The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 1: Books 1 - 3 (Sick, Exit 9, & Pale Horse)

by Brett Battles

  Sanjay sprinted around the building, looking for an alternate entrance. Everything was locked. Frustrated, he scanned the building again, looking for any possibility, and spotted one. At the back of the building, one floor above ground level, was a wide terrace. If he could get up there, it might lead to another way in.

  Using a large bush and the rough surface of the building itself, he climbed the wall, and was soon high enough to pull himself onto the terrace.

  The space was not part of an apartment like the balconies on the floors above, but rather an extension of a restaurant that had apparently just closed for the night. While there were no customers around, there were still a few employees inside cleaning up.

  Sanjay waited until they had stepped into another room—the kitchen perhaps—then entered through the back door and cut across the dining area. There was another door at the far end that led to the interior of the building, a lobby with access to a staircase and elevator.

  Sanjay chose the staircase and raced down to the ground floor. He took a moment to get his bearings, and tried to find the entrance he’d seen Mr. Dettling go through. He finally discovered it through a narrow hallway that seemed to be used by the people who took care of the building. It snaked around the elevator shaft, and around to the front of the building where the door was.

  But all it really told him was that Mr. Dettling could have used it to get to the lobby and then taken the elevator to any floor. Sanjay headed back toward the lobby, thinking he might be able to figure out which floor the man had been on when he came back down, only he didn’t make it all the way. There was a door he had missed when he came through the first time. It was on the same side as the elevator shaft. Sanjay turned the knob and the door opened.

  Just inside, stairs led down to a basement level. If there hadn’t been a light on at the bottom, he would have closed the door and moved on, but there was, so he knew he had to check.

  Quietly, he descended the concrete steps into a long corridor that ran off to the left and right. He listened, not knowing which way to go.

  Voices. Faint, and…from the right.

  He went toward them, making his way past several doors until he reached the one where he could hear two distinct voices behind. Like at the managers’ office, they were speaking a language he didn’t understand. The door had two different locks. He carefully tried the knob, but it didn’t budge.

  Sanjay was trying to figure out how he was going to get on the other side when one of the voices—Mr. Dettling’s, he realized—suddenly increased in volume.

  Sanjay knew he’d never make it to the stairs in time. There was, however, a doorless entryway only ten feet back that opened onto a dark room.

  He ducked inside, and had just moved into the shadows when the locks on the other door turned, and Mr. Dettling and a second person entered the main hallway. As they passed his hiding place, he tensed, sure he would be discovered, but the two walked by without stopping. When they reached the staircase, Mr. Dettling continued to talk for several minutes, then the other person said something. A woman’s voice.

  Sanjay peeked out, and saw that the woman had her back to him. Mr. Dettling was completely out of sight on the staircase. If Sanjay wanted to see what was on the other side of the locked doors, this was his only chance.

  He moved into the hallway and crept quickly to the door with the locks. Behind him it sounded like the conversation was ending. He put his hand on the knob, hoping they hadn’t locked it again when they exited. It turned. He pushed it open, slipped inside, and closed it again.

  He was in a short hallway. There were three doors that led off it. Out of the farthest one, he could hear a low, rhythmic beeping noise. Not just one pattern, he realized, but several, at slightly different speeds.

  In the hallway behind him, he could hear footsteps approaching the door. Having little choice, he stepped over to the nearest room and opened the door. It was dark inside so he went in, but left the door open just a crack so he could keep an eye on the woman when she walked by.

  He heard the outer door swing open and shut. Locks were turned, then the woman’s footsteps passed his doorway and continued down the hall. He watched her through the crack. Not surprisingly, she entered the room the noise had been coming from. What did surprise him was that she was wearing a nurse’s outfit.

  As soon as she disappeared, he reentered the hallway and followed her. When he reached the doorway the noise was coming from, he paused at the jamb and leaned forward just enough to get a look inside.

  It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. There seemed to be a plastic wall about a third of the way into the room, cutting the space into two. On the larger, enclosed side were five beds—hospital beds—each occupied.

  No longer thinking about being seen or not, he stepped inside so he could get a better look. Yes, definitely hospital beds, and the beeping was coming from equipment set up next to each of the patients.

  Though they all had tubes taped across their faces and looked in pretty bad shape, Sanjay recognized them. He’d seen four of them on and off around the Pishon Chem compound. The fifth he’d seen almost every day of his life.

  Ayush.

  “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

  The sound of the voice knocked him out of his trance, and for the first time he looked at the front half of the room. There was more medical equipment here, most set up on tables that lined the plastic wall. There were also several chairs, two of which had been occupied until a moment before by female nurses. Both women were now on their feet.

  “What’s wrong with them?” he demanded. “What have you done to them?”

  “You can’t be here,” the closest nurse said. “These people are very sick. You need to leave.”

  He looked at her, still trying to comprehend the situation. “Sick? How? From what?”

  The other nurse grabbed something off a back table, and seemed to be fiddling with it.

  “You need to get out now!” the first said.

