“Yes.”
Mick’s mouth opened, he was preparing to argue, to ask, even beg, but he didn’t have to. “Yes? Just like that, yes?”
“Yes,” Dylan repeated.
“Aren’t we becoming the couple now?” Mick stood up. “I’ll see you in a bit.” Smiling, he walked off. He reached the end of the park thinking about the progress he and Dylan were making, turned around to wave again, and when he did, he froze. There approaching Dylan was Sam. It didn’t take Sam long to sit right down. Tucking away the progress thought before he jinxed it, Mick stuck his hand in his pocket, turned back around and kept on walking.
Before she took the long drink of cold beer, Dylan giggled and rubbed her eye as she sat on her front porch trying to catch a bit of relief from the heat. “God. How can I forget her?” Dylan said and flipped another page of the yearbook she shared while sitting with Sam.
“Ever see her?” Sam asked then took a drink of his beer.
“I did once. At a mall in Akron.” Dylan shrugged. “Has like three kids. Big as a house. Not happy.” She shrugged and flipped another page. “I can’t believe Tigger pulled these out.”
“Said he wants to show his new teacher.” Sam finished his beer. “What’s up with that, Dylan? Why regular school?”
Dylan shrugged. . “Don’t know. I want to give it a try. Why? You against it?”
“Nope. Tigger likes the kids he played with. It’s worth a shot.” Sam lifted the empty bottle. “I’m getting another.” He stood up and swayed. “Maybe not.” He sat back down.
“Drink too much?” Dylan turned a page. “I told you. You have no tolerance.”
“You’re right.”
“How are you gonna drive?” she asked.
“I’m kind of hoping…” he leaned his shoulder into her, “I don’t have to.”
Dylan lifted her eyes from the page of the yearbook and turned. Sam’s face was right there.
“Can I stay?” Sam asked. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I really had way too much. I mean I can wait until I sober up, if you…”
“No. You can stay.” Dylan returned to the yearbook.
“Well, in that case. Maybe I will have another beer. It is pretty…” Sam stopped when Dylan shrieked with laughter. “What?”
“My God.” She laughed and indicated to a picture. “Look at Mick.”
A snorted laugh escaped Sam. “I forgot how big he was. Looking back at that now, no wonder everyone called him Orca.”
“And short. Look how short Mick was.” Dylan smiled. “Who would have thought?”
“Was that the reason you never dated him back then?”
“What? His weight problem in high school?” Dylan shook her head. “No. Mick’s weight had nothing to do with it. I would have been all too happy to date Mick if, well, you know, if it wasn’t for you.”
Sam smiled. “Is it true?”
“What I’m saying?”
“No.” Sam shook his head. “Is it true about you and Mick now?”
Dylan remained silent.
“I know you two have that history, but Old Jim was saying that it’s pretty serious between you and Mick. Is it?”
Dylan’s mouth opened, but it was the nearby sound of Mick’s voice that replied.
“I’d like to hear the answer to that one too,” Mick said.
“Mick.” Dylan peered up into the darkness. “We were looking at the yearbook.” Her smile faltered when she saw the seriousness in Mick’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
After shifting his eyes to Sam, Mick looked again at Dylan. “Sorry I took so long. Something else happened out there.”
“That’s all right,” Dylan said.
“But… I’m here now.” Mick glanced pointedly at Sam and spoke politely. “If you were holding down the fort, Sam, things are fine. You can go.”
“Mick!” Dylan gasped in shock. “Can you be any ruder?”
“Yes,” Mick answered. “Sam?”
“I’m not.” Sam stood up and grabbed his empty beer bottle. “I’m staying tonight. Beer?” He showed the bottle to Mick then walked into the house.
After watching Sam walk into the house, Dylan turned back to Mick who was walking away. “Mick.” She hurried from the porch to catch him.
“Goodnight, Dylan.”
Dylan grabbed for his arm. “Stop. He’s not staying because of anything romantic. He’s had too much to drink.”
“Let him stay somewhere else.” Mick stated. “I don’t want him here all night with you.”
“You have no right to tell me that.”
A glare. A simple glare said it all and Mick pulled his arm away from Dylan. “You’re right. You are absolutely correct. I don’t have that right; I never had that right. Nor will I. I’m finished here, Dylan. I’m not gonna play this stupid tug-of-war emotional game with you. I’m not. I thought we had a chance, a real chance this time. I was wrong.” Mick started to leave again.
“Mick… don’t do this. Come on.” Dylan followed him.
“Are you done with Sam?” Mick asked.
“Yes. Yes, I am.” Dylan nodded emphatically.
Mick slowly and heavily raised his arm and pointed at the house. . “Then you go back in there, tell him ‘sorry’, stay the night at your Dad’s, his cousin Tony’s, anywhere but here. Hell, I’ll even fork over a hotel room for him, but you go and tell him he has to leave right now.”
Dylan took in the deeply serious look on Mick’s face. “Mick… I… I can’t do that.”
“Then I… I can’t do this, Dylan. I can’t. I’m sorry.” After one more look at Dylan, Mick turned and walked away. He hoped, he really hoped as he made it from her house out to the sidewalk, that at any second Dylan would call out to him. Chase him. She didn’t. The only thing Mick received as an answer to where her priorities lay was when he heard the slam of Dylan’s door, looked back, and she was gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Winston Research Station
16 Miles South Deadhorse, Alaska
August 26th
A pupil that didn’t respond, an iris no longer blue but gray, lifeless and dull. The light shining into the woman’s wide open eye told more than her dead, discolored face. With a heavy sigh of desperation and sadness, Paul Lafayette, in protective garb, moved the flashlight around the dark room in the research station.
Paul knew that he needn’t search for an answer as to what had happened to the sixteen people sprawled about the room. Remnants of their attempts at nourishment encircled their corpses. Particles of food were spread unfinished on paper plates about the room.
The only answers Paul needed were specifics. He hoped that the scientists had attempted to record what was happening to them, at least early on, and that one of them had documentation somewhere. He knew that, sick or not, he would have tried to leave a report.
But the emergency team that Paul arrived with was a skeleton crew. There were only four of them to sift through every detail in the station, seal it off, and collect samples. It would take days, maybe even weeks if the four of them were left to do it alone.
Paul was grateful that wasn’t the case. A second crew arrived within five hours of Paul’s dawn call, and things were quickly underway.
Having seen enough, Paul gave a nod to the photographer in the recreation room and walked out. He paused to watch another worker prepare to seal the room, while yet another worker collected air samples.
He picked up the small silver box on the floor, a box filled with tissue samples he himself took when they first arrived at the isolated location, and then Paul left the building.