A Passing Curse (2011) (57 page)

“Such a nice man,” Hannah said and now looking at the both of them, “I was serious about you two coming for dinner.” She took Hamsun’s arm and they walked down the hall.

Rusty lay on the bed next to him and they looked outside. They could see as far as the islands and the orange layered clouds where the sun had gone down.

“Look,” Reese said and pointed down to the parking lot. Hamsun and Hannah Everett were walking to Dean Everett’s old Ford holding hands. Hamsun opened the door for her and let his face brush against her hair as she got into the driver’s seat. As he walked around the car, Hamsun twirled his stick and did a small jig.

Reese said, “Will you look at those two?”

“Yeah,” Rusty said, and kissed the top of his head. “Gives us something to look forward to.” She touched his hand. “Thanks for coming back. You didn’t have to.”

“You came for me,” he said. “We’re even.” He took her into his arms as best he could, lying there like he was. “What are you going to do now?”

She kissed him. “I’ll wait until you’re out - until your bones mend. And then let’s leave the state. I’m tired of the fires and the rain - the droughts are bad enough - and the earthquakes and the people. I heard about a dig starting in England when I was there,” she said. “Roman coins, artifacts. There may be gold, a little adventure, who knows. No earthquakes. No vampires. They need a site cataloguer and you could be my assistant.”

He shifted a little. “How about assistant to the cataloguer, that sounds better, a little more official, especially for a man of my experience.”

“The Cataloguer’s Assistant,” she said. “I like that. It sounds like the title of an English movie where everyone has wrinkles.” She touched his face. “I’m starting to like wrinkles.

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many vials?”

“You know?” She drew her hand back from his face.

“I know you.”

“An even dozen,” she said.

“You are something.”

“I’ll have them analyzed.”

“Like tomorrow?”

“If I can find a good microbiologist.”

“You couldn’t just let it go?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“You might not like what you find,” he said. “Halloran did not know what he had. Rabbits that couldn’t be killed. People that couldn’t be killed. The sample burned up. He was lucky he didn’t kill himself or someone else. He was lucky the sample didn’t get away from him. We all are. And very lucky we stopped Ajax before things got way out of hand. Before more people died. We likely just saw the tip of an iceberg. And you want to risk starting it all over again?”

“I’ll be more careful than Halloran,” she said. “I never told you the first rule of archeology. It’s this: ‘The deeper you dig, the more you find.’”

“You did tell me the first rule. But you said it was accuracy.” He brought her to him. “The deeper you dig, is it? I’ll keep that in mind the next time you get into trouble.”

“And what makes you think I’ll get into trouble?” she asked and kissed him.