Clarence studied a map resting on his knees. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Margo, this suit is annoying,” he said. “I’m taking it off.” “Clarence, give it a rest,” Margaret said. “I don’t want to go over this again.” “But there’s no purpose for this thing,” Clarence said. “Dew has been around dozens of corpses — he hasn’t contracted anything.” “Yet.” Amos smiled. “You look like a black Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. It’s not a good look for you.” “And you look like a short KKK grand dragon who washed his whites with his darks,” Clarence said. He looked at Margaret again. “And what about Dawsey? You fixed him up, you didn’t start growing triangles. This suit is making me sweat, and sweaty is definitely not a good look for me.”
Amos laughed. “You serve up a softball about being all sweaty? I’m not even touching that one. Seriously, Otto, you have to make it a little harder to make fun of you two boinking whenever you think no one is looking.” “That suit will stop microbes,” Clarence said. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t offer much protection against a pistol- whipping.” Amos laughed again and held up his hands palms out: okay, okay, take it easy.
Clarence talked tough, intimidating gravel voice and all, but over the past three months he and Amos had become fast friends. Clarence Otto was just flat- out likable. Witty, helpful, respectful and with a major streak of deductive common sense, he often put a strategic perspective on Margaret and Amos’s scientific discoveries. As for Amos, his multidisciplinary expertise and sheer brilliance had helped the team stay one step ahead of the infection. More like a half step, maybe, but at least they were still ahead.
At some point in the past three months, both men had revealed a love for basketball. Otto, a former Division III point guard and a lifelong fan of the Boston Celtics, discovered that short, frail little Amos Braun had a wicked outside jumper. Well, calling it a “jumper” was a stretch — he came off the ground maybe three inches when he shot. Amos couldn’t play one-on-one to save his life. At a game of H-O- R-S- E, however, he could beat Otto six times out of ten. Amos was also a lifelong hoops fan, although he preferred the Detroit Pistons, giving the two men plenty to argue about in the many hours when there wasn’t a corpse on the autopsy table.
---
Otto sighed. “Yes sir.” “You made her this way,” Amos said. “I remember when Margaret was a total pushover. You’re the one that got her on the Gloria Steinem express, all women- libbed and everything.” “I know, I know,” Otto said. “I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Keep her barefoot and in the kitchen.”
“Amos, my diminutive white friend,” Otto said, “you’re just mad that a fine- looking black man is getting all the action.” “Fine- looking until you put on that suit and get all sweaty,” Amos said. “Then you look like a half- chewed Tootsie Roll.”
Otto smiled and nodded, which meant he had a killer comeback, but his cell phone chirped before he could speak. There was only one person who would be calling. Clarence answered. “Otto here.” He listened. His smile faded into an expression that was all business. He pinched the cell phone between his shoulder and ear, then looked at the map. “We’ll be there in three minutes.” He hung up. “What’s the matter?” Margaret asked. “Baum and Milner are down,” Otto said. “A kid named Tad found them, said Dawsey was going to his house.”
---
“Tiny white man makes a good point,” Clarence said. “Dew, can your guys get the eunuch out of here?”
“Forget it, Margo,” Clarence said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“No way,” Clarence said. “He’s probably drunk again. Dew, is he drunk?” “If not, he’s on his way.” “See?” Clarence said. “That’s it, Margo, you’re not going in there.”
“He just killed three people,” Clarence said. “Someone please tell me I’m not hearing this bleeding- heart- liberal bullshit.”
“This is bullshit,” Clarence said. “I’m going to the back to get body bags,” Margaret said. “Amos, you come help me. Clarence, if you’re so worried about my safety, get in there and tell Perry to stay put. Feel free to threaten him, because that’s what you men do and it seems to work so well. But put on your hood and gloves before you go in!”
Amos unsuccessfully tried to choke back laughter. “Something funny?” Clarence asked. “Put on your hood and gloves,” Amos said. “If you weren’t so pissed already, I’d probably make fun of you.” “Now is not the time, Amos.”
“In the bedroom I’m in charge,” Otto said sullenly. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the only place I’m in charge.” “You’re whipped.” “I don’t see you backing her down.”
“Fuck you, midget. And help me with these gloves.” Amos held the gloves so Otto could slide his hands inside. Amos made sure the connecting rings snapped home, then ran sticky tape around them. “Hey,” Amos said. “Twenty bucks says Dawsey kills you.” “You’re on.” “I’ll take it out of your locker if he does,” Amos said. “Wouldn’t look right me rifling through the pockets of a corpse.” “What ever. If you win, I guess I won’t really be worried about appearances.”
