nst the wall outside the main lab door. “Afternoon, Miss Crawford,” he said cheerfully.
“Hi, Billy, and you can call me Angel. Why are you stuck out here?”
“I’m a glorified gofer, ready and waiting for my next task.” He grinned. “Wait, did I say glorified?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “How long have you been out here?” Though he wore a dark suit like Fritz and Reno, he didn’t have the bulge of a gun under his jacket. Apparently he wasn’t part of her security team.
“About three hours now.” He pondered dramatically for a second. “Or perhaps it’s been three days?”
“You poor thing,” I said with a laugh. “Can’t you at least play solitaire or Bubble Popper on your phone?”
“No way, Miss Angel. If Dr. Charish caught me, she’d fire me like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“That sucks. I’d be dead of boredom by now!”
“Money’s good. I can handle it.” He winked. “For now, at least.”
“You’re a better man than I am. Er, figuratively speaking.” I grinned. “I’d better get to work. Catch you later, Billy.”
In the main lab room, soft jazz music floated over the low hum of equipment. Kristi perched on a stool in front of a computer while One-Ear Fritz leaned against a nearby counter, arms folded casually over his chest, but eyes sharp and watchful. Jacques and a Kristi-tech with a glorious chest-length auburn beard sorted through computer printouts at the center table. On the far side of the room, Brian and Rachel conversed quietly while still managing to keep an eye on everything.
Kristi glanced up as I pulled the garbage bag from my backpack. “You have the blood sample? Good.” She pointed at the bearded tech. “You there! Come take care of this.”
“Where’s Dr. Nikas?” I asked.
“He left about ten minutes ago by helicopter to return to his own lab. Being here, around new people, is hard on him.” She stated it frankly with no hint of derision.
“Yeah, it is,” I said, more than a little surprised by her show of actual empathy.
Beardzilla approached, wearing mask and gloves, and bearing a big zip bag marked with a biohazard symbol. I slipped a glove onto my right hand then lifted the towel out and dropped it into the biohazard bag. Though I couldn’t catch the shambler disease, I didn’t want to contaminate everything I touched later and endanger others.
The tech left the room with the bag while I stripped off the glove and shoved it into the medical waste bin. I started to throw the garbage bag in as well then thought better of it. Kristi was almost acting like a normal, feeling human right now, but I wasn’t keen on giving her full control over the blood sample. After checking that her attention was elsewhere, I stuffed the bag into my backpack.
“Is there anything else that needs doing?” I asked.
She swiveled to face me, gaze penetrating. “Tell me what happened in the bowling alley.”
Damn it. I hated turning over any sort of info to her, but Kristi was supposedly an ally, and needed to know. Holding back a grimace, I related the events with the same kind of precise detail I used when briefing Dr. Nikas.
She listened without interrupting, lips pursed in thought. When I finished, she tapped her pen on the pad and gazed at the ceiling, as if mulling over everything I’d said.
“Go back to the wounded one,” she said after a moment. “He was shot in the spine?”
“That’s what I figured since he stayed down. His upper body seemed to work fine, but his legs didn’t.”
“Interesting. And they took him to Tucker Point Regional, I assume?”
“Yeah. And if the others aren’t there, they probably ended up at the Tucker Point High School gym. Triage kind of thing.”
“All right. Let’s go.” Kristi logged out of the computer and slid off the stool. “Billy!”
He opened the door and stepped in. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Would you be a dear and drive us?”
Billy practically snapped to attention. “Yes, ma’am!” He dashed out.
“Us?” I shook my head. “Where are we going?”