The Devil's Vial

by Brumbaugh,Byron

  “Aaaah!” he yelled. The bottoms of his feet were on fire! They must not have made it entirely under the ledge when the heat blasted out of the elevator shaft. He reached down and pulled and kicked his shoes off. His vision slowly returned to normal. Alex now realized Richard had grabbed his shirt and pulled him down below the level of the loading dock, shielding him from the force of the blast. It was Richard’s chest that had broken his fall. Still a bit dazed, he rolled off Richard and looked around. Alex’s shoes were lying on the ground, smoking, where he threw them. His feet were a bit sore, but otherwise seemed okay. Emily, Buddy and Oscar were next to them, crouching under the sheltering ledge. The garage had no cars or trucks in it, but there was plenty there that could, and was, burning. All the windows had been blown out, as had the garage door. Twisted metal, once the elevator door, hung half-imbedded in a red brick wall.

  Alex lay next to Richard, their faces separated by little more than an inch. “Thanks,” he said. His voice sounded muffled and distant. The blast concussion must have affected his hearing.

  The room was quickly filling up with pungent black smoke that burned when inhaled. Alex turned to the others. “Let’s get out of here!” he said, coughing between words, as he scrambled to a crouching position. Buddy was already dashing out the door. Nobody had to tell him what needed to be done.

  Richard was up and moved over to Oscar. Alex grabbed one of Oscar’s arms as Richard grabbed the other and they dragged more than carried Oscar toward the blown-out garage door. Alex had his shoes in his free hand.

  Emily ran ahead to the threshold and looked around. She pointed to the left and disappeared around the corner. Alex and Richard were right behind her, struggling with Oscar’s considerable weight, panting and coughing. Emily disappeared into some trees, barely visible through all the haze, that stood next to the building. Some of the branches were smoldering. Moving deeper into the trees, away from the fire, the air was fresher and they slowed a little, allowing Oscar to support more of his own weight. Buddy stayed next to Emily, panting, ears up, attentive to his surroundings.

  “Jesus, Oscar,” said Alex. “Could you lose some weight?” They lowered Oscar to the ground and Alex collapsed next to him, panting hard.

  “I think I did,” said Oscar. “But it’s still in my pants. Damn! That was close! Do you think we were seen?”

  “I doubt it,” said Emily. “Not with all this smoke.” She crouched low, to remain hidden, and stuck her head out of the brush, looking toward the clearing that housed other buildings. There was a loud crash as the roof of the building they just escaped from collapsed into the flames. No one else seemed to be around.

  “Uh, Alex,” said Oscar, “your shoes are on fire.”

  Alex looked down at his shoes. They were still smoking. He reached down and ground them into the dirt. After pausing for a few moments to let them cool off, he put the shoes back on his feet. The soles were still intact, although significantly thinner, charred and cracked, but the heels were a smear of burned and melted rubber. There was no way he could walk, let alone run, in this undergrowth without something on his feet. They would have to do.

  Emily turned toward the deeper part of the woods. “Into the trees and try to stay out of sight,” she said. “I think we’re okay.”

  The air became quite cool. Alex could see stars through the leaves and he guessed it was some time in the wee hours of the morning. As they retreated deeper into the forest, they began hearing voices calling out in the distance. Every once in a while, they could see people through the foliage, silhouetted against the fires still burning in the garage. They slowly worked their way through the underbrush, trying to put distance between where they were and where they had been. After maybe a half-mile, they paused. Alex was worn out. He and Richard still supported Oscar and that was a lot of work. “Whoa, slow down,” he said, breathing heavily. “I need a rest.” He looked up at Emily. “You have any idea where we are?”

  Emily knelt in the bushes that surrounded them. “Do you remember the lake we saw when we were here with Armando? I think we’re headed toward it, but I can’t be sure before daylight,” she said. “Let’s rest here and hide until there’s enough light to see where we’re going. Dawn’s not far away, I think.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Richard as he collapsed. “Is everyone okay?” He, too, was panting hard. “Anybody badly burned? How’s your feet, Alex?”

