Acceleration

by Lin Larson

  Heather was still in the car sleeping. She tossed fitfully in the car’s seat. She saw her face crumbling into dust. Suddenly she awoke to Sam’s shaking her shoulders. He was still standing outside the car and beside her. The door was open. He was kneeling down. His eyes held such sadness.

  “You okay, Heather. I’m sorry. I added nightmares to your peaceful youth.”

  Heather clutched his hand tightly, then relaxed. “I’m fine now.” She sat up straight and looked around. She blinked at the bright lights. “Where are we?”

  “Washington,” Sam said soberly.

  “Wow,” said Heather. “I’ve never been here.”

  “It’s quite a city. Now we find a motel. We all need rest.” Sam nodded at the sleeping Eddie in the back seat. “Do you want to get out and stretch before we leave here?” said Sam.

  “Yep.” She stood and did three jumping jacks and plopped back into the car. “I’m ready,” Heather said eagerly.

  “I wish I felt like that, jumping around that is. All right. We go.” Sam walked to the car. He wiped his face with his sleeve. He was sweating! It was freezing outside, and he was hot. Oh, not a good sign. Perhaps his fever would go away on its own. Perhaps.

  #

  The weary travelers skidded the vehicle next to the pale green door of their small motel room and deposited themselves haphazardly about the basic, cheap, cream-colored room. The two simple double beds were most inviting. Even a refreshing shower couldn’t tempt them from the soft refuge.

  “I promise I’ll hit the bath later,” Heather puffed her pillow and yawned.

  “Me too, whatever you said,” Eddie mumbled back through closed eyes. I’ll sleep on top of the bedspread tonight, if you want. You did it last time, Heather. Our parents may be pleased. Like we are never awake enough to even stare at each other. I’m asleep. Night.” Eddie closed his eyes and was out.

  Sam shook his thoughts to clear them and stumbled to turn on the television. He turned it on softly. “Sorry kids. I have to listen here.” He lay back down with the remote control. The lights from the television broadcast flashed hypnotically before him. He swallowed and closed his eyes. His throat felt raw and his body felt hot. He was sick, and the timing was lousy. He shivered and yanked the blanket to his chin, as the commentator babbled.

  #

  “So, Ellie, I think the President has given some snappy answers. What do you think? Isn’t this atypical? Has he been hitting the books or have his advisors finally been briefing him properly? This is not the man of four years ago.”

  “No, Tom, I agree. The President has been trying very hard, especially since the election is coming. He has taken seriously the comments that he is charming but absent-minded and that his wife runs the country. He has been on a self-improvement crusade. We are seeing the difference.”

  “What is this regime?” Ellie pursued. “We all should follow it.”

  “Maybe he just eats right and reads a lot,” Tom replied. “He also believes ritualistically in special vitamins.”

  #

  “Special vitamins. Oh, no.” Sam quickly sat up on the bed. His head started swimming, and he abruptly slipped back to his position. Heather noticed.

  #

  Ellie was again talking. “Most Presidents age terribly. He almost looks younger than when he was a congressman. His office must be treating him well.”

  She and her partner, Tom, laughed.

  #

  Sam pressed the remote and changed the channel.

  #

  An announcer was speaking. “President Wilson Quint will attend a funeral for his dog, Peaches, tomorrow at an undisclosed cemetery location. He does so to promote animal kindness and respect. He will miss the funeral of Congressman Reynolds, however. He expresses his condolences to the family of Mr. Reynolds.”

  #

  Sam flipped the channel again.

  #

  “Mr. President,” the lady of the television press asked, “what are your budget plans?”

  The President answered hotly. “And what are yours? Are you cutting spending? Do you expect your country to take care of everyone’s needs? We have far too many examples of human trash feeding on our goodwill.”

  The President’s aide tried to usher off the President. “President Quint will be available for questioning again next week.”

  Quint cut in. “Mister, I’m not finished!”

  The aide interrupted again. “Sir, we are out of time.”

