new kind of heaviness.
“Do you want the others to start believing that? To start dwelling on it?”
She shook her head. “I won’t say anything. I don’t feel good. I think I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“Okay,” Forrest said. “I’m sorry, kiddo.”
“Yeah . . . me too.”
When she was gone Ulrich dropped down into a chair with a sigh, squeezing his temples between his forefinger and thumb. “So is the military hitting civilians now? Is that what we just heard?”
Forrest switched the set back on just long enough to make sure there was nothing more to hear and switched it off again. “I think we’d damn well better assume as much,” he said gravely. “And what’s that tell us . . . the military has finally degraded to the point of committing murder?”
“Men are men,” Vasquez said. “And men with guns aren’t going hungry if they don’t have to.”
“So you’d kill an innocent for his food—her food?”
“If she left me no choice,” Vasquez answered without batting an eye. “I’ve got a family to feed.”
“That’s too easy,” Forrest said. “Say it’s just you?”
“Maybe I’d split it with her, offer her a pact like we’ve made down here. Look, I’m not a murderer and I sure as hell ain’t no rapist . . . but a starving person doesn’t have any choice about food. Instinct will make him do what he has to do to get it.”
“That’s bullshit,” Forrest said. “Starvation isn’t rabies. Gandhi starved himself damned near to death more than once just to make a fucking point.”
“Well, I ain’t Gandhi either,” Vasquez said, and chuckled.
“What I’m saying is that giving up your dignity is a conscious choice,” Forrest said. “It’s a choice you make ahead of time. You decide that you’re either going to throw in the towel after a certain point or you’re going to be the last one standing no matter the cost.”
“I won’t argue that. But if the military hit that wind farm, the common grunt didn’t have that luxury.”
“Horseshit. No one hit that farm who didn’t want to. A man can step back and take stock of himself at any time.”
Vasquez sat forward in the chair. “That might be true for you, Captain. You’re a leader . . . not all of us are. Some of us are happy to follow, and not all followers are lucky about who they get as leaders. Personally . . . without you two dudes . . . I don’t know how I’d handle any of this.”
Forrest stood up and tousled the younger man’s hair on his way to the coffeepot. “Well, not all leaders are lucky about who they get to follow them either.”
Ulrich smiled at Vasquez, hiding his concern about what Forrest referred to as the “insulin habit.” He and Forrest had asked Vasquez and Danzig both to come in on the project precisely because they were followers. They were not blind devotees, but were highly skilled operatives who could be depended upon to follow orders in a paramilitary setting without a great deal of debate. Kane of course was his own story. He was their noncommissioned officer, the perfect blend of capable and aloof; that he agreed to join them had been as much a compliment as their having asked.
“You’re sure you didn’t talk to those people last night?” Ulrich said, shifting his attention to Forrest. “We don’t need a proper military outfit showing up outside our door.”
“Wayne . . . come on ”
“I just don’t want any surprises, Jack.”
“I was only on the air for a few seconds . . .” Forrest kept his face serious.
“What . . . ?”
“Long enough to broadcast our address five or six times.” Then Forrest smiled.
Ulrich shook his head, Vasquez grinning.
“Ask a stupid question,” Forrest said, sipping his coffee, “and ye shall receive a stupid answer.”
Forty-One
The Halloween party, especially Forrest’s surprise box of candy, was a big hit with the children. The next day, however, the mothers were a little less than thrilled about the candy, the first sweets the kids had eaten since coming to live in the silo nearly five months earlier. They had gotten into it first thing that morning and were now so hyper that Andie found herself completely unable to hold their attention during class.
After forty minutes of fruitless effort, she released them all back into the care of their mothers and went to find Forrest, cornering him below the main facility outside the entrance to the electrical room.
“Do you know what you’ve done giving out all that candy at once?”
“Other than putting you mothers on the spot?” he said, wiping the sweat from his face and neck with a towel.
“Yeah, other than that. There are thirteen kids upstairs running around like little maniacs on a sugar high. I had to dismiss class already.”
He stood looking at her, struggling to keep the smile from his face.
“What do they get for Christmas? A bag of cocaine?”
He snickered. “Maybe. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Did you give any thought at all to the fact those kids haven’t had any sugar to speak of in almost five months?”
“I don’t believe you’re down here chewing my ass because I gave the kids Halloween candy.” He flipped the towel over his shoulder. “What’s really got you in a twist?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she said, crossing her arms in an effort to disguise a sudden insecurity. “Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Well, to answer your question. Yes. I did give it some thought. In fact, the mummy and I had ourselves quite a laugh about it last night as we were passing it out.”
“Well, that was irresponsible as hell.”
