by Max Dune
I sigh, exhaling white puffs into night air. Passing the laboratory, I throw it a sidelong glance and wonder what I’ll find hidden there. More answers to this puzzle or more danger? With all that’s happened recently and all I’ve uncovered so far, I’d wager both.
I stop and stare at the dark windows. I have an urge to break in right this minute, but the sound of feet crunching on the snow grabs my attention. A guard is just rounding the corner. I hustle back into the shadows. Unlike the mailroom, the laboratory is a busy place these days. I could get caught if I’m not careful.
One way or another, though, I will find out what secrets are being hidden there. Just not tonight.
* * *
I awake the next morning to shouts and commotion. My eyes snap open, and I turn over to take in the scene. A nurse is wrestling with one of the other patients, who is swinging his arms in the air and thrashing like crazy in bed.
“It hurts!” he says, moaning over and over.
The nurse presses the call button by his bed. “I know, sweetheart. We’re going to give you a morphine shot, okay? Just hang on for a bit,” she says, placing her hand on his cheek to quiet him.
He keeps groaning in misery but manages to lower his arms, rubbing them vigorously against the plastic-covered mattress. He must have a fever; his pale face is glistening with sweat.
I watch gloomily as the burse brushes damp black hair from his eyes, then injects the painkiller Doc Billings brings a couple minutes later.
The sick one settles down, his eyelids fluttering closed.
I bite my lower lip and turn away. It is such a pitiful sight.
Doc notices I’m awake and walks over, his shoes tapping dully across the linoleum floor. “Good morning, Lucian,” he says.
“Morning,” I murmur, as there’s no such thing as “good” right now.
“How are you feeling today?”
I glance at the red-haired elf. “Better than I deserve.”
He follows my gaze for a moment, then turns back to me, pained. “I don’t think anyone here deserves the cards they’ve been dealt.”
“Life’s got too many jokers up its sleeve, Doc,” I say. “Or at least it seems that way.”
Doc ponders my statement. He looks like he’s about to say something, but before he opens his mouth, his cell phone dings with a text message alert. He checks it. Instantly, his expression tightens. He excuses himself and leaves with a quick patter out of the ward.
Whatever he read, it must have been serious. It doesn’t have anything to do with me, does it? Did Oleg text him about my moonlight stroll?
I worry for a moment, then relax. Somehow I doubt it. Oleg seemed to buy my sob story. Besides, the chief guard has bigger problems on his hands right now. Jack Frost is still out there, after all.
Another set of footsteps disturbs my rest, different from Doc’s or the nurse’s. I turn to look, and my heart skips a beat. “Lily!” I gesture her over.
She hurries to me, returning my goofy grin, carrying a plastic container in her hands. Her face glows serenely. “Hi.”
“You’re here,” I respond, still smiling.
She sits on my bed and places the container on her lap. “I decided to sneak in a quick visit before work. You’re not too tired, are you? If you are, I can return later.”
“No, no, please stay.” I reach out and take her hand in mine. I bring it to my lips and kiss it softly.
She blushes a bit, glancing at the two nurses in the ward. They must sense our desire for solitude, because they look at each other, grab their clipboards, gives us a sly wink, then exit.
We chuckle to ourselves.
Eyeing the container, I ask, “What you got there?”
She shakes her head playfully. “Take a guess.”
“Magazines?”
“No.”
“A puppy?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Yellow snow?”
She punches my side. “Don’t be gross.”
“Come on!” I beg. “I’m not good at this.”
“Oh, all right, you party pooper.” She does a drum roll against the container, then takes off the lid. “Ta-da!”
The second the aroma hits my nostrils, my mouth starts to water. Inside are warm, steamy waffles topped with glazed strawberries. I could almost cry in this moment. I really could. “I...love...you.”
She just laughs. “Are you talking to me or the waffles?”
“Um, you?”
“Liar.” She hands me a plastic knife and fork.
I take several bites of the moist pastry. It’s so delicious. Then I look up at Lily and feel a pang of guilt. “Want some?”
“No, I’d rather watch you,” she says.
“Really? Why?”
“You’re cute when you eat.”
My forehead warms with embarrassment. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s true,” she says earnestly.
I change the subject. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“When is Doc releasing you?”
“Tomorrow, at the earliest,” I grumble. “I begged him to let me go earlier, but he won’t budge on that.”
“I can’t say I disagree with his decision. You need time to heal.”
“You say that because you don’t have stay here all day.”
At that, she loses her smile. I can almost read her mind: “No, but I may have to in the near future.” As much as we both want to ignore the awful reality, we cannot. We’re going to have to discuss it. Still, I’m cautious about getting into it.
“Tell me how you’ve been,” I venture.
She waves the question away with her hand. “Later.”
I have to stand firm. “No, now.”
She sighs, her dazzling eyes shining.
