"I don't like leaving you without your car. What if you need to go to the hospital?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I won't need to go to the hospital."
"But if you find it and the vial is broken-"
"Then I won't be going to the hospital. Sevita needed the car. It didn't make sense to have it parked here all day."
"Then drive me to the courthouse and take this one."
The parking lot was cold and breezy, old leaves raking themselves across it and catching in the cracks like little flags. She straightened Frank's tie even though it was already perfect. "It would look odd if I'm supposed to be treating Ann and I'm at the courthouse."
"You're so stubborn," Frank sighed, "be careful."
Nella squinted up at him, the bright morning sun splintering and bouncing from the waving spring leaves and sudden tears, blocking her sight with bright sparkles. "I will be. As much as I can."
He leaned in and kissed her. "I'll be back after court."
"Okay. Good luck."
"You too." He got into the car and watched her walk across the lot to the prison. He was gone before she had opened the heavy glass door.
Yesterday had been torture. It had worn away grain by grain as she sat in the hot courtroom and listened to Dr. Schneider's lawyer drone on in her opening statements. Frank had been testy and anxious all night too. He had been frantic, almost desperate and panicky when he touched her. Neither of them had slept well and Nella felt like it had been weeks since she'd had a quiet, full night's rest. It was almost a relief not to be waiting any more. She tried to pretend that she wasn't on edge, but everything seemed grating and sharp. The florescent bulbs buzzed like a colony of dying flies and the smell of bleach and floor cleaner was dizzying. She brushed it off as she walked to the metal detector. Terry was slumped on a stool beside it. Shocked, Nella almost asked what he was doing there before she remembered that he hadn't seen her at Frank's house. He waved her through without concern. She hurried to Stan Kembrey's closet sized office. He was tapping a pen too quickly on the side of his knee and staring at the biohazard suits he'd hung from an upper locker.
"I don't like this," he said without greeting her, "I think we should let the military handle it."
"I understand. You go ahead and make a call to the Governor. I'll get started and he can catch up."
"It's not my fault it's gone on this long. You and Frank have been mighty close with all this."
Nella perched on the stool across from Stan. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm as nervous as you. But we don't have time to wait for the military. You didn't see that courthouse. It's packed to the gills. If the samples somehow end up there-"
Stan stood up and patted her shoulder. He grabbed one of the biosuits and handed it to her.
"I'll go alone if you like. I'll understand if you don't want to go in there," she said.
He pulled the other suit off the hook. "No way. Frank would have my head. Besides, I know all the good hiding places."
The suit was sticky and hot and the mask itched and scraped. Nella tried to adjust to it as they walked toward the cell block. "Did you clear the block?" she asked as loudly as she could. She had to strain to hear Stan's muffled response.
"Yeah, we moved Miss Connelly to the infirmary for now. The only staff in the block are lab techs to help, you know, if we find it. They are wearing suits too. Could it be in any other spot than his cell?"
"It's possible, but very unlikely."
Stan glanced around bending to peer down the hall. "As far as anyone knows, this is a routine drill. Let's try to keep it that way."
Nella nodded to show that she understood. Stan opened the dented metal door to the block. He started barking orders as they entered. "You and you, search the common area. You and you get Ann Connelly's cell. You two on Dr. Schneider's." Stan grabbed her arm. "You're with me." He called after the scattering teams. "Remember, treat this as a real biohazard event, not a drill. If you find the goods, don't handle them. Call me. Is that understood?"
A chorus of affirmatives echoed back at him. He looked at Nella and she could see the sweat rolling down his forehead. "God I hope you're right," he said.
"Me too."
They walked into the small cell and closed the door behind them. There was barely room to pass by each other and Nella was grateful that she wasn't claustrophobic. "You said they'd be in vials. Where should we start looking?"
"I think they are in the pens. The jeweler is making fountain pens for the defense lawyers and you said he came in with some. Maybe he's replaced the cartridges with the vials."