“I’m off to make twenty bucks,” Clarence said. “Been nice knowing ya,” Amos said. “See you on the other side.”
---
“Hey, Clarence,” he said. “You look like a fat ninja.” “Thanks,” Otto said. “That means so much coming from a source of wisdom like you.”
Otto slowly looked around the room, surveying the damage. “Were you drunk when you killed these people?”
“I guess so,” Otto said. “Listen, man, you know you scare the crap out of me, right?”
“Margaret is coming in here,” Otto said. “Sure she is,” Perry said. “Look at all the new toys she has to play with. See this one?” He nudged the dead little boy with his foot. “I call him Slinky.” “Save me your psycho jokes,” Otto said. “Just understand that when she’s in this room, you make any sudden moves and I’ll put you down.” “Oh, come on, Clarence! A gun? Don’t be that guy! How about you and I settle this the old- fashioned way?” “Forget it.” “What’s the matter, Clarence? Massa Dew say you can’t play with the white kids?” Behind the helmet visor, he saw Clarence’s eyes narrow. “Go ahead, boy,” Perry said. “Take a swing. I won’t tell on you.”
“I’ll pass,” Otto said. “You can save all that macho bullshit. Only one way you and I are going to dance, and that’s if a bullet takes the lead.” “Oh, that’s horrible,” Perry said. “Did you write that shit yourself?” Perry thought he saw Otto smile, just a little bit, but then the stone face slipped back into place.
---
“I’m online, Margaret,” Clarence said, his voice in her earpiece. “I have the other bodies in the second trailer. Amos is checking out the baby, but he looks fine. Did you run the test prototype yet?”
“Fantastic,” he said. “I’ll let Murray know immediately. He can rush the testers into production. Great job, Margaret. That finally gives us what we need.”
---
“Russkies?” Otto said. “Doesn’t that phrase show your age?”
Otto frowned, then smiled. “Say, little white man, don’t you owe me twenty bucks?”
Otto pocketed the twenty. “He bet that Dawsey would kill me last night.”
“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” Otto said. “Or something like that. I won twenty bucks — what else matters?”
“Huh,” Otto said. “I never thought of that.”
“Maybe a half stack of mini- pancakes, you mean,” Otto said.
“Oh, Amos,” Otto said, smiling as if he’d just had the most helpful idea in the history of man. “Are you upset because you can’t see over the table? Should I ask the waitress for a child’s seat?”
“I bet he will,” Otto said. “Dew here can be very persuasive.” “Twenty bucks says Dawsey doesn’t even leave the room,” Amos said. Otto nodded. “You’re on.” Margaret shook her head. “Is there anything you two won’t bet on?” “I’m sure there’s something,” Otto said. “Twenty bucks says there isn’t,” Amos said. Margaret shook her head some more. Otto smiled at Dew. “Well, go on and bring him here so I can win another twenty.”
“Doc,” Clarence said, “Dew says you need to go to the office.” “I’m a little busy,” she said. “Tell him if he wants to see me, he can come to the trailer. Then I’ll get rid of him, and you can give me a nice shoulder rub.” Clarence shook his head. “Uh, no can do, Doc. You need to get to the office, and bring a first- aid kit. Seems Dew and Perry had it out.” “Oh, no. Do we need an ambulance?” “You’re going to have to see this for yourself,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said as they reached the room. “I’ll be right here with you.” He opened the door for her.
“Like I told you,” Clarence said, “I’ll be right here.”
“Are you crazy? He’s down, he’s not dead.” “I know.” “He could snap at any second, Margo,” Clarence said. “I’m staying right here.”
“Honey, I know you want to protect me, but he’s not going to hurt me.” “He’s a killer, Margaret,” Clarence whispered back. “You’re going to have to trust my judgment,” she said. “I’ve taken care of him for five weeks, and I’m telling you he’s not going to hurt me.” “Fine, then I’ll stay to watch and see how wrong I am.”
“Well, that’s not exactly how I’d think of it,” he said. “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed if there was another guy watching me get stitched up. A nondoctor guy, of course. Doctors aren’t embarrassing in a situation like this.” “Guy logic?” “Guy logic,” he said. “Listen, can’t we at least get Amos to take care of him?” She smiled at him. “If you can talk Amos Braun into being in a room alone with Perry Dawsey, I’ll give you twenty bucks.” “I’m not taking that bet.” “Clarence, I’m a professional. I love the fact that you want to protect me, but this conversation is over, okay? Stand out here if you’re worried. If he tries anything, I’ll scream for help.” “That only works if you can make a noise before he breaks your neck.”
no subject
---
Clarence studied a map resting on his knees. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come on, Margo, this suit is annoying,” he said. “I’m taking it off.”
