Seven Point Eight

by Marie Harbon

  “I think I’m going to have to sit down,” she said, stumbling towards the sofa.

  “Oh don’t worry,” Gary said. “That’ll just be the sedative I put in your coffee.”

  “What?” Ava mumbled, feeling afraid.

  “To ensure I can carry out what I’m going to do next. I need to incapacitate you.”

  Oh my God, the team has recruited a nutcase. What’s he going to do, rape me? Kill me?

  Ava felt a wave of dread wash over her. Her legs felt like jelly, her vision blurred, and her heart hammered in her chest.

  Gary produced a syringe from a box near the CD collection and held it up, removing the stopper from the end of the needle. As he made his way towards her, she tried to head for the door in her drugged stupor, but fell over a box. Ava hit the floor and in her panic, she rolled onto her back. Gary stood over her.

  “I’ve been planning this moment very carefully,” he said.

  Finally, Ava spoke.

  “What’s got into you? What have I ever done to you?”

  “Nothing,” he replied. “It’s more a case of, what did your uncle do to my family? I can’t gain retribution by harming him due to lack of access, but I can get the next best thing. I know how precious you are to him, you’re the favourite. I mean, he gave you a job, and a flat, and a car. Most people would have to fuck him to get those privileges. I came here to target him, but then I discovered your connection… My plan finally started to fall into place.”

  “I’m…adopted,” she said, although her voice faltered.

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is the love he feels for you, above all others. Why are you so special, Ava?”

  She didn’t know. Her uncle had always been protective of her, right from the beginning, after she’d lost her parents…

  Ava tried to escape by turning over onto her hands and knees, starting to crawl towards the door. Hopefully either she could either make it out, or he didn’t have the guts to go through with it.

  Gary advanced towards her with the syringe. She reached the front door and struggled to her feet, legs weak and disobedient. It felt like a real effort to remain standing, but she couldn’t stay here.

  I don’t want to be a pawn in his game, I don’t want to die.

  I know I’ve accepted science as my God, but if there is a deity out there, please, help.

  Ava gripped the handle and tried to yank the door open, legs wobbling beneath her and everything out of focus. However, Gary had locked it. She turned round and saw him standing there, face impassionate and cold.

  “Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded.

  Realising he had to do it quickly or not at all, he held his hand at her throat, pushed the red silk scarf aside and jabbed the needle into her neck. Fear as well as his strength pinned Ava against the door. She didn’t know what the hell he’d just introduced into her body.

  Still holding her by the throat, he began to taunt her.

  “Do you want to know what I’ve just given you?” he hissed in her face, teeth bared. “I’m going to tell you anyway, because I want you to feel terror at what’s going to happen next.”

  Ava tried to turn her head away, but he forced her to look at him.

  “My little gift to you is a shot of Ebola, so have fun. Basically, you’re fucked, my dear. There’s no surviving this little bastard. My only regret is that I won’t see the grief on your uncle’s face.”

  He dropped the syringe on the floor, pulled her out of the way and she fell to the floor. As the room spun, she heard a key turn in the lock and Gary made his escape, leaving the door ajar.

  Ava lay on the floor of his flat, feeling a sense of mortality wash over her. She’d been infected with something you never ever wanted to come into contact with. The empty syringe lay on the floor only a few yards from her, and she could do nothing to stop the contamination from invading her body now.

  No matter the severity of her situation, she needed to get help, which she wouldn’t find in here.

  Ava dragged herself along the floor, inching towards the door. Heaving herself onto her hands and knees, she crawled through it, to the top of the stairs. Everything spun wildly, but nevertheless, she grabbed the rail and tried to haul her weak body to its feet. Shaking quite violently, she stumbled down the stairs, holding onto the rail for dear life.

  In her weakened state, she missed her footing and to her horror, her legs completely surrendered. Ava tumbled down the stairs, feeling totally detached from the pain of the fall, and reality.

  She lay at the bottom of the stairs in a crumpled heap, her life beginning to play as a movie. Ava saw the faces of her family and uncle. She heard Sam’s music, and the air around her seemed to swim with distorted images of angels and demons. She thought she saw that same angelic entity hover over her, but nothing made any real sense.

  However, she didn’t want to die, even if her uncle’s adversaries had other plans. She didn’t want the Ebola to eat her flesh, or liquefy her brains. Ava wanted to survive.

  Come on, one last effort to get help.

  Haul your ass out of the door and onto the street.

  Someone will find you.

  This is not the end.

  Ava crawled on her hands and knees to the bitter conclusion of her ordeal. She pulled on the handle of the outer door, and the cool night air hit her, revitalising her senses. Ava spilled onto the street, hearing traffic swoosh past. It had started to rain, and she heard car tyres cut through the wet on the roads.

  Lying on her back, she felt the rain splash on her face, running into her eyes and her mouth. She stared at the sky, street lights blurring and clouds obscuring the stars. A quarter moon gazed down at her, as if a goddess watched over her.

  Somebody…please, call an ambulance.

