The Devil's Vial

by Brumbaugh,Byron

  There was a moment of awkwardness as first Oscar stood, then was helped to step painfully over the threshold. He leaned gently against Emily and Alex as his wheelchair was folded, then passed through the door. His hands had been bound too, which made the whole process even more difficult. Once the chair was reconfigured, Oscar sat with a sigh and they proceeded down the hall. Alex, eager to see what was coming next, took the lead, just behind Martin and Buddy. The dog seemed to ignore him.

  It was all as Richard described. Through the windows to his left, Alex could see a large room containing stone-topped work benches. On the benches stood various laboratory instruments - chromatographs, centrifuges, racks of test tubes and other glassware, computers, printers, and devices that he didn’t recognize. He was surprised not to see any personnel in the lab. Maybe it was after hours.

  They continued around the hallway until they reached another door with a keypad. Martin opened it and it, too, sounded like it had an airtight seal. It was not as robust as the outer door and had a more conventional oblong shape. Entering the room, Alex could see Todd seated in front of a console. Above the console, hung from the ceiling at an angle, were computer screens and TV monitors. Beyond the monitors were plate glass windows that revealed the lab behind them. Doug stood to Todd’s left against a wall, hands unbound, arms crossed in front of him. He nodded slightly at them as they entered. Emily pointedly ignored him.

  Todd looked up as they entered the room. “Ah,” he said. “I’m glad you called. I was about to send for you anyway. It seems we have come to some of the same conclusions. Despite our differences about releasing the virus, we agree about the usefulness of you four. Doug has convinced me each of you have talents that should not be wasted.”

  Doug stared straight ahead and said nothing.

  Todd looked through the windows into the lab. “We just finished preparations; I just sent everybody else home. We’re about ready to release the virus into the atmosphere.”

  He turned back and looked at his guests. “I am sorry about your hands, but, you understand, I can’t quite trust you until the virus has been released.” Moving over to a part of the console that had several switches and knobs, he held one hand hovering over a small lever under a hinged cover of transparent plastic. He stood, thoughtfully staring at the lever for a moment. “It’s taken a lot of work, and years of research, but we’re finally here. Mankind will survive. All I have to do is pull this lever and the course of human events will change forever.” He looked up at them. “And despite your objections, it will be for the best.”

  He looked at Martin and his team. “Martin, I think you and one other guard are sufficient here. Send the others to help get the couriers ready to go. They’re going to need transportation to the airport.”

  Martin nodded and waved all but one other guard out the door. The others seemed to know what was expected of them; they left without a word. Both Martin and the remaining guard were armed with pistols holstered at their sides. Martin kept a tight leash on Buddy, holding him close to his left leg. Buddy sat quietly. He seemed at ease. Alex wanted to go over and pat him on the head as he had so many times in the past.

  “In addition to the virus I’m going to release here, we have produced enough to distribute into the upper atmosphere throughout the entire Earth. Within an hour, several couriers will arrive to take these suitcases on commercial flights that will cover the globe.” Todd nodded toward a matched set of six aluminum valises that could be seen in the lab through the windows. They were stacked together in a pile. “These cases have mechanisms that will slowly release the virus into the cargo hold of airliners while at cruise altitude. The cargo compartments are pressurized, but not tightly sealed. Enough virus will escape into the upper atmosphere, as the plane flies to its destination, to seed the air with organisms that can then reproduce and ultimately infect the human race everywhere.”

  “Doctor Todd,” said Richard. “If we can’t change your mind about releasing the virus, we will do whatever we can to help people after the virus is released. To do anything else would just be a stupid waste. But I can’t drop it without giving one last try. I implore you - no, I beg you. Please don’t do this. There must be a better, more humane way…”

  Alex looked around the room. It was longer than it was wide and fairly large; it contained the eight of them comfortably. Martin was at one end, right hand on his pistol, alert, watching every move made. At the other end were Doug, standing with arms still folded over his chest, and the second guard. In between, spread in more or less an arc, were Richard, then Emily and Oscar and, eight feet or so from the console and Todd, Alex. Alex desperately sought a weapon, something he could use to put a stop to what was about to happen. He didn’t see so much as a pencil, not even a random screwdriver left lying around after some quick repair.

