Critical Reaction by Todd M Johnson

Author:Todd M Johnson [Johnson, Todd M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042060, FIC034000, FIC031000, Nuclear reactors—Fiction, Radioactive fallout survival—Fiction
ISBN: 9781441261502
Goodreads: 18850961
Publisher: Bethany House Publishers
Published: 2013-10-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

TWENTY-THREE DAYS UNTIL TRIAL

SHERMAN, WASHINGTON

Poppy dropped the list of names he’d been calling the last few days as another explosion of coughs built in his chest. Before he could stand, they erupted, bending him over and wracking his lungs until he was gasping for air. His stomach muscles ached by the time he finally straightened, stood, and stumbled to the bathroom for the prescription his wife had filled before heading to her sister’s house for the afternoon.

Pills in one hand, he cupped a mouthful of water with the other beneath the tap and gulped them down. After a moment, he eased straight, confronting his bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror.

Poppy walked unsteadily back into the living room. He dropped onto the couch, where he picked up his cell phone as well as the list once again.

Poppy skimmed the scribbled names. Fourteen were struck off. None had been helpful. Most had echoed Poppy’s surprise about Lew’s disappearance. That left half a dozen to go.

After ruminating for a day about what he’d witnessed that night outside the reservation, Poppy had turned to searching for Lewis. But first, he’d told Suzy everything—including HR’s effort to make him change his statement. Over several days, she’d cycled through stages of emotion from relief at learning the source of Poppy’s strange behavior to volcanic anger from concern about where this all would lead. In the end, she’d offered to help him with his search for Lewis.

Poppy had gently but firmly turned her down. She had a job of her own. More importantly, he knew Suzy. If he let her, she’d throw herself into it and tear herself down with worry and anxiety in the process. It’d be better if one of them stayed on the sidelines for now. He’d thanked her with a smile and a kiss.

But his search these past few days hadn’t paid any dividends. He’d confirmed that Lewis didn’t have close family in town. Lew’s parents lived in Missouri, though Poppy was having trouble running them down. Lew had worked at Hanford for three years, yet Poppy couldn’t locate anyone Lewis had reached out to on his way out the door—or anytime in the months since the explosion.

Poppy ran his finger down the dwindling list. The next in line was a man identified by someone at work as Lew’s former roommate. He punched in the number.

“Hello?” a man answered. He sounded young.

Poppy identified himself and explained why he was calling.

“No, sorry, man,” the voice said. “Not a word. Nada. I was out of town when that explosion happened. I come back and he’s checked out. Left cash for the last couple months on the lease. And he hasn’t answered a text or posted on Facebook since he went ghost.”

“Thanks,” Poppy said. He was about to punch out of the call when the voice came back.

“Tried Bev?”

“Who?”

“Beverly Cortez. She was an on-again, off-again girlfriend of Lew’s. They had the mother of all fights last summer. Has she got a temper. Lew called her his ‘exploding piñata.

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