“Time’s up,” said Charles.
Eva left her chair and the room holding Alex and walked beside the desk Charles was sitting at. “I need a shot?”
“That’s what they expect me to do, said you ate something outside of the perimeter. Sounds like BS to me.”
Eva sat in one of the two empty folding chairs opposite the desk. She removed her sweatshirt and rolled up the left sleeve of her shirt. “You don’t believe I can hunt and kill my own food? You barely know me to make an assumption like that.”
Charles left his seat and moved to a small tray where a syringe and a glass bottle of clear fluid had been prepared. He motioned for her to settle down. “Take it easy, princess. I meant, you seemed smarter than to go to that trouble when there’s food here. Just doesn’t make sense. Sounds like you said that just to get sent here, so you could try to talk to him,” he said, thumbing toward Alex.
“What do you care? You’re getting extra rations…”
Charles turned and looked at her. “I don’t care.” He drew closer and wiped a small area on her upper arm with an alcohol-soaked cotton swab. “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve though. This one’s rehab material; he doesn’t even know he’s in a cage.”
“I think he’s salvageable,” replied Eva. “What’s in the syringe?”
“Antibiotic.” He plunged the syringe into her upper arm and administered the medication, then placed a bandage over the insertion site. “Yeah, he’s salvageable. He’ll go straight to the farm to work the fields.”
“They tell you that?”
“No, but he’s going to be rehabbed. After rehab, they go to the farm.”
Eva rolled her sleeve back down and threw her sweatshirt on. “What exactly is rehab?”
Charles discarded the used syringe into a red plastic box marked “Hazard.” “No idea. Isaac handles that stuff.”
“They didn’t tell you how they rehab someone?”
Charles shrugged. “They get your mind right, somehow.”
Eva frowned.
“Look, I have no reason to lie to you. They just have me run this half-assed medical station. That’s it. They don’t tell me squat.”
Eva followed as Charles led her to the door and knocked, notifying Wes that she was finished. The door swung open, only it wasn’t Wes that answered.
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Crap.
“Charles, why aren’t you in a suit!” demanded Mitchell, in full bio gear and armed.
“Calm down. She’s not contagious,” he replied.
“Where’s Wes?” asked Eva.
“That right? You’re a doctor, now?” blurted the guard, ignoring Eva’s question. He grabbed her arm and yanked her outside. “By the way, don’t ever tell someone holding a firearm to calm down.”
“Is that right? You going to shoot me?” taunted Charles.
Mitchell let go of Eva and got in Charles’s face. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”
From the small of her back, tucked into her pants, Eva removed a bundle of three protein bars fastened together by a rubber band. She looked to see if anyone farther off was watching and when it was clear, tossed them toward the perimeter fence.
Still jawing, Mitchell finally warned, “Don’t temp me, medic.” He stepped over to Eva, bound her and led her away from the Med Hut.
“And don’t you start, bitch,” he said to Eva.
“The mouth on you,” quipped Eva.
“If it were up to me, I'd cast you out on your ass.”
Eva smiled. “News flash: nothing’s going to be left up to you.”
“No? Why’s that, smart-mouth?”
“Because you’re an ignoramus.”
Mitchell stopped abruptly and swung Eva around to face him. “There are two things I’d like to do to you. Should I tell you?”
Eva feigned deep concentration. “Hmm…I think I can guess.”
He retracted the domed visor back into the helmet, revealing his face. His puffy, chapped lips curled into a hideous smile, then he dragged his tongue across them.
Eva mimicked the routine, pouring on the sensuality, then batted her eyelashes. At first Mitchell appeared confused as to her intention, but then understanding washed over him and behind his dark eyes flared an inferno of hate. He seemed to lose control of himself and raised a fist over his head.
“Mitchell!”
Broken free of his momentary insanity, he dropped his arm and snapped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Wes.
“What’re you doing, man?”
Mitchell’s wild glare harbored something Eva recognized as incoherency. The meek twilight glow accentuated the bulging whites of his eyes, adding to the impression of derangement. In that moment, he seemed capable of anything. He blinked a few times, returning from the mental lapse and back to his normal, despicable self.
To Eva, Wes asked, “You okay?”
She nodded.
“Mitchell?” said Wes. “You alright, man?”
Mitchell’s eyes darted from Wes to Eva, then back to Wes. His eyebrows lowered into their usual unpleasant posture. “You take her back.” He slammed his visor shut and stormed off.
Wes took Eva to Walker House and saw her to the door. He knocked. “You dodged one there,” he said.
“Thanks,” Eva replied.
Wes nodded. “I know he can be a hot-head, but I’ve never seen him like that.”
“Maybe someone ought to speak to Grant about him,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“You kidding me? He finds out I said something, he’ll kill me.” Eva cocked her head and Wes took the hint. “Okay, maybe I’ll talk to him.”
Laird answered the door and Eva ducked inside.
*********
Charles watched the man in the cage, still conversing with some imaginary people. Occasionally he would glance around, but that was it. Food had been left in the enclosure, but he hadn’t stopped to eat.
Charles exited the Med Hut and locked the door. Before turning to walk back to Main House, he noticed something strange among the cluster of vegetation just outside the perimeter fence. A gnarled tree rose from the tangled brush. Its appearance was unique, yet he couldn’t remember having seen it before. He felt a desire to go examine it but thought better of it. There were plants that had evolved into things that weren’t quite plants anymore. Some of them had become sentient. What if this was one of them? Not so long ago, it would’ve seemed an outrageous notion. He stared at the suddenly sinister tree and retreated toward the safety of the silos.