Page 100 of Airborne
“So do many of the invisible particles we test at the lab.”
“This isn’t the same.”
“Can still kill. Nope, Doc C. I’m all in. You can’t do this alone.”
“I’ll chance it, Andy. You’re an intelligent, great guy, and I want my assistant to stay in one piece. G’night.” He ended the call.
A text sounded from Andy.Picking up Leigh tomorrow night after her work. I have Javier Rivera’s card.
I wish you’d back off.
Ain’t happening.
Be careful. What time are you to meet her?
9:30.
Call when you’re on your way home.Chad continued to stress. No way around it. His career, his wife and child, and those whose friendship mattered were swinging from a thin rope over shark-infested waters.
Andy was right. Chad analyzed every cell of life, and the God thing played into it. Chad had learned 95 to 99percent of a person’s belief system was prompted by the subconscious. If he were to find out if God was real, then he had to ignore the inner doubts. Trust in faith. Believe in an invisible deity. The concept slammed against his scientific, prove-me mode of operation. But helplessness snapped at him.
From what Chad had read in the Bible, God was perfect, but an infallible character also meant every word of the Bible was accurate. Back to his foundation for not giving in to an all-knowing God—the Bible’s message was written by real men who made mistakes, were selfish, greedy, and exhibited every flaw imaginable. Chad admitted his skepticism. He needed concrete data, but right now, he longed for someone or something to rectify the virus situation.
Was the threat against Andy worthless dribble and nothing more? Were the Alvinsons in danger? Jordan? The other nagging reality was the FBI, CDC, and law enforcement agencies didn’t share their progress with him. Their reasoning made sense, but the secrecy didn’t mend his safety net.
Chad rested his face in his hands. Andy was clueless about investigative work. For that matter, Chad knew little. He didn’t own a gun or have self-defense skills. But he could follow Andy tomorrow night and keep an eye out for one of Powell’s hired thugs.
He reached for his legal pad and pen. If he accomplished anything tonight, he’d work on an idea brewing about the virus.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
HEATHER HAD SLEPT FITFULLY.Her conversation with Chad, the virus, the baby, all rolled through her mind. The roast beef dinner wasn’t to her liking, and now her stomach growled. Stupid hormones.
The cafeteria had fruit in the fridge, but Heather had her sights on ice cream, a chocolate, peanut butter ice cream sandwich. With extra peanut butter. She knew the spot where the little packages of the creamy delicacy were stored. The more the tan, gooey treat assaulted her, the more her mouth watered. She tossed back the blanket, slid into flip-flops, and grabbed her robe. Had she lost her mind? People were dying. A virus had the potential to kill people around the world. And she was hungry?
Embarrassing.
Shameful.
And true.
In the cafeteria Heather greeted Doris, the unofficial dorm mom, and the man called Tex who cooked breakfast and sometimeslunch. Both drank coffee in the stillness of the early morning. Heather headed straight for the freezer area. The kids might have depleted the supply of ice cream treats. She searched and wrapped her cold fingers around what she wanted.
“Want to sit with us?” Doris said.
“Love to.” Heather grabbed a paper plate, knife, and an individual packet of peanut butter before swinging a leg over the bench beside Doris.
“Do I see cravings?” Doris said.
“Pitiful, I know. Never have I done this.” She peeled back the ice cream and smothered it in peanut butter. Taking a bite, Heather allowed the treat to bathe her mouth in creamy goodness.
“If you want an omelet, I can whip it up.”
With her mouth full, she shook her head at Tex.
Thomas entered the area. “Looks like a party on Adam’s Island.”
Tex gestured to the bench. “Join us.”