“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” he said with a grin. “And yet I’ve succeeded in adding a little bit of harmless drama to all of your otherwise monotonous lives. Even to my own, it turns out.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, failing to hide a smile as she recognized his deviousness. “You’re a manipulator, Jack Forrest.”
“I’m a goddamn wizard, is what I am. This little Halloween stunt of mine will be good for days’ worth of conversation and playful recrimination—just like we’re having right now. And when it finally wears off, God willing, I’ll find something else irresponsible to do in order to keep you women distracted and away from one another’s throats. That is unless you decide to go upstairs and blow my goddamn cover.”
She laughed, shaking her head in perplexity. “How does Veronica manage you?”
“She doesn’t.”
“I don’t know whether to envy her or to feel sorry for her.”
“Oh, yes, you do.”
Her eyebrows soared. “Egotistical much?”
“Lady, I goddamn well better be. I’m trying to pull off the coup of the century down here and I need all the juice I can get.”
Andie could tell from his body language that all she had to do to seduce him was say something
, anything, to prompt him. Anything that would absolve him of responsibility for something happening between them, however flimsy. Her body ached for a man, her chest constricting. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him how badly she needed him. Was it pride? Or fear of offending Veronica and losing her friendship? In the end it probably came down to both.
“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” she said quietly, feeling suddenly deflated. “I didn’t mean any—”
“You didn’t give any. This has been the most excitement I’ve had in weeks. Feel free to make up a reason to berate me anytime.”
Her jaw dropped but she didn’t say anything, knowing she was busted and that to deny it would only make her look silly.
“Bring a friend if you like,” he added, by way of being a smartass.
“Maybe I will,” she said, playfully contemptuous. “You’re definitely the man for this job, Jack.”
“We all do what we’re called to do.”
“Oh, that’s such bullshit,” she said laughing. “You wouldn’t be anywhere else and you know it.”
He entered Launch Control later that day—after hearing about his questionable judgment of the night before from at least three other mothers—and sat down beside Kane for a look at the monitors, already bored.
“Snowing a little bit, finally.”
Kane looked up from his worn copy of X-Box Magazine for a glance at the monitor. “Was only a matter of time.”
“How many times can you read the same magazine? Christ, we’ve got a few hundred books downstairs.”
“I’m reading up for the tournament.”
“What tournament?”
“Football tournament. Me, Linus, Oscar, and a bunch of the kids. Winner gets to eat the others’ desserts for a week.”
“You’re going to take food from the kids . . . and the women think I’m bad.”
Kane laughed. “You should hear the smack those kids are talkin’, man.”
“Any of ’em any good?”
“Oscar Junior can beat his dad six games outta ten. Beats me about half the time. We’ll give the others a handicap. It ain’t like we’re stealin’.”
They sat in silence then, Kane reading his magazine, Forrest tapping a pen on the counter.
After a full minute of tapping, Kane said, “Man, I got this. You don’t have to be in here. And by the way, Wayne said to tell you there’s a big pile of dog shit in tunnel two.”
“I saw it,” Forrest said, tossing the pen aside. “Stepped right over, in fact. He’s right, it’s pretty big.”
Kane sat staring at him.
“What?”
“Go find somethin’ to do, man.”
“Hey, Thanksgiving’s just around the corner, you know? It’s going fast.”
“You haven’t said nothin’ about the turkeys to nobody, have you?”
Forrest shook his head. “Seen those kids running around out there today?” He laughed. “It’s a friggin zoo.”
“Yeah, and Tonya’s not your biggest fan right now.”
Veronica poked her head into the room.
“Either of you guys know where Sean is? Melissa’s got a bad headache and there’s no aspirin left in the common area.”
“He’s not in medical?”
“Nope.”
Forrest had a look at his watch. “I’ll come unlock the cabinet,” he said, getting up. “He and Taylor might be on an afternoon tryst. Care if I leave you alone a minute, Marcus?”
Kane took a semiexasperated look around the room. “Jack, man, it ain’t like we’re sittin’ on missiles down here. Get him out of here, Ronny. He’s makin’ me nervous.”
Forrest got some aspirin from the medicine cabinet in Medical, then he and Veronica went to see Melissa in the second common room. The children were still rough-housing, screaming and laughing as they burned off the sugar, and Laddie was jumping around with them, chasing his ball and barking with excitement. A trio of mothers sat about, watching to make sure no one got hurt, a couple of them giving Forrest a collective you’re gonna get it look as he crossed into the room.
He offered them an innocent smile in return. “What’s got these little rascals so wound up today?”
“Like you don’t know,” Jenny said.
Veronica slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re asking for it.”