  Quint furiously responded. “Make time.”

  “No, Sir,” the aide continued. “I can’t.”

  The camera caught a glimpse of the anger seething from the leader of the land.

  #

  Sam changed the picture again. Cartoons, sitcoms, crime and mysteries shows, violent live action, more news. Then he stopped. It was Elizabeth Martin concluding her report with the question that had not been answered. “When will I meet you, Mr. Jensen Are you afraid of me?” Her dark eyes flashed suggestively.

  #

  Sam sighed. Perhaps it’s been worth it. Martin was carrying the ball pretty well without him. He shut down the chatter of the television and slept.

  Heather contemplated the darkness for a short time and then she too drifted into sleep. She suddenly awoke to Sam and Eddie’s voices.

  Sam was shouting, and Eddie was frantically trying to quiet him.

  Heather smoothed Sam’s tousled dark hair and pulled back her hand, as if stung. “Eddie, he’s on fire with fever. Wet the towels I’ll call for an ambulance.

  The manager of the tiny motel now pounded on the door for quiet, as if intensifying the noise would help.

  ‘Sir,” Heather cracked open the door ever so slightly. It’s my friend. He’s delirious with fever. We’re calling an ambulance now. It will be quiet soon.”

  The little man’s anger evaporated, and he shifted his demeanor to a jittery twitch. “He better not die here. It’s bad for my business. Be out by morning.”

  Heather pursed her lips. “Of course, we will.” She almost shut the door in his face. She wished she had.

  CHAPTER 29

  Strong arms lifted Sam onto a table. Sam pulled the hazy face of the medic to him. “Corporal, it’s my crew. We went down near the canyon. You have to get them out.” He pushed the body back. “Who are you? What is this place? Corporal, I want out?” He jerked, but the strong arms were back, holding him in place.

  “Hold him while I look at his arm. See the striations. Here’s the source of the mass infection.”

  “Infection!” Sam’s voice boomed in his ears. “I’ve been shot, but I took care of it.”

  “You sure did, Mister Sinclair. Nurse, hand me that syringe.”

  Sam felt the sting, but he was confused. Sinclair? Then he remembered the kids must have entered him under his cover.

  “The police want to know what happened?” The doctor had heavy bushy eyebrows. Sam stared at them. His head was still groggy.

  “I had a hunting accident a few days ago. My son tripped and shot me. It was nothing, so I didn’t report it.” Voices raged behind the partition. Sam doubted that Doctor Eyebrows even heard his answer.

  The doctor shouted to his nurse. “Keep Mr. Sinclair strapped down for now. I need to stop that noise on the other side of this room. It’s a crazy night.”

  The doctor yanked the partition open and then back as he made his exit to the other side and switched patients. His presence was certainly still heard, however.

  Sam drifted in and out of sleep, as he tried to make sense of the clamor.

  “What’s going on?” Sam mumbled as he felt the nurse giving him a shot and covering him with a blanket.

  “You are next door to the President of the United States. They just brought him in. He had a seizure at a funeral. I think he’s going to be okay though. Exciting, isn’t it?” The stocky little nurse pulled her hair behind her ears and patted it down. “I better see if they need my help. I’ll be back. You just rest now. I gave you a shot for
the infection. Now, you need rest.” She dimmed the exam light and tilted it from his face. She quickly disappeared behind the partition and joined the voices.

  Sam’s mind caught fire in the darkness. He couldn’t have planned this better. He wanted to laugh insanely, but instead he would simply listen and definitely enjoy it.

  #

  “Gentlemen, we do not need everyone in here. Please, this is a hospital.” The doctor’s deep voice split the air. “Now get out while I examine the President.”

  “We can’t do that, Doctor?” A man’s voice returned.

  “Then stay, but please, shut up.”

  “Excuse me. Nurse, you may leave. My people will assist the doctor. Remove yourself now.”

  “Doctor Kelly, do you want me to leave?” the nurse said to the doctor.

  “No,” he replied.

