Chapter 9 #3
I first started toying with the idea of asking Larke out less than six months after the start of my assignment. I’d wanted it to be that when we went out, it wasn’t as friends or because we were interested in exploring all the treats D.C. had to offer.
I stared at her, laughed with her.
I lingered on her.
And I wasn’t interested in a world without her in it.
“I’m about to head out,” I said, switching gears. I wouldn’t tell him how I felt before I told Larke.
“Before I do, can I ask for a favor?” he asked.
“Does this person work in Sanitation?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Only women work in Sanitation. What’s her name?”
“You and Larke, I swear.” He sighed and shook his head. “Fine, it’s Leigh. Just let her know that I’m working on it. She’ll know what it means.”
“You disappointed her?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
“I could give you some tips. The clitoris is located—”
“Oh, gosh. Good night, Dez.”
He hurried from the apartment.
I gave it a moment before leaving myself, taking the stairs down to the first floor.
On the way, I passed a couple of Class Fours who greeted me with a ready salute, and I further leaned into the power the black uniform bestowed.
The only people allowed to question me were the generals.
Everyone else was designated to follow my orders, and I wondered what they would have done if someone like Giorgio Pozza had shown up at the camp.
“Die,” I said to myself. “They would have died.”
Instead of the main path, I rerouted to a service hallway that ran closer to the perimeter and was primarily designated for supply runners and repair crews. That path took me directly to the camp’s outskirts, away from the more densely populated zones.
Next, I cut through an underground utility tunnel, which wasn’t part of my original plan.
With how important it was to the operations at Totten, I’d assumed it would have been either heavily guarded or surveilled.
However, LaSalle let me know that it was officially decommissioned once a new infrastructure grid was constructed.
Then, with extra manpower being funneled toward the breach zone, it was even more desolate.
How he knew what he knew, I didn’t know, but had he been untrustworthy, I didn’t care about putting my life in his hands to save Larke’s.
I exited the tunnel and walked until the Sanitation building came into view, shadowed and looming and deceptively picturesque from the outside.
As Sanitation was both necessary and a hazard, the area was fenced off, and two guards were stationed out front overnight.
However, it wasn’t clear whether their presence was to prevent people from entering or leaving.
I walked up to the front door, prepared for them to ask me to state my business. Instead, they scanned my uniform, saluted, stepped aside, and tossed offers of help at my back as I entered. Usually, a Class One entering any building after-hours wasn’t a good sign.
Four steps took me down into the lobby.
A young woman with light brown hair manned a check-in desk in the middle. A row of empty metal chairs faced the desk, with a tower of buckets stacked beside the last chair in the row. Cleaning supplies covered every corner of the room, from mops and brooms to rags and handheld brushes.
Though packed, it was tidy and clean.
They didn’t use the harsh fluorescent lights that came with the building.
Instead, flickering candles lit up the lobby, along with lamps running on battery power.
The air smelled of disinfectant with a hint of wet fabric.
What might have been walls of peeling paint were covered by scavenged artwork and decor.
What the other buildings considered cast-offs, they’d turned into something that felt more homely than my place.
“Good evening,” I greeted.
“Good, eve—” She looked up. “Uh…evening. Good evening, sir. How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking for Larke Tapley, and I won’t be signing in. I also need you to keep any information about my visit tonight off the books. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” She pointed to a nearby hallway. “And Larke is in 104, Bed A, in room one.”
“Bed A in room one? How many beds are there per room?”
“Three rooms, four beds in each room.”
I chewed away my rage. “Okay. I’ll also need a copy of her schedule from this week.”
Another woman entered the lobby from the hallway.
Whereas the desk clerk screamed, “Fresh out of graduate school,” this woman carried more of a “mother hen” vibe.
Sprigs of gray curls peeked from the front of her hair scarf, and her nightgown brushed her ankles, the gown partially concealed by a lightweight gray robe.
“I can help with that, sir,” the woman said. “I’m Ana Cordero. I’m in charge of the girls here in Sanitation. I hear you are asking about my little songbird?”
I started to smile, but then I remembered my role. “Ana, I need a copy of Larke’s duties from this week, along with her routes.”
