The Chemist

“She’s right here. Just one more second of patience, brother dear.”

Rather than hand her the phone, Daniel pulled her close for a lingering hug. With her face hidden in his chest, breathing in his smell, she smiled. But when he finally leaned away, she was shaking her head, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t thinking.”

She blew out a frustrated breath, then held her hand out for the phone. He gave it to her with a sheepish grin, his other arm still loosely around her.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to keep us alive,” she muttered, then spoke into the phone. “Hello.”

“Good morning. I see my idiot brother hasn’t learned anything from his mistakes.”

“What’s happened?”

“Not much. A flurry of phone calls, but no one else has implicated himself at this point.”

“Then why are you calling?”

“Because it feels like you and Daniel have an infinite capacity to screw things up. It’s making me a nervous wreck.”

“Well, it’s been lovely chatting —”

“Don’t get mad, Oleander, you know I mean Daniel. I just wish you could somehow put a leash on him.”

“He’s new. He’ll get it.”

“Before he kills himself?”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Daniel asked.

“No one likes an eavesdropper,” Kevin said loudly. “Give the girl some space.”

“Here, just talk to him yourself. I’m going to sort our things out so we’ll be ready to go when the sun sets.”

She handed the phone back to Daniel and freed herself. He didn’t stay on much longer with his brother. They just exchanged a few insults while she walked back to the Humvee and surveyed the damage. The cargo hold was still total chaos. Well, she had plenty of time on her hands now and not much else productive to do. She pulled the PPK from the small of her back and put it away inside a Ziploc bag in her backpack. Next, she rolled up the sleeping bag and stashed it out of the way on the passenger’s seat so she could locate all the stray ammo.

She heard Daniel climb in beside her. He went to work combing the space for loose objects.

“I am sorry,” he said while he worked, not looking in her direction. “It’s just, you were sleeping and Einstein was restless, and we seem so alone here. It felt normal. I guess that should have been my first clue that I was committing a crime.”

She kept her eyes on her work, too. “Imagine if you had woken up here alone.”

“I should have thought of that.”

“I remember someone recently promising me that he would ask if it was okay before he breathed.”

He sighed. “Kevin’s right, isn’t he? I’m terrible at this.”

She started organizing the different magazines into Ziploc bags and then sliding each into an outside duffel pocket.

“I see what you’re doing there,” she told him. “You’re making it so I have to either agree with Kevin or forgive you.”

“Is it working?”

“Depends. Did anyone see you?”

“No. We saw no signs of life aside from a few birds and squirrels. You know how most dogs chase squirrels? Einstein catches them.”

“That might come in handy if we have to live out of this Humvee any longer. I’m not much of a hunter.”

“One more night, right? We’ll survive.”

“I truly hope so.”

“Er… do you want to save these?” Daniel asked, sounding confused. “Are they… walnuts?”

Alex glanced up to see which Ziploc he was referring to.

“Peach pits,” she said.

“Trash?”

She took the bag from his hand and tucked it into the duffel she was reorganizing.

“Not trash,” she said. “I use them for the sodium cyanide that occurs naturally in the inner kernel of the pit. There’s not much in each – I have to collect hundreds of pits to get a usable amount.” She sighed. “You know, I used to like peaches. Now I can’t stand them.”

She looked over and saw that Daniel was frozen in place, eyes wide. “Cyanide?” He sounded startled.

“One of my security systems. When it reacts with the right liquid acid, it creates hydrocyanic acid. Colorless gas. I make ampoules large enough to saturate a ten-by-ten room. Pretty basic stuff. I don’t have access to high-end materials anymore. It’s a lot of bathtub chemistry for me these days.”

Daniel’s expression evened out and he nodded like everything she’d just said was perfectly sane and normal. He turned back to collecting stray ammo. She smiled to herself.

Alex had to admit she felt a little calmer when their gear was all organized and neatly stowed; the best thing about obsessive-compulsive disorder was the cozy high you got from a tidy space. She took stock of all the weapons that remained to her and was comforted by that as well. The earrings could not be replaced, and she was low on several compounds, but the majority of her arms were still in working order.

For dinner they had granola bars, Oreos, and a bottle of water they shared as they sat on the back edge of the open Humvee; her legs dangled a good foot off the ground, but his toes touched. At his insistence, she took more Motrin. At least the over-the-counter pills were easily replaceable. She didn’t need to be such a hoarder with those.

“When do we leave?” Daniel asked when they’d cleaned everything up.