Cruel World(143)

“Like I said before, nowhere’s safe. The best thing we can do now is stick together.”

Quinn glared at her, fiddling with a loose string hanging from the steering wheel cover. “I never thought I’d hear you say that,” he said finally.

She shook her head and sighed, but smiled. “Me neither.”

Quinn looked out over the gray water lapping at the boats. He closed his eyes.

“Okay.”

~

They spent a half hour searching the marina for a boat that had adequate fuel and room for the three of them and the dog. They located a sleek, twenty-foot yacht at the farthest end of the marina that fit their needs. In the bottom living area below deck, he found the dried remains of a man in a bed, only his underwear and some fillings were left within the sheets. The keys to the boat were in a pair of pants lying on the floor, and he found a nine-millimeter pistol in the bedside drawer, its magazine a little over half full. After disposing of the remains, they brought their bag of food and blankets on board, and Quinn test-started the engine, its chugging rumble answering as soon as he turned the key.

“Why are we taking a boat from here?” Alice asked when they were finished and returning to the truck.

“I have a hunch that they don’t care much for water. We haven’t seen any swimming or crossing lakes anywhere. I think it might be safer traveling the river for a while.” His voice must have betrayed something because she watched him for a long time before looking away.

Genset headquarters was located in a business complex outside the city of Hastings, only a fifteen-minute drive from the marina. They consulted the smart phone’s map judging the best route to take before pulling away from the docks.

The streets they traveled on were empty. Water streamed along the gutters and dropped into grates, houses reflected their passing in dark windows, everything quiet. No one spoke and even Denver seemed to be waiting.

They turned into the business complex and spotted the Genset building at once. It was a high, two-story structure, its front plated with reflective glass that mirrored the ashen sky. They drove across the asphalt parking lot and stopped before the entrance. The genetic lab was surrounded by stretches of cleared land, several business buildings in the distance rising up from the ground like the heads of buried giants. Quinn surveyed the area and drove in a circle in the parking lot before stopping again before the door.

“Looks clear,” Alice said.

“That’s what worries me.”

“We definitely left that large herd behind. Even going full speed, it would take them another four hours or so to get here.”

“I know. But if this is ground zero, where are all the people that turned?”

“Maybe they migrated like the others we saw,” Alice offered, turning in her seat.

“Maybe.”

The rain had let up for a time when they were locating a boat, but now it fell again in steady layers. They waited for another five minutes without talking before Quinn opened his door.

“Maybe you guys should stay here, just in case,” he tried again.

“Maybe you should give up a lost cause when you see one,” Alice said, climbing out of the car.

The rain was even colder than before, and they rushed through it to the solid awning over the entrance. Several lights glowed within the building, and a card reader mounted to the side of the door blinked a red LED. Quinn dug in his pocket and brought out Harold Roman’s ID and slid it through the reader slot.

The door clicked open.

They stepped inside.

Quinn drew the pistol he’d taken from the boat and glanced around. They were in a high-ceilinged lobby. A dark waiting area sat to the right, magazines spread across a low table, padded chairs against the wall. To the left was an unmarked steel door painted the same color as the wall. Ahead was a long reception desk, business card holders, pamphlets, and pens adorning its top. Before the desk was a towering glass sculpture of a DNA strand, its round base filled with water. As Quinn stepped closer, he saw that it was a fountain, the double helixes drilled with holes for water to drip through.

Their footsteps echoed on the marble flooring as they approached the desk. To either side there were double doors leading farther into the building. The rectangular windows set within the doors were dark.

“One or two?” Alice asked.

Quinn moved past the desk and peered through the left door’s window. A hallway lay beyond, doors closed on both walls. But there was something on the floor and ceiling, something uneven and stretching the length of the hall where it disappeared into darkness. Quinn squinted, trying to discern what it was. He tried the door, but it was locked. When he looked for a card reader, he found none. There was only a standard lock set in the door’s handle.