“I don’t understand any of this, but I’m guessing Holtz will,” Collincz finally said. “Come with me; we’ll see if he’s still awake.”
She led them back through the plastic sheet to the rear of the building, which had so much lab equipment they might as well have walked into a government research facility. There were glass containment vestibules with protective rubber gloves hanging from their sides, vials upon vials stacked in centrifuges, beakers, microscopes, and powerful overhead lights that were all darkened. An electric lantern on a nearby table threw bleached light against everything in the room. In the furthest corner was a simple cot covered with black woolen blankets. A tall man with a shock of white hair and a few days’ growth of matching stubble on his long face lay beneath the covers. His eyes were open, and he stared at the ceiling that the rain continued to hammer against. Beside his bed was a simple steel tray holding a paper, pen, and a worn leather wallet. Collincz brought them to the man’s bedside and leaned into his line of sight.
“Doctor Holtz? There’s some people here to see you.” Holtz’s glazed stare never wavered. “Doctor? Could you maybe talk with them for a bit?” When the man didn’t so much as blink, Collincz held the sheet of paper with the signatures on it before his eyes. “Does any of this make sense to you, sir?” Holtz looked through the paper, a drop of saliva gathering at the corner of his mouth. Collincz held the paper steady for another few seconds and then stood back from the prone man.
“I’m sorry,” she said, handing the sheet back to Quinn. “He was completely comatose for over a day, and when he woke up, he took a few sips of water and chicken broth before becoming catatonic. I have no clue as to whether or not he’ll snap out of it. He could be like this for another hour, or…” She let her sentence trail off as another bolt of lightning ripped through the sky.
“I’m hungry,” Ty said in a low voice.
Collincz smiled. “I bet you are. How would you like a bowl of soup to warm you up and some dry blankets to cuddle into?”
Ty nodded, his face turned toward her voice. “That would be great!”
“Good. And what does your dog like to eat?”
“He’ll have soup too.”
“Ty,” Alice said, frowning. The two soldiers laughed, and Ty grinned slyly.
“How about some lunchmeat?” Wexler said. “We have some that’s going to go bad in a day or two.”
As the soldiers busied themselves preparing a meal and places to sit, Quinn moved to Holtz’s cot and looked down at the old man. His eyes were brown and bloodshot with layers of wrinkles surrounding their edges. His skin was like papyrus: jaundiced and so thin it looked as if it would tear at the slightest touch. Quinn leaned over him, feeling Holtz’s gentle breaths on his face.
The doctor’s eyes met his own for a split second before unfocusing again.
“Quinn?”
Alice’s voice so close made him jerk.
“Yeah.”
“What were you doing?”
“Seeing if there’s anything worthwhile here,” he said, moving past her. “C’mon, let’s eat.”
~
The rain continued through the afternoon, the sky hanging low and heavy, split only by the occasional streak of lightning. They ate cold sandwiches and hot tomato soup followed by a chocolate protein bar identical to the one Wexler had consumed earlier.
“Eat as many as you’d like. And don’t worry,” he told them as he tossed the bars across the small folding table. “We’ve got plenty of them.”