  Alex lay back, staring up at the clear starry night sky. “I think they’re okay,” he said. They hurt some and the bottoms of his shoes were more like the soles of a pair of slippers, but he could get through the uneven ground, covered with stones and branches, without too much discomfort. He could struggle on.

  Oscar plopped down, no longer being supported. “Nothing wrong with me that pizza and beer can’t set right,” he said.

  “How’s your belly?” asked Alex. “Did we hurt you, dragging you around?”

  “I’m sore, but okay,” said Oscar. “I can walk on my own, but I can tell I’m not gonna be able to run for a while.” He put a hand over his surgical wound.

  “I think we did it,” said Alex with a note of incredulity. “One thing’s for sure. Nothing, including the virus, survived the heat of that blast.”

  . . .

  Alex woke to dim, cool, green light encased in morning mist. Someone was leaning over him, whispering hoarsely, something he couldn’t quite make out, and shaking his shoulder.

  “Wake up!” It was Richard.

  “Wha’? What’s going on?” Alex quickly came to his senses as the events of the past night came flooding back to him.

  “The sun’s up,” said Richard. “Emily’s taking watch and wants us ready to move.”

  Buddy was lying quietly next to Alex, as if waiting for direction. Alex didn’t even remember falling asleep. He must have been more tired than he realized. He saw Emily over to his right, crouched and staring through the trees toward what appeared to be a road. A single car wound its way toward the labs. Alex stood and moved toward Emily. His feet ached a little, but he could walk. He was stiff and hungry, but otherwise felt fine. After all that happened, it felt surreal.

  Before he could get to her, Emily stood straight up and walked casually toward the edge of the road.

  “What are you doing!” Alex called out to her in a raspy whisper.

  Emily kept her back to them and waved a hand backwards, motioning them to stay put.

  “What the hell is she doing?” Alex whispered to himself as he watched her go to the side of the road and raise her hand up in greeting as the car pulled alongside her. Alex, Richard and Oscar remained crouched in the bushes as she leaned in the passenger side window. Alex kept a tight hold on Buddy’s collar. There was a long pause when Alex didn’t take a breath. He braced himself for a mad dash to come to her aid, but nothing happened. Ten or fifteen minutes must have elapsed and Emily still stood next to the car, talking to the driver. Then, Emily stood up, looked down the road and quickly ran back to them, bent over low. Another car appeared in the distance. The car she had been standing next to started back down the road in the direction it had been going.

  Emily collapsed next to them. “Down!” she said.

  Alex complied and turned toward her. “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “Didn’t you recognize the car?”

  “What?”

  “It was Armando.”

  “Ohhh…”

  “He’s going to help us.”

  “Why? How can we trust him?”

  “I told him I was working with the FBI and we were being hunted by some very bad people.”

  “And he bought that?”

  “Why not, it’s true.”

  Alex shook his head, then looked back into Emily’s eyes. He stared for a few seconds. She didn’t blink. “You mean you have been working for the FBI?”

  Emily took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. “The Deputy Director, Brent Shannon, found out Doug had been black-list
ed. When he tried to find out more, he was told by the Director, in no uncertain terms, to leave it alone. Shannon knew Doug and became very suspicious. But he didn’t know if Doug was involved in something illegal or if he was being set up. He knew I’d worked with Doug and asked me to find out what I could. You know the rest.”

  “Emily, those are the guys that’ve been after us!” said Alex.

  “No, not all of them. Mostly the upper echelon, I think. I’m pretty sure Shannon’s okay.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Alex shook his head. “No more secrets, okay, Emily?”

  “Right,” she replied.

  There were a few moments of silence. Oscar finally broke it. “So, what’s the plan? Is Armando going to come back and drive us out of here?”

