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cheating whore and said she was probably fucking her brother. Jack intervened, telling Gary he needed to sleep it off, but instead he grabbed Sara by the hair and said, “This is my woman; my bitch. And you can keep your god damn mouth shut as you are a visitor in my house.”
    Jack had had enough and wound up beating the shit out of Gary, sending him to the emergency room. When the police arrived, Sara said that Jack had started it and he was the one led away in handcuffs.
    That was all a year ago and he’d refused to speak with her since. She’d called a few times, but he never answered. Now he wished he had. He’d do anything to hear her voice. They had been so close growing up, then she married Gary and things changed. She was distant, hardly inviting him up to her place. She was probably too embarrassed to have him over. Now she was worried sick over him, at least he imagined she was.
    He had been so disappointed in her, having him arrested, letting that loser off. Gary was the victim , b ut the truth was , she needed help. He should’ve been there for her; gotten her away from that crazy son of a bitch. She only called the cops , because Gary had probably threatened her. That bastard was the one she had to live with. If Jack made it out of the city , no, strike that; when he made it out of the city, he’d make it his mission to get her away from that asshole husband of hers.
    Jack got up, shut the radio off and paced the room. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was experiencing a little bit of cabin fever. But what could he do about it? N othing. Thinking about how to approach Dr. Reynolds, a thought popped into his head . If the man did come up with a way to fix the problem with the ENHANCE program, how was he supposed to get word to the proper authorities? T ravel through the escape tunnel and hand deliver the message? That just didn’t seem right. The man must have a way of communicating with the outside , some electronic way he didn’t want anyone to know about. So why lie about it? He would have to remember to ask the doc about it when they spoke.
    Sitting in his chair an hour later, playing Xbox, he felt more useless than ever. Everyone at the bunker had a job. He didn’t. He was also the only non-military employee in the place. How was this possible? But he knew the answer. He was close enough to the bunker for Reynolds to send a team for him and his wife. Reynolds had gotten Jess’ name from the police report. Once the outbreak occurred, he had no time to go around the city rounding up infected, but going into a building directly above the bunker, a building that his corporation owned, had been within reason.  
    So what could Jack do to make a difference? To help? He thought of Zaun. Was his friend still alive? Was anyone in his building still alive? To traipse around the city was crazy, but what about just going to his building? That wasn’t so nuts, was it? He didn’t think so. That’s what he could do. Get some of the guards together, lead an expedition into his building, and see if there were any survivors. And if he or any of the others became infected, they would know how to kill the bots, becoming uninfected again. He had to see if Reynolds would go for it.

Chapter 7
     
    Jack rapped on Reynolds’ door, the man’s room more like an apartment. The doctor had a king-sized bed , a computer , a large bookcase, filled with various titles , a bathroom with a stall shower—Jack and the others had a communal washroom—and a faux fireplace with some kind of furry creature skin rug in front. Pictures of various outdoor landscapes hung on the walls. 
    “Keeps me from going nuts,” Reynolds said, noticing Jack looking at the pictures. He was sitting in a red leather recliner in front of the fireplace, sipping from a stout, yet bulbous glass , with what looked like brandy in it. 
    “Nice place you have here, doc.”
    “Thank you. It’s not home, but it’ll do. Now, what can I