“Is something the matter?”
“I need those copies, and I need them tonight.”
“Leigh, please get him whatever information he needs,” Ana instructed the girl at the desk.
“Your name is Leigh?” I asked.
The younger woman nodded. “Yes, sir. I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I started to wave off the apology but reminded myself, one more time, of the role I was supposed to be playing. “LaSalle says he’s working on it,” I said. “He told me to pass along the message.”
“Oh! Oh, thank you. It’s about a critical cleaning issue. But let me get Larke’s information for you.”
She hurried off.
Ana gestured to a chair. “The copies will be a few minutes. It’s after curfew, as you know. For now, you should get off those feet a moment. I know you Class Ones work hard.”
She reminded me of Mae in a way. So, I took a seat, and she sat beside me.
“I know asking this might not be appropriate,” she began, her voice quiet, “but what did my mija do? Can her punishment wait? She’s very sick.”
I turned toward her, momentarily unable to keep up the pretense. “How sick is she? How bad is it?”
“She’s getting fevers again.”
“Is it the infection? That one that’s turning people into…those things?”
“No, I think it’s just all of this.” She motioned to the space around us. “It’s already hard work, and they work her so much harder. Her body, it’s failing. Something is wrong. We entered the raffle for extra fluids and medicine, but she needs something soon before it’s too late.”
I frowned. “A raffle?”
“Yes, for medicine.”
The pretense slipped completely. “Are you telling me that you have to enter a raffle to access potentially life-saving medication?”
“These are not things you know over in Woodhaven?”
“No. They’re not.” I exhaled and folded my hands into fists to hide the fact that they were shaking. “Tell me more about her symptoms.”
“Our physician, Tess, says her heart is beating too slowly. Then, she’s getting some swelling in her hands. And sir, I’m not telling you this so you can take pity on her. I’m telling you this because I hope you will show her kindness. She’s a good girl. A hard worker.”
“Ana, I’m not here to hurt Tapley,” I reassured her.
She cocked her head to the side. “Tapley?”
“Yes, it’s her last name.”
“No, it’s not that. There’s a man in her stories. He only calls her Tapley.”
“What stories?”
“Of her time before. Here, we like to tell stories about our lives and how they were before the disease showed up. Larke was a federal prosecutor in Washington with her own security detail. The head of the security detail, he called her Tapley. The way she explains it, they became close friends.”
“What happened to him?”
“She said he’s gone.”
“What information can you give me on him?” I pressed, curious about just how much she knew. “What’s his name? Do you know if he’s here? What did he do before? We’re always recruiting, so if we overlooked someone with private security experience—”
“He’s not here,” she insisted. “And I don’t know his name. I only know one thing when it comes to him.”
“Which is?”
“That he loved her.”
I glanced at the hallway, knowing I only had a few minutes left in me before I had to see Larke. I needed to see for myself what condition she was in.
“Did she say that, or was it implied?” I asked.
Ana scanned my face. “I don’t think she knows, but I’ve been around for a while. From her stories alone, I could tell. A man in love is an interesting thing. It doesn’t take long until it oozes from him, so much so that an old woman like me can pick it up from someone else’s narrative.”
“What about her?” I cleared my throat so loudly that it was almost comical. “Did she...feel the same way?”
“I think—”
“Sir!” Leigh hurried over, waving a stack of papers. “Got those copies for you.”
“Did you report this to anyone?” I asked, taking the stack and shoving it inside my uniform shirt.
“No, no one,” she said.
“Thank you.” I stood. “Now, will someone take me to Larke?”
I followed Ana down a hallway until we reached a white door with a number plaque that read 104. We entered the unit, stepping onto parquet floors covered by a massive area rug. The front room was lit by a battery-operated lantern, but from what I could make out, it was immaculate.
Cozy.
Clean.
There was a small kitchen with a gas stove and refrigerator, the appliances mismatched and not as pristine as the ones in Woodhaven.
Yet, they sparkled.
The living area housed a small sofa, chairs, and assorted bookshelves. A board game sat in a half-uncovered box on a coffee table in the middle of the room.
I followed Ana to the bedroom.