We continue on!
“You all right, Jack?” Pam asked me as I started to slow down after my third chew. We were waiting in an empty office while somebody went over the examination room yet again for traps. Director Ong was teeter-tottering between fury at the attack, and terror at what it might mean for her future with the Bureau; I was pretty sure by now she wasn’t actually complicit, which still didn’t mean it wasn’t her fault.
I swallowed my redgum (every little bit helps) and shook my head. “Just burning out all the crap from last night,” I said. “I’ll be good to go.”
“You need a drink?” she asked. “They got me a list of safe donors. A couple even volunteered for direct contact.”
That made me grimace. I don’t mind fang-chasers, really. But… all right, I mind fang-chasers. Too many of ‘em got the look of somebody who’d climb right into a blood-pit and then put on the manacles themselves. God damn it, we fought wars to stop that. I don’t get the younger generation, sometimes.