He went to the corner and knelt beside Melissa, who lay back on her bedroll looking very tired. “Got a headache, kiddo?”
“Uh-huh. Dolar en la cabesa,” she said, recalling the words from one of Maria Vasquez’s Spanish classes.
“As I recall, you weren’t feeling so hot yesterday either.”
“She’s working too hard on that cipher,” Veronica said, kneeling and sitting back on her heels. “Why don’t you take a little break, honey? Go back to it with fresh eyes in a week or two.”
“I will,” she said, taking the aspirins from her and sitting up to swallow them with some water. “But I feel like maybe I’m onto something. I’ve been assigning different letters and words to the sequences. Nothing fits yet, but the more I experiment with it, the more I feel a pattern. I can’t explain it, but it’s in there.”
She lay back down, massaging her neck with her hand. “I’m stiff today too.”
“Well, get some rest,” Veronica said, kissing her on the forehead. “Let someone know if you need anything.”
“Okay. I just need some sleep.”
Veronica walked with Forrest down the hall back toward Launch Control. “Think she’s really close to breaking that code?”
“I don’t know,” he said, scratching his head. “The chances are millions to one, but Wayne says it’s probably not a complicated code. So who knows? I just wish she wasn’t so obsessed with it. That’s almost all she’s been doing for the past couple of months. I saw her playing with the kids a few days ago but that’s been it.”
Taylor and Dr. West came around the corner laughing and holding hands.
“Hey, you two,” Taylor said happily.
“Hey,” Forrest said, extending them the rare courtesy of not teasing them about where they were coming from. “Sean, would you have a look at Melissa? She’s got a bad headache. I’m worried she’s been driving herself too hard with that damn code.”
“She’s still got that headache?” West said, surprised.
“And a stiff neck.”
“Was her neck stiff before?”
“I don’t know,” Forrest said. “We’re going to have to keep her busy with something else for a couple weeks.”
“I’ll think of something,” Veronica said. “Maybe we can start making Christmas decorations.”
“Speaking of that,” Forrest said, opening the door to Launch Control, “I’ve got an artificial tree in the cargo bay. Don’t tell anyone else, but I was thinking to set it up the day after Thanksgiving. Get all the juice we can out of the holiday.”
“Good idea,” West said. “I’ll look in on Melissa.”
“Talk to you guys later,” Forrest said, giving Veronica a kiss. “I’m supposed to be on duty.”
“No!” Kane called from inside the room. “Ronny, man, don’t let him back in here!”
Forty-Two
Dr. West at first believed Melissa’s headache was a symptom of the flu, which had been troubling enough, but after she began to run a fever on the third day, her complaints of a stiff neck made him think it might be something much more serious. So he asked for her and Michael’s permission to perform a painful spinal tap so he might look at her cerebral spinal fluid under a microscope.
Having brought along as much in the way medical equipment as was humanly practical, he was able to run some basic tests, and though he was unable to diagnose Melissa’s affliction with absolute certainty, the elevated number of white blood cells in her CSF gave him cause to be
lieve she was suffering from bacterial meningitis, and he could have named a hundred diagnoses he would have preferred.
He stepped out of Medical into the corridor to talk with Michael and Forrest, leaving Veronica inside with Melissa, who lay in bed covered with blankets.
“So what is it, Sean?” Forrest asked, seemingly even more concerned than Michael.
“I think it’s serious,” West said. “I’m not absolutely certain but I believe she has bacterial meningitis. And if so she needs intravenous antibiotics; penicillin or vancomycin, possibly even cefotaxime—none of which I’ve got.”
“Wait, you told me you brought every antibiotic you thought we could possibly need.”
“In capsule form.”
“Why won’t those work?”
“Because you can’t pick away at an infection this big,” West said. “You have to hit a hammer blow, and pills won’t do that. I’ve got her on a broad spectrum of oral antibiotics now to try and slow the infection, but that’s not likely to save her.”
“So she could die?” Michael asked.
“In all likelihood she will die, and I want you both to prepare for that.”
“Now hold on a second!” Forrest said. “Four days ago she was chasing the kids and the dog up and down the tunnels. And now she’s in there dying? How does that happen?”
“Some of the children have been passing ear infections back and forth for the past couple of weeks,” West explained. “It’s possible that Melissa picked up a streptococcus infection from one of them and it spread to her cerebral spinal fluid via the ear. Unfortunately, meningitis is most commonly seen in people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-four—which makes Melissa a prime candidate.”
“So are the children at risk or not?” Michael asked, worried about an epidemic.
“It’s possible, but they’ve all had their vaccinations, so we may get away with it. As a precaution, I’m going to put them all on penicillin for a week.”
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