  Sanjay pointed at the plastic wall. “That’s my cousin! What’s wrong with him?”

  His words seemed to startle the women. They looked at each other, and back at him.

  “Where did you come from?” the second nurse asked.

  “What do you mean, where did I come from?”

  “How did you know to come here?” the first asked.

  “I saw Mr. Dettling. He was down here a few minutes ago.”

  “You know Mr.—” The first nurse paused. “You work on the Project?”

  “Of course.” He pointed at his cousin again. “Ayush and I both do, and so do the others you have there. What happened to them?”

  The second nurse had moved closer now. Whatever she’d grabbed earlier was out of sight behind her. “They’re very sick,” she said. “You shouldn’t have come here. You’ve probably made yourself sick, too.”

  “How can my cousin be sick? He was fine yesterday. No problems at all.”

  “I’m sorry,” the first nurse said. “Sometimes it just happens quickly.”

  As he looked at her to ask, “What happens quickly?” the other nurse stepped toward him, her hand moving out from around her back.

  He turned just as she was bringing her hand forward. In it was a syringe. He twisted to the side and thrust out his hand to push her away. She fell back into the table, her ribs smashing against the edge, and the wind rushed out of her lungs. With a groan, she fell to the ground and gasped for air.

  The other nurse stared at Sanjay for a moment, then tried to run past him for the door, but he blocked her way. As she retreated, he reached down and picked up the syringe that had fallen from her friend’s hand.

  “What’s in this?” he asked.

  The nurse shook her head.

  “Tell me! What did she try to give me?”

  The nurse refused to answer.

  He stepped quickly forward, grabbed her arm, and moved the needle toward it.

  “No!” the wom
an shouted.

  “What is it?”

  “Something that would put you to sleep. But that much…”

  “This much what?”

  “Would…kill you.”

  His eyes widened. He looked at the woman writhing on the floor. She had tried to kill him. Why?

  He turned back to the other one. “What’s going on here? What are you trying to hide?”

  It looked like she wasn’t going to answer again, so he moved the needle toward her arm once more.

  “Tell me!”

  “It’s not going to help you if I do. You’re going to die anyway.”

  “Why do you say that? Why would I die?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at the five prone figures in the other part of the room, then locked eyes with Sanjay. “They have Sage Flu.”

  At first he didn’t understand what she meant, but then it hit him. Sage Flu. Earlier in the year there’d been an outbreak in America. But it had stopped, hadn’t it? No more illnesses reported? He was sure he’d heard that on the news.

  “How can it be here?” he asked, the needle still hovering near her skin.

  She hesitated, her gaze nervously flicking down to the syringe.

  He touched the tip to her arm, breaking the surface. “Tell me!”

  “The spray.”

  He shook his head for a second, not following. “The mosquito spray?”

  She nodded. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What is it?”

  She looked over her shoulder at Ayush, then back at Sanjay, her meaning clear.

  “No,” he said. “No. That can’t be true.”

  “Believe what you want. By this time next week, you’ll be dead.”

  “No. No!”

  “If you let me go, I’ll…I’ll give you the vaccine.”

  He squeezed her arm. “Have you given it to my cousin?”

  “It’s too late for him.”

  “You’re lying. It’s not too late. You can save him.”

  “Once the virus took hold, nothing could save him. You haven’t been exposed yet. You could still live.”

  He barely heard the last part, his mind reeling from the idea that his cousin was as good as dead.

  “I can save you,” she said. “But only if you let me go!”

  “I’ll…I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them what’s going on.”

  “Try it, and you’ll be in a jail cell when the sickness finds you. No one will listen to you.”

  She was right. He was a poor man from a line of poor men. His word against that of a group of Europeans “helping to rid India of malaria”? He would be thrown in jail.

  He almost let her go right then, but he realized there was something he could do. Something he had to do.

  “How do I know you’re not lying about the vaccine?”

  “There’s no way you can know.”

  He thought for a moment. “You’ll take it first.”

  “Okay, but I’m already vaccinated.”

  “I don’t care. I just want to see if it kills you.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  “Where is it?”

  Twenty-Five

  I.D. MINUS 51 HOURS

  IT WAS AMAZING what the right set of credentials could do. Authentic or not, if they looked good, they were good, and the Centers for Disease Control credentials Billy was carrying looked great.

  After donning a protective suit, he was allowed entry into the now isolated Emergency Care area of Hawkins Hospital. There, he first interviewed Dr. Hayward and Nurse Batista, the people who had been caring for Corey Wilson, patient zero of the current outbreak. There was nothing new the two professionals could give him that he hadn’t learned after a quick perusal of the patient’s file, but if he’d really been from the CDC, they would have been the first people he talked to, so he had to keep up appearances.

  Next, he was taken into the patient’s room, but it was clear he would get nothing out of the boy. From the condition he was in, Billy was sure Corey wouldn’t last more than a few hours, a day at most. This, of course, he kept to himself.

  “Who found him?” he asked Nurse Batista.

  “His girlfriend.”

