"It's negative." I breathed easy for the first time in an hour. I was relieved, Ariana would be relieved, but... Isis didn't look the happiest.
"What's the matter?" I asked. She seemed more mopey than joyous.
"Well," she sighed, "I thought it would be nice, to have a little baby of our own." Oh, god. All this time, I've basically been thinking of myself and my own feelings more than her and her feelings. I hugged her tight.
"I'm sorry, Isis," I said. "I didn't mean to be so... Happy."
"It's fine," she sighed.
Well, I feel like I fucked up.
---
"Ariana." She opened the door, using it as support to stand.
"Yes?"
"The pregnancy test... It came back negative." She opened her mouth to say something, but I stopped her. "But, Isis isn't too happy about it." She shut her mouth to listen. "She actually wanted to be pregnant. Now she's all sad and I feel like a dick for being so happy about her not being pregnant." Ariana sighed.
"Hmm. Well, respectably, any female who wanted to be pregnant would be sad about a negative test, but why come to me?"
"'Cause you've been like my advice guru for everything, and you're kinda the reason I got with Isis in the first place."
"So, what would you like me to do? Want me to talk to her, want me to get your mind off of it?"
"Can you talk to Isis?"
"No." Excuse me?
"Wait, why not?"
"Because this is a situation you two need to settle on your own, no middle man. You're supposed to be talking to her, not me." She's right.
"You're right."
"When am I ever not?" I had to chuckle a bit at that.
"Thanks. What are you doing now?"
"Getting ready to head out and tell everyone who's comin' with me." She hopped away from the door and grabbed her infamous blue journal, now a faded baby blue as opposed to its old electric blue color. "C'mon, then. I gotta sneak out, and you're my escort."
---
Everyone sat on the floor, murmuring and making their predictions; we had been forced to regather in the lowest level of basement of the hospital. The meeting rooms were now used for billiards and crappy casinos. I cleared my throat, and the whole crowd fell silent.
"As if I didn't need more sleep, I've been up for the past 46 hours deciding on who is coming with me to Houston on a possible suicide mission. The people selected are as follows." Everyone was holding their breaths.
"Pogan. Ian. Danny. Ty. Quentin. Sage." All whose names were called stood. I got up on my one leg and led them to the second-lowest level of the basement. Everyone else dispersed.
---
"This is our plan: at around eleven, when all the goons are passed out from drinking, we're going to hotwire a Humvee. Quentin, you're in charge of hotwiring and driving." He nodded and grunted in agreement. "While Quentin is hotwiring, we're going to gather some supplies. Beg, steal, and/or cheat for any extra food, water, and ammunition. Especially ammunition. We meet by midnight at the latest, then we're off. If we're followed, I'm having Pogan and Ty up on the roof as snipers." Both agreed to their roles. "The drive will take an unknown amount of days, and there's always the possibility of zeds following us. The ride itself is already dangerous, and when we get to Houston, it's gonna be hell if there are more goons occupying the place than anticipated. Do you think you guys are up for it?" I got a collective, enthusiastic "yeah!". "Good. I knew I'd picked a good team. Anyway, Ian and Danny will take point when raiding Ava's building of captivity, and Ty and I will take up the back. We disperse after about ten minutes of scanning and possibly wiping out any threats. The first to find Ava is to report to me. I will report to everybody else. We get her, then get out as cleanly, silently, and quickly as possible. Is that clear?" Another collective "yeah!".
"What if we run out of supplies on our way there?" Ian asked.
"Then we take the time to raid nearby towns and gas stations. It'll make the trip longer, but we cannot afford a casualty out of, say, starvation or lack of ammo. A full team and a full supply of everything we need is needed to carry out this operation."
"Understood," he nodded.
"What if we get lost?" Quentin piped up. I took a second, then remembered I kept an atlas in my room for my history studies.
"I know where we can find a book of maps. Give me at least a half hour to retrieve it, it should take no time"
"Won't we need medical supplies?" Ty asked.
"All Humvees are equipped with basic first aid kits: gauze, bandages, iodine, thread and needle, and everything else. If ours doesn't have one for some reason, I know Danny has experience with working with what he's got when it comes to patching someone up. Also, since this is a hospital, you'd think they'd have some supplies in the storage units, no?" He clammed up at that, turning beet red. I chuckled. "Any other questions?" No one spoke up, so I dismissed everyone. Only Danny was left.
"The atlas is at your house, yes?" I nodded. "You'll need cover, and I've secretly been training myself to fire a gun better."
"What about hand-to-hand? Ya never know."
"Been training on that, too, with Pogan and Ty." I nodded, and smiled.
"Good. That's my boy."
