“Gut-shot and cranky, but the doctors say she’ll live,” said Shaun. “Is there any news about Alisa?”
“You haven’t been looking at the non–world shattering news feeds recently, have you?” Dr. Abbey paused to hang her rifle from a hook on the wall and said, “Alisa Kwong was removed from the Ferry Pass Refugee Center two days ago when well-known Internet journalists Stacy and Michael Mason made an eloquent plea for custody of the tragically orphaned girl. They ran their reports from just outside the interdicted zone, making it impossible to shut them down without causing a massive Internet shitstorm. So the feds gave them the kid. Alisa’s been e-mailing Alaric constantly. He can’t tell her where we are, but being able to communicate with her without worrying about the mosquitoes getting into the facility where she’s being held is doing them both a world of good. We’ll worry about getting her back when it’s safe.”
Her words were clearly directed at Shaun, who nodded, a serious expression on his face. It was still a little weird, seeing him look so grave about something that wasn’t related to risking his neck or getting a good ratings share. His priorities had shifted while I was gone.
He shot me a look, a smile curving up one corner of his mouth. Well. Not all his priorities.
“This is impressive,” I said. “Did you set this all up yourself?”
“Golly-gee, Miss Clone, no! The government used to set up surprise scientific research facilities all over the country, just so they’d be around for people to stumble into when they were needed. If you break a few jars, you’ll probably find guns and bonus lives inside.” Dr. Abbey’s smile was closer to a snarl, leaving her teeth half bared. “We’re here for your amusement.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You could have just said ‘yes.’ ”
“And miss the opportunity to see what you’d do if I called you stupid?” Dr. Abbey’s smile faded. She grabbed a small testing unit off one of the shelves, lobbing it at me. I caught it. She nodded slightly, apparently taking a mental note of my reflexes. “Go ahead and get yourself another clean blood result while we’re all standing here. I want a portable sample.”
“Doesn’t Shaun get one?” I asked, concerned. The unit was heavier than I expected, with no visible lights on the top.
Dr. Abbey actually laughed. “You mean he didn’t tell you? The lucky boy’s immune.”
“Probably due to extended exposure to someone with a reservoir condition, which brings us back to you, Georgia.” The man who walked up behind her was clearly of Asian descent, even if his accent was pure Hawaiian. He was wearing knee-length khaki shorts and sandals, which wouldn’t do a damn thing to save him if we had to run. He had a round face, and a kind expression that put my teeth instantly on edge. I was quickly learning that no one who looked at me kindly was planning to do anything I’d enjoy. Call it the natural paranoia born of dying and coming back to life again.
Shaun’s hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Dude,” he said, voice radiating suspicion, “who the fuck are you?”
The stranger’s smile didn’t waver. “I’m Dr. Joseph Shoji. You must be Shaun. You know, I don’t think this could have been engineered to go any better if we’d tried. I really had no idea how we were going to get the two of you into the same place, and then you go and manage to perform a rescue op—”
The rest of the word was cut off as Shaun let go of my shoulder, pushing me back a step, and lunged for Dr. Shoji. Becks and Dr. Abbey watched impassively as Shaun’s momentum drove the two men backward, stopping only when Dr. Shoji’s shoulders slammed into the nearest wall. I made a startled noise that was shamefully close to a squeak.
“You CDC asshole!” snarled Shaun.
“He’s not with the CDC,” said Dr. Abbey. Shaun didn’t seem to hear her.
“Bets on the crazy boy,” said Becks.
“Joey’s pretty mean when you get him riled,” countered Dr. Abbey.
I stared at them. “What are you two doing? Make them stop!”
“Sweetcheeks, there’s only ever been one person who could make that boy do anything he didn’t want to do, and she’s ashes in the wind.” Dr. Abbey’s gaze was assessing. “You’re close, but you’re not sure you’re good enough, are you? Now take that blood test.”
“You’re insane,” I said, and started to move toward Shaun and Dr. Shoji.
“Isn’t that what the ‘mad scientist’ after my name is meant to imply?” asked Dr. Abbey. Then she sighed. “Look. You can go along with what I’m asking, which isn’t much when you stop and think about it. Or you can try to intervene in Shaun’s attempt to throttle the life from my colleague—way not to fight back there, Joey—and I can have one of my interns shoot you where you stand. Pick one.”