  “And where is she?”

  “They’ve sectioned off a part of the hospital that’s connected to our area, and put all the people who needed to be quarantined there.”

  “Can you show me?”

  They found Jeannie Saunders in a room with several others, staring sullenly at a TV mounted on the wall. As with the other televisions Billy had seen, this one was tuned to the news.

  “Jeannie?” the nurse said.

  The girl took a second before she looked over, her expression unchanged.

  “This is Dr. Grimes from the CDC. He’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Jeannie stood slowly and shuffled toward him, her arms wrapped around her chest. As she neared, he could see her eyes were red from crying.

  “Is there someplace I could speak to her alone?” he asked the nurse.

  “Not a lot of private space left, Doctor,” she told him. “There’s a linen closet at the end of the hall that’s fairly roomy. It’s possible no one’s claimed it yet.”

  “Thanks.”

  She pointed him in the right direction then headed back to Emergency Care.

  The linen closet was unoccupied. In the back corner was a folding chair stuffed between shelving units. He pulled it out and opened it for the girl. Once she was sitting, he leaned against the wall so that he wouldn’t tower over her.

  “I know this has been a very difficult time for you, and that some of the questions I’m going to ask you’ve already answered. I want you to understand that this is important, and that whatever you can tell me is going to be a big help.”

  “Sure, no problem.” She sounded even more defeated than she looked.

  “Corey’s your boyfriend?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you know how he might have gotten sick?”

  A headshake, but with a slight hesitation.

  “Before you found him, when was the last time you saw him?”

  “Uh…the night before. At Old Tom’s.”

  “Old Tom’s?”

  “It’s a pub. We had a drink and then…he went home.”

  “Alone?”

  “Of course.”

  Billy leaned back. “You’re lying,” he said. There was no time to waste trying to slowly extract what he needed from her.

  She looked up, surprised. “What?”

  “You’re lying, Jeannie.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Let me lay it out for you. Your boyfriend is dying. You could very easily be next. Potentially thousands of others could be in danger, too. If you know something and aren’t telling me, their deaths will be due to your inaction. Do you understand what I’m saying? If you think telling me is going to get you into trouble, you’re wrong. I’m just looking for the source so I can stop this as quickly as possible.”

  Her eyes shifted to the floor as she clenched her hands to stifle her shaking fingers. “We…we weren’t supposed to be there.”

  “Where?”

  “IT’S SOME KIND of factory, I think,” Billy told Matt over the phone as he made his way to Lambert-St. Louis International Airport. “From her description, it sounds similar to the virus factory in the video. She said it looked like the place had been cleared out, though. Corey—patient zero—apparently looked inside one of the vats. She said they appeared empty, but…”

  “…but you can’t see a bug,” Matt finished for him.

  “Right.”

  TWO HOURS LATER, Billy was in the Chicago area, hunting down the address the girl had given him. When he finally turned down the right street, he wasn’t surprised to see a dozen emergency vehicles parked next to the building he was looking for.

  Fire had completely gutted the structure, and while the machinery inside would, no doubt, still be partially intact, there was no wa
y he could get to it with all these people around. Not that he really needed to anymore. The blaze was more than enough confirmation of the girl’s story.

  At some point within the last several weeks, this building had been churning out the virus and shipping it off to God-only-knew-where. He was sure of it.

  There was a silver lining, though.

  “Why were you there?” he’d asked the girl before he left St. Louis.

  “Do you really need to know that?”

  “It might help.”

  She took a breath, then said, “It was Corey’s idea.”

  “Same question. Why?”

  “He’s writing this paper…was, I guess…oh, Jesus.”

  “Stay focused. What paper?”

  “He was supposed to write a company profile, only he wasn’t having any luck finding information about the company he chose. Then his friend found an address in Chicago, so…so we decided to go up and check it out.”

  “The address you visited.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Do you know the name of the company?”

  She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t remember. Hid-something, I think.”

  She coughed. If she realized what that meant, she didn’t show it.

  “The other friend you went with, would he know the name?”

  “He should.”

  Before leaving the hospital, Billy located the kid named Blanton Kirn.

  “Sure, I remember. Hidde-Kel Holdings. With a hyphen after the first ‘e.’”

  Hidde-Kel.

  It was a start.

  Twenty-Six

  I.D. MINUS 39 HOURS

  ASH AND HIS team arrived in Grise Fiord after eight p.m. It had been a mind-numbing, exhausting two days. They had tried to leave Baker Lake the day before, but had barely gotten into the air when it became obvious the weather wasn’t going to cooperate. The storm had finally broken around 6 a.m. that day, but by the time the runway was cleared and they could get on their way, it was the middle of the afternoon.

  Grise Fiord was as far as the jet would take them. Unless needed elsewhere, the pilot and plane would remain there for exactly one week. If Ash or another member of the team failed to show up prior to that, the plane would return to the Ranch. From Grise Fiord, Gagnon would fly them in a smaller, more agile craft equipped with a combination water pontoon/snow skid.