The building housing Dr. Abbey’s new lab must have started life as the local forestry center. The front looked like pure glass until you got close enough to see that it was backed with she
et metal. Better yet, the trees had been cut back on all sides, making room for a massive parking lot that provided clear sightlines for anyone trying to guard the building from the infected… or, as we pulled up to park near what looked like the front entrance, from us. There was even a structure on the roof that might have started out as an observatory but would make a damn good shooter’s nest, if necessity demanded.
Becks was the first out of the van, and she had a gun pointed at my head before I could get my helmet off. I could have kissed her for that, if it weren’t for the history between us and the fact that I was probably contagious. Field protocol said I was to be kept under constant guard until I could be confirmed as uninfected, and somehow that didn’t seem likely to me.
I pulled off my helmet. The night air was cool, and even cold where it hit the sweat on the back of my neck. “Hey,” I said, wearily. My throat was a little dry, but that was all; I wasn’t experiencing any of the other symptoms I knew would signal the start of amplification. Just my luck. I would have to go and develop a sturdy immune system.
“Hey,” Becks agreed, with a small tilt of her head. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I want to go redline a test and get this over with.” Mahir, Alaric, and Maggie got out of the van, all three looking shaken and nauseated. I offered them a nod. “Hey, guys, you know how to set up a guard formation?”
“Yes,” said Alaric.
“No,” said Maggie.
“I have absolutely no idea,” said Mahir.
“That’s fine. Becks, Alaric, you guard me. Mahir, you guard Maggie.” I stepped away from the bike, leaving the helmet on the seat, and linked my hands behind my head. “Let’s go tell Dr. Abbey she has guests, shall we?”
I felt almost like we were parodying our approach to the CDC as we walked ward the building. Mahir and Maggie went first, followed by Becks, who walked backward so as to keep her gun trained on me. Alaric brought up the rear, his own gun out and, I knew, pointed at my head. If I showed any signs of turning, they’d take me down before I could do any serious damage. It was reassuring.
At least they’re well-trained, said George.
“There’s that,” I muttered. Them being well-trained might actually keep them alive for a little bit longer, now that they weren’t going to be my responsibility anymore.
We were still about ten yards away when the door opened. Dr. Abbey stepped into view with a shotgun braced against her shoulder and Joe the Mastiff standing next to her, looking more massive than ever. Maybe she’d been feeding him trespassers.
“So you came after all,” she said, eyes flicking over the group before settling on me. Her eyebrows rose. “And you’re under armed guard because…?”
“I was bitten about five miles back,” I replied. “There was a pack of infected in the woods. I’m pretty sure we killed them all, but you may want to send a cleanup crew, just to be certain.”
“We didn’t run a blood test because we didn’t want the results uploaded to the CDC database,” said Mahir. “Given the circumstances, it seemed somewhat… less than wise.”
My stomach sank. I hadn’t even considered that. “Shit,” I whispered.
Nobody expects you to be doing any heavy thinking right after a zombie tried to take your arm off.
“Says you.”
“So you brought him here?” Dr. Abbey shrugged, lowering her gun. “I would have settled for a bottle of wine, but I guess a new test subject and the location of some fresh corpses will do. Come on, all of you. Shaun, don’t try to touch anyone, or my lab techs will have to blow your head off.”
“That’s fair,” I agreed.
“Good boy.” Dr. Abbey smiled and stepped back, letting Becks lead the rest of us inside.
The new lab wasn’t as established as the old one, which meant it was more cluttered, with boxes everywhere, and didn’t yet have that ground-in “science” smell—strange chemicals, bleach, sterile air, and plastic gloves. This lab smelled rather pleasantly of cedar wood. That would change as things got up to speed. Maybe they could hang some of those little air fresheners, try to bring it back.
Of course, that assumed they were going to have time. Most of the shelving units had a distinctly temporary look to them, like this was just a stop on the way to some more distant destination. The mad science equivalent of pitching camp for the night.