by Kathryn Hoff
“Do you need help getting out of the suit too?”
“I can do the decon process myself.” She started to unfasten the seals.
Westerly folded her arms and looked down on me. “You understand the importance of these procedures?”
“Yes, ma’am. Paula’s depending on me to protect her from strain seven.”
“No need to scare her, June,” Paula said, placing the helmet on the shelf. “She’ll do fine.”
Westerly harrumphed. “Well, she does have one advantage over the rest of us.”
“I do?”
She pointed to the E-3 tat on the back of my wrist. “The indications from places where strain seven has emerged suggest that survivors of the third strain have greater natural immunity.”
She tilted her head down to give me her cobra stare over her reading glasses. “That means you would likely survive an accidental exposure to strain seven, even without the phage therapy. Paula might not.”
Small comfort. I hoped to hell neither one of us would have to take that chance.
Before breakfast the next morning, I headed to the primate lab to take Barney to the dog run. I’d scored an apple for a post-Christmas treat for Molly, one of the last ones I’d be able to give her before she moved to the red zone, and taken an extra for myself.
Juggling the food in one hand, I unlocked the primate lab door.
Barney was just inside the door. He nuzzled my hand and wandered happily into the hallway.
“Barney, how’d you get out?” My mind was still on Molly and whether she’d get through strain seven.
Then it clicked. If Barney was out of the cage, where was Molly?
Holy crap. She was right in front of me, leaning on her knuckles not three strides away, staring at me—and free.
Eeeek! Molly shrieked. She ran straight for me—a hairy, black ton of trouble.
I ducked—chimp teeth are meant for fighting.
Oof! Hard knuckles and a long-fingered foot hit my back as Molly used me for a step-stone. Her weight—not much less than mine—flattened me.
Then she was out in the hall.
I scrambled to the desk, dodging overturned chairs and smashed glassware. I hit the intercom button. “Emergency! Help! Molly’s out. She’s in the building—I need help!”
Feces, both chimp and canine, smeared the floor. Some had even hit the wall. There was blood, too, where ape feet had trod on broken glass. The computer console was on the floor, and most of the boxes of supplies. Molly must have tossed out of the way everything between her and the biscuit box on the shelf.
What to do? What to do?
Biscuits. The monkey biscuit box was in a corner, ripped apart, but there was an intact box on the floor. I grabbed it and the red-ball-on-a-stick target. What else would lure her? Her bedraggled pink and blue blanket lay forgotten in her cage. The cage door gaped open, the padlock on the floor, key still in it. How could that happen? I never left the key in the lock—did I?
Sergeant Stonehouse was on the intercom telling everyone to shelter in place and lock the doors.
To hell with that.
Gingerly, I stepped to the hall door and peeked out. Molly was three doors down the hall, leaning on the knuckles of one hand, curiously examining a dark window.
My pulse thumped—nothing but air between me and a full-grown chimp with a bad attitude. I’d never even seen a chimp without bars between us. Barney ranged over the hall, sniffing excitedly.
Part of me wanted to shut myself in the primate lab and wait for the soldiers, but the soldiers’ solution would end with Molly dead. And if they bungled it, Molly’s last days would be spent roaming the neighborhood, freezing, terrified, and hungry, until somebody shot her.
“Molly? Target, Molly.” I rattled the biscuit box to cover the shaking in my voice. “Biscuits, Molly. Target.”
Molly turned toward me and peered from under her dark brow. I opened the primate lab door wide and propped it open. I held the target stick up high.
I hoped her eyesight was good.
She didn’t run away, anyway.
“Barney!” I called. Maybe he would be more obedient. “Here, Barney.” I rattled the biscuit box again.
With a happy little woof, Barney trotted toward me, tail wagging. “Good boy. Here’s a biscuit for you.”
That caught Molly’s attention. Nothing like competition to inspire action.
She took a tentative step toward me.
“Jackie!” Quinn shouted. “What did you do?”
Molly shrieked and ran straight for me.
Quinn pounded down the hall from the cafeteria, a gray-uniformed soldier right behind him. It was big Jerry—and he had a pistol in his hand.
