Spore by Tamara Jones Page A

room.
    “Stall them, if you can.” Sean leaned forward, chewing his lower lip, as he typed. A screen popped up, with another status bar, then first picture disappeared. He moved onto the next.
    “Is there anything I can do?” Mindy asked as the next picture saved and closed.
    “Are the cops looking for you?” Sean pulled a stack of CDs out of a drawer as the third photograph saved.
    Mindy winced. “Probably. I kinda escaped quarantine at the hospital.”
    He kept saving files. “Hide in the bathroom. But be quiet.”
    “Go ahead. Let him in.” Sean walked into the living room, camera in hand. “No reason to keep him standing in the rain.”
    Mare continued to face the barely open door. “He doesn’t have a warrant.”
    Outside, on the stoop, Todd sighed and said, “C’mon, Mare. I told you I’m not here as a deputy, I’m here as a friend, okay? Just give me the memory card and I’ll get out of your hair.”
    “Friend or not, you’re still a cop. You want to take my private property, you’d better have a warrant.”
    Sean laid a hand upon Mare’s shoulder and drew her away from the door. “Mare, babe, it’s okay. Let him in.”
    Todd entered, his bulk diminished under a rain slicker, and nodded his thanks. “Look, I know and you know what you saw, but right now is not a good time. I’d really appreciate it if you could just give me the memory card—“
    “I told you,” Mare said, “not without a warrant! Friends still have rights, you know.”
    Todd frowned. “Give it to me, and I will keep you out of this shit that’s about to hit the fan.”
    Sean held out the camera. “Here. It shorted out anyway, but I’d appreciate a receipt at least.”
    “Don’t need to make any more paper trail than we already have.” Todd opened the side of the camera. “Corroded batteries, that’s a nice touch,” he muttered as he slid the memory card loose. He held it like a coin between his fingertips. “This the right one, or have you substituted a fake?”
    “It’s the only one I have. The pics are on it. Or were.”
    Todd dropped the card onto the floor and crunched it beneath his boot. “The correct answer is ‘no comment’, or ‘I’ll have to ask my lawyer’. Anyone else comes to talk to you about what happened tonight, that’s all you say.” He tossed the camera back to Sean. “Got it?”
    Sean caught it and watched Todd pick up the pieces of memory card. “Yeah, I got it.” Rather have gotten the receipt. Curious, but reminding himself that Mindy was hiding down the hall, Sean asked, “Why are you doing this? Destroying evidence?”
    Todd sighed and stood. “Because there’s too much weird shit happening today and you haven’t done anything but try to help these people. Or whatever they are. I don—“
    Sean took a step forward. “They’re miracles . I saw—“
    “I know what you saw,” Todd sighed. “I’ve seen it, too. It’s been a shitty ass day, okay? I’ve had to explain to these scared fungaloids that every person they used to know and love has moved, died, remarried, or thinks this is all a cruel joke. I’ve been spit on, yelled at, hit, kicked, and threatened. That part’s pretty normal, but being the first on the scene after a kidnapping and having to question terrified parents was pretty awful. Plus I’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours, the last five in the rain. I’m tired. No, I’m exhausted and my ass is already in enough trouble. I just want to file my report and sleep for about four days.”
    He sighed and turned to go. “I don’t think the recruit knew who you were. But if he talks, if anyone shows up to question you, remember what I said.”
    “Dammit, Todd. What’d you do?” Mare asked, her voice soft.
    Todd sagged. “Some of the fungaloids disappeared from the hospital. I was lead man there, so it’s my ass. I’ll be damned if I let this evidence leak.”
    Sean frowned. He keeps calling them fungaloids. Is that stuff in the cemetery a