‘I just like to know who everybody is,’ Raine said.
3
Doctor Isiah Grant collected the surgical goggles from his workbench and placed the elasticated strap at the back of his head so he could stretch them over his own glasses. He then reached across the bench to the MP3 player fixed in its speaker bay. He shuffled through the tracks using his chubby index finger and finally settled on ‘Queen of the Night Aria from The Magic Flute.’
The female Soprano’s luscious and agile voice suddenly transformed every dingy corner of the laboratory.
Grant bobbed his head along to the music with a subdued sense of glee. As he approached the gurney, wheeling over his portable table in the process, the creature strapped to it tried to twist its body towards him. It snapped its broken teeth, only inches away from the black man’s almost hairless head. Grant paid it no mind. He was too busy checking that its leather bindings were suitably tight and secure.
Once he’d finished the safety inspection, he afforded himself a brief glance into the grey pits of its soulless eyes. He lingered in its gaze only for a moment, and the creature ceased its gnashing. It was questionable which of the two regarded the other with the least amount of emotion.
The doctor rolled up his sleeves, retrieved his rubber gloves from the table, and snapped each one on. He closed his eyes to allow the violins and the delicious vocals to take him, at least partially, to another place. Running his hands down his plastic apron, he reached to the portable table again for the circular bone-saw.
The living corpse had no idea what was about to happen, but it writhed around on the gurney all the same. It tried to bite Grant again, as he positioned the saw blade. The gurney’s neck strap succeeded in holding the creature at bay.
The beginning of the aria’s chorus coincided perfectly with the spinning blade tearing a path into the side of its skull. Flesh and bone fragments began to spurt from the opening. The saw let out a delighted squeal and the creature’s eyes bulged. It opened its mouth to moan, splitting the skin at both corners.
Foul and rotten matter splattered against Grant’s apron. Undeterred, he forced the blade deeper, still bobbing his head to the opera music. He didn’t hear someone calling until they were virtually on top of him.
‘Doctor Grant!’
To Grant’s dismay, his moment of reflection was cut short by the group of intruders now standing around his work station.
He turned off the bone-saw and tossed it back onto the table.
Before McCaffrey could speak again, the doctor held up a finger to silence him and then walked to the bench to shut down his MP3 player. He faced the interlopers and took a good look at each of them. Raine, Ethan, Salty, Darla and Edwards were present, all five staring at the creature on the gurney with a deep channel now bored into its skull. Osgood had accompanied them too.
‘I’m sorry, Doctor Grant, but I did mention to expect us this morning,’ McCaffrey said.
‘I’m perfectly aware of our little meet and greet, which is why I’m currently working here instead of in my own lab.’ Each word spoken was crisp and considered—immaculately pronounced. ‘I apologise I’m unable to “scrub up” for our guests, but I’m having to work double time because at least one of my colleagues is preoccupied with a wounded member of their group.’
Osgood sighed, yet chose to keep his thoughts to himself.
‘Yeah, well. That was kind of my fault,’ McCaffrey said, distinctly glancing to Edwards—the real culprit.
Grant wrinkled his large forehead in a frown. ‘I’m unconcerned with who’s responsible. My only priority is the delay it causes in a project that is already far too thin on the ground.’
‘Of course, Doctor. My mistake,’ McCaffrey said.
‘Well, yes.’ Grant seemed to calm his frustration. ‘Thank you then, Donald. Doctor Osgood and I will take it from here. You can go back to your duties. I assume you have some.’
Raine watched him closely. She noticed that every time he spoke, he was incapable of making eye contact with anyone.
‘Never a dull moment for me, Doc.’ McCaffrey looked at Raine as he turned for the door and whispered ‘Have fun.’
Grant continued to fiddle with the medical implements on his table until McCaffrey had left the room.
‘I understand you’ve spent some time in the infected zones,’ he said.
‘As far as we know, the whole world is an infected zone,’ Raine replied.