I dropped and plastered myself to the floor. Molly didn’t pause, but went right past me—not into the primate lab, but down the abutting hallway.
Quinn grabbed my arm as I got to my knees.
“You’re done here,” he said. “What the hell were you doing?”
“Shut up!” I hissed. “You’re scaring her.”
Molly was halfway down the hall, momentarily stymied by the fire doors to the courtyard passage. Barney was between us, torn between Molly’s wonderful new game and my biscuits.
All Molly had to do was push the bar on the fire door and she’d be off again, into the courtyard and the passage to the old playing fields. Even with razor wire at the top, a three-meter fence wouldn’t be enough to stop a determined chimp.
The soldier, white-faced and eyes like saucers, raised his pistol to shoulder height. “I’ve got a bead on it, sir. Should I shoot?”
“No, you damn fool! Put that gun away.” Quinn ducked into the primate lab and came out with a syringe and the jab stick.
“Jackie.” Paula stood quietly at the stairs from the upper levels. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. “Close the doors.”
Paula came forward, making no noise, and closed the doors to block off the stairs. “Avery,” she said calmly. “Molly’s afraid of you. Let me handle it.”
Quinn reluctantly handed her the jab stick and pulled the soldier away. “Stand by and stay quiet,” he ordered.
“She’ll follow Barney,” I whispered.
Paula nodded. “Call him and go into the lab. If you’re in danger, go into the cage and shut the door.”
I rattled the biscuit box. “Here, Barney! Biscuits!”
Barney trotted forward with a silly dog-grin. What a great day he was having! New games and lots of biscuits!
I gave him a biscuit with a loud, “Good boy!”
He followed me into the lab. I led him into Molly’s cage, looped his leash onto a cage bar and clipped the leash onto Barney’s collar to keep him inside. I left the cage door wide open. However bad it might be, the cage was home for Molly.
Would biscuits and a wish to join Barney be enough to lure her back into the primate lab, and ten paces more into the cage?
Through the open lab door, I saw Paula, standing two strides outside the primate lab. She’d adopted a posture a chimp would read as approachable and non-threatening: head bent, eyes to the floor, body relaxed and turned in a neutral direction. She made soft, panting hoo hoo hoo calls. The dart was hidden behind her back.
“Barney’s secure,” I called softly.
Paula’s reply was just as soft, “Understood.” She didn’t move or look up.
Molly must be near.
I placed Molly’s bedraggled blanket on the lab floor and tossed some biscuits on it—Molly would see it once she got closer. I put the target into the cage with another handful of biscuits.
Stepping to the side of the cage, I swung the open door to be between me and Molly. Then I backed up and rattled the biscuit box.
“Target, Molly! Biscuits.”
In the lab’s open doorway, a black furry hand tentatively extended, knuckles down. Another hand reached for a biscuit.
Paula was a statue. Molly peeked in the door, then warily looked over her shou
lder. I turned away from Molly, head low, eyes averted in an attitude of ape submission. No threat here, Molly. Just little old Jackie, keeper of delicious treats.
Still uneasy, Molly sat on her beloved blanket, devouring biscuits and keeping an eye on the unpredictable humans.
“Target, Molly,” I called.
Molly leaned forward on her knuckles, searching for the target and more biscuits. Ever so slowly, Paula leaned toward her.
I rattled the box, just a little.
Paula jabbed.
Grrraaurgh! Molly’s cry began as a roar and ended with a shriek. She stood at her full height on bowed legs, pounded her chest and screamed out her rage, all her massive teeth on display.
Molly charged. I dropped to the floor, arms over my head, knees drawn up to protect my belly. Bang! The cage door slammed into my butt. Bang! Bang! Eeek! Eeeek! Hairy fists pummeled my back. With each screech, hot biscuit-breath wafted over me. Teeth raked my back and tore at my jumpsuit. Barney barked wildly.
Paula didn’t shout, she just called, “Molly, Molly, Molly,” over and over.
The pummeling slowed and stopped. A furred hand lay limp on my back. I stayed where I was.