  “Nurse, leave, or I’ll have you arrested. I am Mr. Kreider, I will take responsibility .”

  “What? You will not,” Dr. Kelly interrupted.

  “Nurse, go.”

  “Doctor… Mr. Jensen will be here momentarily with the medicine he needs. I was informed that Mr. President only wishes to rest here until the serum comes.”

  “I see. Well, let me look at him anyway. This is our job, you know.”

  “Doctor, I can’t allow that. His doctor is on the way.”

  “Then why did you bring him here if you don’t want us to treat him? He is a patient. It is my job to examine him. Look at how pale he is. He is barely breathing.”

  “Doctor, I am saying again. Don’t touch him!”

  “Then take this man from my hospital. I won’t have him die here, when I am forbidden to help. Take your grey suited mob with you also.” The doctor groused vehemently.

  Suddenly a different voice sweetly interrupted. “Please, Doctor, we don’t mean to usurp your authority. We merely are more familiar with our leader’s medical condition. I have his insulin here.”

  “He is diabetic then,” The doctor said. “That makes for an even stronger argument for me to attend to this patient.”

  “Sir, it is not exactly insulin. I use that term only to simulate the importance to this patient. It is experimental.”

  “You are using experimental drugs on the President of the United States! That is a terribly dangerous action.”

  “We know, Doctor. Sir, I am losing my patience. Gentlemen, remove the kind Doctor.”

  “What are you talking about?” The doctor was angry now. “Remove me from my own hospital? Get your hands off of me!” The doctor’s voice was suddenly muffled. Sam heard a brief struggle, then a sound of someone being dragged. The doctor?” Sam yanked at his bindings. He hoped that Kreider and his men didn’t realize there was a roommate behind the partition.

  “Where’s that ugly nurse?” A scratchy voice piped up

  “Mr. President, I told her to leave and to hold the press. She was very flustered,” the man laughed boisterously. “Oh, sorry, Sir. I should be more quiet.”

  Sam heard a door open and then Jensen’s voice. “Roll up the President’s sleeve or we may be too late. This is serious, men.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kreider, in his low voice, seemed to be the one answering.

  Sam heard a rustling and a groaning. Sam felt like he was holding his breath. He let it out slowly.

  “He’s coming out of it, Mr. Jensen, sir. His color is coming back.”

  “Good. Mr. President? Wilson? Do you hear me? It’s Silas. We’ve just given you your medicine. You forgot to take it this morning.”

  “I’m better.”

  Sam recognized the President’s smooth simpering voice. “Thank you, Silas. I knew you would fix me up.” Suddenly his personality changed and he fired out his words at machine-gun speed. “What does the media say? Are they talking sympathy? Am I up in the polls?”

  “Mr. President,” Silas returned coldly. “You may let go of my tie, so that I can answer your questions. Thank you. Yes, everyone is worried and your polls are up. They love you, Mr. President.”

  “Good, Men, I’m ready to leave. Call my security council. We need to plan the attack. Silas, where are my pills? I need my pills!” He screamed out.

  Sam could hear the bed being torn apart. A pillow fell against the partition. Sam prayed that it would continue standing. It did.

  “Your men stole them from me, Jensen. Give them back or I’ll have you killed.” The President’s voice had become shrill with panic.

  “Relax, Mr. President, you’re upset for no reason. Your pills are now in your pocket. See, I am putting them in, right now. Remember to take them. Now sit here and relax while we prepare for your departure.”

  “Jensen, you are my friend, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. In fact, I think we should move up our plans for the military. I think we should meet with our faithful congressmen and generals and discuss the infiltrations and the coup. Can you clear your schedule for next Monday, Mr. President? I don’t think we should fool with the elections at all. You are too good for the American people. You don’t need to subject yourself to their whims.”

  The President simpered proudly. “I believe you are correct. I’ll show them to not belittle and laugh at me. Move up our plans. I’ll arrange for the holiday, on your splendid yacht. Yes, I like that, I do.”

