boy,” he said, going back to reassure the dog. “You don’t know what’s going on, you’re in a strange place, and the one person you do know keeps disappearing on you. You’re doing great. It’ll be someone else’s shift soon, and then I can sit here and keep you company, okay?”
“I’ll watch him if it will help.”
Derek looked up to see the woman Lyrica had identified as Melanie. “I don’t know how he feels about strangers,” Derek began, only to realize how inane a statement that was when he had been a stranger to the dog only that morning. “But if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d worry less knowing he wasn’t left alone again.”
“Again?” Melanie asked.
Derek explained quickly how he’d found Fido that morning.
“That’s horrible!”
Derek decided he liked her. “Stay with Melanie, Fido, okay? I’ll be back soon.” Fido wagged his tail and moved to Melanie’s side. “Good boy,” Derek praised before joining Lyrica and Sambit in the hallway. “Let’s get this done. It’s getting late. We don’t have a lot of daylight left.”
They sorted through the hazmat suits in storage until they found ones that would fit well enough to protect them. Lyrica helped them get the suits on and fitted correctly and showed them how to switch on the two-way radios that would let them communicate while they were outside.
“I may as well be wearing a spacesuit,” Derek said as they clunked toward the door, the steel-toed boots feeling awkwardly heavy compared to the weight of the light boots he’d had on earlier.
“Pretty much,” Lyrica agreed through the radio. “These suits are designed for situations where everything out there is presumed to be bad. The only thing it doesn’t have is temperature control.”
“So what are we looking for?” Sambit asked as they tramped across the flooded yard toward the side of the control building.
“Anything that isn’t as it should be,” Lyrica said.
“That might help Sam, but it doesn’t help me much,” Derek said, turning his head left and right as much as the hazmat suit would allow to try to get a feel for the area.
“So think of it as a chance to get the lay of the land for later, when you have to do this with Number Five,” Sambit suggested, “and some things will be obvious even to a layman’s eyes.”
Derek rounded a corner and caught sight of a body on the ground, the legs caught beneath fallen concrete. “Like that?” he said with a grimace.
“Oh, God,” Lyrica said, the words as much a prayer as a curse. She hurried to the body. Derek and Sambit followed, lifting the concrete slab and pulling the body free.
“I almost don’t want to turn him over,” Lyrica said. “It’s almost certainly someone I know, and I’m not sure I want to know who.”
“If you would rather go inside, Derek and I can take care of him,” Sambit offered, his voice so rich with compassion that Derek found himself nodding his agreement even though he had no interest in dealing with a dead body.
“No,” Lyrica said, “I’m the manager. I need to deal with this.”
“You don’t have to,” Derek said, echoing Sambit’s offer.
“I appreciate the thoughtfulness,” Lyrica said, “but I’ll have to deal with it eventually. I’ll have to fill out the paperwork if nothing else. It was a job site accident that killed him.”
“It was a hurricane that killed him,” Derek said, bending as best he could and helping Sambit roll the body over so Lyrica could see the man’s face. Derek was glad of the heavy suit that blocked what had to be an awful smell emanating from the bloated form. He could see early signs of decay already, suggesting the man, whoever he was, had been here a couple of days at least. Derek was no expert, but he’d watched enough forensics shows to know that decomposition didn’t start instantly. “Do you know him?” he asked when Lyrica didn’t say anything.
“Yes,” she replied. “That’s Ernesto Diaz,
“I’ll watch him if it will help.”
Derek looked up to see the woman Lyrica had identified as Melanie. “I don’t know how he feels about strangers,” Derek began, only to realize how inane a statement that was when he had been a stranger to the dog only that morning. “But if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d worry less knowing he wasn’t left alone again.”
“Again?” Melanie asked.
Derek explained quickly how he’d found Fido that morning.
“That’s horrible!”
Derek decided he liked her. “Stay with Melanie, Fido, okay? I’ll be back soon.” Fido wagged his tail and moved to Melanie’s side. “Good boy,” Derek praised before joining Lyrica and Sambit in the hallway. “Let’s get this done. It’s getting late. We don’t have a lot of daylight left.”
They sorted through the hazmat suits in storage until they found ones that would fit well enough to protect them. Lyrica helped them get the suits on and fitted correctly and showed them how to switch on the two-way radios that would let them communicate while they were outside.
“I may as well be wearing a spacesuit,” Derek said as they clunked toward the door, the steel-toed boots feeling awkwardly heavy compared to the weight of the light boots he’d had on earlier.
“Pretty much,” Lyrica agreed through the radio. “These suits are designed for situations where everything out there is presumed to be bad. The only thing it doesn’t have is temperature control.”
“So what are we looking for?” Sambit asked as they tramped across the flooded yard toward the side of the control building.
“Anything that isn’t as it should be,” Lyrica said.
“That might help Sam, but it doesn’t help me much,” Derek said, turning his head left and right as much as the hazmat suit would allow to try to get a feel for the area.
“So think of it as a chance to get the lay of the land for later, when you have to do this with Number Five,” Sambit suggested, “and some things will be obvious even to a layman’s eyes.”
Derek rounded a corner and caught sight of a body on the ground, the legs caught beneath fallen concrete. “Like that?” he said with a grimace.
“Oh, God,” Lyrica said, the words as much a prayer as a curse. She hurried to the body. Derek and Sambit followed, lifting the concrete slab and pulling the body free.
“I almost don’t want to turn him over,” Lyrica said. “It’s almost certainly someone I know, and I’m not sure I want to know who.”
“If you would rather go inside, Derek and I can take care of him,” Sambit offered, his voice so rich with compassion that Derek found himself nodding his agreement even though he had no interest in dealing with a dead body.
“No,” Lyrica said, “I’m the manager. I need to deal with this.”
“You don’t have to,” Derek said, echoing Sambit’s offer.
“I appreciate the thoughtfulness,” Lyrica said, “but I’ll have to deal with it eventually. I’ll have to fill out the paperwork if nothing else. It was a job site accident that killed him.”
“It was a hurricane that killed him,” Derek said, bending as best he could and helping Sambit roll the body over so Lyrica could see the man’s face. Derek was glad of the heavy suit that blocked what had to be an awful smell emanating from the bloated form. He could see early signs of decay already, suggesting the man, whoever he was, had been here a couple of days at least. Derek was no expert, but he’d watched enough forensics shows to know that decomposition didn’t start instantly. “Do you know him?” he asked when Lyrica didn’t say anything.
“Yes,” she replied. “That’s Ernesto Diaz,
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