The Eyes Have No Soul

by Matthew W. Harrill

  “No, probably not. If it's tied in to what you've done here though I think I had better.”

  Terrick nodded.

  “In a word,” Tina said in hushed tones, “Harley. Well not him directly, but beat patrols who report to him and are well known for handing shall we say, his work. What's the last thing you remember?”

  “I don't know. It's impressions mostly. Like the whole world had turned to angles and you were all distorted. There were fireworks.”

  “Do you remember gunfire perhaps? There was a lot of that,” said Terrick. “They were neither as accurate nor as insistent as us. You had a few crazy moments there, kid. You were on another planet with whatever that guy put in you. I thought we were gonna lose you, girl.”

  Clare shuddered. Those eyes still watched her from inside her mind. “Trust me Terrick, you wouldn't want to be in my head. That's not an experience I would ever care to repeat.”

  “Does that mean you're done?” Tina seemed very intent on the question.

  “No. We didn't start all this and risk everything to give up at the last hurdle. We almost got that thing.”

  “And we almost lost you, sweetie.”

  “It's worth it. I'm gonna have to do it again if Viruñas…” Clare looked out into the ward again. “Wait, how long have I been here?” Fully awake now, she realized that she felt none of the symptoms. There weren't as many people in the ward as she had first assumed while drowsy. Clare began to panic.

  “Clare it's Sunday evening. You've been unconscious for just over eighteen hours.”

  “What?” Clare jerked upright, the drip catching on the rails along her bed and pulling tight against the skin of her hand. “Ow! Tina, you know what's at stake. Terrick, how could you let this happen?”

  The question was unfair, and Clare regretted it the second the words left her lips. “I'm sorry,” she added. “That was uncalled for.”

  “It was.” Terrick gave her a stern look, “but it's understandable, kid. Just don't make a habit of it. We've all gone through Hell for you and the story ain't over yet. There's worse to come. You nearly didn't make it.”

  “Well I'm here now. What's been done to me?”

  “Half a day of drips and gradual insulin administration,” Julian provided. “We almost have you stable.”

  Clare gave the doctor a flat stare. “Take it out.”

  Julian just looked at her for a moment, blinking. “I'm sorry?”

  “Julian, I'm asking you to take out the drip, before I rip it from the back of my hand. It can't end this way.”

  “Told you,” said Tina.

  Julian's eyes narrowed. “You know the insurance is covered by…”

  Clare began to tear at the bandage on the back of her hand, wincing in pain as the needle embedded in the vein was disturbed.

  Julian stepped in and immobilised her arm. “Clare, I've never known you to be crazy like this. You were always so sensible. What happened to you?”

  “I found belief in the strangest of places.”

  “You found religion?”

  Clare's gaze softened. “Julian, not all belief is religious. Let's say a new world has been revealed to me, one you might not be prepared to accept. I have one more task to do before I can get treatment for good and all. In order to do that I need to be untreated.” Clare looked to her arm, blood weeping around the edge of the pristine white bandage. “With your good intentions, it might already be too late but I have to try. Please Julian, remove the needle. Let me make my own decision here.”

  Clare's impassioned plea had the right effect. Julian nodded. “I'll need a moment and a smaller bandage from that cabinet over there.” He nodded in the direction of a set of narrow metal drawers by the door which Terrick began to explore, the shriek of metal on metal grating on Clare's ears.

  She took a deep breath. “It feels like I'm asking this question far too often but how long do I have before I end up back in here?”

  Julian loosened the bandage and withdrew the needle, causing Clare to wince in pain and squeamish discomfort as the blood that had welled underneath poured out. A quick dab with a sterile wipe and gauze and medical tape sealed the wound in. Julian held a gentle but firm finger over the back of her hand. “Hours? Clare, I clearly do not need to tell you that you aren't well but I cannot compel you to remain here. You are not rehydrated. You have insulin in your system, both administered here and what is remaining from your pancreas as your own body destroys the beta cells that provide it. Yet that will not be enough to sustain you for long. Take a look at yourself in a mirror. You're an old woman in a young woman's body, frail, weak. I implore you to see reason.”

