“You should write up a dossier for it,” Malcolm joked but he saw Elaine’s eyes light up.
“I can map out routes from the marina to the mall and alternate launch points along the shore in case you can’t make it back to the marina. I can knock up an acquisitions list if Craig tells me what he needs.”
“I was just kidding,” Malcolm said but Elaine wasn’t about to let him wave it away. She was already off and running like a racehorse and there was no reining her in now.
“No, it’s better this way. You need to go in organized. I can get everyone’s measurements so you’ll know what clothes to bring back. I’ll also give you a list of the most nutritious food so you aren’t wasting time dragging back crap with empty calories.”
“Elaine, really, you don’t--”
“No, I want to,” she cut him off, a small smile on her lips. “Feels like old times.”
He had to admit it kind of did. Working out prelims for a mission with Elaine was all old hat for them.
“Who are you thinking of putting on your roster?” she asked.
“I’m on board,” Craig said but Malcolm shook his head.
“You still can’t carry anything heavier than your backpack. You’re staying here.”
“Come on, man. I know everything you are going to have to get.”
“You can make a list for us and we’ll get everything on it. I need people in top shape on this.”
Craig didn’t look happy but he didn’t say anything else, turning his annoyance towards his plate as he stabbed up his meatballs.
“Probably be best to bring Nas, Banks and Mendez for their experience,” Malcolm said, mentally adding the names to a list. “We also need muscle but Jackson is out of commission.”
“I can do it,” Trey volunteered, his hand shooting high in the air.
“Alright,” Malcolm said, “And that means your mom will want to come. I hate the idea of bringing our only doctor with us but we need him.”
“Considering the way things have gone on other runs, probably a good idea to have a doctor on the team,” Craig added around a mouthful of meatball but Malcolm ignored him.
“That’ll leave Veronica, Claudia and Lorraine to stay here on watch,” Elaine said. “Angela, Craig and I can sub them out while Janet and Jenny look after the kids.”
“Okay, so we all run over on the deck boat to the marina,” Malcolm said, mentally plotting out the moves, “But what do we do with the boat? We dock it in the marina, someone could come take it. Hauling it with us is going to be a pain in the ass.”
“What if I sail you over and bring the boat back to the island?” Craig suggested. “Hell, even better, what if I spend the day fishing nearby? Lorraine and I have been talking about taking one of the boats out to fish. We can do it while you guys are on the run. Then, when you guys are heading to the marina, you radio to us and we’ll be there waiting for you. Cuts out any waiting time for us to get back over from the island.”
Malcolm ran it over in his head and realized that it was the perfect solution. Any other plan would require them to wait at the marina for pick up, leaving them exposed. Having Craig waiting on them would cut down the time.
“Good idea,” Malcolm said and Craig smiled. “Jackson can handle watch with Veronica and Claudia. Elaine, you and Angela can sub them out when they need it.”
The others nodded and Elaine clapped her hands together. “Alright, we’ll plan to go in two days then.”
Malcolm grabbed up the last forkful of pasta and shoved it in his mouth, finding that it didn’t taste as delicious as it had before.
He’d thought they’d have a longer break. Here on the island, even with all the thoughts of watch towers and sowing crops to feed themselves, it was easy to forget the chaos that was still reigning on the mainland. Their little slice of paradise, where they could take a breath to plan their lives beyond the next day, where they could take the time to bake bread and laugh over a meal, made it easy to feel like the end of the world wasn’t that bad.
He should have known better than to think that they could leave it all behind. They might be far from the mainland but that didn’t mean that they could pretend it didn’t exist.
“I thought we’d have a bit longer before we had to go over there,” Trey said, echoing his thoughts. “Feels like we just got here.”
“Well, good news is that once we get the supplies for the tower, that’ll be it for a while,” Craig told him. “We can stay here, building towers and churning butter, if we get the cow that is.”
Malcolm snorted. “Not sure we’re going to find cows at a home improvement store.”
“You can swing by a farm, right?” Craig looked to Elaine. “You know about any farms close by?”
He pushed back his chair and grabbed his empty plate and silverware. “I guess I better start talking to the others about coming with us.”
“Tell them about the cow.” Craig grinned up at him. “They might come up with an idea on how to get it on the boat.”
Malcolm headed to drop his dishes off at the kitchen where Banks and Angela were already working on cleanup duty. Malcolm added his plate to the stack next to the sink and grabbed up a dish towel.
He moved over to join Banks at the dish rack and began to dry the plates that Angela had already washed.
“I was talking to Craig about the build,” Malcolm said. “His plans for the east tower have hit a snag. We need more supplies so we’re going to make a run to the mainland.”
Banks nodded, not needing to hear anymore. “I’m up for it whenever you are.”
Malcolm appreciated the man’s easy going attitude.
“Are you sure now is the right time to go back out there?” Angela asked.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” he said. “Besides, better we nail down how to do a successful run now while most of us are still fresh from being over there.”
“Who else are you thinking of taking?” Banks asked.
