"The renegades came too fast for a full evacuation of the hospital," Q said. "We bought enough time to evacuate thirty-five staff and seven patients. I left with a pair of ambulances carrying the neonatal staff and as much or their equipment as we could carry. On the way out, we ran into a roadblock."
"...While you were being pursued," Branson said.
Q nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, there were about a dozen bikers tailing us," he said. "The guys manning the roadblock turned 'em back, right enough. The other three vehicles from the hospital had already been stopped. Maybe we would have made it ourselves, maybe not."
"So," Branson said, "it appears I have something of a monopoly on qualified and properly equipped medical personnel. Of course, I could also find a use for this evidently talented man, but we have arranged his safe passage here as a show of good faith."
"What do you want?" Austin said, sounding wary and weary.
"I want to move my base camp," the chieftain said, "to somewhere closer to the inhabited casinos. To Sahara, say, or the front of Circus Circus. Or perhaps the casino where you are currently residing. I am willing to negotiate."
"At any of those places, you would have control of the Boulevard," Austin said.
"All the better to defend your casinos, from the zombies and Enid," Branson said mildly.
"Or attack us yourself," Austin replied. "Or just step aside and let the others do your dirty work."
"These days," Branson said with a predatory smile, "trust is hard to come by. If it helps, as long as I'm doing a service to the casinos, I can always ask for anything I need or want, can't I? So, resorting to force would be, if nothing else, rather... unnecessary, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Austin said. Then he mustered confidence: "But this isn't something I can approve- or refuse- on my own initiative. I will report your... request to my superiors, and they will decide what, if anything to do."
"Frankly, Texas, I doubt very much that anyone would stop you from doing whatever you wanted," Branson said. "I could take it as a sign of cowardice. But I'm willing to give you credit for knowing, the best way to show your strength is not to use it."
"That is a good philosophy," Austin said. "Of course, you do follow it..."
"As a rule," Branson said coolly.
"I wouldn't have guessed that, from the last time we met."
"Yes. I suppose I didn't give a good impression then. I hope we have started to turn over a new leaf. But, there is something else, which I'm afraid isn't going to help, and I must emphasize is not my idea... She is wanted at our camp. You know who I mean. It might be difficult to make any further arrangements if that request isn't granted."
"That will be her decision," Austin said.
"To be sure," said Branson. "So, I suppose, if you are not ready to make an agreement, and there is nothing else you would like to discuss, I should return to my men."
"I suppose. Take care."
"I will." Branson left without another word, pausing only a moment at Abbie's sudden entrance.
"Austin! Come quick!" she said. "I think it's time!"
Austin rushed after her. His most coherent response was a refrain that sounded increasingly like suspicion: "It's too soon! It's too soon! It's too soon!"
Enid surveyed a dozen prisoners from the hospital, within a newly erected enclosure. He had heard stories about how hordes of defeated Nazis had sought out any American soldier they could surrender to, simply to get away from the Soviets. He had been thinking of those stories often as his men rounded up staff from the hospital. Even before the hospital had been taken, they had been coming out of the woodwork, still in scrubs and uniforms, with ID badges ready for examination. Clearly, they were confident that their abilities would protect them from harm or abuse. Even now, the renegade was debating whether to validate their assumption.
"Now, I'm sure there's nothing any of you wants more than to help people," Enid said with a charmed tone. "You don't pick sides, and believe me, that's just fine with me. Hey, I'm a little like that myself. I don't ask about good or bad; I ask, what's in it for me? So, I don't care if you helped anybody I don't like. And if you helped any of your colleagues get away from me, I wouldn't hold even that against you.
"But then there's that explosion in the main building. I wasn't expecting that. Made me sad, really. Sad and puzzled. I wouldn't think any of you would have anything to do with something like that, and I just about took it as a given you didn't. Still, I had a guy look over it, just to be sure. He's one of the pros, and he's assured me, it was done by another pro. That gets you off. 'Cept, he told me something else. Apparently, the damage isn't really even that bad. Just enough in just the right places to keep anyone from using the place for a while. And to do that, even a real pro would need help from somebody who really knew the hospital. That means somebody on the hospital staff, and pretty high at that, and I think that's one of you."
He turned a long, hard stare down the line, looking for that certain look. He didn't see it yet but he was close... Then a particularly old man he had already discounted, evidently a senior administrator, stepped forward. "I did it," he said. "I don't want anybody else to pay for it."
"Very well," Enid said. "Come here, and we'll work something out." He stepped out of the gate, and the old man followed. Then the biker shut the gate.
"If you say you're responsible," Enid said, "I'm sure you can think of ways for it to be true whether you did it or not. Now watch how much good that does them." At his signal, his henchmen opened another gate in haste, one that went directly into the back of a truck. From within came a snarl, and then... laughter.
The screams lasted for an hour.