“He’s only half-Sioux,” I stated.
“Yeah.” Amy took another drink. “His mother was married to a guy in the tribe for about twenty years, but they divorced and his dad moved back to the rez. Davin grew up in Rapid City but would occasionally visit his father and relatives on the reservation after his parents split.”
“And he had siblings,” I added. “Two sisters and two brothers. They were all with him on the reservation when the outbreak occurred.”
“Yes, they all died, along with his dad, but his mom’s still alive. She lives in Rapid City.”
My head shot up. “She does?”
“Yeah, she never contracted the virus since Davin and his siblings were quarantined on the reservation. She was at home throughout that period.”
“Does she ever visit Davin? At the Compound?”
A frown briefly marred Amy’s features. “No, never.”
Of course. How stupid of me to even ask, but a part of me had hoped. Maybe, just maybe, they’d allow him that one, small gift. “What about contact with her? Do they keep in touch?”
“They used to.” Amy turned on her stool to face me better. “Before Dr. Roberts was promoted, Davin was allowed to recite letters to a social worker. All of the Kazzies were. Of course, nothing they touch could ever be removed from their cells, but the social worker would listen and record letters while sitting in the watch room. Davin and his mom wrote weekly to one another.”
“They used to allow social workers in the Compound?”
“Yeah, until Dr. Roberts took over. Things have really changed under his rule.”
I sat quietly for a minute, processing everything. “How come none of this is in his file?”
Amy’s brow furrowed. “Um, I don’t know. I guess we didn’t consider it relevant to the virus. Maybe we should add it in.”
“We should. All of us should know where he comes from. It’s important.”
“You’re right. It is.”
I took another drink, my mind whizzing as I thought about all of the sources I would need to find to compile a more well-rounded record of Davin. Birth records, school records, community rosters, even tax returns. All of it would give us a broader understanding of why Davin was the way he was.
Maybe it would help us get through to him better. Maybe he’d cooperate more, as Dr. Roberts called it.
“Do you think we could allow social services back into the Compound?”
Amy shook her head, her red curls bouncing. “I doubt it. Dr. Roberts seemed to enjoy taking that privilege away.”
“But is that standard practice? Do all of the other Compounds allow social workers? Maybe Dr. Roberts is breaking the rules?”
Amy frowned. “I honestly don’t know. Beyond 26, I don’t know much about how the other Compounds are run, but I’m assuming it’s somewhat similar to ours. Even though state law dictates how each facility is individually governed, we all have to follow the federal guidelines. So, maybe?”
We sat in silence for a minute.
A warm, dizzying feeling swept through me. I looked down at my mostly empty second glass. Am I intoxicated? Crap. I didn’t want to be drunk. I needed to think clearly right now, but since I’d never been drunk, I didn’t actually know if that explained this feeling.
I finished my beer and ran my finger through the wet ring it left on the bar. My vision swam in and out of focus. Yep, I must definitely be drunk.
Another beer appeared in front of me. I looked up at Sean’s retreating form. Great, just what I need.
I crossed my arms on the bar and rested my head on them, hoping the spinning feeling would stop. Another image of Davin flashed through my mind. I pictured him and Dr. Roberts staring at one another, the blatant animosity apparent to anyone. I lifted my head. “Why does Dr. Roberts hate Davin so much?”
Amy sighed. “I’m not sure, but I think it really pisses him off that Davin defies him. Davin doesn’t submit like the others do. He never has.”
Another dizzy feeling swept over me. I fought to stay focused. “So none of the others ever fight?”
Amy shook her head. “Not anymore. I guess Sage did initially, but that only lasted a few weeks. As you saw from today, it’s much easier for them if they submit.”
“Right,” I muttered darkly.
“And if you haven’t noticed, our boss doesn’t like his orders being questioned. He’s particularly hard on Davin because of his defiance.”
“I’ve noticed.” I took another deep breath and shakily brought my third beer to my lips.