  Oscar rolled his wheelchair back a bit with his feet. He seemed to be sizing up the computer equipment. Good for you, Oscar, Alex thought. Maybe you can come up with something.

  “It’s too late to consider alternatives,” said Todd. “You must realize that or you wouldn’t have called me.” He walked over to the counter and opened a drawer containing several syringes in a pile. “There’s not enough time for your bodies to develop an immune response to the vaccine we designed, but we also developed a treatment that will protect you until you can develop immunity. We’ll give you both the vaccination and the other therapy now. The vaccine, you won’t need to repeat, but the other, you will need to repeat every week for about ninety days in order to guarantee you won’t get infected.”

  Alex eyed the syringes hopefully, considering their possible use as weapons. “Why won’t the rest of the world be able to develop an effective treatment if you can?” asked Alex. He was desperately trying to buy time.

  “You forget,” said Todd, “we engineered this virus. We know all there is to know about it. Even once it’s known that a deadly pandemic has occurred, it will take time, too much time, for anyone else to figure out what the agent is and even more time to design a defense against it. Besides, we control the best minds, equipment, and resources in the world. We can delay the fight against the disease as long as we need to.”

  Todd looked over at Alex. “Accept it. This will happen. And it’s going to happen as soon as you get these injections. That’s all we’re waiting for.” He ran an affectionate finger over one of the syringes. “You understand you’ll have to be held incommunicado until things have progressed enough that there is absolutely nothing you could possibly do to interfere with our plans. We’ll send you someplace in the third world where you’ll be isolated from powerful people that could make our task complicated. Within a year to eighteen months, not even that will be necessary and you’ll be free to go as you please. Until then, you’ll be provided the opportunity to help your fellow man through this difficult transition. If you cooperate, you’ll continue to receive the additional injections that’ll keep you alive until you have immunity.”

  He picked up the syringes and handed them to the guard next to Doug. “Jim here will now give you your injections,” said Todd. “Please cooperate.”

  The guard fumbled with the syringes, apparently trying to decide how to hold them all and give injections at the same time. He looked up at Alex as if considering his options.

  Alex thought about rushing the guard for the syringes, but decided against it. He felt defeated. This was it. The final moments before Armageddon. He had no ideas. All he could do was throw himself at Martin and the other guard in some wild hope they could gain the advantage. But what could he possibly do, bound as he was? He glanced at Martin, struggling with whether or not to make a suicidal lunge. Looking at Buddy, his mind went blank. Buddy, he thought. I love you, you stupid dog. How did that asshole ever turn you against me?

  Alex remembered when he first got Buddy, he’d been a police dog. Buddy’s partner was an elderly police officer who decided to retire. The city, who owned Buddy, agreed to let the officer take Buddy with
him when he left. Buddy was still young, but well-trained, and the ex-policeman successfully turned him into a pet, although one he had to keep a close leash on. The policeman came in the ER with a stroke and that’s when Alex met him. The guy was grateful for Alex’s help and decided, since he would no longer be able to care for Buddy, he would give the dog to Alex. Somehow, Alex and Buddy hit it off from the beginning, despite Buddy’s background as an attack dog. The policeman told Alex commands to avoid, which wasn’t hard because they were all in German.

  The guard decided to put all but one of the syringes in a shirt pocket and seemed ready to proceed.

  Wait a minute! thought Alex. Maybe Buddy remembers those commands. Maybe his prior training can be brought to the surface… What was the command for attack? Alex thought hard trying to remember. It starts with an ‘F’… Suddenly, it hit him like a voice from God. “Buddy!” he shouted in a commanding tone. Buddy’s head turned and he looked Alex in the eye. His ears were laid back flat against his neck. Martin, already alert, pulled his pistol out of its holster and began to swing it in Alex’s direction. “Fass!” commanded Alex as he raised his bound hands and pointed at Martin’s gun hand.