“Things haven’t changed. I get hand trembles once or twice a day. It usually happens toward the end of my work shift.” She shrugs. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you in pain?”
“No, I feel okay.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“I’m telling you the truth!” she insists.
“Okay, okay. I just...I worry about you,” I confess.
I want to tell her about my other concerns, about the discovery I made at the mailroom earlier and about the countless children who’ve been defrauded over the years—quite likely by some of our co-workers. But how can I tell Lily without endangering her life? They could kill her, as Frost warned. Whoever “they” are.
“I know. I know that,” she says. Now it’s she who changes the topic. “What are your plans after you leave this place? Going back to chopping?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“You could return to your old department, make crossbows again. You’re one of the best toymakers, Lucian.”
I give a wry smile. “Not sure if I’d classify a crossbow as a toy.”
“Well, you know what I mean. You should consider it. Remember how much you loved the work?”
I can’t argue with her. I’ve been missing my old job. I do love to build things, to work with my hands and power tools. There is something so uniquely satisfying about creating. I’m not sure, but maybe my adventure out in the wild brought that passion back. “I’ll think about it,” I say.
She brightens. “Really?”
I nod. “Yeah. It might be—”
Suddenly my face twists in horror; blood has begun trickling from Lily’s nose.
“What?” she asks, worried.
My heart pounds in my ribcage. “Y-You’re bleeding.”
She brushes a hand across her upper lip, removing the small scarlet trail. She stares at her hand calmly, much too calmly.
Doesn’t she realize what this means? A nosebleed! The second stage of the virus. Third is seizures. And fourth? Fourth is...death.
I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. “I’ll call the nurses. They might be able to help.”
Lily appears lost in another world. She just stares at her bl
ood-smeared fingers. “If you say so.”
I force my shaky hand to grab the call button and keep clicking it until both nurses rush in. They take Lily to an unoccupied bed and instruct her to tilt her head forward, then pinch the soft part of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. While she does that, they apply ice packs to her cheeks. In no time, the bleeding stops.
This does little to appease my anxiety. How much has she really been hiding from me? How much longer before the seizures start? Weeks? Days? Hours?
It’s impossible to guess. The virus progresses a little differently for everyone.
I remain quiet while the nurses tend to her. My thoughts wander to the glass vial hidden under my pillow. I want to trust what Frost told me; I even consider how to secretly slip the potion into Lily’s drink. The thought of healing her is so tempting, so excruciatingly attractive...yet the tiniest shred of doubt still lingers in the back of my head. Until I can abolish all mistrust, I can’t give Lily the potion in good conscience. I need more proof, more assurance that Frost is not just up to his crooked games. Which means there is one more thing I must do: I have to break into that lab.
I begin formulating a plan.
Once the nurses remove the ice packs, Lily gets back to her feet and returns to me. “I should get going. My shift starts soon.”
The head nurse shakes her head. “As a precaution, you should take the morning off. If you experience another nosebleed, take the whole day off.”
From the frown on her face, Lily doesn’t like that suggestion at all. “But my department—”
“They will manage just fine, dear. Now go back to your room and rest.”
With that, the nurse leaves.
Lily steps back over and plops back down on my bed. “So much for my plan,” she mutters.
“What plan?”
She gives me a weak smile. “I wanted to cheer you up.”
I squeeze her hand. “I am glad you came. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She squeezes my hand. “Anyway, I really should go.”
Leaning toward me, she gives me a quick kiss and stands back up.
“Will you come visit again?” I ask. “Maybe tonight?”
I should have the intel I need by that time. If Frost’s story checks out, the healing potion will be all hers.
“Of course. I’ll be here.”
I nod, pleased. “I can’t wait.”
Another smile and she leaves. As much as I’d love to walk out with her and carry out my mission now, I have to stay put. With morning rounds going on, I can’t just slip out without anyone noticing. So I play the waiting game. For the next several hours, I am the ideal patient. I stay in bed the whole time, and I don’t complain about my grim surroundings or situation. On the contrary. I maintain an optimistic attitude, occasionally chatting with the nurses, throwing compliments their way. From their genuine smiles, I can tell they welcome the attention.
Thirty minutes before lunch, I make my move. I ask the nurses if I can eat in the cafeteria, telling them I’d love to see my friends again, that a little comradery would boost my morale, and so on and so forth. At first, they’re resistant to the idea, but I eventually coax them into it. Never underestimate the power of a smile and sad puppy eyes!
I change into my clothes, mindful to take the potion and tracker Frost gave me. I don’t need the nurses finding them during my absence. Outside, the sun hangs low in the blue sky and a small gust of wind blows past me, sending a shiver through me. I walk briskly through the village but change direction halfway to the cafeteria and head to the factory that makes flying toys. To sneak into the laboratory during the day, I’m going to need help. And that factory is where I’ll find the only elf crazy enough to give it to me.