“Clarence, give it a rest,” Margaret said. “I don’t want to go over this again.”
“But there’s no purpose for this thing,” Clarence said. “Dew has been around dozens of corpses — he hasn’t contracted anything.”
“Yet.”
Amos smiled. “You look like a black Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. It’s not a good look for you.”
“And you look like a short KKK grand dragon who washed his whites with his darks,” Clarence said. He looked at Margaret again. “And what about Dawsey? You fixed him up, you didn’t start growing triangles. This suit is making me sweat, and sweaty is definitely not a good look for me.”
Amos laughed. “You serve up a softball about being all sweaty? I’m not even touching that one. Seriously, Otto, you have to make it a little harder to make fun of you two boinking whenever you think no one is looking.”
“That suit will stop microbes,” Clarence said. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t offer much protection against a pistol- whipping.”
Amos laughed again and held up his hands palms out: okay, okay, take it easy.
Clarence talked tough, intimidating gravel voice and all, but over the past three months he and Amos had become fast friends. Clarence Otto was just flat- out likable. Witty, helpful, respectful and with a major streak of deductive common sense, he often put a strategic perspective on Margaret and Amos’s scientific discoveries. As for Amos, his multidisciplinary expertise and sheer brilliance had helped the team stay one step ahead of the infection.
More like a half step, maybe, but at least they were still ahead.
At some point in the past three months, both men had revealed a love for basketball. Otto, a former Division III point guard and a lifelong fan of the Boston Celtics, discovered that short, frail little Amos Braun had a wicked outside jumper.
Well, calling it a “jumper” was a stretch — he came off the ground maybe three inches when he shot. Amos couldn’t play one-on-one to save his life. At a game of H-O- R-S- E, however, he could beat Otto six times out of ten. Amos was also a lifelong hoops fan, although he preferred the Detroit Pistons, giving the two men plenty to argue about in the many hours when there wasn’t a corpse on the autopsy table.
---
Otto sighed. “Yes sir.”
“You made her this way,” Amos said. “I remember when Margaret was a total pushover. You’re the one that got her on the Gloria Steinem express, all women- libbed and everything.”
“I know, I know,” Otto said. “I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Keep her barefoot and in the kitchen.”
“Amos, my diminutive white friend,” Otto said, “you’re just mad that a fine- looking black man is getting all the action.”
“Fine- looking until you put on that suit and get all sweaty,” Amos said. “Then you look like a half- chewed Tootsie Roll.”
Otto smiled and nodded, which meant he had a killer comeback, but his cell phone chirped before he could speak. There was only one person who would be calling. Clarence answered.
“Otto here.” He listened. His smile faded into an expression that was all business. He pinched the cell phone between his shoulder and ear, then looked at the map.
“We’ll be there in three minutes.” He hung up.
“What’s the matter?” Margaret asked.
“Baum and Milner are down,” Otto said. “A kid named Tad found them, said Dawsey was going to his house.”
---
“Tiny white man makes a good point,” Clarence said. “Dew, can your guys get the eunuch out of here?”
“Forget it, Margo,” Clarence said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“No way,” Clarence said. “He’s probably drunk again. Dew, is he drunk?”
“If not, he’s on his way.”
“See?” Clarence said. “That’s it, Margo, you’re not going in there.”
“He just killed three people,” Clarence said. “Someone please tell me I’m not hearing this bleeding- heart- liberal bullshit.”
“This is bullshit,” Clarence said.
“I’m going to the back to get body bags,” Margaret said. “Amos, you come help me. Clarence, if you’re so worried about my safety, get in there and tell Perry to stay put. Feel free to threaten him, because that’s what you men do and it seems to work so well. But put on your hood and gloves before you go in!”
Amos unsuccessfully tried to choke back laughter.
“Something funny?” Clarence asked.
“Put on your hood and gloves,” Amos said. “If you weren’t so pissed already, I’d probably make fun of you.”
“Now is not the time, Amos.”
“In the bedroom I’m in charge,” Otto said sullenly. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the only place I’m in charge.”
“You’re whipped.”
“I don’t see you backing her down.”
“Fuck you, midget. And help me with these gloves.”
Amos held the gloves so Otto could slide his hands inside. Amos made sure the connecting rings snapped home, then ran sticky tape around them.
“Hey,” Amos said. “Twenty bucks says Dawsey kills you.”
“You’re on.”
“I’ll take it out of your locker if he does,” Amos said. “Wouldn’t look right me rifling through the pockets of a corpse.”
“What ever. If you win, I guess I won’t really be worried about appearances.”