  Something seemed to click in the dog’s brain, some distant memory revived, because he coiled his long lean body, then lunged up at Martin’s outstretched arm, teeth sinking deep into the flesh at his wrist, before Martin could bring the gun to bear on Alex.

  . . .

  Richard stood, watching and listening, but none of it seemed to register. His mind was damn near as blank as when he meditated, but for much different reasons. It was almost as if he wasn’t even there; as if he were in some weird kind of a coma, unable to react, but still able to see and hear. He was disconnected from the world, which wasn’t alarming as he didn’t know what to do anyway. He heard Alex yell some strange word and saw the dog lunge for Martin, but he couldn’t make any sense out of it. What was happening?

  A shout of surprise erupted from Martin and the gun flew from his hand to Richard’s feet. In a moment, Martin was flat on his back with a one-hundred and twenty-five pound German shepherd lying across his chest, still hanging onto his wrist.

  Reflexively, Richard bent down and picked up the gun. He wasn’t sure what to do with it. For just a second, he stood there, looking at it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emily raise her bound hands and reach out for the gun, but she was still too far away to grab it. Richard thought about holding it out for her. Then he saw Alex planting his feet on the floor, in what looked like a commitment to a suicidal charge at the other guard. But, before Alex could act, Doug struck the guard, causing him to drop the syringe he held. The guard staggered backward and desperately grabbed for his pistol. Doug stopped him with a parry to the guard’s wrist, then gave him a swift upper-cut that threw the guard’s head back violently. Syringes flew from his pocket and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

  Todd, standing next to the two of them, stepped back as if uncomprehending of what was happening.

  Richard was even more stunned. What was Doug doing? He saw Alex hesitate, as if pondering whether or not to turn his attack onto Doug. Doug was struggling to get the gun out of the guard’s holster. Richard took a quick glance at the others. Buddy and Martin were still thrashing on the floor. Emily, apparently distracted by the commotion made by Doug, had not yet gotten Richard’s gun. Just then, Richard happened to snatch a look at Todd’s face. Todd’s eyes widened and he moved quickly over to the console, his hand reaching out for the lever. Richard brought the pistol up and pointed it at Todd. “Don’t do it!” he shouted. He didn’t plan on firing the thing, just hoping the threat would cause the desired result. Hadn’t he been here before?

  Todd withdrew his hand for a moment as if considering his options. A look of resolution flashed across his face. “You leave me no choice,” he said as he reached out again, raising the cover from the lever.

  Richard was vaguely aware of thoughts of billions of people dying. Now. In this next moment. He felt a wordless, voiceless decision made. As if possessed, his hands lifted and pointed the pistol at Todd. They were his hands, but he had no conscious awareness of giving them the command to move. The gun exploded. Todd lurched back away from the lever and hit the far wall with a thud. He slid down to the floor, landing in a spread-eagled sitting position, leaving a streak of red on the wall. There was a wild-eyed expression of surprise on his face as he looked down to a widening wet stain spreading across his shirt. Richard watched all this happen as if it were a movie on the big screen; as if he were a passive observer, not an active participant.

  A moment after the pistol shot, Martin gave a mighty lurch and threw Buddy halfway across the room. There was a spray of tissue and blood as Buddy took some of Martin’s flesh with him. The dog hit the wall with a yelp and fell solidly on the floor, momentarily stunned. Martin growled in pain and reached for his right ankle. His hand still functioned well enough to pull a backup pistol from an ankle holster. He moved to swing it in Richard’s direction.

  Richard, after shooting Todd, let his hands fall, pointing the pistol at the floor. The empty, dull vacuum in his head morphed into something more akin to a deep sorrow. He let the pistol fall to the floor as he turned to face Martin. He was vaguely aware of Emily diving for the pistol.

