coffee. He sorted through them and pulled one down.
“We’re having communication problems at the moment. Our uplink to the communication satellite was at the assembly area in Central Park, and it seems to be offline. The helicopters had satellite radios built into them, but we obviously lost access to those as well.” He opened the coffeemaker and dropped in a K-cup of extra-bold coffee. After positioning a cup beneath the spout, he pressed the brew button.
“So you mean we’re stranded here?” Regina asked.
McDaniels watched the dark liquid fill the paper coffee cup. “Not at all. Once the men have this floor secured and we take an inventory of our consumables, I’ll go up to the roof with my satellite phone. I’ll be able to reach my component command and arrange for another extraction, probably by helicopter.”
“How long will that take?” Safire asked. “Shouldn’t you do that now?”
“I’ll attend to it as soon as we can fortify our position, Doctor. As far as how long it will take, I can’t tell you. I would imagine we lost a lot of aircraft back at the park. I don’t know what resources are still in the area, so it could be some time until we see any kind of rescue mission mounted. Which is why we have to fortify our position. Coffee?”
Safire rocketed to his feet, and his pale face flushed with sudden color. “No, I don’t want any fucking coffee! I want you and your people to do your job, which is to get us out of here! ”
“Dad! Take it easy,” Regina said softly.
McDaniels stirred a serving of light cream into his coffee. He brought the cup to his lips and tasted it, noticing for the first time his hand was trembling slightly. Was it from fear, or just the aftereffect of what seemed to be a gallon of adrenaline wearing off? He couldn’t tell which.
“Doctor Safire.” McDaniels kept his voice low and level, striving to at least sound calm and collected, though in truth giving the scientist a nice shiner sounded good at the moment. “You might have noticed that no fewer than fifteen men have died trying to get you and your daughter away from... those things out there. We’re now down to seven gunslingers against probably thousands of the walking dead. The precariousness of our situation is hardly lost upon me. I think maybe you can cut us a little slack?” He stared at Safire as he took another sip of his coffee. Right now, it tasted better than a cold beer on a hot day.
If Safire was moved by McDaniels’ comment, it did not show. “You need to get us out of here,” he said.
McDaniels sighed. “As I tried to tell you, that’s pretty much what I’m all about right now.” He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest as looked at Safire.
“Tell me who else knows what you do, doctor. Because if things go any further south, we’re going to need a contingency plan.”
“What do you mean by that?” Regina asked. She walked over to Safire and put a hand on his arm.
McDaniels ran a hand over the stubbly bristle on his head. Even though he wasn’t required to keep his hair as short as it was, he found a tight crew cut suited him just fine after fifteen years in the Army.
“He means that in case I get killed, someone else will need to know what I do,” Safire said in an acidic tone.
“I mean we might need to spread the wealth a bit,” McDaniels countered. “Who else knows what you do, Doctor? Who else knows how to stop the walking dead?”
“No one,” Safire said immediately.
“So you’re telling me that all of your research is — what? In your head?”
“I’m the only person who knows what RMA is, and what it does to a living human host.”
“RMA?” McDaniels asked.
Safire loosened up a bit, now that he had something else to occupy his thoughts other than fleeing from the walking dead. He straightened his navy blue dress jacket by pulling on its lapels.
“RMA. Rex Articulus Morte . Essentially, ‘the moving dead’, the
“We’re having communication problems at the moment. Our uplink to the communication satellite was at the assembly area in Central Park, and it seems to be offline. The helicopters had satellite radios built into them, but we obviously lost access to those as well.” He opened the coffeemaker and dropped in a K-cup of extra-bold coffee. After positioning a cup beneath the spout, he pressed the brew button.
“So you mean we’re stranded here?” Regina asked.
McDaniels watched the dark liquid fill the paper coffee cup. “Not at all. Once the men have this floor secured and we take an inventory of our consumables, I’ll go up to the roof with my satellite phone. I’ll be able to reach my component command and arrange for another extraction, probably by helicopter.”
“How long will that take?” Safire asked. “Shouldn’t you do that now?”
“I’ll attend to it as soon as we can fortify our position, Doctor. As far as how long it will take, I can’t tell you. I would imagine we lost a lot of aircraft back at the park. I don’t know what resources are still in the area, so it could be some time until we see any kind of rescue mission mounted. Which is why we have to fortify our position. Coffee?”
Safire rocketed to his feet, and his pale face flushed with sudden color. “No, I don’t want any fucking coffee! I want you and your people to do your job, which is to get us out of here! ”
“Dad! Take it easy,” Regina said softly.
McDaniels stirred a serving of light cream into his coffee. He brought the cup to his lips and tasted it, noticing for the first time his hand was trembling slightly. Was it from fear, or just the aftereffect of what seemed to be a gallon of adrenaline wearing off? He couldn’t tell which.
“Doctor Safire.” McDaniels kept his voice low and level, striving to at least sound calm and collected, though in truth giving the scientist a nice shiner sounded good at the moment. “You might have noticed that no fewer than fifteen men have died trying to get you and your daughter away from... those things out there. We’re now down to seven gunslingers against probably thousands of the walking dead. The precariousness of our situation is hardly lost upon me. I think maybe you can cut us a little slack?” He stared at Safire as he took another sip of his coffee. Right now, it tasted better than a cold beer on a hot day.
If Safire was moved by McDaniels’ comment, it did not show. “You need to get us out of here,” he said.
McDaniels sighed. “As I tried to tell you, that’s pretty much what I’m all about right now.” He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest as looked at Safire.
“Tell me who else knows what you do, doctor. Because if things go any further south, we’re going to need a contingency plan.”
“What do you mean by that?” Regina asked. She walked over to Safire and put a hand on his arm.
McDaniels ran a hand over the stubbly bristle on his head. Even though he wasn’t required to keep his hair as short as it was, he found a tight crew cut suited him just fine after fifteen years in the Army.
“He means that in case I get killed, someone else will need to know what I do,” Safire said in an acidic tone.
“I mean we might need to spread the wealth a bit,” McDaniels countered. “Who else knows what you do, Doctor? Who else knows how to stop the walking dead?”
“No one,” Safire said immediately.
“So you’re telling me that all of your research is — what? In your head?”
“I’m the only person who knows what RMA is, and what it does to a living human host.”
“RMA?” McDaniels asked.
Safire loosened up a bit, now that he had something else to occupy his thoughts other than fleeing from the walking dead. He straightened his navy blue dress jacket by pulling on its lapels.
“RMA. Rex Articulus Morte . Essentially, ‘the moving dead’, the
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