Patient Z by Becky Black Page B

end, Cal solved the dilemma. He saw Mitch, rose, and came over to him, bringing a basket of bread with him.
    “Get something to eat,” Cal said. Mitch took a piece. He nodded toward Bren, and they both went over to her.
    “Well?” she asked, not looking around.
    “It’s bad,” Mitch said. “The schoolroom is burned out. Couple of rec rooms, offices. But the worst part is the infirmary. It took a direct hit. It’s totally destroyed.”
    “Fuck.” Bren looked down.
    “The staff?” Cal asked, looking worried. Maybe he’d assumed they were in there waiting for casualties from the battle. He’d assumed wrong. The doctor was too valuable to risk.
    “They were in the shelter,” Mitch said. “It’s deep in the superstructure, all metal construction. Safest place on the rig. All the non-coms go there in the event of an attack.”
    “Yeah,” Cal said. “Attack. I don’t mean to sound rude here, but what the fuck just happened? Who the hell was that?”
    “I told you we had enemies other than zombies, people who’d try to attack the rig. It was—”
    “It was Ethan,” Bren said. She turned to face them. Tears, perhaps caused by the wind, perhaps not, had made trails through the dirt on her smoke-blackened face.
    “You can’t know that,” Mitch said.
    “I heard him. I’m sure of it.”
    “Who the hell is Ethan?” Cal asked.
    “A guy who used to be here,” Mitch said. “He…left.” He glanced at Bren. The rest of it was her story to tell and none of Cal’s business. “And if I’d caught him before he left, I’d have cut his balls off and thrown him to the sharks to finish.”
    “Looks like he’s got himself some new friends,” Cal said.
    “Doesn’t have as many this morning,” Bren said.
    Mitch shivered in the cold morning air. There were bodies floating in the water below them. He’d had to become used to killing in the past two years, but mostly zombies. For all his big talk to Cal, he hadn’t in fact executed any of the men they’d expelled from the rig, though one or two had left with a good-bye kicking from him. Shooting live, warm people, even if they were threats, was not something he’d ever get used to. He’d never shot anyone dead while he was a cop.
    Well, you’re not a cop anymore , he reminded himself, looking at Bren and Cal and the rest of his troops. You’re a soldier.
    “Mitch, Bren.” It was Ella. She nodded a greeting at Cal but spoke to Mitch and Bren. “There’s an emergency council meeting in two hours. To hear damage reports and make plans.”
    “Right,” Mitch said. “Two hours.”
    Ella left. Bren looked at Mitch and then past him, at Cal. She gave him a tired smile. “You did okay, by the way. We’ll make a soldier of you yet.” With that, she moved away, toward the women sitting on the deck. “Okay, girls, let’s go find some coffee and real food. Up we get.” She hauled up anyone too slow to rise and chivied them inside, toward the accommodation. Inez followed close on her heels. Bren’s shadow. As the noise of their boots on the deck died away, Mitch turned to Cal.
    “She’s right. You did do well. I saw you in action.” The words made his mind flash back to the other kind of action they’d been indulging in the night before, and he felt sick thinking he might have chickened out of doing that. One or the other of them could have been killed in the assault, and he’d never have known…
    “Thanks.” Cal stepped forward suddenly, pulled Mitch close, and kissed him. Startled, Mitch went with it, tasting smoke on Cal’s lips, tasting and smelling sweat. Cal cupped Mitch’s face. His hands stank of gun oil and cordite. They were both unshaven and filthy. It didn’t matter. They were alive.
    When they broke, they were alone on the deck, and the sun was breaking through the gray clouds, shining into Cal’s eyes. It turned them into the most beautiful green Mitch had ever seen.

Chapter Eleven
    The council met in one of the undamaged