As Jaime and Ruth roll into town, Ruth says, "Eyes open; mouth closed." They pull up to a military barricade, and Ruth flashes a badge of some sort, saying she's "expected." Now...is that badge fake? Or does her private company issue badges that a guy like this will recognize? Or...do they contract with the FBI, like Marriott does when they run the cafeteria at an office building? I don't get it at all, I have to admit. The guy wants to know who Jaime is, and Ruth says, "She's my muscle." Jaime likes the sound of that. None of this holds any kind of water, but, whatever, the guy lets them through, because otherwise? No show. Jaime takes note of the sign that says the population of Paradise is/was 201.
Ruth enters some kind of depressing, fluorescent-lit semi-building and calls out to "Marty," who answers cheerfully. Ruth mutters to Jaime that Marty is with the CDC, and she thinks Ruth is with the Department of Agriculture. "Is it always the Department of Agriculture?" Jaime asks. "It's whatever gets us in the door," Ruth tells her. So I guess that was a...counterfeit Department of Agriculture badge, then. Perfect. Marty opens up a body bag, and Jaime flinches as Marty says she has "two hundred more" just like it. Ruth asks where the survivors are, and Marty says they're nowhere. There aren't any. The whole town is dead. And then the dead lady seems to sort of...roll over toward Jaime of her own accord, the better to show off her white-glazed, extremely dead eyeballs. I really hope she wasn't of the "leave a good-looking corpse" school of thought, because if she is, she didn't.
Back from commercials, Jaime is looking queasy while hugging the outside of the temporary building where I guess the bodies are, and Ruth comes out to find her. Jaime doesn't understand why Ruth isn't more upset, and Ruth assures that this is "a bad day...a really bad day." Jaime asks if people have "a right to know about this," and Ruth says that normal people would only panic. Bionic people and fake representatives of the Department Of Agriculture are the only ones who can handle it. Ruth's phone rings, and it's Jonas. She reports to him that an airborne synthetic has killed everyone in town, and that it's something "we" developed. I don't know if "we" refers to the Berkus Group, the military, the United States...no idea. She reports that, conveniently enough, the thing is only toxic for a short time, so there's no more harm done. She's going to look for samples, but she's afraid that this is only the beginning of...something. You know, worse. He says he'll get people ready, and when she points out that he said before that he didn't have anyone, he says that he'll "rent some guys." That sounds promising, certainly.