“I’m off to make twenty bucks,” Clarence said.
“Been nice knowing ya,” Amos said. “See you on the other side.”
---
“Hey, Clarence,” he said. “You look like a fat ninja.”
“Thanks,” Otto said. “That means so much coming from a source of wisdom like you.”
Otto slowly looked around the room, surveying the damage. “Were you drunk when you killed these people?”
“I guess so,” Otto said. “Listen, man, you know you scare the crap out of me, right?”
“Margaret is coming in here,” Otto said.
“Sure she is,” Perry said. “Look at all the new toys she has to play with. See this one?” He nudged the dead little boy with his foot. “I call him Slinky.”
“Save me your psycho jokes,” Otto said. “Just understand that when she’s in this room, you make any sudden moves and I’ll put you down.”
“Oh, come on, Clarence! A gun? Don’t be that guy! How about you and I settle this the old- fashioned way?”
“Forget it.”
“What’s the matter, Clarence? Massa Dew say you can’t play with the white kids?”
Behind the helmet visor, he saw Clarence’s eyes narrow.
“Go ahead, boy,” Perry said. “Take a swing. I won’t tell on you.”
“I’ll pass,” Otto said. “You can save all that macho bullshit. Only one way you and I are going to dance, and that’s if a bullet takes the lead.”
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Perry said. “Did you write that shit yourself?”
Perry thought he saw Otto smile, just a little bit, but then the stone face slipped back into place.
---
“I’m online, Margaret,” Clarence said, his voice in her earpiece. “I have the other bodies in the second trailer. Amos is checking out the baby, but he looks fine. Did you run the test prototype yet?”
“Fantastic,” he said. “I’ll let Murray know immediately. He can rush the testers into production. Great job, Margaret. That finally gives us what we need.”
---
“Russkies?” Otto said. “Doesn’t that phrase show your age?”
Otto frowned, then smiled. “Say, little white man, don’t you owe me twenty bucks?”
Otto pocketed the twenty. “He bet that Dawsey would kill me last night.”
“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” Otto said. “Or something like that. I won twenty bucks — what else matters?”
“Huh,” Otto said. “I never thought of that.”
“Maybe a half stack of mini- pancakes, you mean,” Otto said.
“Oh, Amos,” Otto said, smiling as if he’d just had the most helpful idea in the history of man. “Are you upset because you can’t see over the table? Should I ask the waitress for a child’s seat?”
“I bet he will,” Otto said. “Dew here can be very persuasive.”
“Twenty bucks says Dawsey doesn’t even leave the room,” Amos said.
Otto nodded. “You’re on.”
Margaret shook her head. “Is there anything you two won’t bet on?”
“I’m sure there’s something,” Otto said.
“Twenty bucks says there isn’t,” Amos said.
Margaret shook her head some more.
Otto smiled at Dew. “Well, go on and bring him here so I can win another twenty.”
“Doc,” Clarence said, “Dew says you need to go to the office.”
“I’m a little busy,” she said. “Tell him if he wants to see me, he can come to the trailer. Then I’ll get rid of him, and you can give me a nice shoulder rub.”
Clarence shook his head. “Uh, no can do, Doc. You need to get to the office, and bring a first- aid kit. Seems Dew and Perry had it out.”
“Oh, no. Do we need an ambulance?”
“You’re going to have to see this for yourself,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said as they reached the room. “I’ll be right here with you.” He opened the door for her.
“Like I told you,” Clarence said, “I’ll be right here.”
“Are you crazy? He’s down, he’s not dead.”
“I know.”
“He could snap at any second, Margo,” Clarence said. “I’m staying right here.”
“Honey, I know you want to protect me, but he’s not going to hurt me.”
“He’s a killer, Margaret,” Clarence whispered back.
“You’re going to have to trust my judgment,” she said. “I’ve taken care of him for five weeks, and I’m telling you he’s not going to hurt me.”
“Fine, then I’ll stay to watch and see how wrong I am.”
“Well, that’s not exactly how I’d think of it,” he said. “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed if there was another guy watching me get stitched up. A nondoctor guy, of course. Doctors aren’t embarrassing in a situation like this.”
“Guy logic?”
“Guy logic,” he said. “Listen, can’t we at least get Amos to take care of him?”
She smiled at him. “If you can talk Amos Braun into being in a room alone with Perry Dawsey, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”
“I’m not taking that bet.”
“Clarence, I’m a professional. I love the fact that you want to protect me, but this conversation is over, okay? Stand out here if you’re worried. If he tries anything, I’ll scream for help.”
“That only works if you can make a noise before he breaks your neck.”