Deadline
Page 147
“That’s fine. Becks, Alaric, you guard me. Mahir, you guard Maggie.” I stepped away from the bike, leaving the helmet on the seat, and linked my hands behind my head. “Let’s go tell Dr. Abbey she has guests, shall we?”
I felt almost like we were parodying our approach to the CDC as we walked ward the building. Mahir and Maggie went first, followed by Becks, who walked backward so as to keep her gun trained on me. Alaric brought up the rear, his own gun out and, I knew, pointed at my head. If I showed any signs of turning, they’d take me down before I could do any serious damage. It was reassuring.
At least they’re well-trained, said George.
“There’s that,” I muttered. Them being well-trained might actually keep them alive for a little bit longer, now that they weren’t going to be my responsibility anymore.
We were still about ten yards away when the door opened. Dr. Abbey stepped into view with a shotgun braced against her shoulder and Joe the Mastiff standing next to her, looking more massive than ever. Maybe she’d been feeding him trespassers.
“So you came after all,” she said, eyes flicking over the group before settling on me. Her eyebrows rose. “And you’re under armed guard because…?”
“I was bitten about five miles back,” I replied. “There was a pack of infected in the woods. I’m pretty sure we killed them all, but you may want to send a cleanup crew, just to be certain.”
“We didn’t run a blood test because we didn’t want the results uploaded to the CDC database,” said Mahir. “Given the circumstances, it seemed somewhat… less than wise.”
My stomach sank. I hadn’t even considered that. “Shit,” I whispered.
Nobody expects you to be doing any heavy thinking right after a zombie tried to take your arm off.
“Says you.”
“So you brought him here?” Dr. Abbey shrugged, lowering her gun. “I would have settled for a bottle of wine, but I guess a new test subject and the location of some fresh corpses will do. Come on, all of you. Shaun, don’t try to touch anyone, or my lab techs will have to blow your head off.”
“That’s fair,” I agreed.
“Good boy.” Dr. Abbey smiled and stepped back, letting Becks lead the rest of us inside.
The new lab wasn’t as established as the old one, which meant it was more cluttered, with boxes everywhere, and didn’t yet have that ground-in “science” smell—strange chemicals, bleach, sterile air, and plastic gloves. This lab smelled rather pleasantly of cedar wood. That would change as things got up to speed. Maybe they could hang some of those little air fresheners, try to bring it back.
Of course, that assumed they were going to have time. Most of the shelving units had a distinctly temporary look to them, like this was just a stop on the way to some more distant destination. The mad science equivalent of pitching camp for the night.
Lab-coated assistants scurried here and there, unpacking boxes, carrying trays of samples from one place to another. The assault rifles they all had strapped around their waists were new, making it clear just how seriously they were taking their situation. That was a bit of a relief. I would/dibe leaving my team with no one to defend them.
“Molena, Alan,” said Dr. Abbey, flagging down two of the nearest techs. “Take this group to the cafeteria. Get them coffee and blood tests, and see if you can’t scrape together something resembling food. Not that god-awful lasagna we had for dinner. That’s not even suitable for feeding to the pigs.”
“Yes, Dr. Abbey,” said the taller of the lab techs. He turned to the group. “If you’ll come with me?”
“Of course,” said Mahir. “Shaun—”
“Don’t.” I gave him a pleading look. “All of you, please, don’t. We’ve said everything that needs to be said. So don’t, okay?”
“All right,” he said, and turned to follow the lab tech. Maggie cast an uncertain glance back in my direction and did the same.
Alaric lingered for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Finally, he said, “Say hello to Georgia for me,” and fled, leaving only me, Becks, and Dr. Abbey behind. And Joe, of course. He sat next to Dr. Abbey, tongue lolling and tail wagging. He was the only one of us not equipped to understand the gravity of the situation, and I sort of envied him that.
Dr. Abbey looked at Becks. “Not hungry?”
“I’m not leaving until I know what you’re going to do with him.” She kept her gun trained on me as she spoke, professional to the last. Her hand was shaking only slightly. I didn’t do as well when I was in her position.
“Fair enough. Come on, Shaun.” Dr. Abbey waved for me to follow her as she turned and started down the nearest hall. She didn’t call for anyone else to keep an eye on me. I guess she figured Becks would be enough.
We walked maybe twenty yards deeper into the building, moving around towers of cardboard boxes and past hastily constructed metal racks. Lab techs moved past us constantly, grabbing this and that and vanishing down hallways or through doors. I guess moving an entire virology lab isn’t a simple task.
Dr. Abbey grabbed a blood testing unit from one of the shelving units and kept walking, offering nods and quiet greetings to some of the lab techs we passed. She stopped only when we reached a door labeled ISOLATION III. “In here,” she said, and opened it. I didn’t move. “What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get in.”