“Nas, Mendez, Trey, Kim, Quinton.”
“Good group.” Banks grabbed up a stack of dried plates and put them back in the cupboard. “We’ll kick ass, no problem.”
He liked the guy’s confidence. He needed all of them to have it. Here on the island, there was only the potential for danger. Over there, no potential, there was only reality. They would be out there in the open where they couldn’t control things.
“Did you talk to Elaine about where to go?” Angela asked, handing him another plate to dry.
“She knows a place. She’s going to map it out potential routes for us.”
“Just like back at Langley,” she mused as she soaped up another plate. “My uncle always said you two were the best team. You’ll do great.”
Hearing about the Director’s faith in him helped. It was a reminder that he had been chosen for this for a reason. The Director knew that they would need to leave the island. He wouldn’t have made sure the office in the lodge was full of local maps if he hadn’t planned for it.
If he was here, the Director would sign off on this without a second thought. He’d sit them down, pour a couple drinks and tell him that he simply needed to not think of anything but succeeding because succeeding was the only option.
“You’re right,” Malcolm said, as she pulled the stopper in the sink to drain the dirty water. “We’ll all do great.”
Subject File # 756
Administrator: I’ve seen you with the children. You’re very good with them. Did you have any of your own?
Subject: No, never any of my own but I spent some time in pediatrics during my internship. Kids who are sick are different than your average kids. They’re more pragmatic. They’ve learned that the world isn’t all games and fun and it sure as hell isn’t fair. The kids here, after what they’ve gone through, they’re the same. So I just try to do for them what I did for the kids at the hospital: show them that there is still some magic left in the world.
Quinton knew he should probably be spending his t
ime with his nose in one of the thick books from the lodge, like the Encyclopedia of Medicinal Plants that was sitting on his desk in the clinic, but he actually wanted to enjoy his evening. He didn’t have anywhere he needed to be tonight. A miracle of scheduling had given him not only the night off from kitchen duty but also the night off from watch. His next shift wasn’t until tomorrow morning which left him with nothing to do.
He had ended up nicking one of the paperback novels from the lodge that had dragons on the cover and an interesting blurb that promised high fantasy and adventure. He had taken it back to his cabin and settled himself on the porch, determined to relax in the cool evening breeze. He wouldn’t have much more time to relax after tonight.
Malcolm had told him after dinner that he intended to go to the mainland in two days and he wanted Quinton to come. The clinic was well stocked but it was still a finite supply. They couldn’t pass up the chance at adding to their stock. Malcolm didn’t want to waste time or space on anything useless and wanted to bring someone who would know exactly what they were taking.
He had no problem agreeing to go. Even if Malcolm hadn’t asked him to go, he would have volunteered anyway. They needed able bodies and if he bailed, someone would have to take his place and that would mean one of his sisters would go.
Better to have his sisters here where it was safe. They’d stay here and look after Janet and the kids and he would have one less thing to worry about while he was out there.
He knew that Janet could take care of herself but it made him feel better to know that his sisters would be here to help. It was strange to find himself worried about Janet and the kids.
For so long, the only people he ever worried about were his family. Even his patients had only gotten cursory apprehension from him, more concerned about performing a successful surgery than about the person. That detachment was needed to be a good surgeon who could confidently slice into someone’s flesh.
He knew it had bled over into his normal life. He had kept clear of serious relationships, avoiding commitment beyond a few nights of fun between the sheets. At least until he met Janet.
That’s what was strange about it. When the world had been good and he could have easily built a life with someone, he’d avoided it. Now that the world was broken and the future uncertain, he found himself falling for someone, envisioning a future together. It wasn’t logical but when had love ever been logical?
And that was the rub wasn’t it? He was pretty sure he was in love with Janet and he had no idea if she felt the same.
He’d always known with other women. In past relationships that were supposed to be just two people having fun, no strings attached, he’d always known when the women had caught feelings. There was a shift, something he could sense in their actions and words but with Janet there was nothing.
He knew she liked having sex with him. He could tell that every time she trembled beneath him as her fingernails dug into his back.
But love? That was another thing entirely and maybe if he didn’t sense it, it meant it wasn’t there. He knew a part of Janet would always love her husband but he wondered if she was still in love with him. Maybe that was what was holding her back with him.
Or maybe she just didn’t love him.
It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility and probably the most likely culprit. They hadn’t known each other that long. In the old world he would have been scared if a woman declared her love after such a short time.
Things were different now though. Death lurked at the door and it made everything seem much more urgent, their feelings that much more powerful.
The spectre of death also made it much more appealing to spend his time on the porch thinking about life and love. These quiet moments were few and far between and deserved to be indulged.
“Quinton!”
Well, so much for the quiet moments.
He was surprised to see it was Harold who was racing up the path towards him. He’d rarely seen Harold outside the clinic but now here he was, his cheeks red as he panted his way over to the porch.
Quinton was immediately on his feet when he saw the panic behind Harold’s thick glasses. “What’s wrong?”