  “Not until I see this monster captured, or dead.” Clare swung her legs out of the bed, preparing to stand.

  “What monster?” Julian asked, looking at Tina and Terrick rather than at her.

  Clare stood; her legs were weak and the floor was ice-cold, but standing was manageable. All she had left to lose was her life. Terrick knew the truth, and the look of horror in Tina's eyes showed she had at least some faith. “It's a creature out of legend.” Clare pointed at the barely-healed scars on her own arms. “This is how it gets you. We found marks on every victim. If we don't stop it, we lose it. I will die to catch it if necessary. That is the extent of my faith.”

  Clare had hoped to baffle or shock Julian into some sort of understanding but instead he stared at her, as if she had just confirmed already-known facts for him.

  “You've seen it,” she accused. “Julian, what's going on? What do you know?”

  “I told you we weren't lyin',” Terrick said to the doctor. “You wanted to hear from the girl confirmin' what we were sayin' and now you have it right there.”

  “It can't be true,” Julian said, baffled.

  “And yet she's livin' proof of the thing,” the sheriff argued. “This was supposed to be the sanctuary, and instead it's a honeypot.”

  “Sanctuary? Honeypot?” Clare was equally worried and baffled. “What's happened?”

  Julian rubbed his right hand over his forehead. “There was an incident. Clare, I have to show you something you might not be in a state to witness. We have no choice. Come with…”

  “No,” Clare gasped, “not now.”

  The three other occupants of her room turned to follow her stare. Outside Andrew Harley stood in the main ward.

  Chapter Thirty

  Clare felt her legs give way.

  Terrick caught her before she collapsed, sitting her on the bed. He turned his back to the scene behind him, blocking her from view of the window.

  “Let me see,” she hissed, grabbing his top for balance and leaning to one side.

  “Steady, girl,” Terrick cautioned. “Not too far. It's one way glass but you make a lot of noise and he'll get suspicious.”

  The scene outside unfolded very publicly. Three of Harley's men waited behind him, all intent upon the man blocking their way.

  Tina grabbed Clare's arm, pulling her back.

  “What do you think will happen if they spot you?”

  “I don't care. He's the one that did all this to me. Arrest him. Test him. Blood tells all.”

  “Can you positively identify him from the other night, sweetie?”

  “No but…”

  “Did you witness him kill any one of the children you believe him to have murdered?”

  “I can't. But I…”

  “Then we have no grounds for an arrest.”

  Clare stopped struggling and fixed her friend with a stare. “If you weren't a federal fugitive it would be a lot less complicated. Clare, he knows you're in here. Listen to him.”

  “I'll deal with this,” Julian decided, slipping out the door behind Harley's goons.

  Outside Harley's voice had raised as he shouted at the other medic. “Doctor, where is she? This is a federal matter and as such my jurisdiction takes precedence.”

  “What appears to be the problem here, Captain?” Julian said, assuming an authorit
ative manner. He was taller than Harley and stared him down.

  “Julian Strange,” Harley turned at the voice, his subordinates forming a loose circle around him. “Always popping up where you're least wanted. You're harbouring a fugitive. Hand her over.”

  Julian feigned innocence. “I've seen a lot of sick people in here, Captain. Whether one of them is a fugitive isn't my concern. Treating them is.”

  “You're holding Clare Rosser and she's coming with me,” Harley growled.

  Julian flipped open a folder he carried, scanning down the names. “You must be mistaken, Andrew, to believe you have any rights in this place.”

  Harley attempted to push past him, reaching for the door. Julian held up a hand to the captain's chest, preventing him from taking a step. ”In this hospital, in my ward, my duty of care to the patients is the ultimate priority. You can attempt to intimidate anybody you like but you have no say on the fate of one of my patients until they are in a state to leave this ward. When she is in a fit state of health, if she even recovers, then you can interrogate to your heart's content. Until that moment you will desist attempting to bully the staff of this department. Do I make myself clear?”