The creature on the gurney still writhed around, and Grant seemed unconcerned by how close he was to its snapping jaws.
‘Yes, of course. Before that you were stationed at a FEMA camp?’ he said.
‘That didn’t turn out so well, so you’ll forgive us if we seem a little suspicious of a secret government facility,’ Raine said.
Grant nodded. A brief smile shaped his lips and was gone just as quickly. ‘It’s not my job to manage your apprehensions, erm… I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.’
‘Miller.’
‘But if it helps to put you at ease, our focus is much more on the dead than the living.’
‘And what exactly is it that you’re doing here, Doctor?’ Ethan said, his voice gruff due to lack of sleep and over-indulgence.
‘Our initial project was to contain the Necro-virus by trying to find combinations of antivirals that could effectively disrupt its life cycle and its ability to replicate its genetic material inside the cells of its hosts.’ Grant’s shoulders rounded and he looked down on the creature as it attempted to break free of its bindings. ‘Since the exodus, we’ve been forced to study the nature of the beast instead, in the hopes that we will eventually discover a vaccine.’
‘That why you’re scalping pretty boy?’ Salty said.
‘The great advantage of operating on these particular patients is one can dissect parts of the brain and study the tissue while the subject is still alive,’ Grant said.
‘Alive?’ Raine said.
‘That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?’ Grant said, wagging his finger. ‘Are they alive or are they dead. For now, let’s just say they continue to function.’
‘How much do you really understand about them, Doctor Grant?’ Ethan said. He moved closer to the operating area, clutching his stomach to keep the persistent gargling at bay.
‘A considerable amount, but not enough. When is it ever enough for men and women of science? For instance, we know that the virus latches onto the neural cells in the brain, fuses with them, takes control of their DNA, and replicates itself inside them.’
‘Say what now?’ Salty said.
‘Those new cells create what are called “bio-bridges” which form neural pathways, linking parts of the brain in ways we have never seen before—or thought were possible,’ Osgood said.
‘Thus, cognitively re-engineering its host,’ Grant added.
‘So, you’re saying this Necro-virus, as you call it, is transforming the make-up of the human brain into something else entirely?’ Ethan said.
‘Not entirely. It’s still very much bares the neurological footprint of a humanoid, but it would be a mis-classification to refer to these creatures as reanimated human beings,’ Osgood said.
‘We come back as something else,’ Raine said.
‘Not technically true either,’ Grant said. ‘When a victim is bitten, the neurological change takes place before death, in preparation for what is to come after. In our research, we have found that infected patients that died almost instantly from their wounds, reanimated with seemingly low functionality. Whereas, victims who lasted a day or two from the moment of infection, returned with far greater capabilities—even, perhaps, powers of deliberation equivalent to a young child.’
‘That’s why they wanna eat you before they’re dead, right?’ Darla said.
‘You have witnessed this?’ Osgood said, leaning in with interest.
‘Yeah. We witnessed it,’ Salty said.
&nbs
p; ‘The infected person attacked you?’ Grant said.
‘It was a young girl. Her father gave his blood to her willingly,’ Raine said.
Grant’s eyes widened like an excited child. ‘Fascinating! There’s an existing condition called immune hemolytic anemia. The term describes when the body’s white blood cells become so aggressive, they attack normal tissue. Usually, IHA causes the breakdown of organ tissues. The Necro-virus, however, sends the white blood cell count through the roof and the attack focuses on the red blood cells.
‘I believe this deficiency leads to the victim developing an extremely aggressive craving for blood, and it is my theory that this craving persists after death and reanimation.’
‘So, it’s not the flesh they want, but the blood beneath it,’ Osgood added, with a level of confidence that suggested he concurred with the professional opinion of his superior.
‘It’s the most likely conclusion to draw from observing their feeding rituals,’ Grant said.
‘And how exactly were you able to do that?’ Raine said.
Grant shrugged.
