Del burst out laughing loudly. “Oh, I get it! ‘Top me off bitches, I’m back!’ I love that sketch,” she said, smiling around at everyone. The soldiers all seemed to be warring with themselves over keeping their eyes on their target and looking at the crazy lady. “Bill Brasky? Saturday Night Live?” she specified. “Anyone?”
No one, as it turned out. She shook her head, smiling inwardly. Everyone was at a standstill, staring at the woman laughing at inappropriate moments and they definitively were not shooting at each other. Worked like a charm. With so many male eyes on her she wished she’d had the forethought to undo a couple buttons on her jacket. She wasn’t afraid to use what she had.
Rob turned on her, his brown eyes wide. “Del, what are you talking about?” he hissed at her. “You do you realize what that thing is?”
“I’m a huge Robert Rodriguez fan,” she said.
Rob blinked at her, his jaw set, and she was satisfied to see the veins becoming slightly more pronounced in his forehead. She tried not to grin at him. “So now you believe in the zombies? Then you know that these people have just destroyed our quarantine!”
Secretly, Del shared that concern but she wasn’t about to let him know that. Deep down she really kind of liked the guy. Very deep down, in a damp hopeless subterranean dungeon haunted by the ghosts of her worst impressions of men, she liked the guy. He had principles she admired even if she didn’t agree with them. But she admired her own principles a hell of a lot more and she wasn’t going to let him blast a bunch of innocent people all to hell to preserve his quarantine. If the world had come to that, what were they trying to preserve anyway?
“It’s one zombie and she hasn’t bitten anyone yet. Take her into custody, I’m sure she’ll understand.” She gave the zombie a questioning look and the look she got in return was chilling, all teeth and wild eyes. Del took it as acquiescence and hoped she wasn’t wrong. The zombie was, or had been, a woman with curly brown hair. Her too-bright blue eyes by turns reflected a devastated humanity and a monstrous hunger, like a strobe light in a haunted house. She looked like she might have once had a medium build and a well-rounded face but she had a lean look about her now with hollowed cheeks and dark circles under her eyes. The greasy feeling in Del’s stomach was something like pity and disgust. “And you heard what the general said. He vouches for her.”
The tension was thick in the air. Despite the hushed conversation Rob’s order hung heavy around the tarmac and no one had lowered their guns. The other newcomers from Oregon were standing on the pavement, their hands in the air. There were about six of them and two dogs. Del’s inner five year old was begging to go pet the doggies but she held herself in check. Had to be a professional…
There were about seven survivors from Oregon, aside from General McNabb. Well, six: the zombie couldn’t really be called a survivor per se. The big man (Scottish maybe?) looked defiant and scared, the tall blonde looked spacey and scared, and the scarecrow was glaring daggers at the general for some reason, and also looked scared. There was just an overwhelming feeling of fright, which was understandable, all things considered.
All except the dogs of course. Dogs can always sense a dog person, and the Australian shepherd ran straight for her, wagging his tail. Without even thinking she squatted down and grabbed the dog’s head, rubbing his chin and ears. His lids drooped happily over mismatched eyes.
“Who’s a good little survivor? Huh? Who can survive the apocalypse? You can! Yes, you can!” she cooed at him. It wasn’t about making a distracting spectacle this time, but it served the same purpose ultimately. Everyone was staring. She snuck a peek at Rob between the dog’s ears.
He seemed torn and she let him think about it for a minute. For the time being anyway, this was her turf and if he forced her hand she’d throw her weight around. For diplomacy’s sake, though, she’d give Rob a chance and hope he’d come to her way of thinking without burning that bridge. She chuckled inwardly. They’d already burned one bridge.
He gave her a look she couldn’t quite read, and then said, “Stand down. But everyone goes into quarantine pending a full examination by CDC staff.”
“Sold, to the dickhead in the ARK,” she muttered softly, smiling to herself.