  In a moment of great personal satisfaction for Clare, Harley was lost for words. He stared up at the taller man; Julian stared back, unafraid. Two men used to getting their way. This was nothing other than a home win.

  “I'll be returning with a warrant,” Harley threatened.

  Julian leaned over. “I don't threaten easily. Get your court order. The most that can happen is the release of information. Patients. Come. First.” He continued to face down the bulk of the captain, who backed away seconds later through his men. Clare jumped when Harley punched the window behind which she was shielded on his way out. After a few moments, Julian came back in.

  “Thank you,” she said, for the first time in her life feeling genuinely grateful towards him.

  “I meant every word I said,” Julian admitted. “You're sick. That being said, I only came because the hospital called requesting cover. I have a feeling we won't be seeing the last of Andrew Harley today. There's people in here far worse than you.”

  Clare noted the glances passing amongst her companions. “Okay spill, you guys. What else have I missed?”

  The private room across the hallway was dim, lights turned down. The young lady within was unconscious, which was a mercy. Dripping with sweat that soaked into the sheets of the bed, her bloated body fought to stay alive with a dogged tenacity that belied natural order. Her stomach was swollen to the size of a heavily pregnant woman, veins sticking out all over the surface as they tried to cope with containing an invasive force. Her hands and feet were also swollen through excessive fluid retention. It was no wonder the bodies were so twisted and agonised when the creature had finished with them. She should have been dead.

  “When did you find her?” Clare watched with the rest of them from an adjoining observation room. They all spoke in hushed tones for the girl's survival was balanced on a knife-edge. Any upsetting of the equilibrium might kill her.

  “She was among the first brought in,” Terrick said in low tones, “wastin' away and sponge-dry. They diagnosed her with a simple finger prick test but anybody could've seen what was happenin' to her. She was put on a drip and left in this room. Shortly after the floodgates opened and people started turnin' up left right and centre. She must've gone wanderin'. As it was a nurse was checkin' for free space and found her like this on the floor, a man leanin' over her in a room, hands on her arms. She disturbed him and he fled.”

  Those eyes; Clare shuddered at the memory. “What… what did he look like?”

  Terrick pulled out a notebook and flicked through some pages. “The nurse's words were 'emaciated, almost skeletal with glowing, white eyes'. Everyone laughed it off but she was insistent. Sound like your guy?”

  “It does.” Despite the warmth of the room, a chill passed over Clare. “Where'd he go?”

  “Straight out that window, once the alarm was raised.”

  “That's got to be a two-story drop. Who found the body?”

  Tina laid a hand on Clare's shoulder. “I'm sorry, Clare. No body was found.”

  Clare grinned, taking Tina aback.

  “Not the reaction I'd have expected.”

  “Don't you see? He can't be far away. Viruñas feeds by killing his victim through fluid injection, overloading the heart, and then sucking the goodness out. You ever tried sucking on a piece of fresh sugar cane? Try filling it with so much fluid it bursts. It's much the same. This poor girl's heart should have given out but it hasn't.”

  Julian appeared animated at this. “The application of such a natural process in medicine could be incredible. Imagine a fluid injected directly into a body that…”

  “You ain't thinkin' about exploitin' this I hope, doc,” Terrick growled. “Look at her. Poor girl did nothin' but get ill and now she's a human water balloon. Maybe ask her about that once…if she recovers.”

  “The creature can't be far away,” Clare surmised. “He needs to feed. Think about it. He was feeding and it's his Achilles' heel. He forces the fluid from his body into another. They die from hypervolemia. He has no fluid left to give. It's all in her. He's gonna need a quick score or he dies.”

  “You think?” Tina appeared sceptical. “You've been hell-bent on blaming that janitor for all of the world's ills and he looked fine to me.”