I felt almost like we were parodying our approach to the CDC as we walked ward the building. Mahir and Maggie went first, followed by Becks, who walked backward so as to keep her gun trained on me. Alaric brought up the rear, his own gun out and, I knew, pointed at my head. If I showed any signs of turning, they’d take me down before I could do any serious damage. It was reassuring.
At least they’re well-trained, said George.
“There’s that,” I muttered. Them being well-trained might actually keep them alive for a little bit longer, now that they weren’t going to be my responsibility anymore.
We were still about ten yards away when the door opened. Dr. Abbey stepped into view with a shotgun braced against her shoulder and Joe the Mastiff standing next to her, looking more massive than ever. Maybe she’d been feeding him trespassers.
“So you came after all,” she said, eyes flicking over the group before settling on me. Her eyebrows rose. “And you’re under armed guard because…?”
“I was bitten about five miles back,” I replied. “There was a pack of infected in the woods. I’m pretty sure we killed them all, but you may want to send a cleanup crew, just to be certain.”
“We didn’t run a blood test because we didn’t want the results uploaded to the CDC database,” said Mahir. “Given the circumstances, it seemed somewhat… less than wise.”
My stomach sank. I hadn’t even considered that. “Shit,” I whispered.
Nobody expects you to be doing any heavy thinking right after a zombie tried to take your arm off.
“Says you.”
“So you brought him here?” Dr. Abbey shrugged, lowering her gun. “I would have settled for a bottle of wine, but I guess a new test subject and the location of some fresh corpses will do. Come on, all of you. Shaun, don’t try to touch anyone, or my lab techs will have to blow your head off.”
“That’s fair,” I agreed.
“Good boy.” Dr. Abbey smiled and stepped back, letting Becks lead the rest of us inside.
The new lab wasn’t as established as the old one, which meant it was more cluttered, with boxes everywhere, and didn’t yet have that ground-in “science” smell—strange chemicals, bleach, sterile air, and plastic gloves. This lab smelled rather pleasantly of cedar wood. That would change as things got up to speed. Maybe they could hang some of those little air fresheners, try to bring it back.
Of course, that assumed they were going to have time. Most of the shelving units had a distinctly temporary look to them, like this was just a stop on the way to some more distant destination. The mad science equivalent of pitching camp for the night.
Lab-coated assistants scurried here and there, unpacking boxes, carrying trays of samples from one place to another. The assault rifles they all had strapped around their waists were new, making it clear just how seriously they were taking their situation. That was a bit of a relief. I would/dibe leaving my team with no one to defend them.
“Molena, Alan,” said Dr. Abbey, flagging down two of the nearest techs. “Take this group to the cafeteria. Get them coffee and blood tests, and see if you can’t scrape together something resembling food. Not that god-awful lasagna we had for dinner. That’s not even suitable for feeding to the pigs.”
“Yes, Dr. Abbey,” said the taller of the lab techs. He turned to the group. “If you’ll come with me?”
“Of course,” said Mahir. “Shaun—”
“Don’t.” I gave him a pleading look. “All of you, please, don’t. We’ve said everything that needs to be said. So don’t, okay?”
“All right,” he said, and turned to follow the lab tech. Maggie cast an uncertain glance back in my direction and did the same.
Alaric lingered for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Finally, he said, “Say hello to Georgia for me,” and fled, leaving only me, Becks, and Dr. Abbey behind. And Joe, of course. He sat next to Dr. Abbey, tongue lolling and tail wagging. He was the only one of us not equipped to understand the gravity of the situation, and I sort of envied him that.
Dr. Abbey looked at Becks. “Not hungry?”
“I’m not leaving until I know what you’re going to do with him.” She kept her gun trained on me as she spoke, professional to the last. Her hand was shaking only slightly. I didn’t do as well when I was in her position.
“Fair enough. Come on, Shaun.” Dr. Abbey waved for me to follow her as she turned and started down the nearest hall. She didn’t call for anyone else to keep an eye on me. I guess she figured Becks would be enough.
We walked maybe twenty yards deeper into the building, moving around towers of cardboard boxes and past hastily constructed metal racks. Lab techs moved past us constantly, grabbing this and that and vanishing down hallways or through doors. I guess moving an entire virology lab isn’t a simple task.
Dr. Abbey grabbed a blood testing unit from one of the shelving units and kept walking, offering nods and quiet greetings to some of the lab techs we passed. She stopped only when we reached a door labeled ISOLATION III. “In here,” she said, and opened it. I didn’t move. “What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get in.”