  “Armando says this place is locked down,” said Emily. “There’s a roadblock down at the entrance and fire and police are searching through the rubble up at the garage. As far as he knows, no one’s looking for us. I haven‘t seen any evidence of search parties out hunting for us, either. They probably think we were killed in the blast - God knows we should’ve been. I’m guessing they bottled the place up just to keep it as quiet as they can while they do damage control. Just the same, there’s no way in hell we can just drive out of here.”

  “We can’t just stay out here in the trees,” said Oscar. “I’m getting hungry. Armando didn’t have any pizza, did he?”

  “Armando says there’s an island in the middle of the reservoir, just over there.” Emily waved her right arm downhill to the left. “He’ll meet us on the shore tonight and take us there in a boat. Until then, we’re going to be hungry and thirsty. I suggest we find a well-hidden place to sleep until he gets to us.”

  “Do you really think he’ll help us?” asked Alex. “Can we trust him?”

  Emily smiled. “Yeah. He’ll help.”

  Alex wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

  . . .

  The bow of the aluminum rowboat ground onto the muddy beach of Deer Island. Beach, that was a misnomer - a barely foot-wide stretch of bare earth disappearing into trees and undergrowth that marched almost into the lake.

  Alex stepped out into shallow water. Grabbing supplies from the boat, he ferried them to the thin shoreline. Armando had been more than true to his word. He brought tents, sleeping bags, boxes of water bottles, fast food, sandwiches, even some dry dog food, and, on Emily’s request, a cell phone with a prepaid account.

  The boat empty, Armando returned to the opposite shore to pick up the others who waited there. Alex stood and looked around him. Trees everywhere. None with the large bole of old growth, but all buried in dense undergrowth. This was not going to be easy, but they did have a few hours to find a good place to hole up for a few days. After that, well, they would just have to see. Alex found himself again in a holding pattern, not knowing what lay ahead, and having no particular plan of action. It didn’t feel as threatening now as it had before, although the prospective possibilities still loomed dark.

  Alex walked inland a few yards and found a spot where the undergrowth was a bit thinner, and easily trampled, under an arboreal umbrella that would help shield their campsite from above. He returned to the water’s edge to begin carrying supplies back to the spot. The distance across the water was not far, and the others were approaching in the boat as he pushed his way through the bushes.

  “I found a small clearing we can use to camp in,” he whispered as he grabbed the bow of the boat and helped pull it on to the shore. The water soaked his feet. The soles of his shoes, now porous and full of holes, provided little barrier to the world underfoot. He was glad he didn’t have to walk far. Maybe Armando could get him another pair of shoes.

  Emily turned to Armando. “Thank you so much. You are a life-saver,” she said to him. “You are helping the right people. Be careful, don’t let anyone know you’re helping us. It would be dangerous for you. I’m sure many of the people around here are part of the conspiracy, but I don’t know who.”

  “I trust you, Emily,” said Armando. “I will help how I can. And maybe, when this is over, you will come with me to a concert?”

  Emily smiled at him. “That would be nice,” she said. She turned and looked at the gear on the beach. “Where’s that cell phone you got for me?”

  Alex helped Emily from the boat. “It‘s over there with the rest of the gear.” He waved an arm at the pile of equipment still on the beach. “What’s it for? Who’re you going to call?”

  “The FBI, of course,” said Emily. Alex helped Richard get Oscar out of the boat - a job considerably harder than getting Buddy across the lake. Buddy jumped out of the boat as if he were on a lark. Oscar still moved awkwardly due to his pain and they nearly overturned the boat as he stepped ashore.

  “Armando,” said Emily, “we may need more supplies in a couple of days. I don’t know when we’ll be picked up. Can you return with food and water in two days?”

  “And could you get me another pair of shoes?” asked Alex. “Size ten.”

  “I will do it,” Armando said.

  “Alright. Shove off now before you’re noticed. We’ll meet you here at one AM, day after tomorrow,” said Emily.

  “Right,” said Armando, as they pushed the bow into the water. “Maybe then you can tell me more about what’s going on.”