  “There's more,” said Julian. “I took samples of her blood after we found her. The plasma's flooded with mescaline. I administered diluted insulin to the sample to see if there would be any adverse effects to the girl. The sample disintegrated.”

  “You mean the insulin did its work?” Clare asked.

  “No. Everything in the blood was destroyed. Platelets, blood cells. They all just collapsed. We can't treat her until her body stabilizes and is clear of the creature's fluid. There's an unknown element that reacts to the insulin.”

  “I need to get out there,” Clare said. “You all supported me this far. I need a little bit more from all of you. We need to set a trap. It was my plan to be the bait for the creature in St Vincent's and we almost had him. We have a trough overfilling with goodness in here but he's not getting back in to feed without exposing his true nature.”

  “What do you need?” Tina asked. By the look of exasperation on her face, the detective's patience was wearing thin.

  “When a school of fish are threatened, they form up into a ball to try and confuse ocean predators. That's what we have here. A bait ball; we need to separate individuals from that ball in order for the predators to hunt. I need to be that lone fish. I need to get out of here. He has my scent now. If I can place myself in his way we can draw him out. If I'm right, and Juan Menzes is Viruñas, I need to find him and confront him. If I'm lucky, all you need to do is bear witness. You have to let me after him.”

  “Where do you need to go to now?”

  Clare smiled. “Take me to the precinct. There's something weird going on. I need your help to work out what.”

  “Girl,” said Terrick, “if you die and go to heaven, on your tombstone I'm carvin' the words 'There's somethin' weird goin' on'. There's been somethin' damned weird goin' on since I met you a week back.”

  “I must protest Clare,” said Julian. “If the complete course of medicine isn't administered, the hyperglycaemia and ketoacidosis will become life threatening in hours.”

  “Then that's how long we have to find it. Terrick, I need you to remain here and stay vigilant. You might argue but I need somebody I trust to watch over these people. They've done nothing beyond get ill. That's the real kicker here. Type-one diabetes is an attack by your own body. There's no warning, no cure.” Clare thought for a moment. It all became so clear. “No cure… Julian, can you get me insulin?”

  The doctor's face lit up with approval. “That was a quick change of heart.”

  “It's not for me. If I can get close enough to the creature I'm
gonna stab it. This being hunts diabetics. Why? It can't ingest sugar through normal means so it needs to feed on the sugar in their blood. Manufactured insulin will affect it severely. That's why it only goes after the undiagnosed. Those on the road to recovery will poison it.”

  Terrick didn't appear convinced. “Why don't you just take a gun and fill it with holes?”

  Clare brushed the loose hair back over her right ear. Several strands came loose, sticking to her fingers. Her body was in mild shock; the hair was always the first thing to go. She ran her right hand over the wound on her left arm, wincing as she did so. “This is payback. I'm gonna kill it.”

  Back in her room, Clare found a brown envelope waiting on her bed. “What's this?” She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. On the back were written the words 'keep digging'.

  “Okay who did this?”

  Terrick shrugged. “We were all with you, girl. If you got a guardian angel, it's comin' from a different place than us. Open it up.”

  Clare did so, emptying the contents onto her bed. A series of colour photographs fell out, spreading out on the sheets. Each showed the janitor washing blood off of his hands.”

  “Where's he doing that?” Tina picked up one of the photos, taking it into the light to examine.

  Clare didn't need to look. The dim lighting, the brick walls, the cleaning equipment behind him all led to one conclusion. “It's his lair under the precinct. I've been there once before.”

  “That's a lot of blood,” Terrick observed. “Looks like he's been visitin' a slaughterhouse.”

  “Keep digging,” Clare mused. “I wonder what they mean. There was nothing else there when I went looking before.”

  “Look at that wall, it doesn't line up with the window.” Terrick pointed at one side of the photo. He was right. The brickwork disappeared behind the wall.

  “I never noticed,” Clare admitted.

  “It's easy to miss. It's been done very well. I daresay that a janitor didn't do that without help. He does appear to have connections.”

  “Then I'm definitely going there next,” Clare decided.