The Dead War Series (Book 1): Good Intentions by D.N. Simmons Read Free Book Online Page B

the SciTech Lab bio-suit. He placed the call, telling the police everything the man told him to say. “I swear this isn’t a fucking hoax!” he added.
    “We know sir, we’ve already received several calls from SciTech Labs and we’re working now to resolve the situation. Thank you for your call,” the dispatch officer said. She made sure to get the man’s location and information before ending the call.
    “What did they say?” Vincent asked the man.
    “She said the police already know about it and they’re taking care of it.”
    Vincent shook his head. He had no idea what “it” was but he was putting what faith he had left into the Chicago police department.
    “May I borrow your cell?” Vincent asked hand extended.
    “Ah, look buddy, I don’t want to get involved,” the stranger said as he began retreating.
    Vincent watched as the man ran to get away from him. He couldn’t blame him, but he really needed a telephone right now. Shit! Where was a pay phone when you needed one? In this age of wireless devices, pay phones were all but extinct. He took a few glances behind him to see if any dead people were on the streets. So far, so good. Maybe the police were their best bet. Still, the Center for Disease Control needed to be notified just to be on the safe side. He ran down the street a few more blocks, still putting distance between himself and SciTech. People—curious and suspicious of him still fully dressed in his white, blood-splattered lab bio-suit—avoided making contact with him as he passed by. He could feel their eyes on him, but he made certain to keep moving forward. There was a part of him that wanted to yell “run for your lives” but that would either grant him even more arch-eyebrow expressions or start a mad panic, so he opted to remain silent as he searched for nearest telephone.
     
    ***
     
    “So, how about doing a little sight-seeing after the convention?” Dr. Felicia Anderson asked her two colleges Dr. William Bale, a tall, handsome African-American male, with short cropped hair and hazel eyes, and Dr. Samantha Grey, a cute blonde with shoulder length hair and blue eyes, as they waited in line at Starbucks.  
    “Hell, if we have any damn time left before we have to head back. This damn convention's going on for six more hours. I hate these fucking things sometimes,” William commented as he took another step forward getting closer to the counter.
    “I don't know, I kind of like them. I haven't gone to many, but I always find them informative and it's nice to meet up with a few familiar faces in the field,” Samantha said, giving her colleagues a different perspective.
    “Nerd,” Felicia teased with a coy smile.
    “Don't hate,” Samantha retorted. “Damn, how long does it take to pour coffee at a coffee shop? This line is taking forever. I was hoping I could get a Cappuccino before we have to get back.”
    “I think they have to wait for the guy to come back from Columbia with the beans,” William joked.
    “He must be traveling by mule,” Samantha added.
    “Shit, girl, I don't know.” Felicia chuckled at her two co-workers. “They need to open up another line. They know this is still the AM, people need their caffeine fix.” Felicia stepped out of the line slightly. Making sure the people behind the counter would be able to see her; she raised her voice, “Is there a manager back there that can assist with opening up another line?” She tried her best not to sound as pissed off as she felt.
    “You're bad,” Samantha whispered with a mischievous flare.
    “I'm tired of waiting in this damn line,” Felicia clarified.
    Apparently, the management took the hint and opened up another line, to which several people, including the three of them jumped into right away.
    “Squeaky wheel gets the oil.” Felicia smiled. Just then, her cell began ringing, blaring the rhythmic melody of Jasmine Sullivan's “I Bust the Windows out Your Car”. It let her know that her