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“Yeah, you do,” I said. “And welcome to the Rachel Hates Me club.” I gave her a quick hug. “I’m going to see if Jacques has a fix for Philip and me. I’m not too happy with the permanent rot thing.”
Naomi made a face. “I’m with you on that one.”
I left her and made my way to the treatment room where I found Jacques drawing a blood sample from Philip, while the other tech, Reg, worked at a computer on a counter nearby.
“Dr. Nikas didn’t document what he was doing,” Jacques said, face pale and voice unsteady. “He was adjusting as he went. He often works that way.” He pulled the needle from Philip’s arm. “Some notes. Nothing clear.”
This was an absolute fountain of words from the man. “It’s cool. We trust you,” I said, but I heard the high, thin worry in my tone. “It’s cool,” I repeated. Reg glanced over from the computer station and gave me a somewhat steadier smile, though his eyes held plenty of concern as well.
Jacques took the blood samples over to another table and began doing stuff with vials and machines. “He never leaves before a procedure is finished,” he muttered, distressed. “I never would have let you leave. I assumed it was complete. I should have known, should have realized something was wrong.”
“Hindsight is some awesomely useless shit,” I stated firmly.
“None of us could have known,” Philip said at the same time.
Jacques gave a slight nod, though the level of anxiety in his eyes remained the same. “I’ll run these and we’ll go from there. It’ll take about twenty minutes.” He gathered up the vials and moved to the adjoining room.
Philip took the small cup of pureed brains Reg offered him and downed it. The tiny mark from the injection faded, but the rotted areas stubbornly remained. He murmured a thanks to Reg and handed the cup back, then gave my shoulder a bump with his. Though, with the height difference, it was more like my shoulder met his bicep. “C’mon, ZeeEm, we can wait in the main room,” he said. “The lab boys don’t need us hovering over them.”
I turned with him toward the door. “ZeeEm? Seriously? Zombie Mama?”
A smile twitched. “You don’t like it?”
Tilting my head, I pretended to consider. “Y’know, it’s not bad. And I kinda like the idea of calling you ZeeBee.”
“Zombie Baby,” he groaned, then chuckled. “Okay, I deserved that.”
Grateful for the humor, I bumped my shoulder against him. But even with the brief distraction, the severity of the situation didn’t stay away for long. “Surely there’s someplace we can start looking,” I said as we made our way down the corridor. “There’s a crime scene somewhere, right? Wherever Pietro and the others were kidnapped?”
“We can check with Kyle and Naomi, but I’m sure security’s been on that all day.”
“And how much training do they have on crime scene investigation?” I asked with a frown.
A faint grimace touched his mouth. “Basic, but they won’t be calling in any experts.”
“Why not? If they report it to the police, do they have to mention that Pietro and the others are zombies?” My frown deepened. “The cops have a lot more equipment and training and connections. They’d stand a better chance of finding out what really happened.” But even as I said it I knew it couldn’t possibly work out that way. “Shit, no. If the cops investigated they’d find out about the rest. It’s why I didn’t report it when Saberton’s goons took my dad.”
Philip nodded. “The risks are too great. As
bad as the abductions are, exposure is worse.”
We entered the central lab. Kyle was still reading his book, and Naomi studied maps on one of the work station computers.
“So in the meantime we wait.” I sucked at waiting, being patient, and most other things that were supposed to come with that whole maturity thing.
“I doubt the Tribe is sitting on their hands,” Philip said. “What we do is another matter.” Worry tightened his expression, and I saw his gaze flick to the darkened patch on his arm.
“We need to see what Jacques comes up with first,” I said. How much help could either of us be if we couldn’t control the rot? And I didn’t want to think about Philip’s weird fit and his greyout in the parking lot.
I flopped into one of the chairs and amused myself by slowly spinning around. Kyle glanced at me once, snorted very softly, and then returned his attention to his book. Fine, I’d be picking him last for my hallway office chair bobsled team.
The glass doors slid open as Raul leaned in from the outer hallway. He swept his gaze around before it came to rest on Kyle. “Hey, Griffin, could I see you for a minute in the security office?”
Kyle carefully marked his page with a scrap of paper, set his book on the counter, and moved lithely to the door. Raul gave the rest of us a nod, then the doors slid closed behind the two.
I spun my chair again. “How long has it been?” I whined.
Philip leaned against a counter and folded his arms over his chest. “I think we’re up to a whole five minutes.” He straightened and patted his pocket. “Crap. Left my phone in the treatment room. Be right back.” With that he headed back the way we’d come.
