“I would assume proximity to you would excite molecules to some degree. Some things may incinerate or covalent bonds could break down. Perhaps even...” He stopped tapping his fingers and mimed an explosion with his hands.
“I’ve had things go bang, yeah,” said Barry. “I feel really queasy if I come in contact with too much solid matter. I think it may be some kind of psychosomatic warning or something.” He shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth and paused to yawn. “Sorry. Minor food coma setting in. It’s been a while since I got to gorge myself like this.”
Shelly sipped his coffee. “Are you short on supplies out in Los Angeles?”
“Not short, but we definitely don’t have tons of excess. Ammunition’s running low, so our scavengers are using knives and machetes a lot more these days. We’ve managed to set up a decent-sized garden in the Mount, and we’re breeding chickens in one of the other lots, so there’s meat and eggs.”
The colonel dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Where did you find chickens in the middle of Los Angeles?”
“There were a bunch of families from Mexico and South America who kept them in their back yards. Lots in Chinatown and Little Tokyo, too. Some of them found shelter with a group calling themselves the Seventeens.”
“The Seventeens?”
“They were a street gang that survived. They saw the Zombocalypse as a chance to go all Road Warrior and start their own little kingdom. When a bunch of them came to live with us, they brought about fifty chickens with them.”
“If I may,” said the doctor. His voice trailed off as he twisted his napkin once or twice. He set it back down next to his plate and smoothed out each wrinkle with his finger. “Ummmm, how did you acquire your abilities?”
Barry took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat. “There was an accident involving a particle accelerator, a liquid lunch, and a pair of rubber bands.”
Shelly smiled. The doctor looked up. For the first time in the course of the meal it seemed like he’d noticed Barry sitting there. “What did you say?” His eyes were wide.
“It was a joke. Didn’t you ever read Life, the Universe, and Everything?”
“Was that Carl Sagan?”
“Douglas Adams,” he said, yawning again. “Is it really warm in here?”
The doctor and the colonel exchanged a look. “It’s always a little warm during the day,” said Shelly. “The curse of being in the desert. You get used to it after a while.”
Barry glanced up at the air vent. Little strips of colored paper fluttered in the breeze pumping out of it. He took in a deep breath and stopped himself before he yawned a third time.
Shelly and Sorensen looked at him. Sorensen’s eyes flitted to the coffee mug.
“You fuckers,” Barry said.
He focused inside himself, reached for the trigger in his cells that would turn him back into Zzzap, and the yawn pushed its way out. He tried to shove the wheelchair away from the table but his hands slipped and his head dropped. He heaved his chin back up, clenched his eyes shut, and tried to force the change. The trigger stayed just out of reach, and he realized he couldn’t pry his eyes back open.
He heard a clatter and felt something warm on his forehead. His last clear thought was that he’d collapsed in his scrambled eggs and it was a waste of perfectly good bacon.
There were voices he couldn’t understand, a sense of movement, and his final shreds of consciousness faded to black.
Chapter 15
NOW
Smith helped Danielle out of the Black Hawk and guided her out from under the slowing rotors. Freedom held out a hand for Stealth, but she ignored him and walked after Smith. The wash from the helicopter blades whipped her cloak around her like a bonfire of black flames.
Project Krypton was a collection of brick buildings painted milky white in the middle of miles of sand and rocky hills. At first glance the base didn’t look that different from the dozen or so colleges or corporate campuses Danielle had spent time on, just with more lava rocks than grass. It wasn’t until she registered that everyone’s clothing was tan that it started to seem “military” to her.
A sergeant waved Smith over and he left Danielle standing on her own. The redhead looked at the open yard, the sprawling space between structures, and on the other side of the buildings, just a few hundred feet to the west, the three chainlink walls with gaunt figures pushing against the outside fence. Even with the huge open space, the sound of clicking teeth danced on the edge of her hearing.
Her arms pulled in tight around her. She turned to check on the armor, wondering how soon before she could get it back on, and saw Stealth a few feet away.
“It’s weird,” Danielle said, “being outside without the suit on. Outside somewhere else, y’know?”
The cloaked woman looked across the tarmac at Smith, then at one of the nearby buildings. “Perhaps we can arrange for you to wait indoors while they finish unloading.”
She shook her head. “I’ll wait until they finish.”
“I shall remain with you, in that case.”