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“We injected her with the WDE-4-11 formula,” Dan said. “That slowed the apoptosis reaction, but she’s still breaking down, particularly around her facial lesions.”

“We have to operate immediately,” Amos said. “We have to get rid of that compromised tissue, see if we can stop the chain reaction entirely.”

Margaret turned to Dan. “Has she given any indication of when she started showing symptoms? What has she said so far?”

“She just won’t talk to us,” he said. “She believes we’re here to kill her. She keeps asking for her father, but I think she knows her father is dead. She’s asking for her mother, too.”

“Did you contact the mother?” Margaret asked.

Dan shook his head. “We haven’t tried.”

Amos turned on him. “What the h.e.l.l do you mean, you haven’t tried? The girl just lost her father. She needs her family.”

“I have orders to keep any infected victims in isolation,” Dan said. “No contact of any kind until I’ve relinquished custody, which I’m doing now to you, Doctor Montoya.”

“Well, fine,” Margaret said. “We’ve got custody now. Clarence, please call the girl’s mother.”

“No,” Clarence said.

Margaret stared at him, dumbfounded. Dan she could understand, he was military, but Clarence? “We are calling this girl’s family, and right now.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Doc,” Clarence said.

“But she doesn’t have triangles,” Margaret said. “She’s got something, sure, but nothing is going to hatch out of her. She’s not a threat.”

Clarence shook his head. “You know we can’t say that for sure, Margaret. How many times have you told me that the disease might s.h.i.+ft, might become contagious? You said it’s mutated, right?”

Margaret didn’t know what to say—he was using her own words against her.

Amos jabbed a finger at the monitor. “That is an American citizen in that cage. Yes, cage. She’s got rights, G.o.ddamit.”

Clarence again shook his head. “Not right now she doesn’t. We contact the mother and the next thing you know, the press is all over it.”

“The press?” Amos shouted. “You’re worried about the press? Listen up, you goose-stepping a.s.sho—”

“Amos, stop,” Margaret said. “He’s right. She could be contagious.”