?A blood test. The field kit is next to you. The biohazard team won?t approach until we?re either checked out clean or dead.? I pulled my finger free, feeling the antiseptic tingle in the pinprick wound, and shook my hand briskly before depressing the signal button at the base of the kit. That would activate the built-in wireless transmitter, uploading the results into the CDC mainframe. A manual upload is only necessary in the event of a negative; the CDC doesn?t care, under normal circumstances, about the fact that someone isn?t about to turn into a zombie. Buffy?s results uploaded themselves the second the lights settled on red. Once you?ve tested positive, the CDC knows. Disabling the upload functionality of a blood testing unit is a federal offense.
Shaun mirrored my actions. He held out his hand and I passed him his test kit, which he dropped into one of the plastic bags he pulled from his belt. My test kit went into a separate bag, which he handed to me. Again in semi-unison, we pressed down the pressure seals, leaving our respective thumbprints on the corners of our bags. If they were tampered with in any way, the seals would turn scarlet and the kits inside would become worse than useless; they would become suspect.
?I? I?m not sure I can,? said Rick, swallowing. ?Buffy??
?Buffy?s dead, and so is Chuck. We need to know if you?re clean.? I handed the bag back to Shaun and moved to crouch next to Rick, picking up his test unit and popping off the plastic cover to reveal the pressure pad and needle inside. ?Come on. You know the drill. It?s just a little pinprick.?
?What if the lights go red??
?Then we?ll sit with you until the CDC gets here; they have better units than we do, and they?re on their way,? I said, keeping my voice as reasonable as I could. I felt like crying. I didn?t dare. Rick looked like he was barely holding himself together; if I started to cry, his control might shatter. ?Unless you actually start to convert, we?ll take no actions.?
?If the lights go red, you?ll take action immediately,? he said, and his voice was suddenly cold, devoid of hesitation. ?I want that bullet in my brain before I know what?s going on.?
?Rick??
He leaned forward, jamming his thumb down on the needle?s point. ?I?m not upset that you shot her, Georgia. I?m upset that she had to go that far before you could.? He tilted his face upward, looking to Shaun, then to me. ?My son converted before he died. Please do me the great kindness of letting me die while I remember his name.?
?Of course,? I said and straightened, stepping back to my customary place beside Shaun. He raised his right hand, placing it against the middle of my back, while his left hand moved to rest, ever so lightly, on the holster of his pistol. If we lost a second teammate today, the bullet wouldn?t be mine. Sometimes you have to spread the guilt around.
?I didn?t know you had a kid, Ricky-boy,? said Shaun, his tone almost jovial. ?What else haven?t you been telling us??
?I wear women?s underwear,? Rick said. Then, very slightly, he smiled. ?I?ll show you his picture sometime. He just? he?s the reason I left print media. Too many people there remembered him, and too many of them had known his mother. Too many people looked at me differently after I lost them. I still loved the news. But I didn?t want to be the news. So I found another way to get the story out there.?
The lights were flashing, red to green to red. ?What was your son?s name, Rick?? I asked.
?Ethan,? Rick said, his smile growing more sincere and coloring with sorrow. ?Ethan Patrick Cousins, after my father and his mother?s grandfather. Her name was Lisa. His mother, I mean. Lisa Cousins. She was beautiful.? He closed his eyes. ?He had her smile.?
The lights stopped flashing.
?We?ll remember their names for you, if it ever comes to that,? I said, ?but it won?t be today. You?re clean, Rick.?
?Clean?? He opened his eyes, looking at the test kit like it was some alien thing he?d never seen before. Then, slowly, he removed his finger from the needle and pressed the transmission button. ?Clean.?
?Which is a damn good thing because there was no way I was taking care of your mangy cat,? said Shaun.
?He?s right,? I said, moving to offer a hand to Rick, to help him off the ground. ?Shaun would have tossed her out the window at the first truck stop we passed.?
?Now, George, don?t be silly,? chided Shaun. ?I would?ve waited for one that had a ?Beware of Dog? sign. It wouldn?t do for Lois to not have any friends.?
Rick and I exchanged a startled look before we burst out laughing. I started to cry at the same time, and pulled Rick to his feet before slinging my arms around his shoulders and using him to steady myself. Shaun walked over and put his arms around the both of us, joining our laughter and smashing his face into my hair to hide his own tears. I knew they were there; Rick didn?t need to. Some secrets don?t need to be shared.