Ah, prison. Exactly where I wanted to be.
Frankly, a few more days in lockdown sounded downright heavenly after the amount of shit we’d all just seen. I was perfectly willing to trade wandering the streets, dealing with talking zombies and running around without a gun for some good iron bars and the relative safety of the indoors. Iron bars actually sounded damned reassuring.
And they might have been, if they’d stuck us in a proper jail cell.
Instead, we were hurled into what had clearly once been the lobby of a quasi-fancy firm, filled with giant plush chairs and a few cots that had probably been hastily added during the initial apocalypse, when the place had no doubt doubled as a place to seek shelter. The large receptionist’s desk still had a computer on it, though the thing was off—probably useless, even though the room itself still seemed to have power.
It was also occupied.
“Well, well, well,” Gloria Fey said, glancing up when the uniformed guards hauled us inside. “I was wondering when you guys would piss him off enough to get tossed in with us.”
“Bring him here,” one of the soldiers said.
“Wait,” Dax exclaimed behind me. Someone must have pushed him, because suddenly he was right next to me, alarm plain on his face. “This is a mistake,” he said. “Whatever they did, I wasn’t involved. I barely know them!”
I stood there swaying for a moment, listening to Dax plead his case to the soldier. “Gloria,” I said. “You’re okay. And Jay?”
A hand stuck up from a bed tucked against one of the corners. “Hi,” Vijay said. “We’re good.”
A few days ago I would have flung my arms around them both and squeezed until they complained about lack of air. Now I just stood there swaying, unable to really move, visions of Alyssa and her staring eyes floating across my imagination.
“I swear,” Dax said, “these people are fucking crazy. I had nothing to do with it…”
Keller’s henchman stuck his hand over Dax’s mouth, effectively cutting him off mid-protest, and then shoved him aside. “You will all stay here until your sentence is carried out,” he said.
“There’s been a mistake,” Dax said.
“Sentence?” Tony demanded. “I demand a trial. Or a court martial.”
“You want a court martial?” Keller shoved his minion aside and stomped into the lobby to stare at us. “You’re accused of assaulting a medical professional, conspiring to stage a coup, and aggravating the undead. You’re guilty. Sentence to be carried out ASAP. There. Court martial complete.”
Tony eyeballed him. “You’re not a JAG.”
Keller opened his mouth, realized he didn’t need to argue with a prisoner, and whirled around. He stormed out with his men and the door slammed shut behind them. Several locks twisted into place.
I’d started my time in Hastings in prison, and now it looked like I might end it there. How charming. I’d come full circle.
I plunked myself down on the nearest unused cot. On the plus side, there appeared to be plenty of sheets and pillows, including a huge pile of extra ones on a cot in the back. I pulled several of them on top of myself.
“Vibeke,” Gloria said. “Tough day?”
I grunted a confirmation. I should have hugged her, at least. Should have been happy to see her alive. But right now she was just one more fucked up part of what had turned out to be an an extremely fucked up day.
“Will one of you tell me why they dragged me out of work and threw me into jail?” Dax said. “What the fuck did you guys do?”
“I suspect it had something to do with Vibeke helping the mad scientist set up his next bullshit experiment.” Tony swung around to look at Dax. “You do remember Logan Andrews coming over in a tizzy last night? It got worse.”
Dax turned about five different shades of red, and then he whipped his head around to glare at me. “Can’t you find normal medical professionals to hang out with?”
“He said it was an antibiotic!”
Vijay unfolded himself from his spot by the corner and straightened up, his back cracking softly as he did so. “I feel like there’s a bigger story we’re not getting,” he said. “Antibiotics? Mad scientist? What the hell is going on out there?”
“I have no fucking idea,” I said. I looked around our sad little lobby again. “So what is this supposed to be? This isn’t jail.”
“Oh, this is solitary confinement. Except it’s not solitary. Also, I think their real brig got overrun.” Gloria offered up a humorless smile. She stretched out a hand, gesturing to our admittedly interesting surroundings. “We’re in the lobby of MaxCorp Tests, which I believe distributed some of those standardized tests the news kept covering.”