I’m not Lucy. I can’t begin to approach her level of technical sophistication, and as soon as we have a private moment I’ll get her to search. I check my phone again, and can tell by the digits displayed in the icons of certain proprietary apps whether anything new has landed. Nothing has that I consider a priority at the moment, and I hope Lucy’s all right. When I think about what’s happened so far today I can easily imagine her state of mind. I have a very good idea what she’s thinking.

Or better put, who’s shadowing her thoughts, gaining on her in leaps and bounds right about now, and it’s depressing. It’s a falling off the wagon of sorts because an enemy, a nemesis will become an addiction if one’s not careful. Lucy isn’t and never has been. She can’t be. It’s too personal for her. She’s going to get worked up and paranoid in a way that Marino, Benton and I never have and won’t when it comes to a certain human virus who infected her decades ago.

I decide I may as well head back out into the elements to see how we’re coming along with the canopied barrier, which has been trickier than we anticipated. Spray-painting the footprint has been a frustration and a headache because we can’t turn on the auxiliary lights without exposing the entire scene to anyone who might be watching and ready with cameras. It’s very dark despite the multiple flashlights poking and prodding. The terrain is uneven, and there are tall hedges, benches and lampposts in the way.

The first attempt wasn’t working so we had to stop, and trying again has proven a worse mess than imagined. First Marino’s bright orange outline had to be painted over in black, then the area was measured again and reconfigured as we made sure we weren’t going to be setting the tent on top of evidence. The second attempt wasn’t much better, and as I’m thinking this I’m well aware that Marino, Rusty and Harold are still at it and will be for a while longer.

It’s become quite the engineering challenge to enclose the bicycle, the body, and as many personal effects as possible while avoiding bushes and trees, and causing any potential damage to the scene. But if they don’t manage to get the tent pitched fairly soon, I’m going to have to improvise. This has gone on too long already. It’s not according to plan, and someone’s going to say something. Probably Tom Barclay.