‘During my time on the project, working with such a violent species, there were a couple of accidents.’
‘And you just stood there and observed their “feeding rituals”?’
Grant smiled, unaffected by her insinuation.
‘If the victim was already dead, of course. It was the only responsible thing to do, and we obtained some excellent data because of it.’
‘Well, as long as you collected enough data, I guess that’s the only thing that matters now,’ Raine said.
The doctor hesitated for a moment, unsure whether she was deliberately trying to pose a trick question.
‘Correct,’ he replied. ‘Now, if there’s nothing else of immediate importance you wish to discuss, you’ll have to excuse me. I have some extremely vital work to do, and I’m already behind,’ he said, gesturing to the half-mutilated creature writhing about on the gurney.
‘Certainly. We’ll leave you alone to slice up your patients in peace,’ Raine said.
Grant suddenly straightened up and seemed to grow a few inches taller. His head twitched to the left like an android with a glitch in its programming.
‘I understand your group will be staying with us for the short-term?’
‘Until our friend has healed enough to travel,’ Raine said.
‘Understandable… I’m quite happy for you to continue to use our facilities—our heat and electricity until that time. All that I ask in return is that you respect the research being conducted here and allow the scientific team to go about its business unhindered.’
‘You don’t need to worry about us. We’ll be out of your hair soon enough.’
The two of them engaged in an inquisitive stare, which lasted a little too long for comfort.
Osgood ended it by lightly touching Raine’s upper arm.
‘I’m sure we’ll all get along just fine,’ he said.
‘Well then. Good day to you all,’ Grant said. He walked over to the workbench and pressed play on his MP3 player to resume The Magic Flute aria.
‘See you around, Doctor Grant,’ Raine replied.
Before the group reached the door, they heard the saw kick in and the grinding of metal on bone.
‘Your boss showcases a very particular brand of hospitality, Ozzie. I’ll give him that,’ Salty said as they stopped in the corridor.
‘I know. I’m sorry. You have to understand that Grant is a unique individual—special, in fact,’ Osgood said. ‘He was, by no means of exaggeration, a child prodigy. Excepted into Harvard at the age of 16. By the time he was 20, he’d graduated with a degree in cognitive science. Before he was 30, he was appointed Division Director of the largest neuroscience research program in the United States. The guy has an IQ of 213, for Christ’s sake. He operates on a different plane of existence to everyone else. All the scientists who were part of the Lazarus Project were in awe of him.’
‘He has a decent taste in music too,’ Ethan said.
‘I’d choose his music over hearing him talk again,’ Darla said.
‘What’s the Lazarus Project?’ Raine cut in, her attention piqued.
‘It’s what we were doing here—what we are doing still,’ Osgood said.
‘So, we’ve met the whole gang now, right? Can we get back to the living quarters?’ Darla said. She gripped her right arm to stop it from trembling.
‘Amen to that. I could do with a lie down.’ Ethan pressed his hand against his stomach again and exhaled an uncomfortable breath.
‘Sure. I better be getting back anyway. I’m already on Grant’s shit list,’ Osgood said as he walked away. ‘Let Foster know if you need anything else. She’ll be looking in on your friend until this evening.’
Even after he’d closed the door behind him, Raine stood in the same place, thinking about what both scientists had told them.
‘Hey, Miller?’ Salty said when he noticed that she hadn’t followed them. ‘You comin’?’
‘I’ll be right there,’ she said.
4
‘I know it might not feel like it right now, but you were pretty lucky that the bullet didn’t cause too much tissue damage and missed your femur bone,’ Foster said as she changed the blood bag of O.B.’s IV.
O.B. shifted his buttocks on the firm mattress to ease the growing ache in his left hip. Restricted by the sling elevating his leg, he was able to move just enough to gain some relief.
