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a dingy tee shirt saunter past her door.
    “How did that man get in here?” she demanded.
    Darryl raised a hand to keep her from charging after the intruder. “That’s Rick DeAngelo, one of our new drivers. He’s the one who found the wavelength filters for our Hb readers.”
    Unclenching her fists, Taeya took a deep breath to slow her pulse. She’d heard stories about this driver. Someone could show him an illustration of what they needed and he’d come back with it. But his talent had gotten so exaggerated, she’d begun to think he was an urban legend.
    “Why isn’t he wearing a hospital-issued uniform?”
    “Take it easy, Doc,” Darryl said. “He’s also the one who tracked down those Fentanyl patches after we tapped out our morphine supply. Sherman figures he can bend the rules with this guy.”
    “Of course he does.”
    “Come on. I’ll introduce you. He was telling me some strange stuff about the D.C. facility this morning. Maybe you should check it out.” Darryl launched down the hallway after the slob. “Hey, Rick!”
    After the two slapped hands in some juvenile greeting, Darryl asked him how things were going.
    “They’re gone, man.”
    Rick’s eyes drifted past Darryl. For an instant, he met Taeya’s gaze, but then his eyes scanned slowly down and up again. Was this bozo checking her out?
    Darryl was oblivious to the leer. “Rick, this is Doctor Sanchez. Tell her what you were telling us this morning. You know, about D.C.”
    “Doctor Sanchez.” Rick’s voice had the sleazy cadence of a barfly. “My pleasure.” He held out his hand.
    Taeya hesitated, making sure he caught her own slow scan of his slovenly appearance. His hair was longer than hers, but board-straight and pulled back in a ponytail. Evidently, he did not feel the need to shave on a regular basis. His ratty tee shirt was frayed at the neck, and had a tear above an illustration of a wrench. She looked away when she realized the drawing was supposed to symbolize a man’s genitalia. What a creep.
    She accepted his hand for a brief shake.
    He cocked an eyebrow, as if he couldn’t believe she didn’t find him as charming as the rest of the staff.
    “I just got back from D.C. last night,” he said. “Bad news down there.”
    “I already know,” Taeya snapped. “They’re processing twice as many patients as we are. That’s because they opened another wing.”
    Rick snorted. “Is that what they told you? Well, I ran into a nurse who just got canned. She said that eighty percent of the staff was fired.”
    “That’s ridiculous.” She dismissed both men with a smirk and a wave of her hand. No doubt a nurse had been terminated, and she’d used this delivery driver’s shoulder to cry on. He was certainly the type who would take advantage of a situation like that, assuring the sweet young thing that if she’d been fired, everyone would be fired. Had he rubbed his hands all over her as he sympathized? Coaxed her to his room?
    “And I think it’s irresponsible for you to perpetuate this rumor any further,” she added.
    “Rumor?” Rick’s dark eyebrows scrunched together. “You need to get your head out of your ass, Doc. The reason they don’t need the nursing staff anymore is because they’re dosing everyone who comes in the door with Nexinol, green codes and all.”
    Her mouth dropped open. Who did he think he was speaking to? When she had him ushered to the front door, would the rumors start that all drivers were being let go?
    He tapped his fingers on his chest. “I’ve seen the trucks lined up. They’re hauling bodies to the incinerators as fast as they can get them loaded. President Birch and the rest of those motherfuckers have given up controlling the situation. They’re bailing and they need a bigger secured facility.” He leaned into her face. “The D.C. unit.”
    For the first time, Taeya’s confidence faltered. Could politicians be taking over the Walter Reed facility in Washington? The idea was