I UNDERSTOOD NOW why some people drank as a way to cope with Makanza. It really did make the world disappear. When I woke the next morning, my head pounded like a drum beating to a bad techno song. Hard, loud, and steady.
But it didn’t stop my mind from shifting to Davin and everything Amy and I talked about last night. Dr. Roberts was a cruel sadist, and Davin paid the price because of that.
But that could stop. If enough of us worked together, we could stop what was happening in the Compound.
My cell phone rang, getting a wince out of me. I picked it up, wondering if I had any acetaminophen in my apartment. Drugs were always hard to come by, even over-the-counter ones. Only a few pharmaceutical companies still functioned.
“Hello?” I croaked.
“Are you coming back?”
The voice sounded familiar. “Amy?”
“Yep. I’m driving to work right now. Are you coming in today? Do you want me to pick you up?”
I suddenly remembered why she thought I may not come in. I never told her my ultimate decision on quitting. “Oh.”
“Meghan, I know yesterday was horrible, but please don’t give up. Fight for the Kazzies. The sooner we find a vaccine, the sooner they’ll go home.”
She was right, but I’d never told her I wasn’t giving up. My real work had only just begun.
“I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”
10 – WAITING
I felt differently about work over the next few weeks. The horrors were still there, but my purpose for working had changed. I became focused and driven, just like I’d been in grad school for the past three years. We needed a vaccine and soon. Except now, it wasn’t just the public I thought about. I wanted it for the people infected with Makanza too. It was the only thing that would set them free.
Working judiciously with Davin’s samples helped. Holding a part of him anchored me to my new goal. It made leaving each night hard.
I’d make myself go home, only because working twelve to sixteen hours a day, five days a week, required routine sleep to maintain that kind of schedule. As annoying as it was, my mind wouldn’t stay sharp if I got less than six hours in the sack each night.
My work ethic was something I’d adopted in grad school, so my body was used to the long hours. My co-workers, however, weren’t. Charlie and Mitch joked that I made them feel old.
When five o’clock rolled around, they’d pack up and go home. However, their teasing slowly turned into begrudging smiles and grunts of admiration. With each day, as I got to know my group more, I became more and more comfortable. Consequently, my anxiety calmed to a slow, trickling stream, versus the raging river it had been on my first day.
“Are you almost done?” Amy asked. She plopped down on the stool beside me, crossed her arms on the lab bench and collapsed her head on top of them. “We’ve got to get something to eat. I’m starving. And coffee, I need coffee.” She groaned, rubbing her eyes on her arms. “Thank God the latest coffee bean crops from Arizona have been good. Otherwise, I’d be passed out. I seriously don’t know how you keep up these hours. I mean, I know I said I’d help in any way I could, but this is killing me. Too bad I don’t have kids. Then I’d have an excuse to leave before nine every night.”
I grimaced sympathetically. It was Friday afternoon. Amy had worked with me late until the end of each day. By the time we’d leave tonight, it would be an eighty hour work week. She’d told me this morning it wa
s the most hours she’d ever worked in one week at the Compound.
“Just let me finish this, and then we can go to the cafeteria.” I carefully put the specimens away. They’d need to incubate anyway, so it was probably a good time to have lunch. Besides, I felt a little guilty that I was to blame for the dark circles under Amy’s eyes.
“Thank God,” she mumbled. “I feel like I could fall asleep right here.”
Amy yawned several times before we left our lab coats on the stools. Once out of the lab, we headed to the rail station and took the stairs at the end of our wing, disappearing into the subterranean levels. Other researchers waited on the rail system platform.
Among the researchers, I spotted a familiar face. Amy did too.
“Gerry!” Amy called, perking up.
The tall woman stood out amongst the men. Her olive skin and slanted eyes gave her an exotic look.
Gerry grinned broadly when she saw us. Walking over, she stuffed her hands in her lab coat and assessed us warmly. She looked similar from when we’d first met on that afternoon following that horrible morning in the Inner Sanctum. Tall and intimidating, yet there was a warmth about her.