He gazed up at his carer who now prepared the syringe for his next anti-biotic injection. In the lowlights of the makeshift hospital room, the strong bone structure around her cheeks seemed even more pronounced. She’d tied back her auburn hair, which matched the colour of her almond-shaped eyes.
‘I guess everybody is lucky to still be themselves these days,’ O.B. said sheepishly. ‘How long will it take until I’m back to normal again?’
‘That varies depending on the patient. Based on your age, you should be able to walk relatively free from pain in the next four to five days. It will take a good couple of weeks for you to make a full recovery.’
‘That doesn’t sound too bad.’
‘Better than you expected?’
‘I expected to bleed to death out on the road,’ O.B. said.
Foster smiled and flicked the base of the syringe’s needle.
‘Well, you didn’t,’ she said.
‘Thank you, Doctor Foster—for everything you did for me.’
‘Doctor Osgood helped as well.’
‘I thanked him already.’
‘In that case, you’re very welcome… what’s your full name?’
‘Oswald.’
‘You’re very welcome, Oswald. Now hold still.’
Foster pulled his arm towards her, swabbed the area with Isopropyl, and slid the point of the needle under the skin.
He felt its sharpness, but forced himself not to flinch in her presence. She injected the anti-biotic and removed the needle, dabbing the area with the pad again.
‘All done. If you experience any anxiety, nightmares, or depression, let myself or Doctor Osgood know. It’s quite common for people who’ve experienced gunshot trauma, so it’s nothing to worry about.’
‘OK. I will,’ O.B. said.
‘I have to go and check on a few things, but I’ll be back. Get some rest,’ she said.
‘Thanks a lot. Before you go, I was wondering what your name was. That is if you don’t mind.’
Foster smiled again. ‘I guess there’s little point in formalities, seeing as we’re not really in a hospital. It’s Geraldine.’
She almost jumped out of her skin when she turned for the door and saw Ethan standing there.
‘Sorry about that, Doctor. I have a habit of unintentionally sneaking up on people,’ he said.
Foster gripped at her chest and took a breath.
‘Just try to remember to stamp your feet next time.�
�
‘I’ll remember. Is it OK if I visit the patient?’
‘That’s fine. Be sure not to excite him.’
‘No one’s ever described me as exciting before, so I’m sure he’s safe enough,’ Ethan said.
Foster nodded.
‘I’ll be back later.’ She brushed by him and headed down the corridor.
‘Hey!’ O.B. said, sitting up on his pillows.
‘Hey there. I see “Geraldine” is taking good care of you.’
‘Well, erm, I guess. She’s been great. Doctor Osgood too,’ O.B. said, unable to prevent his cheeks flushing with warmth at the sound of her name.
‘But if you had to pick a favourite?’
‘Shut up!’ O.B. said.
As Ethan got closer, O.B. realised how unwell he looked.
‘Wow. I thought I was the one who got shot.’
‘Yes, I… I was burning the candle at both ends last night.’
‘You mean while I was suffering, you were drinking?’
‘It took the edge off the anxiety,’ Ethan said. ‘Anyway, to apologise for my irresponsible behaviour, I brought you a peace offering.’ He produced an object from his pocket and held it towards the bed, beaming a smile. It was a 5th Avenue candy bar.
‘Woaw,’ O.B. said, fixing an excited gaze on the brown wrapper. ‘Where in hell did you get that?’
‘I snagged it from one of the vending machines.’
‘They have vending machines?’ O.B. said.
‘They do indeed, but they are free to play, so I want you to pace yourself. OK, big guy?’
O.B. was too busy snatching the candy bar from him to listen. He peeled the wrapper away to reveal the rich chocolate underneath, already consuming it in his imagination. Before he took a bite, he suddenly remembered something.
‘How did your introduction go? Geraldi… I mean Doctor Foster told me that you were meeting Doctor Grant.’
Ethan screwed up his face.
‘It went OK, for the few minutes that it lasted. He’s not so big on conversation, it seems.’
Everything Dies [Season Two] Page 8