“I need...your help,” Harold gasped. “He’s sick.”
Quinton jumped down the steps, his relaxing night forgotten. “Who’s sick?”
“Glen,” Harold said and the tension in Quinton dissolved.
“Of course he’s sick,” Quinton replied, annoyed that Harold had scared him over nothing. “He’s infected.”
“No, it’s something else,” Harold said. “I ran blood work and a spinal tap. I think it’s encephalitis. I need your help. Please!”
Harold was clearly distraught and so Quinton kept his pace quick as he followed behind the sweating, panting man to the clinic and down into the lab.
Glen was naked, the sheet that had covered him before balled up at his feet. He was still restrained and sedated but despite that, his limbs twitched like fish flopping around out of water.
Harold handed Quinton a chart and he scanned the results of the tests Harold had run. He was right. All signs pointed to the man’s brain swelling in his skull.
“Did you administer steroids?” he asked, handing him back the chart and cautiously approaching Glen. He reached out and put a hand on his chest, the skin scorching under his palm. Jesus, he was practically cooking alive.
“I have and it hasn’t helped,” Harold told him. “His temperature has only gotten higher. Infected people are warmer than us, usually a steady 101 but his temperature started to rise this morning and that’s how I knew something was wrong. It spiked to 106. I’ve tried everything to bring it down but it won’t budge.”
“I think the fever is a symptom of the swelling,” Quinton said. “If he had contracted a different virus, it would show up on the panel, same with any bacterial infection. I think it’s the infection causing the swelling.”
“You have to do something to help him,” Harold said, his big eyes wet behind his glasses.
Quinton didn’t want to tell him it was likely hopeless. Glen’s brain was cooking inside his skull and if the steroids hadn’t brought down the swelling, there wasn’t much he could do.
“I think this might be the natural progression of the virus. You built it off of rabies, right? If you don’t treat rabies, you die. Maybe, left untreated long enough, your virus kills too.”
“I can’t let him die.”
Quinton knew that his research was important to Harold and he felt compelled to give him a reason to let himself off the hook.
“We can take samples from him, enough for you to work with for a while. If it comes to it, we can go to the mainland and find more infected and get samples.”
Harold shook his head, his bald head furrowing as his eyebrows came together. “No, you don’t understand. I was supposed to find a way to reverse it. I’m supposed to fix him.”
Quinton felt bad for the guy. It hurt to have your delusions revealed for what they really were but Harold had to face it. There wasn’t any way they could heal the freaks. They were gone and he needed to accept that.
“Look, I know it sucks to lose your friend and I know you want to fix all this but there’s good in this.” Harold looked up at him, blinking in confusion. “If this is the infection killing him it means it has an expiration date. If the freaks burn themselves out and drop dead, we don’t have to worry about a vaccine. They die and they stop infecting people.”
Harold shook his head. “I promised Glen that I’d fix him. He got infected trying to help me, I have to help him back.”
Quinton remembered his own helplessness after Hillman and Alan were infected. He’d wanted desperately to fix them but with their deaths, he’d accepted that sometimes there were people you just couldn’t fix. You had to know when to let it go.
“Keep trying the steroids and see if it helps,” Quinton said. “Other than that, it’s a waiting game.”
“There’s nothing
you can do?” Harold asked. “No experimental treatment you’ve heard of?”
Quinton looked at the dying man and sadly shook his head. “I’m sorry. The only thing left to do is pray.”
Quinton left Harold to tend to his friend and headed back upstairs. He was careful to make sure the doors were locked when he left. Even with him sick, drugged and restrained, Quinton still needed to make sure that he couldn’t get out. Knowing that an infected person was here made him responsible for ensuring he didn’t escape.
An ever present sense of guilt had hung over Quinton since he’d found out about Glen. He didn’t like keeping secrets. There had been a few times he had considered telling Malcolm but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was sure that if Malcolm discovered that there was a freak on the island, he’d want it put down immediately and Quinton couldn’t let that happen.
It wasn’t just that he believed Harold had a chance to come up with a vaccine. He had given him his word that he wouldn’t say anything. His word was one of the few things he had left and it meant something to him.
He left the clinic and wondered what to do now. The thought of going back to his cabin to read didn’t seem so appealing now.
The lodge doors opened and Matthew and Mark came out with Claudia, all of them carrying empty Mason jars. Janet followed behind them with Hannah and Ruthie, who had their own jars clutched to their chests.
“Hey, Quinton, guess what?” Matthew called out to him as he hopped down from the deck. “We’re going to go catch fireflies. Claudia said there’s a bunch of them down by the reeds. You wanna come?”
“Sure,” Quinton said. “I happen to be pretty good at catching them.”
“Really?” Mark asked, giving him a doubtful look.
“You bet he is,” Claudia said. “Our family used to spend our vacations at this cabin in the woods. There was a pond by it and they used to take me out there to catch the fairies.”
“Fairies?” Ruthie asked, skipping up to grab hold of Claudia’s hand and she smiled down at the girl.
Sanctuary Page 49
