Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I shiver despite the muggy heat inside the suit. These musings will get me nowhere. I just need to run the data on this blood, upload it to my computer, then return to my apartment where I can research on my own after the others are gone.
“Yo.” Wyatt walks in wearing another suit. “I thought you might be in here.”
“Aang?” I ask.
“He’s sleeping. I gave him some of my top shelf gummies after we talked for a long time.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“I’m all right.” He shrugs. “Just worried about him. Gretchen’s sitting with him now.”
“Good. He doesn’t need to be alone.”
“What are you doing?” He peers over my shoulder.
“Working up the sample from yesterday.”
“Yeah, I kind of left in a hurry. Shit, did I lose a vial?”
“It’s okay. There are plenty to look at. All in good condition. Centrifuge is almost done.”
“Cool. Um, on another note, there are some dudes out front. The major, too. They seem to be confused. They think we’re going to Atlanta.”
Damn. I’d wanted to tell all of them at the same time, but it looks like I won’t get the chance.
He must notice the guilty look on my face. “Wait, are we going to Atlanta?”
“It’s not safe here anymore,” I say quickly. “The people that came to kill us last time—the Saints—they’re working up to another attack. They’re coming in a few days, and this time they’ll bring more numbers and more firepower. They intend to burn us out.”
“Shit. Why?”
“Conspiracy theories.” I shrug, but the movement doesn’t translate while I’m in the protective suit. “They think we’re trying to kill them. They think we’re, I don’t know, bioengineering another plague or switching people’s blood for shits and giggles. I got nothing, really. It’s all bonkers, but repeat a lie enough, and people start to believe it. I guess there’s been a whole hell of a lot of repeating going on.”
“Misinformation to the point that they think we’re the bad guys. That’s pretty fucked up. The Army can’t keep them out of here?”
“Apparently not. Or, at least not without major loss of life.” I touch the plasticky arm of his suit through the plasticky hand of my own. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’d planned to, but then … Well, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs so heavily his view window fogs a little. “Atlanta, then? With Director Hamberg on our asses all the damn time?”
“Yep. He’ll be so pleased to see us. I bet he’s already blowing up balloons and making welcome signs.” I glance at the centrifuge that’s slowing down. “I’ll finish up in here if you wouldn’t mind helping Major Barker by showing him what they can take. We should probably get going tomorrow.”
He gives me a small salute. “I’m on it.”
“Don’t let them scratch your records.”
“Fuuuuck.” That gets him moving faster, worry in his steps.
I smile a little, then unload the centrifuge and work on imaging the cells. The microscopes are programmed to photograph everything in quick succession, so I load the blood and the plasma in their respective areas and set the programs to running. It takes a while, but once it’s done, I label and store the samples in the refrigerator, then return to the lab to give the images a look.
Evie barrels up to me. “Wyatt said we’re evacuating?”
“Yeah.” I open my laptop as soldiers load stacks of journals into moving boxes. “It’s not safe here anymore.”
“But we were close!” She shakes her head. “The samples you—” She cuts herself short. “Those samples.”
“I already ran a vial through. Want to look at results with me? It’s going to take them all day and night to move all the stuff we need.”
“Yes!” She follows me to my desk and pulls up a rolling chair.
“Did you see Aang?” I ask as I fire up my laptop.
“I went back in the wee hours and listened at his door. He and Wyatt were talking, and he sounded relatively okay. I didn’t knock. I—”
“Whoa there, partner.” Wyatt adopts a cowboy accent as he steps between two soldiers and his record collection. “Let’s save those babies for last, okay? They’re pretty darn tootin’ special.”
The soldiers simply look at each other and then move along down the row.
“Doctor?” Major Barker is at the doors.
“Yes?” All three of us answer.
“Dr. Clark,” he corrects.
“I knew it,” I grumble and tell Evie not to open the imaging until I get back. I don’t want to miss a thing.
“You don’t waste time.” I press myself against the wall as soldiers carry some boxes past me.
“Not in the habit of it, no.” He gestures toward the same spot where we talked before.
“What’s going on now?” I say it more snappily than I mean to, but I guess all the stress is getting to me. There’s no way it couldn’t.
“We’ll have the lab cleaned out by end of day, then we’ll work on the individual living quarters. Please make everyone aware that they should take what they need, nothing more. The road to Atlanta isn’t without its pitfalls. If we come across any trouble, we may have to divert to rail travel. Best to be prepared to move and move quickly if any sort of situation arises.”