Page 44 of Glass Rose
That’s what Ethan used to say. Did they survive? Dante? Walsh? Liv?
The island compound was our fallback plan if we had to disappear—remote, defensible, stocked with enough supplies to last months. They should be there.
“You military?” John asks, eyes on me.
“Private contractor.”
“Ah.” He nods like that explains everything. “Thought so. Way you move, way you watch everything. Got that look.”
“What look is that?” Sofia finally takes a small bite.
“Like he’s waiting for something to crash,” John says. “Like he’s seen enough shit to know exactly how bad things can get.”
“Seen my share,” I say. “Nothing like this though.”
The island is about thirty miles north of here. Close enough to reach, far enough to be isolated from the initial outbreak. If the team followed protocol, they’d be there now, waiting for a radio signal on our emergency frequency. I tried again before dinner, but no answer. I’ll try again tonight when everyone’s asleep.
“Sleeping arrangements.” John wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Marcus and I bunk in the office area. Got three campers for you four.”
Dr. Cho sets down her spoon. “I’d prefer my own accommodations, if possible.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” John nods. “Take your pick of the campers. They’re all about the same—bed, bathroom, little kitchenette.”
“I’ll take the one on the left,” she says promptly.
Alex grins, his eyes flicking between Sofia and me. “I’ll take the middle one. Guess that leaves you two lovebirds to share.”
Sofia’s pulse kicks up, and her cheeks flush pink, warming her way too pale olive skin. She doesn’t look at me. At least the sadness is gone for now.
“Problem?” I ask. We still have some unfinished business.
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s… fine.”
Sharing a camper opens so many possibilities.
“Excellent.” John claps his hands together. “Now, security. This place is locked down tight, but we still need a watch rotation. Four hours each, three people per night. That gives everyone a full night off every fourth day.”
“I’ll take first watch tonight.” Perfect opportunity to try the radio again.
“Man after my own heart,” John says. “Alright, Gavin first watch, then me, then Marcus. We’ll rotate the rest of you in tomorrow.”
Dr. Cho frowns. “What exactly are your security protocols? We need rules. For example, do we go outside alone? Only in pairs? Who is responsible for what?”
“Do you need to plan and organize everything?” Alex rolls his eyes. “We’re in the middle of the apocalypse, not setting up a business or whatever.”
“Interesting.” Dr. Cho’s expression doesn’t change, but her spine straightens another impossible inch. “I only hear you complaining, yet I don’t see you contributing anything useful.”
Alex grinds his teeth, that I-want-to-punch-him-in-the-face smile nowhere in sight.
“Structure keeps people alive,” Marcus says. “I’ve seen what happens when panic sets in, and nobody knows who’s in charge. Dr. Cho is right.”
“Sure, whatever.” Alex shrugs. “Let’s make a chore wheel while we’re at it. I call dibs on the fun jobs.”
Sofia observes this exchange like she’s tracking a tennis match, spoon suspended halfway to her mouth. Her eyes meet mine briefly, then dart away. Is she embarrassed or regretting our little exchange between the shelves?
John scrapes his bowl clean. “Rules are simple. Nobody goes outside alone. Nobody makes noise that could draw attention. Everybody contributes. Food prep, inventory, security. You don’t pull your weight, you don’t eat.”
Dr. Cho nods, satisfied. Alex doesn’t argue.
