I felt foolish about caring, and then feeling foolish made me feel angry again. That anger shone too brightly for me to think of very much else.
“With Brandon, it feels real. As close as I think it’s ever felt for me.” Gina walked away from Winter to put the flashlight down and scan the IV pumps. “But if I date him—if it goes farther than that—the Consortium will step in.”
I hadn’t realized our extracurricular activities were that closely monitored. By the Shadows, maybe. But the Consortium too? No. “Where were they when I was dating a zombie?”
She made a face. “I mean it a little different from dating—”
An intercom I didn’t know we had in the room turned on, and I heard Meaty’s voice over it. “Ladies, incoming.”
Gina’s tone went from familiar to professional in an instant. “I knew it.” She reached back and snatched the gun from me. “Go outside.”
“What? Protocol—”
Gina started sweeping me out with the butt of the rifle. “Go, fast, now.”
Frowning and not entirely sure I should listen to her, I stepped out of Winter’s room, gown and all. “Gina—” I protested again.
She shut the door, closing herself inside.
CHAPTER TEN
“Gina?” I beat on the door with one fist. The monitor set beside the door flickered off. “Are you kidding me?”
There were footsteps coming down the short hall. I pulled my mask up and hitched up my suit to sit down in the chair like I was in charge of whatever situation was going on inside the room in front of me. Just me, nursing no one in particular, in complete isolation gear, just sitting in the hall. Fuck this. I frowned at the open charts.
Someone addressed the back of my head. “Where is he?” I turned on my chair and saw a squat bald man wearing a bowling shirt underneath a black woolen peacoat. “Where? I know he’s here—”
And this was why Gina’d shoved me outside. My innocence would make me a better liar. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, sir.” I quickly folded paperwork and closed charts, so that no identifying information was showing.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.” He reached into his coat, pulled out a phone, and typed a quick text with stubby fingers. “He’s here, and you’re keeping us from him.” When he was done texting, he looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “The longer you lie, the more there’ll be hell to pay.”
Awesome. Just awesome. I inhaled and exhaled, taking the part of myself that might have felt outrage and stuffing it into a separate mental box. He was entitled to his anger, just like we had every right to be cautious. “I’m sorry, sir. You’ll need to come back tomorrow, when the social worker’s here—”
“I cannot believe you’re keeping us from him.” He came nearer, looming. I pushed my chair back. Being right wasn’t always a guarantee that you wouldn’t get hit. Behind him, a man and a woman, clinging to each other, rounded the bend.
“Jorgen. Stop that at once,” the woman commanded, and he stepped back. I reached forward, grabbed everything off the desk, and set it into my lap. Then I pushed back again, out of swinging range.
The woman was older, blond going gray, wearing a navy pantsuit. Her arms were wrapped around the younger man, like he was supporting her. She looked around and moaned.
“Oh, he’s here, Jorgen—just as I was afraid of.” She reached out to the bald man, and he held an arm out toward her. Like a swinging monkey changing vines, she switched the men she leaned on, coming closer to me. “How is he? Is he okay? What do we know?”
“Nothing,” Jorgen spat at me. “She won’t even admit his presence. Despite the fact that I can smell him here.”
The younger man took a step forward. He was my age, wearing casual clothing: jeans, an army-green hoodie.
“What can you tell us?” he asked.
“Nothing.” There wasn’t much protecting me just now. Meaty was around the corner, Gina was still inside, and the Shadows weren’t known for being timely unless it suited them. I held all of Winter’s charting to my chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t say a word.”
As if she had no spine, the woman slid down from Jorgen to bring her eyes level with mine. “You have to save him. You have to do everything you can.” Her eyes were icy blue, rimmed with the red of tears, and she put her hand on my gowned knee. Her fingers knotted with restrained strength. “Everything. Just give him till the moon,” she pleaded.
The young man put his hand on her shoulder, until she stood up. “Jorgen, Helen—let’s go.”