Beaumont stayed beside Blake, his shoulders stiff with tension.
Throat too dry to speak, Blake pushed past the trepidation and stepped further into the room. He never thought he’d missthat sterile, antiseptic smell of a clinic, but now its loss made the hair on the back of his head stand on end.
Behind the nurse’s station was the med room. The door had a passkey, but Blake knew from experience that staff usually just swiped their name badges.
Blake stepped around the counter, forcing himself to breathe evenly, only to find the door wasn’t locked.
It wasn’t even there.
Between the smashed computers, strewn paperwork, and the eyewatering smell of burnteverythingwas a gaping black hole where the door should have been. Its hinges were still clinging to the door frame, brassy in the low light. Beyond the door, he could see shattered medicine cabinets and wrecked refrigerators.
No, no, no,he pushed himself into darkness and squinted, desperate to make out something whole. Something not crunching under his boots. But the room was trashed. Someone had already ripped it apart, taking everything. The shelves were covered in a thick layer of dust, and his eyes watered from the lingering smell of smoke.
Blake’s knees went weak, and he caught himself on a counter to keep from falling to the floor. This had been his one chance. His one idea. And now he was staring at empty refrigerators, trying to hold off the despair, wishing it was anger. Anger would be easy. Righteous, even. He could blame the looters, scream, and curse their names.
But how could he? When they were just trying to survive. Was it even wrong? In a world where the rules that held society together had gone up in smoke, and no one had any backups, could stealing potentially lifesaving medical supplies be raged against?
Hell, even if they just took them to get high, Blake couldn’t blame them for that either.
“Looks like Semtex,” Beaumont said as he peered closer to the mangled hinges. “Probably from a construction site.”
“Familiar with it?” Blake asked, voice strained.
“A little,” Beaumont admitted. “Good stuff—stable, easy to use, stores well.”
Blake bit his tongue to keep from lashing out at Beaumont, wishing he were Judd instead. Judd wouldn’t have been so matter-of-fact. He would have been angry. Phin, too, though he would have shown it differently. It would be in his eyes and the way he would have ripped the clinic apart. Even Victoria would have had the decency to be silent in his defeat.
And Gabriel…
Gabriel would have taken in the situation calmly. Any emotion he felt wouldn’t have been written on his face—at least not for anyone else to see. But Blake would see it. He would see the way he pushed his lips together. The calculations he would be doing in his mind. Orders would fall from his lips—telling Judd to pull out the map and look for any other clinics, hospitals, or even pharmacies in the area. He would tell Phin and Victoria to clear the place for anything useful, especially blankets and maybe even food. He’d tell them to break into a vending machine if no one else had.
Then he’d look at Blake. His face would soften, and for a brief moment, he would cease to be Commander Lennox and would just be Gabriel. He’d tell Blake he did good. That this wasn’t his fault. Then he’d kiss him quick and tell him not to give up.
Or at least, he would have. If he’d let Blake come with them anymore.
Clenching his fists, he felt the grit of dust collect in the creases of his palm. Gabriel was going to be so angry when he got back. And he wouldn’t even have anything to show for it.
God, he wished that little strip mall on the corner was open. It had a liquor store that gave discounts to first responders. Itwas only a few miles from here. He used to go on the way home from visiting his parents, before they moved to Florida. He remembered stopping to give a homeless guy some money once because he had a dog, and Blake had wanted to go into the vet clinic next door to buy the dog some food and?—
Blake pushed away from the counter so hard he nearly knocked himself in the other direction. Beaumont reached out to steady him, but he knocked his hand away, shouldering through the busted door and into the clinic.
Alvarez was standing in the middle of the room, a sour look on his face.
“The vet clinic,” Blake said, almost breathless with excitement.
“What?”
“There’s a vet clinic a few miles from here.” Blake was already walking toward the door.
“Great, you got a cat you’re not telling us about, or are we just going to get Lennox a muzzle?”
Spinning on his heel, Blake stomped over to Alvarez. “No. The clinic will have medical supplies.”
Tyler appeared out of one of the rooms, dusting his hands on the back of his pants. “You got fleas?”
Blake snapped. “Most veterinary medicines are interchangeable, if not the same, as human medications.”
Tyler made a face. “I’m not taking some dog pills.”