Stan nodded. "All right, you try on the table there and I'll check the bookshelves here. As you go, make a neat pile of things you have checked to one side so we don't repeat. Remember to check the spine of books and open them all, a lot of prisoners will hide things in the spine or cut small holes into the pages. We'll empty out the whole place if we have to."
Nella reached for the small cup of pens and pencils on the desk. She tried to keep her hands from shaking. Two of the three fountain pens were sitting in the cup. She gently picked up the first one. She slowly unscrewed the handle and pulled the cartridge out. Just ink. She clicked her suit's small flash light on and checked the hollow where the cartridge had been and then the empty space in the handle. Both empty. She put the pen back together and placed it beside her on the window sill. She reached for the next one. The handle unscrewed easily but the cartridge was stuck. Nella clicked the flashlight on. She couldn't see what it was stuck on. It looked like a normal cartridge. The suit was clinging in several places because she was sweating so profusely, but she felt a chill growl up her spine and bite the back of her skull. There was no help for it. She had to get it out. "Do you have tweezers Stan?" she asked.
"On the lab cart. One second." He left the cell and Nella stood there praying that she wouldn't break the cartridge. He hurried back, handing her the tweezers. "Did you find it?"
"I don't think so. But I have to make sure. Maybe you should- step out for a minute."
Stan tapped his mask. "That's what these are for. I'm not leaving you alone in here, not for anything."
Nella nodded. The seal over the nose piece slid and her eyepieces fogged. With a shaky hand she pressed the seal down on her sweaty nose and waited for the lenses to clear. She poked the tweezers into the pen and grasped the cartridge, trying not to squeeze too tightly. She tried to wiggle the cartridge but it didn't come loose. She hesitated for a moment and then yanked. Please don't break, please don't break, please don't break. The cartridge came free. Just ink. Nella realized she'd been holding her breath and let it out in a rush. She saw Stan watching her and shook her head. She reassembled the pen and put it next to the other one. One by one she checked each of the ball points, just in case, and then the cup. She moved on to the small pile of books as Stan quickly and thoroughly emptied the shelf. By the time she had finished what was on the table, he was already removing the mattress to search it. They found the last fountain pen under the bed, but it was filled with ink as well. Discouraged, they continued on, checking hollows in the little bit of furniture, the air vents, the plumbing. It took them almost two hours to search and put the room back together. The other teams were already finished. Stan sat wearily on the bunk and looked up at her. "You're sure the jeweler didn't take any cartridges or vials with him?"
"Frank got him to show him the pens without any problem. He wouldn't have been that open about it if he had. Frank said they were hollow, ready for cartridges but not filled." Nella sat on the other end of the bunk. "Maybe Dr. Pazzo keeps them on him all the time."
Stan shook his head. "I don't see how. They are searched pretty thoroughly when they leave the prison and again at the courthouse and then again when they come back."
Nella sat silent in disappointment.
"What I don't get," said Stan suddenly, "is why
he would go to all this trouble."
"What do you mean?"
Stan got up and checked the door, making sure the other teams weren't listening. "Well, you said this bacteria is even worse than the first one, right? And that every last one of us was probably going to get it, Immunes and all."
"That's right, as far as Dr. Carton explained it."
Stan scratched his head through the suit's plastic cover. "Well, it's not like Dr. Pazzo is going to escape it then right?"
"Not unless he finds a bunker somewhere. I don't think he wants to escape it anyway. He'd want a front row seat to watch the world fall apart. It's revenge for him."
"Why bother with trying to secretly transport vials in pens or body cavities or whatever then?"
"I don't follow."
"Why set an elaborate trap when he could be the trap himself? Why not infect himself and then just walk into court and talk to as many folks as possible, shake as many hands as possible, heck, even testify and cough a bit? You said the courthouse was packed. How often do that many people get together any more?"
Nella felt the bottom of the world fall away. "Oh God."
The New Plague
After the Cure Page 54