Gerry gave Amy the once over. “Jeez, you look tired.”
Amy groaned in response.
“And… it’s Meghan, isn’t it?” Gerry cocked her head.
Gerry’s tone was friendly so I smiled tentatively. Regardless, my anxiety still cranked up a notch. I just wished everyone else would stop watching us.
“How’s everything going in your lab?” Gerry asked.
“Pretty good.” Amy yawned again. “We just started some new work on Davin’s samples. How about you?”
“Same. We’ve spent most of the week in the Experimental Room. Sara and Sophie have been hooked up to the EEG almost continuously. It’s fascinating. Did you know the other day we isolated the area in their brains where they communicate? Or at least we think we have…”
She trailed on. I was relieved to hear their group wasn’t hurting the Sisters. The EEG was painless, just time consuming. It was probably excruciatingly boring for the twins but nothing worse.
I tapped my foot and wrapped my arms tightly around myself as we waited for the train. The people around us seemed to be closing in. Since Gerry, Amy, and I were all women, we made a unique group. Men still dominated most of the staff at the Compound. I’d never felt more aware of that than I did right now. They kept looking at us.
A whoosh of air swirled around the platform as the train pulled into the station. I exhaled in relief.
“Did you hear about the teleconference with Compounds 10 and 11 on Monday, Meghan?” Gerry asked.
I cocked my head. “What teleconference?”
“Didn’t you see the email?” she asked as the train’s doors slid open.
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t checked my email since this morning.”
We sat in the back of the train, at least three rows away from the next researcher. I relaxed into my chair.
“I didn’t see it either.” Amy propped her elbow against the window and leaned into it. “What’s up?”
“Dr. Roberts emailed the memo an hour ago.” Gerry angled her body to face us. “Apparently, 10 and 11, the Compounds in Washington state, have discovered something.”
“Really?” Amy turned toward me. “Anytime a Compound makes a breakthrough, of any kind, there’s a nationwide teleconference between all of the Compounds. Following that, we also do an international one.”
The doors closed. With a soft shift in movement, we were off. “Do you know what discovery they’ve made?” I asked.
Gerry shook her head. “No, we’ll find that out Monday, but I’m not surprised. Compounds 10 and 11 are making a lot of progress out in Washington. They run their facility very differently from ours.”
I perked up. “How so?”
“For one, they allow visitors to see the Kazzies.”
“They do?” My brow furrowed. “But how can they do that? And keep things a secret?”
“Each Compound creates their own rules, which is fine as long as they’re following the federal guidelines,” Gerry explained. “A certain level of secrecy is always maintained, but Dr. Roberts has recently decided, here in our Compound, absolute secrecy is mandatory. Hence, why the Kazzies were cut off from their loved ones almost four months ago. However, some states are different. Washington is one of them. Dr. Hutchinson, the Director of Compounds 10 and 11, decided visitors were fine as long as their Kazzies didn’t divulge any information about Makanza. Their visits are monitored, but they’re still allowed.”
Since Amy had slumped against the window with her eyes closed, I scooted closer to Gerry. “How do you know so much about Washington?”
“I spent a summer out there a few years ago, on an internship.”
My eyes widened. “You spent a summer… in Washington? How did you do that?”
“Researchers can travel between the Compounds if it’s granted by the federal office. I’ve spent a number of months at four different Compounds now. The last one I worked at was 46, down in Alabama. It was seventy degrees in the middle of winter. It was bliss.”
I laughed at her expression.
Gerry smiled. “There’s a lot they don’t tell you in training.”
My thoughts drifted to Compounds 10 and 11 as the train sped along. The research papers I’d read, coming from Dr. Hutchinson’s Compounds, were more progressive than any others in the country. She was known for pushing the limits and trying new things. Her work was highly respected and distinguished. I’d give anything to meet her. Even if I stood tongue-tied in front of her, I’d love to be in her presence, just to see what she was like.
