The Chemist

The first smaller bag she opened had no medical supplies – instead, there were little packets of documents neatly rubber-banded together for easy sorting. She quickly pulled out a Canadian passport and glanced at the ID page. As she’d expected, there was a photo of Kevin with a different name – Terry Williams. She glanced up. Kevin had his back to her. She grabbed two of the packets and stuffed them into the bottom of her backpack, then zipped the bag closed.

These particular items wouldn’t be of any help to her, but she had to be prepared for other outcomes. She peeked at Daniel; he wasn’t paying attention to her, either. He was looking at the array of knives with a disbelieving expression. It made her wonder how long he could survive on his own with what he’d learned so far.

Alex pulled open one of the bigger bags but wasn’t thrilled with what she found inside. It was a fairly basic kit, with nothing that she didn’t already have. She checked the next bag, then the last. Nothing that wasn’t in the first.

“What’s missing?” Kevin asked.

She jumped slightly; she hadn’t heard him approach. He must have read her disappointed expression.

“I’d like access to some decent trauma supplies, just in case…”

“Okay. Grab up whatever else you want here, and then we’ll go get some.”

“Just that easy?” she asked skeptically.

“Sure.”

She raised one eyebrow. “We’re going to walk into a medical facility and ask to purchase some surplus?”

“No!” He made a face implying the stupidity of her suggestion. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase It fell off a truck? You got some of that knockout stuff on you now?”

“Yes.”

“Then hurry, so we can get out there before all the trucks have finished their deliveries.”

Alex’s backpack was now stocked with ammo for her various appropriated guns – the SIG Sauer, the Glock she hadn’t abandoned, the shotgun, Daniel’s rifle – and her own PPK. She’d taken two extra handguns from the stash, because you never knew, and ammo for those as well. From the tech case she’d grabbed two sets of goggles, some trackers, and two EMP generators of different sizes. She wasn’t sure what she would use any of them for, but she might not have time to get back here if there was an emergency. While she shopped through his gear, Kevin reset the lock so that the usual birth-date code would let her back in.

Or Daniel, if things really went south.

“So, what are my options for chemically incapacitating another human being?” Kevin asked when they were back on the road. Alex drove this time.

“Let’s see… do you want airborne or contact?”

Kevin gave her a sidelong look. “Which do you recommend?”

“Depends on your approach. Will the target be in an enclosed space?”

“How would I know? I’ll be improvising.”

She huffed out a breath. “Fine. Take both. Daniel, can you grab the perfume bottle in the outside pocket of my backpack? It’s in a Ziploc bag.”

“Found it,” Daniel said after a minute. “Here.” He passed it up to Kevin. Kevin turned it over in his hands.

“Looks empty.”

“Mm-hm,” Alex agreed. “Pressurized gas. Now,” she said, stretching her left arm across her body and holding her hand toward him. “Take the silver one.”

He pulled the ring off her third finger, and then his eyebrows mashed down in surprise when the tiny clear tube and attached rubber squeeze pouch came out one after the other, like a couple of handkerchiefs from the sleeve of a mediocre magician. His expression turned skeptical.

“What’s this supposed to do?”

“See the little hatch on the inside? Swing it open. Be careful.”

Kevin examined the tiny hollow barb, then looked at the little round rubber bag. It was quiet enough to hear the faint sound of liquid sloshing inside.

“Hold the pouch in your palm,” she directed, pantomiming as she explained. “Put your hand down hard on your target.” She gestured to Daniel, who obligingly held out his arm. She grabbed his wrist – not violently, just forcefully. “The subject will feel the prick and try to pull away automatically. Hold on. If you’re doing it right, the liquid in the pouch will be expelled through the barb.” She released Daniel when she finished.

“And then what happens?” Kevin asked.

“Your target takes a nap – for an hour, maybe two, depending on his or her size.”

“This thing is tiny,” he complained, holding the ring between his thumb and forefinger and staring through the hole.

“Sorry. I’ll try to have bigger hands for you next time. Put it on your pinkie.”

“Who wears a pinkie ring?”

She smiled. “I think it will suit perfectly.”

Daniel chuckled.

Kevin shoved the ring onto his littlest finger, but it made it only over his first knuckle. The pouch barely reached his palm. He’d need more tubing if he ever wanted to hide it in his sleeve. He frowned at the apparatus for a moment, then suddenly grinned. “Neat.”

Daniel leaned forward and gestured to the rings Alex still wore. “What do those other two do?”

She lifted her right hand, wiggling her ring finger with the gold band. “Kills you easy.” She held up the middle finger of her left hand with the rose-gold band. “Kills you hard.”

“Oh, hey!” Kevin said in sudden realization. “Is that what that girlie slap back in West Virginia was about?”