  ***

  A whirlwind of activity…sirens…people jostling and bundling her into an ambulance…the lights of the hospital…doctors and nurses tending to her wounds. Everything seemed surreal, like a distorted film being viewed in a psychiatric institution.

  She heard one of them identify the puncture mark on her neck. They took blood samples from her, and wheeled her into the x-ray department. It all felt like medical chaos, and with the drug still exerting its influence on her brain and body, she lay there helpless while they conducted their investigations.

  Eventually, everything fell silent. The specialists and nurses disappeared, leaving her in a quarantined room. That same watchful quarter moon illuminated the area, its cool light filtering through the blinds at the window. She heard the faintest of voices murmuring in the distant corridors. Her room was clearly empty, yet why did she sense a presence in there with her?

  “Hello?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

  It seemed foolish to expect a reply, and she didn’t receive one. Ava wondered if it the angelic looking figure had visited her again.

  “Your advice would be much appreciated at this time,” she added.

  Ava swore she heard a slight shuffling, and glimpsed a faint shadow.

  This is crazy. There’s no one here, especially now I’ve stopped the hallucinations. They’re not returning. It’s just the effects of the drug, that’s all.

  She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping to sleep although she finally succumbed a few hours later, after running every worse case scenario through her mind.

  ***

  In the morning, specialists in protective clothing took blood samples, although they never said a word. Ava kept enquiring…’what are you doing? Are my brains going to liquefy? Am I going to die?’ They gave her simple reassurance, yet no detail, maybe because they didn’t even know the answers to her questions.

  The lack of pain in her body surprised her, and the absence of plaster casts. Perhaps they’d given her some really effective analgesics.

  For fourteen days, doctors and nurses entered the room, took blood samples, and brought her food and drinks. Hospital meals weren’t exactly haute cuisine, but she had bigger things to worry abo
ut. The sense of isolation was soul destroying at times, but she often felt that presence in the room, which gave her an odd feeling of reassurance. Eventually, the tide turned.

  Her specialist, Dr Jeremy DaSilva, entered the room, wearing minimal protection and he stood beside her with a smile on his face, revealing brilliant white teeth.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  Ava shrugged.

  “All right, I guess, although I’m bored out of my mind.”

  “Well, that’s to be expected.” He paused before continuing. “Have you noticed any fever, headache, joint or muscle aches?”

  She stopped to think, albeit briefly then replied, “I’m okay at the moment.”

  Dr DaSilva flashed his teeth in a brilliant smile again and said, “I’m glad you are feeling relatively all right, considering.”

  After a pregnant pause, she asked the toughest question she’d ever had to pose. “Am I really infected with Ebola?”

  The specialist began to take her pulse and replied.

  “We’ve conducted a stringent screening programme with your blood sample, including the standard ELISA test but, so far, we can find no evidence of contamination.”

  Ava frowned, unable to believe what he told her.

  “Gary clearly delivered the content of the syringe into my bloodstream. I was attacked.”

  He remained professional, yet exuded the typical doctor’s sympathy.

  “The police are already dealing with the matter. Do you feel ready to be interviewed about what happened?”

  “I guess so. My attacker escaped though … I don’t know where they’ll find him.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll locate him. We’ve already notified your next of kin. Your lab has been extremely helpful, and concerned too.”

  The medical staff left her alone again. In her boredom, she switched on the TV but found nothing worth watching. Someone had supplied a newspaper, so she picked it up and read about the Los Angeles riots. A state of emergency had been declared, due to shops and vehicles being set on fire, motorists being dragged from their cars, and people being shot. She read the story carefully then proceeded to pore over every detail of the rest of the paper; major and minor news articles, the agony aunt section, and even the horoscopes.

  A few hours later, the police arrived, a male and female detective in protective masks. She related the story of the attack and gave a detailed description of the assailant. They were concerned to hear of the incident, especially due to the nature of the biological agents involved, but when they realised the identity of the attacker, they were suspicious.

  “He matches the description of a dead body we found a week ago,” the male officer said. “Looks like someone got to him before we could.”

  Ava didn’t know whether to feel shocked or reassured by that news. Had he died because of what he did to her?

  Due to her quarantined status, she couldn’t receive any visitors. She really wanted to see her parents, or anyone who could offer some solace, something she couldn’t get from the hospital staff or police. They took more samples from her arm, and Ava thought she’d need a blood transfusion by the time they’d finished, as they extracted so much of it.

  Finally, two weeks later, the first visitors entered her room.

  Caroline Kavanagh hugged her daughter with relief. She’d been beside herself with worry all month and looked tired. Like the police, she showed deep concern over the attack and had many questions for Ava. “I can’t understand why anyone would want to harm you,” she said.

  “It wasn’t about me,” Ava revealed. “Gary wanted to get at your brother, not me.”

  Caroline’s brow furrowed.

  “The way he lives his life should not affect you,” she stated, her lips forming a thin line of disdain.

  “I’m the boss’s niece,” she pointed out, “and the lab itself is a target, maybe this was just bound to happen one day.”