  “For now,” said Emily, “you’re better off not knowing.”

  Armando seemed to accept that. He slid off into the veil of darkness without another word.

  Alex led the way to the clearing, walking close beside Emily. “I know we owe Armando a lot for his help, but if you’re going to a concert with him, I’m going too.”

  Emily turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing. She turned her gaze back front, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.

  Once in the clearing, Richard and Alex set up camp, Oscar helped as much as he could. “God bless Armando,” he said as he noshed on a slice of pizza and sipped on a can of beer. In between bites and sips, he was rolling out sleeping bags in the tents that Richard and Alex set up.

  Alex gave Emily the cell phone and she was meandering around, looking for a hot spot. She finally stopped mid-clearing and punched a few keys. “I’m dialing a phone number Agent Shannon gave me as an emergency retrieval option,” she said when she noticed Alex watching what she was doing.

  “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” asked Alex. “Isn’t it going to get us caught?”

  “Not everybody in the FBI is a bad guy,” said Emily. “I trust Shannon.”

  “Emily,” said Alex. “Maybe we should talk about this first…”

  “Too late,” she said. “It’s done. The phone is being answered by a machine and I just enter a code…” Emily tapped more keys. “…and the GPS location of the phone is recorded.” Emily stood, looking at the phone for a few seconds. “That’s it,” she said at last. “Shannon now has our location and he should be sending in the troops to retrieve us.” Emily put the phone in her pocket and went over to the others to finish camp set-up.

  “God, I hope you’re right about this.” Alex, once again, wondered what would happen next.

  . . .

  Alex lay in his sleeping bag, gazing out through the tent door toward the center of the clearing. He was finding it hard to fall asleep. His wake/sleep cycle had been seriously messed with over the past few days and he wasn’t at all tired. He could hear Oscar snoring away in the tent to his left and silence came from Richard’s tent. Emily, who was set up a little away from the rest, seemed to be stirring in her tent. Before long, she backed out the door and pulled her bag after her. I wonder what she’s doing? Alex thought. Emily stepped toward the edge of the clearing closest to the lake, carrying her sleeping bag, and disappeared into the brush.

  Alex lay there for a few minutes, then curiosity got the best of him and he followed after her. As he approached the shore, he could hear soft splashes coming from the water. As the lake came into view, the early morni
ng moonlight revealed a shining portrait of Emily, nude, thigh deep in the lake, splashing water on herself. Her gracefully curved back was to Alex. The well-defined muscles of her torso rolled in sensuous waves accented by shiny diamonds of water as she moved. Black hair fell in wet rivulets to her upper back. Alex watched quietly in the bushes for a moment, then stepped into view. Emily must have sensed his presence as she turned and faced him. A nearly full moon shown dimly down on her wet breasts, nipples erect, her hands hanging limply by her sides.

  They stood there, looking at one another for a few seconds, until the silence was finally broken by Emily. “I couldn’t stand not having a bath anymore. I had to come down and at least rinse off. Should’ve asked Armando to bring soap.”

  Alex said nothing. He simply stared at her naked beauty, water slowly running down the muscled contours of her body. Her dark hair hung wet on her shoulders, a few strands winding down over one breast, pointing at her nipple. “Come on in,” she said, “the water’s a little chilly, but it’s cleaner than we are.”

  Alex stood where he was, enjoying the view.

  “Alex,” said Emily, “if you’re going to make love to me, I insist you at least rinse off some of that soot and sweat.” She playfully splashed a handful of water in his direction.

  Alex did not need a second invitation.

  . . .

  Alex rolled over and lay on his back, looking up at the stars. The nearby water lapped gently at the shore. Emily found a nice spot to roll out her sleeping bag, he decided. Dawn was not far away. He moved a sweaty arm under Emily’s shoulders and pulled her toward him. She rolled over on her side, pressing her breasts against him and languishing a naked thigh over his lower body. “Hmmm…” she said. “That was delicious.”