Effseven

3 The Water Plant*

Finster started his car again.
The water plant was across town. But there was no traffic, and he was there in a few minutes. As he pulled into the parking area he could see a couple of trucks there. It looked like the lights were on inside. He unbuckled the 45 and slid it under the seat. Then after some thought, he pocketed the 380, just to be safe. Then, he headed for the office.
The outer office was empty. No one was at the receptionist's desk. That was no surprise. He could hear someone talking inside Mr. Porter's office.

"Yes, we've been all though the city. There doesn't seem to be anyone here... Well, of course we could have missed something... Yes, we'll be closing down soon... We'll make another quick sweep and leave in the morning."

Finster heard a phone snap shut. There must still be at least one carrier up. He was glad to hear another voice, but the conversation seemed odd. It put him on guard, and there was that odd memory of what he'd seen when he had been sick.

He knocked on the door, and heard a startled voice.
"What the hell?"
It sounded like Mr. Porter, and he sounded surprised.
He heard a chair being slid back, and heavy foot steps approached the door. There was a hesitation, and then it opened a crack. A man Finster didn't recognize peered out at him. Behind him, Finster could see Mr. Porter sitting at his desk.
"It's OK, Larry," Porter said, "Let him in."
As Finster entered, he was aware of the comforting weight of the pistol in his pocket.

"Finster," said Mr. Porter with an odd smile, "Where have you been?"
Finster noticed that the other man had shut the door, and was now behind him. It made him uncomfortable, but he didn't want it to show. There was a cell phone on the desk of a type he didn't recognize.

"I've been sick, Mr. Porter."
"Ah, yes. There seems to be a lot of that going around."
"What's going on, sir?" he asked.
"Well..." said Porter. He hesitated, he seemed to be searching for the words. Finally he began again.
"It seems to be some kind of Flu, a new type of Influenza we didn't know about. Highly contagious they say. Were you very ill?"
"I was bad sick. My roommate is dead."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Finster didn't think he seemed all that sorry. He asked,
"You didn't catch it?"
Porter glanced at the man behind Finster and said,
"No, we were lucky."



*The Fuzz realizes that if someone were to actually read this stuff, they would be getting it sorta backwards. There is a link in the sidebar, "Finster", that will take one to another page with this mess in it's proper order.