  “I’m not going to let this go,” Caroline said, resting her fingers lightly on Ava’s arm.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to tell my brother exactly what I think, I don’t want you working at the lab anymore.”

  “Mum, I like it there. This was just a unique occurrence. You know he’d never put me in harm’s way, not intentionally. Please, don’t say anything. You know he’ll freak.”

  Caroline remained thin lipped, but she respected Ava’s wishes.

  “I can’t help but blame him,” she explained.

  “Look, I’d rather be under his care than anyone else’s. He’s helped me out so much through my life, don’t forget.”

  Caroline sighed.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ava said, “I’m glad you came.”

  Sam followed her parents, relieved to see she was okay.

  “I knew you wouldn’t die,” he said, quite emotional.

  He sat by her, and held her hand as they chatted about various things. His visit raised her morale, and she couldn’t wait to see him again.

  The next day, Tom arrived, one of her work colleagues. He’d been trying to visit her all the time she’d been hospitalised. On entering the room, he expected to find a sick person, but got a pleasant surprise instead.

  “Bloody hell,” he said. “You had us all worried, no one’s been able to get any information.”

  “The only thing I’m dying of here is boredom,” she said. “I can’t wait to get back to work.” Then she added, “How’s things at the lab?”

  “Well,” Tom began, “the police have been all over the lab, and Gary’s nowhere to be seen. Actually, he’s dead. What the fuck happened?”

  “He injected me with Ebola,” she explained, almost matter of fact.

  Tom’s jaw dropped.

  “And you’re still here?”

  “Well, yes,” she said, unable to understand the reason.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, “what have they said to you?”

  “Well, nothing, but they haven’t told me I’m going to die.”

  Tom looked at her with incredulity.

  “You’re a bloody walking miracle.”

  “What do you mean? I’m lucky, but I’m not a miracle.”

  “Well, your specialist, DaSilva, told the lab you were fortunate because the contents of the syringe weren’t live.”

  “I guess I am lucky then,” she said, grateful, but a little angry she hadn’t been told.

  “Ava,” he said, “I’ve worked in that lab five years and I’ve never come across a duff batch in all my time there. Plus, when he gave us the news, I tested the other samples, they’re all live.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “I’m trying to tell you you’re a fucking miracle. By now, you should be seriously ill, bleeding out of every orifice in your body, dead even. You know that disease has a high fatality rate.”

  “Well, my flesh isn’t liquefying so the sample must have been spoiled for some reason.”

  “Look, I eavesdropped the nurses who performed the blood tests. The test results did show evidence of infection. An enzyme conversion reaction took place, indicating the infection got into your bloodstream. The tests they did yesterday show specific antibodies in your bloodstream, proving your body responded to the infection. It wasn’t duff, your body fought off the disease.”

  Ava tried to digest what he was saying.

  “You mean, I have a natural immunity to…?”

  Tom looked at her, realising the significance.

  “They found antibodies for Ebola, the Zaire Strain. It should have killed you inside of a week. Do you know what this means?”

  Ava found it hard to accept the truth.

  Tom continued, “Your blood contains the secret to fighting one of the deadliest diseases in the world today. We’ve got to research it, find out why…confirm your immunity.”

  Could it really be true? And was it no accident that she’d come to work at a biological research lab?

  “Ple
ase, don’t say anything to the others, not even my uncle.”

  Tom protested, “This is of major fucking importance.”

  “I know. We’re not even sure yet, Ebola doesn’t kill everybody. We can’t jump to conclusions. Our secret?”

  He nodded reluctantly.

  “Okay, our secret. We’ll work on it together in our own time. You’ll not regret this.”

  She hoped he promised the truth, because if there was something special about her blood, her whole life would be turned upside down.

  11

  Pandora’s Box

  Max and I landed in New York on the 28th of April 1963. During the long and monotonous flight, I found Max to be a quiet travelling companion, and he often stared out of the window. Sometimes we exchanged apprehensive glances, and I guess this sudden alteration of plans did have a key impact on The Institute and my university course, which had been deferred for a year. I didn’t tell my father about this trip to the States though, as I wanted to go and didn’t want him to spoil it.

  After a smooth landing, we emerged into a busy airport. I found myself surrounded by a sea of American accents, although Max steered me through it all, being an old hand at this. A woman with auburn hair and huge eyelashes, who wore a smart tweed trouser suit, seemed to know him and greeted him with a hug and a kiss. She gave me the same greeting.

  “You must be Tahra,” she said, in a throaty American drawl, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  I looked over at Max, who gave nothing away, and the three of us hailed a yellow taxi cab to transport us to the place where we were going to stay. Through the window of the cab, I got a glimpse of the skyscrapers of New York, although none of the major landmarks like the Statue of Liberty or the EmpireStateBuilding. Max seemed nonchalant, he’d probably seen it all before but I found it fascinating.

  Marianne had helped us locate an excellent apartment with a fantastic view over the city. The huge lounge provided access to this panorama, and I immediately walked over to the window, spotting the EmpireStateBuilding instantly. Despite being a manmade panorama, it still had beauty.