“I wonder what they’ve discovered.”
Gerry flashed me another smile. “We’ll find out Monday.”
THE WEEKEND CAME quickly, but all that meant was that it would be two more days of waiting for the teleconference. More than anything, I wanted to know what Washington’s Compounds had discovered. However, I had a lot of things to do to keep myself occupied. Everything had been neglected in my apartment since I’d started my job.
Piles of laundry sat in my room. My sheets hadn’t been washed in weeks. Food-crusted dishes sat forgotten on the kitchen counter. My entire apartment was a mess.
I’d also grown lazy about grocery shopping so opted to kill a few hours doing that. Anything to procrastinate on cleaning.
First thing Saturday morning, I dressed and hopped in my car. The South Dakota Food Distribution Center was a ten-minute drive from my apartment. When I arrived, I grabbed a cart and perused each aisle in my usual fashion. Planning a grocery list or menu ahead of time was impossible since one never knew what would be available.
Distribution Centers were in every city throughout the country, but the selection was never guaranteed. Food was not something any state had in abundance. A lot of times, shelves were bare or the produce section was pathetically lacking. Given it was only the beginning of fall, we still had a fair amount of fresh fruits and vegetables. Come winter, that would change.
Even though I hadn’t shopped in weeks, my weekly food allotment hadn’t changed. I was allowed three staples, seven items from the carbohydrate shelves, three from the meat counter, two from the dairy section, six from the produce area, and one free item. The free item I could choose from any section in the store, and I always chose the same thing: coffee. Staples never changed, though. They were always flour, sugar, and salt. Everybody needed those.
The Compound’s cafeterias were completely opposite from how most families lived. My eyes bulged every time Amy and I ate there. Not only were our meals free, but the selection was huge. There was a deli counter, a salad bar, two rows of hot items, and even a dessert bar. I felt guilty the first time I’d loaded my plate. Few were ever accepted into the MRI, but still, it didn’t seem fair that we were treated like royalty while some families scraped by on their food allowance week after week.
I round
ed a corner in the store, my cart squeaking. Scents of yeast filled the air. The bakery section was only two aisles over.
Stopping my cart, I assessed the selections. A young girl and a woman stood a few yards away. The woman’s brow furrowed as she contemplated the options. However, the girl raced to a package on the third shelf. She held it up to her mom.
“Can we get this?” A large smile spread across her face.
From the shiny wrapper, I knew what it was. A true luxury. Cocoa powder.
The girl couldn’t be older than five or six. Her dress looked like it had been handed down. She held up the small bag of cocoa. “Please, Mommy? Please? Can you make chocolate cake?”
Her mother frowned and squatted down, gently extracting the cocoa from her daughter’s hands before placing it back on the shelf. “We don’t have enough in our allowance. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
The girl didn’t argue. She just nodded and hung her head. I guessed this wasn’t the first time she’d asked for something they couldn’t buy. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.
I waited until they left the aisle before putting my coffee back and grabbing the cocoa. At the checkout, I pointed out the woman and child to the cashier. “Can you give this to them?” I handed her the bag.
Dalia was working today. She was one of the only workers I’d grown comfortable talking to. I also knew she’d do as I asked and not keep the cocoa for herself. “Sure, Meghan.”
As I left the store, guilt still pummeled me. Images of that little girl filled my thoughts.
Maybe I won’t pile my plate quite so high this week in the cafeteria.
I checked my watch. It was only mid-afternoon. In other words, there was still a day and a half until the conference. I sighed. More than anything I wanted to know what Compounds 10 and 11 had discovered.
11 – CONFERENCE
When Monday morning finally rolled around, I bounded out of bed before my alarm went off. The teleconference was here. By the end of the day, I’d know what Compounds 10 and 11 had discovered. With any luck, we’d be closer to a vaccine, which meant the Kazzies would be closer to freedom.
Compound 26: Book #1 in The Makanza Series Page 9