Molly whimpered, then her heavy, smelly, hairy body fell on top of me.
“Jackie, honey, you all right?” Paula’s voice was close.
“Yeah, I think so.” I started to wriggle.
“No, stay where you are until we move Molly. Avery, bring the blanket.”
“You damned little idiot!” Quinn’s voice dripped with hate. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Paula snapped, “Shut up, Avery. Get Molly secure first. Sergeant Stonehouse, can you help?”
Stonehouse and Jerry helped Paula and Quinn roll Molly onto the blanket and heft her into the cage. I uncurled enough to sit against the wall. My ribs hurt and I was shaking.
“Are you hurt, Miss Jackie?” the sergeant drawled.
I wiggled my hands and feet. “No broken bones.”
“Well, miss, I call that a right neat bit of wildlife wrangling.”
Paula’s face was rigid. “You have bites on your back. You’ll need medical care.”
A deep voice asked, “How bad is it?” Westerly blocked the door like a white mountain.
Paula asked, “June, can you take a look at these cuts on Molly’s paw while she’s out?”
“Not as bad as it might have been,” Quinn said. “The chimp is still alive, no thanks to Paula’s little delinquent. Rico, start cleaning up this mess. Some of Stonehouse’s boys can help.”
“I didn’t do it,” I said.
“Exhibit A,” Quinn sneered. He held up the lock, the key still in it. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, not getting enough attention? Or just couldn’t be bothered to do your job?”
“Avery—”
“I want her out, Paula. Today!” He stormed out.
CHAPTER 16
Mischief and sabotage
Westerly’s lab looked like a doctor’s office, if your doctor did a side business in torture. I perched on an exam table, surrounded by trays of knives and saws, ready for dissection. Westerly peered at me over her reading glasses, emitting disapproval like a skunk gives off stink.
“Remain still, young lady,” she ordered. I flinched as she applied something that stung—a lot—to my back where Molly’s teeth had raked my skin. I was lucky—the bite wasn’t deep and the only other damage I’d suffered was a bunch of bruises.
“It wasn’t me,” I said again. “I did not leave the key in the lock.”
“You could have been badly hurt.” Paula kept her hand on my shoulder, even though I wasn’t shaking as much anymore.
“I know! I’m always careful, Paula. You know I am.”
“Accidents happen,” Westerly said. “And sometimes young people are careless. We were wrong to place so much responsibility on you. No matter. Your assistance will no longer be required. I’ll arrange for you to be accommodated at an orphan facility.”
Teen home. Crap.
As Westerly jabbed a rabies vaccination into my arm, my eyes stung, but this was no time for blubbering. Or hitting.
I took a deep breath and fought down panic. “Dr. Westerly, I can prove I didn’t leave the key in the lock. The only time I ever open the main cage door is for cleaning in the morning. After cleaning, I lock the main cage door and then I have to use the same key to unlock the hatch between the main cage and the shift cage. Even if I forgot to hang the key on the wall, which I didn’t, the key would be in the hatch lock, not the main door lock. And I spent hours in the primate lab yesterday afternoon and did a whole training session with the white suit on, and I would have seen the key in the lock. And anyway, procedure says to check all the locks before leaving the room for the night, and I did!”
I took a breath. “Besides, Molly can’t reach the lock. Even if somebody left the key in the lock, she can’t get her fingers around it to turn the key.”
I stopped as what I had just said sunk in.
Westerly frowned. Paula twitched a little smile as she squeezed my shoulder. “June, Jackie is speaking accurately. The metal housing around the cage latch is designed to prevent just that sort of mishap. Even if a key were inadvertently left in one of the padlocks…indeed, even if a lock were left hanging open, Molly’s fingers and toes are not long enough to grasp the lock and remove it from the door.”
Westerly fixed her beady eyes on me. “Then the door must have been opened deliberately.”
My jaw dropped. “Not me!” I crossed my heart like a witless six-year-old. “I would never…I know what happens when an animal gets out.”
“What happens?” Westerly pinned me with her cobra stare.
“Sometimes they get killed.” I felt my lip trembling and clamped my teeth down on it. “Molly might have been killed.”
