Giving in to the faint itch, Daniel used his nails. Head down, he scrubbed at his neck and jawline until the initial relief slowly turned into something almost painful. Exhaling, he swung his head up, hands on the sink as he leaned in and looked at his reflection.
“My God, it’s almost perfect,” he said as he turned his head one way and then the other. It was beautifully ugly, even if it was starting to itch again. He didn’t look like he had the plague, but it was vastly better than the makeup. “How long until it goes away?” he asked as he and Orchid looked at it together, a new hope filling him. He would not let Kal get away with this.
“If you’re sensitive to it, it can last for days, but if you leave it alone, morning?”
“Fantastic,” he whispered. “Orchid, you are amazing,” he said, and the tiny woman blushed. “This is going to work. Can you come with me, or should you stay here with the warmth and a food source?”
“I’m coming,” she said as she rose up to find a perch on top of a stall. “Besides, I haven’t found a husband yet.”
He strode to the door, hesitating. He didn’t have a hat to hide her, and there was no guarantee that one would stay on his head if he was playing sick. “Ah . . .” he hedged.
“I’ve got this,” she said as she hovered near the ceiling, waiting for him. “You lunkers never look up.”
“If you’re sure,” he said as he opened the door and the sounds of the arena slipped in to draw him out. He went back to his cot with a new sense of hope, nodding at everyone who met his eyes. Thomas, Phil, and Fred were all there, their heads together as they talked in urgent tones. Thomas noticed him first, and he drew himself up, his expression pinched with worry.
“Daniel, I don’t . . .” Thomas hesitated, his eyes lingering on the welts. “Good God,” he said, and the two men with him turned to see. “What happened to you?”
Daniel grinned, the satisfaction almost unbearable as their frightened expressions turned to wonder, then relief. “I think I’m allergic to something in the soap,” he lied.
Thomas stood, using a finger to shift Daniel’s chin and carefully eye the welts. “They don’t look exactly the same,” he said as he let go and dropped back, smiling. “But this is a lot better than what we were going to do.”
“Which was?” Daniel looked across the arena to the clock. It was almost time.
Phil chuckled. “Beat you up so bad they’d have to take you to the hospital in the morning. It’s too late for the regular run. If you want out tonight, you have to play dead and try for the morgue.”
Daniel laughed, then sobered when he realized they were serious. “So now what?” he said, nervously fidgeting. Orchid would find him. She was a clever woman.
Phil gestured grandly at the cot. “Your chariot awaits,” he said, and Daniel settled on the bed, feeling awkward as he took his shoes off and set them beside the pair of loafers already under there. “I’ll go get ’em,” the young man added cheerfully, then jogged across the arena to the communications desk, weaving between the cots as if they were the back streets of his town.
“The morgue,” Daniel said, not looking forward to trucking out among the dead. But for Trisk, he could do it. It felt as if he was starting on a trip, and he scratched his neck as he settled back beneath the blanket to play dead. “Thank you for everything,” he said, staring up at the blue canopy. “If this works and I get out of here, I’ll put an end to this. I promise.” Seeing Thomas’s worry, he stuck his hand out and the larger man took it. “I’ll try to find you when this is over. We can have a beer.”
“I’d like that,” Thomas said, letting go and moving to shake his pillow free from the case. “I just wish you could have stopped it before it started. Here they come. Take off your glasses and try not to blink when they uncover your face. Shallow breaths. If they don’t get you on tonight’s truck . . .” He hesitated, his pillowcase in hand to drape over Daniel’s face. “You’ll get on tonight’s truck. It always comes after the hospital van.”
But it wasn’t a sure thing, and Daniel tucked his glasses in his pocket and closed his eyes, trying to hold his breath as the case settled over his head. He could hear Phil coming closer, the man jabbering about how he wanted the cot sterilized.
“I’m telling you, that cot is cursed,” Phil said loudly. “That’s the second man to die in it in two days. Can I have a new assignment? I won’t be able to sleep beside that. No way!”
Daniel forced himself not to move when someone shook his arm and then pulled the shroud off. “Sir? Sir, are you awake?”
“He’s dead,” Thomas said bitterly. “Could you do us a favor and take him before his bowels let go?”
“Good God, yes,” a higher voice said. “Rob, run back and keep the truck from leaving.”
“You got it,” a third voice said, and then there was the sound of sneakers on the court.
Daniel let his arm sag as they picked him up using the blanket he was wrapped in, and he figured it was Thomas who tucked his arm back, giving it an encouraging squeeze.
“What about me being moved?” Phil questioned.