Rachael Entry 4: Apart

Chapter 36

It feels like I have a pit in my stomach as I hastily jog up the stairs to the third floor. After all I've done and said to Roberts it's not likely that he'll help me. Persuading him into doing it for the community and not me would render useless as he cares about nothing else but himself and his cause: finding a cure. I still do feel bad for him. A tiny percentage of my heart goes out to him for losing everybody he knows and cares about; but who hasn't? We should be bonding over the fact that we've all lost people important to us instead of killing each other over it. But that's in the past, Sam and Peter are long dead, but if the Professor doesn't comply he'll be next.

I open the door to the old bio lab which used to be a second home for Harry and me. I swear I hear our laughter echoing in the walls. The crazyman is pouring solutions from beakers into graduated cylinders. He hasn't cleaned up the blood from the bodies and I wouldn't be surprised if the bodies were still here had it been his responsibility.

"Roberts." I yell. He jumps and turns around facing me with a worried look on his face. I try to look as serious and menacing as I can possibly look but the anxiety of this plan not working is too much, "I need some stuff."

"...what kind of stuff...?" He meekly responds. I glare at him. I can now tell his shyness is an act just like my assertiveness.

"Stuff for a makeshift bomb." He starts to shake his head and waves me off. It takes too much restraint to not take the safety off my gun, "It isn't an option, you either give me the supplies for me to make it or you, me, and everybody else in here dies."

"I just can't spare my materials."

"You're not going to have any materials in a couple of seconds." I grunt advancing on him. Something goes off in his brain and he gasps suddenly.

"You're right, I need helpers on supplies! Will you help me?" He pleads. I squint at him in confusion. It seems as if he's in his own world where everything revolves around him and he doesn't seem to notice the gun in my hand and my offensive stance. I retreat into a normal posture and try to dance around this minefield.

"Okay, I'll help you get your things out if you make me this bomb." I comply

"Thank you, thank you," He scurries over to a lab table and starts grabbing bottles with substances like a small bottle of nitric acid and a tub of gasoline, "Give me ten minutes."

"Do we have ten minutes? Over." I ask Harry into my walkie.

"We've got four but I can make it ten. Over." He responds.

"Do it." I say and let go of the walkie. I carefully watch Roberts as he mixes dangerous concoctions as it gets harder and harder not to think about Harry's request.