The cobra wasn’t ready to let go. “If not you, then who?”
“I don’t know.”
Westerly stared at me a few seconds longer, then nodded to Paula. “In that case, we have a problem.”
“Here.” Paula handed me a clean jumpsuit. “Go to your room and rest. You’re off duty until tomorrow—you’re going to be pretty sore. If anyone asks what happened, say you don’t know.”
“But everyone will think I did it!”
“It’s all right to keep saying you didn’t leave the cage unlocked, but don’t say anything else and don’t make any accusations. June and I will talk to Avery.”
“What about Molly? I never got a chance to clean her cage, and the lab is a mess.”
“Go rest. We’ll deal with that.” She winked at me. “Do some schoolwork. And Jackie,” Paula looked defiantly at Westerly before turning back to me. “You did very well this morning. You kept your head, called for help, and used your knowledge of Molly’s behavior to help get her under control. Maybe nobody else will say it, but I’m telling you: good job.”
I shut the door behind me and walked five steps away before tiptoeing back.
Westerly’s voice was a deep rumble. “Do you believe her?”
“Yes. She’s not careless. She lets her temper get the better of her occasionally, but she would never deliberately put an animal at risk.”
“Hmm. Especially when the blame would likely fall on her. Very well. Deliberate sabotage? Or simply malicious mischief?”
“I suppose it must be one or the other,” Paula mused. “In either case…”
Quinn burst out of the stairwell, headed for his office. He glared at me as I shuffled quietly away.
I was on my bed juggling ice packs when Chubb and Reyna came in, babies on their hips.
“Jeez,” Chubb said, “you’ll do anything to get out of changing diapers.”
“I’d rather change a thousand diapers than have an angry chimp jump on me.” I shifted an ice pack onto my shoulder. I had one on my butt and one on my ribs already. Paula wasn’t kidding about being sore.
Reyna sat at the foot of my bed and bounced Deedee o
n her knees, making her colorful earrings jiggle. “Rico says you forgot to lock the cage.”
“Or you were stupid enough to think you could play with her,” Chubb said.
Thanks, Rico. I gave Chubb the gorilla stare. “Is that what you think? I’m not that careless or that dense.” Chubb just stared back.
Reyna looked sideways at me. “Maybe you wanna be a hero. Be the one to capture her.”
It was bad enough that Quinn thought I was a hopeless screwup, but these two were the closest thing I had to friends. “I’m not so brainless. Have you seen Molly? She weighs as much as you do, and she’s got teeth like a tiger.”
“Huh,” Chubb scoffed. “Then who are you going to blame this on? The janitor? Me? How about Gabe? Maybe he crawled down there during the night and planned an escape with Molly.” He tickled Gabe. “Is that it, little monkey-boy? You and Molly planning a breakout?”
But when Chubb faced me, he wasn’t smiling.
My eyes stung. “Believe whatever you want. I didn’t do it. Why would I? Me and Paula are the only ones who like Molly.”
I looked up at them. “You know, this isn’t the only odd thing that’s happened around here.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “Something spoiled some samples in Quinn’s lab, sometime before Rico got here.”
“That was before we were hired,” Reyna said. “Probably just some screwup.”
I held up another finger. “Somebody trashed Westerly’s office.”
Chubb nodded. “That was late in October. They covered it up. Said some soldier misunderstood something and knocked some equipment over and tried to clean it up, but Mendez said it was a deliberate search for something.” He grinned. “I just happened to be passing room 213 when they were discussing it.”
I held up a third finger. “Wasn’t there a fire recently?”
Chubb grunted. “In the men’s room, before Thanksgiving. I think Rico was smoking a joint.”
Reyna snorted. “Bull. Where would Rico get a joint? Or even a cigarette, for that matter?” She sat on the side of my bed, letting Deedee crawl over the blanket.
“From Quinn.” Chubb plopped down on my other side, holding onto Gabe’s ankle so he wouldn’t go over the edge of the bed. “Quinn smokes when he thinks nobody’s looking, out in the courtyard at night.”