“Bring him another fucking bowl,” Bullets ordered, pissed. “When’s the last time you ate, son?”
Bishop registered the absence of noise in the room and found all eyes on him. He took the second bowl when it arrived and drank it down the same way, his other critical demands getting impatient. Their sharp teeth demanded to be unleashed on every threat racing toward them.
Bullets took the bowl when he lowered it and handed him a gallon of milk.
Bishop’s thirst kicked in and he guzzled half of it, aware of Lesion making his way closer for a better look at his wettest fucking anomaly dream.
He handed the jug back to Bullets and took the napkin he held out and wiped his mouth, realizing how fucked up everything was. Not just the dire situation but him as a man, as a husband, as a father. As a fucking human. He wanted to quantum architect everything back to normal, but the storm demanded a lot more than theusualhumanity.
“For such a time as this brother.”
Seer’s low words right behind him got intercepted by his ever-growing panic. It understood Seer perfectly. There was no time to debate or lament his condition or the crazy direction it was leading all of them. There was only time to leverage every ounce of it that he could.
“I need quick, thorough reports from each of you,” Bishop said. “Everything you know. In Hatch order. Go,” he said, pointing to Nitro.
“In regard to threats, nothing I’m aware of other than what Bacon reported.”
“Take a team of men and arrest them for trespassing. Hold them for interrogation,” Bishop ordered. He looked at Seer. “Who saw 8-Bit last?”
“He was with us in the parking lot with Sinrik,” Hurricane said. “He took off from there. Said he was going check on Cat.”
“Any reply from him yet?” he asked Spook.
He pulled his phone out and looked. “Negative.”
Fuck. “Soon as we’re done here, I want you to go find him,” he said to Spook not liking the bad feeling he had. “Anything to report?” he asked Bullets now.
“Kaj has his men on our boundaries. Everything’s calm now but we’re all fondling our bullets and holding our breath.”
He looked at Traps next.
“Nothing of critical relevance in my Hatch,” he announced.
Hurricane volunteered, “Calm before the storm in my swamps. But those nuns dispatched there leave no stone unturned in regard to prep. They’ve visited every family and delivered little how-to booklets covering responsibilities regarding the incoming families.”
Bishop had wondered more than once why the hell there was two-hundred nuns in his swamp and now he knew. This job would surely require their skills.
He looked at Bacon now who raised both hands in surrender. “Not gonna lie, I’m a little concerned about my calculations regarding rations. I ran them by Quantum but then heard about his uh… shortage episode.”
Well, fuck.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Bishop said, sure of the exact opposite. Too fucking late now. “Worst case scenario, we still know how to fish and hunt.”
“If it makes you feel better, Tully ran the numbers and says they’re perfect,” Lesion said. “I’ve never found her to be wrong when it comes to her calculations.”
Bishop remembered her little quirk, wondering if Lesion found a way toenhancethat. “Good to hear,” Bishop said. “Anything else?”
“Nothing immediately of dire consequence.”
“My Hatch is fine,” Shank said, “but Rukem thinks Nidev is hiding something.”
Bishop’s adrenalin pinged as he regarded him. “And?”
“Said he reminds him of a cool-headed psychopath trying to hide his deviances.”
“Well, he’s been bitten and now has a woman,” Nitro reminded, like both explained his psychopathy to a T.
“King Tut’s probably just paranoid,” Shank said. “Everybody is suspicious to him.”