CHAPTER 84

Shelly watched the pot of canned beef stew bubbling on the small range of the portable stove. She had given it a stir every now and again, but her mind was wandering, and she was staring blankly through the pot most of the time. Whips of steam caught her attention and she looked at the stew. There was a dry crust forming around the edges. The bubbles were bursting with a sticky mucky pop. It didn't look good. It didn't smell good, and she was pretty sure it was burning on the bottom. Turning off the flame she spooned the stew between two bowls. Shelly still didn't feel very much like eating but she knew it was just her nerves. There was no doubt she had been hungry earlier and should probably try and eat despite her stomach being crunched in a ball.

She looked at Dallas. He was still curled up in the far corner of the bunker and giving all indications that he didn't want to be disturbed. Despite his body language Shelly carried a bowl of stew to where he was and stood over him.

"Dallas."

He didn't look up.

"Dallas." She nudged him with her shoe.

Dallas balled up tighter and shifted away.

Shelly crouched down in front of him. "Dallas, you know you oughtta eat something. We were saying how starving we were just before we got in here." She pushed the bowl at his face. "Dallas."

Dallas slapped the bowl out of her hand and the stew went spattering across the floor.

"Damn it, Dallas!" Shelly kicked the bowl and stormed to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her.

Moments later Dallas could hear her sobbing. He started to feel guilty. It was the first emotion he felt since he'd witnessed his dad getting devoured by a swarm of compsognathus. Between then and the present he'd just been disconnected and empty, like someone had unplugged a part of his brain. Now it was back on and he was crying too. A flood of emotions overtook him and through them all he could still hear Shelly crying in the bathroom.

He got to his feet. His legs stammered through his own crying as he made his way to the bathroom. He fell against the door in a slump. His hand hung on the handle but Shelly had locked it.

"Shelly." He sniffed and wiped tears off his face. "Shelly, I'm sorry." He could still hear her crying. His knuckles rapped on the door weakly. A few moments later he heard the lock turn but Shelly had left the door for him to open.

He turned the handle and cracked the door. Shelly was sitting on the toilet lid with her face buried in her hands. She sniffled but didn't look up.

Dallas opened the door completely. He wasn't quite sure what to say. He was relieved when Shelly spoke first.

"There's another bowl of stew left." Her voice was muffled by her hands, and she sniffled again.

"Yeah. Why don't we do that." Dallas put a hand on her shoulder.

Shelly looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy. "I think it's probably gonna taste like crap."

They both let out a laugh.

"Come on then." Dallas pulled her to her feet. "This whole day has gone to crap anyway."

They made their way back into the main section of the bunker and sat down with the remaining bowl of stew. Neither of them could think of much to say. They just slurped spoonful after spoonful of the muddy looking beef stew until they were scraping the bowl clean.

Dallas wiped his lips. "Well, that tasted as bad as it looked."

Shelly agreed.

"You think we oughtta have saved some for him?" Dallas jabbed a thumb over at Robinson.

"I think he'll be able to take care of himself," Shelly said.

"Ummm…" Dallas was still looking at Robinson. His tone had abruptly shifted to one of urgency.

"What?"

Dallas got to his feet. At first he was moving with hesitance, like he still wasn't sure about what he was seeing. Then he leapt forward to reach Robinson. Shelly followed behind him. She still wasn't sure what was going on. When she came up beside Dallas the situation became clear, but there was still the question of why.

Robinson's face was swollen like a balloon. Red hives covered every inch of his skin. Dallas leaned close and listened to his breathing. It was raspy.

Shelly asked, "What's wrong with him?"

Dallas shifted away. "I think he's having an allergic reaction to the comp venom."

As they heard each breath become more laborious a flood of panic rushed over them both.

Shelly gulped, "he's gonna be alright though. Isn't he? It's like poison ivy right? It'll settle down?"

The look Dallas gave her was a very solid, "I don't think so."

Shelly gulped again, "what do we do?"

Dallas shook Robinson's shoulder. "Hey, Mr."

Robinson grunted and coughed, but he didn't appear to be conscious. Dallas doubted that he had heard him at all.

"We need to call somebody. Shelly, get the phone."

Shelly jumped to the phone at the wall. There was a short directory on an etched metal placard hanging just next to it. She ran her finger down the list and then dialed.

Shelly waited through one tone and then another before there was a click on the other end of the line followed by a voice.

Shelly said, "Mom?"