  A door opened. A different voice spoke. “Mr. Jensen, the halls are cleared of reporters. We can exit smoothly to the front lobby. Do you wish to talk with them there?

  and perhaps you would like to reassure them of your good health, Mr. President?”

  “I would like that,” said the President.

  A gaggle of footsteps then plodded out of the room.

  #

  Sam felt the perspiration beads roll down the sides of his face. That was too close, he thought, as he stretched his aching muscles as best he could. He hoped the nurse hadn’t totally forgotten him. He wondered nervously on how they had disposed of the doctor. The man meant well, he was only doing his job.

  One thing was sure. President Quint was psychotic from the drugs. What did the rest mean? Infiltrate who or what? Who else was involved? He didn’t like the sound of what he heard. The hornet’s nest was growing.

  #

  It seemed like hours, but he knew it had only been minutes. The little jittery nurse returned and popped her head from behind the screen. “That was frustrating but exciting. They’re gone. Did you hear anything juicy?”

  “No, just the usual pleasantries. Can you undo these straps now? I feel much better?” Sam smiled charmingly.

  “I don’t know. I should ask the doctor first, but I can’t find him.”

  “Please. I need to use the john, and I’m embarrassed.” Sam said sweetly. This ploy worked before, maybe it will work again, he thought.

  “Oh, I understand. Well, I guess it will be all right. If I help you down, do you need more help in the john? I need to also check the other patients. I’m the only one here right now. I hope the doctor comes back. I can’t take care of this place alone.” She ran out flustered, then darted back

  “Oh, your straps, yes. She unfastened them and helped him to his feet. “Can you walk?” She squinted at him with her eyes and her plump face crinkled in concern.

  Sam leaned on her briefly and slipped the keys from her pocket. He straightened and grinned. Thanks, Miss. I’ll be fine. You’re a wonderful nurse.”

  “Oh, thank you. I try hard. I’ll come back and check on you,” She smiled broadly and scurried out of the room.

  Sam waited only a second, then examined the waste container where the doctor had tossed the empty ampule he had used for Sam’s injection. Sam hoped he had found the right one. It looked correct. He peeked out the door and then slowly walked down the hall, eying each door’s name until he got to the pharmacy area. No one was there. He slipped among the shelves and found the correct ampule, then grabbed a couple of extras and some syringes. He hoped that they were the correct ones. He had the directions and info pamphlets also. T
hey would have to do. He grabbed some pills that seemed to have the same name, just in case.

  Sam was about to walk out when he thought of the poor nurse without her keys. He slipped back into his room and dropped the keys on the floor by the bed.

  Done. It sure was quiet here now.

  He made his way to the lobby and found Heather and Eddie curled up in the chairs facing each other. He knelt and tapped them quietly. Heather opened her lovely eyes, and then jumped up with a start.

  “Sam,” she yelped, “you’re here. Are you okay now?”

  “Sort of.” He nudged Eddie. “Eddie and Heather, let’s go. Don’t talk.”

  Eddie yawned and then scrambled up. Bewildered but obedient, he followed.

  They silently passed through the empty lobby, which had only a short time ago been a bubbling mass of reporters and presidential aides.

  The sun was now up. It looked like it would be a clear day, a good day for a new plan. Sam definitely needed a new plan.

  CHAPTER 30

  As Sam drove the endless roads back to the University, he realized nothing had really changed. He knew, however, that he wanted to drag no one else into it. He was taking the kids home. He then would find Jensen and destroy him and his plans. He had to learn the location of Jensen’s yacht first. Perhaps Elizabeth Martin could help him out there. Surely she had an investigative team behind her. Also, she might have changed her feelings about Sam’s story after encountering all the wrenches to her inquiries. And he desperately wanted to see Alex and Sarah one more time. He hoped Doctor Hernandez had found an antidote or cure for Sarah. He grew frightened at the thought that she might have died while he was gone. NO, he would have felt it, she was still alive. Could he even hope that a cure would be found for the President? That was probably too much positive thinking.