  Martin’s blood-soaked backup pistol swung up and pointed at Richard. Emily was on the floor, just grasping the gun Richard dropped. There was another loud explosion. Richard flinched, but did not fall; he was surprised at the lack of pain. A look of surprise flashed across Martin’s face as he jerked back along the floor. Richard realized it wasn’t Martin that fired. Martin’s gun swung past Richard and aimed over to where Todd had been. Richard flinched again as he heard Martin’s gun fire and saw his arm flex upward. Richard turned to look where Martin’s gun pointed. Doug stood, aiming a pistol at Martin. The other guard was on the floor, not moving. Doug’s gun fired. Richard flinched again. His nostrils filled with the acrid odor of spent gun powder.

  Richard looked back at Martin. This shot hit him in the head. A surprised, puzzled look froze on his face as death washed over him. A pool of blood grew beneath his head, which was now flat on the floor.

  Emily, gun in hand, rushed over to Martin, pushing Richard aside. She kicked Martin’s gun away and stood over him, gun aimed at his head. She only stood there a moment, then reached down to his neck. “He’s dead,” she said. She looked at Alex. “Pick up his gun,” she ordered.

  Alex bent down and picked up the gun that landed near him. Richard, recovering from his paralysis, tried to size up their situation.

  Buddy regained his feet and looked around the room as if unsure of what happened. Oscar started rolling his wheelchair toward the console and its computers. Doug stood with a bewildered look on his face, still aiming his gun at Martin. Richard roused himself and walked over to where Todd was on the floor.

  Alex went to check on the guard, who was still motionless. He patted him down and found a backup pistol in a holster in the small of his back. Taking the pistol from the guard, Alex put it in his belt. He searched his pockets and found a pocket knife. The man was beginning to stir.

  Richard stood over Todd, looking down at him. Todd coughed with a thick red spray of spittle and blood. He blinked and whispered something. Blood was running from the corner of his mouth. Richard bent down closer so he could hear what Todd was trying to say. He couldn't quite make it out.

  Todd reached up and, with a weak grip on his shirt, pulled Richard closer. “I… could not… have been wrong,” he whispered between gasps of air. “It was… the right… thing… to do.”

  “It’s okay,” said Richard. “You weren’t able to pull the lever. You did not kill billions of people.”

  A soft dullness filled Todd's eyes; his hand fell to the floor and his chin fell to his chest. Richard reached out and put an index and middle finger on Todd’s carotid artery. He stood, still staring at Todd’s body. “He’s dead,” he said to no one in p
articular as he turned to look at the others.

  Emily walked over to Doug, all the while keeping an eye on the other guard who was opening his eyes. “Keep that gun on him,” she told Alex. “I’ll get something to tie his hands.”

  “I found a pocket knife on him,” said Alex. “We can cut off these damn bonds.”

  Emily grunted and turned toward Doug who still held a bead on Martin’s dead body. Emily reached up and put a hand on the gun he held outstretched in front of him and pushed it down. “You got him,” she said. “He’s dead. I’m sorry about all those things I said and thought about you. I should have known…”

  Doug dropped to his knees and bent forward. There was a spot of blood on his shirt at mid-chest.

  “Doug! Are you all right?” asked Emily.

  Doug coughed. “No,” he said. “You were right, I was wrong.” He gasped for air. “I forgot who I was sworn to serve. I didn’t get it until the shit hit the fan -”

  “Doug!” said Emily. “Dammit, don’t you die on me!”

  Richard watched most of this out of the corner of his eye. The guard turned his head and looked directly at Alex. “Hold it right there!” Alex threatened the guard. “Don’t move a muscle!” The guard rolled over onto his side, looking around the room, surveying what happened. He said nothing. “Move up against the wall. Stay on the floor,” commanded Alex. He aimed his pistol at the man’s forehead.

  Richard glanced quickly over to Doug and Emily. Doug fell over sideways and lay on the floor. There was a growing pool of blood under where he lay. Emily knelt down next to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Doug, no,” she whispered. She grabbed his wrist, then reached for his neck. Her hands dropped in front of her and she stood.

  The guard did as he was told and watched what was unfolding.