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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/166115-The-Underbelly-7--Aftermath
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Mystery · #166115
Earlier in the story... (These chapters can be read out of sequence.)
Alex staggered out of the emergency room and onto the ambulance ramp. The bustle of people and traffic in the parking lot reflected unyielding business as usual. Dirk's death seemed surrealistic, a void tearing at every fiber in his body. He had seen Dirk's body, but hadn't yet absorbed the full impact of what happened. He walked slowly into the parking area and turned slowly around, adding the panoramic to his uncollected thoughts. He leaned on his back against a parked dirty white utility van and stared back at the hospital. He could not think. He could not feel. He was numb.

"You waiting for me, Dayton?" Dr. Rodriguez's sharp deep voice pierced Alex's fog.

Alex straightened and faced his supervisor. "No, uh, just resting before I walk over to my lab. Is this your van?"

"Yes," Rodriguez said dryly. "And it's going to get all over your lab coat." His attempt at humor was accompanied by a one-sided smile.

"I think I'm in some sort of shock. Dirk was my buddy, and my research partner. Sometimes days will go by and he's the only other person I'd see," Alex said with a hint of reminiscence. Alex paused and noted Rodriguez's uncharacteristically fatigued look. His facial skin was sallow and his eyes squinted from deeper in their sockets than usual. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I guess we all could use some sleep."

"So why are you going to your lab? You should go home and rest."

"Dirk and I were finishing up some work at the lab yesterday, and last night. There's some stuff I have to get, and I want to just check on things, and," Alex choked, "I want to sit in our lab, and think about him."

"You know what? That's a bad idea. You should go home, and sleep, and then face it all with a clear head."

"I guess you're right. But I really do have to get our research logs and backups. And I'm parked over there anyway."

"Common, hop in. I'll drive you over. And I'll come up and keep you company while you get your things," Rodriguez offered. "Then you go home."

Alex was seeing a side of Rodriguez he never knew existed. An almost human concern for Alex's welfare that was out of step with his usual compassion-void personality. He was generally "all business", and mercilessly pushed interns to their limits, while showing little empathy for the doctors or the patients.

"OK, I could use the ride. But you don't have to come up to the lab. I'll be fine."

They climbed into the front seats of the unlocked van. The van was bare. There was no radio, scant upholstery, and a sun-baked dashboard peeling vinyl tatters. From the passenger seat, Alex looked over his left shoulder at the beat-up empty work van. Alex knew Rodriguez could afford better. "Do you have a bumper sticker that says ‘My Other Car is a Porsche'?"

"I wish," Rodriguez said. "But actually this works out just fine. It doesn't invite any attention from the local predators. Nothing to steal."

"My Mustang's the same way." They both managed a small laugh.

Rodriguez rattled and squealed his van through the narrow inner city streets and pulled up in front of the research building. It's five stories of cement block and stucco were renovated ten years earlier, as a reincarnation of some sort of office building. The University's Medical School and hospital system had steadily taken over many of the area's buildings, converting broken, boarded up relics into modern new facilities. Many retained some of their original features. A deco pillar here, a hotel awning there, or, in the case of the research building, a wiry fire escape clinging to the alley side of the structure. Rodriguez turned off his engine.

"You really don't have to come up. You must be tired too," Alex said as he opened his door with a loud metallic creak.

"I'm coming with you. That's an order Dayton," Rodriguez said in a well-practiced military style. He creaked open his own door and stepped around to the sidewalk. "Where to?"

Alex punched his code into the security box at the front door, and pushed it open with a loud buzz. "Stairs or elevator?"

"Stairs. Always."

They chugged up the zig zagging series of stairs to the fourth floor, and walked under fluorescent tubes half way down the long hallway. Alex pulled his keys from his coat pocket and opened the door. The lab was quiet and dark. Alex flipped the wall switch and the lab lights strobed and flickered to brightness.

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