Instead of making use of the front entrance, I walk around the building, to the side door Zeb uses, since it leads directly into his work area. I swipe my ID card. The door opens, and I slip inside. Grinding, whirring, and groaning engulf my ears. My gaze sweeps over the source, the sea of machinery around me. A conveyer belt squeaks along as it transports partially built airplanes, their wingless bodies gleaming under the fluorescent lights. I stare in fascination as robotic arms drop down with efficient precision and glue on the wings.
“Lucian?” I turn to find a surprised-looking Zeb. He’s wearing a light blue uniform and white hairnet. I smile at him. “In the flesh.”
“What are you doing here, bro?” he asks, frowning.
“I need talk to you.”
“Okay, sure.” He checks his watch. “But let’s talk about this while we eat. It’s ‘Mexico Festivo’ day and Daddy is ready for his burrito.”
I groan. “Please stop referring to yourself as Daddy. It’s creepy.”
“Daddy doesn’t care,” he replies.
Noticing Gordy walk by, Zeb turns and gives him a big wave. “Hey, thanks again for fixing the injector—it’s working like a charm now!”
Still sucking up to the choir director, I see. Gordy just nods at Zeb and walks away even faster. Still sucking up to the choir director badly.
Zeb turns back, losing his smile. “All I want for Christmas is for Gordy to choke on a taco.”
“Watch it,” I warn. “That’s going to put you on the naughty list.”
He snorts. “Like I give a rat’s tail.”
I chuckle. “You have serious issues, you know that?”
“Ugh. Now you sound like my therapist.”
“What? Therapist? We have therapists here?”
Zeb ignores me, still gazing at the disappearing Gordy maliciously, as if he’s trying to burn a hole in his rival’s head.
“You know what really gets me, though? It’s the arrogance—and total sense of delusion. That elf simply refuses to accept the truth.”
“Which is?” I ask, almost smirking.
He turns to me and speaks with complete sincerity. “I am a musical prodigy, and my gullet emits magic.”
I try to keep a straight face, not sure how well I succeed. “Well, maybe one day Gordy will see the light.”
“Let’s hope so.” He hits the red button by the conveyor with his fist, stopping it. “Anycrap. Let’s get going.”
“About that. We’re not going to lunch.”
He blinks. “Come again? No comida para Zeb?”
“It’s why I came here.” I pause. “I need you... to help me sneak into the laboratory.”
His expression goes through a series of contortions.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what?”
“I just need to check something.”
He waits several moments for me to explain. “Can you be a little more specific?”
“No. You’re just going to have trust me.”
“Listen, man, I trust you from here to the moon, but this stunt could get us in serious trouble.” He raises his hands and drops them at his side. “I need to know what I’m getting into.”
If there’s one thing I know about Zeb, it’s that he’s more stubborn a mule. He’s not going to budge. I’ll have to supply him with something more substantial. I decide to tell him part of the truth.
I take out the letters and hand them over. “Read them.”
“What is this?”
“Letters from kids.”
““Letters?” he says, crinkling his forehead. “Santa doesn’t do letters anymore. That’s for all those Gen-Xers and Baby Boomers, man. Good little millennials prefer email.”
“They’re from the old mailroom. I snuck into it last night and stole them.”
His voice goes up an octave. “You did what? Why?”
Here I must lie. As much I trust Zeb, I cannot blow Frost’s cover, or more importantly, mine.
“Because I was having these, um...dreams.”
Zeb nods slowly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, these really strange dreams I couldn’t shake off, telling me to search there, in the mailroom and lab. I thought I was going crazy, man. I really did, but when I checked it out, I found these
.”
He seems to believe me. “What do they say?”
“Apparently, kids aren’t receiving any toys. It seems this has been happening for years. The complaints go back a long time.”
He reflects on this. “That’s impossible.”
“Read them and see for yourself. Look at the dates.”
He peruses the first few letters in the pile. An array of emotions flicker across Zeb’s face as he reads them. Disbelief. Confusion. Anger. “How could this have happened?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I think the shipping department is involved. They’re the last ones to handle the toys.”
“That does make sense, I guess.” He frowns. “But how could they pull off something of this magnitude? And how have they kept it hidden for so long? Also, why would they do it? I mean, what would be the point?”
“I have no clue,” I admit. “But I think we’ll find the answers at the lab.”
“And why is that?”
“Because of my dreams, like I told you.”
He eyes me critically. “Dreams, huh?”
I nod, hoping he doesn’t call my bluff. “I know it sounds nuts, but I’m right about this. I’m on to something, Zeb. Please help me. I can’t do this alone.” I pause, then try adding more appeal to the proposition. “Plus, once we blow the lid off this thing, we’ll be heroes. Think about it, Zeb. Pepper will think you’re a hero.”
That clearly interests Zeb, and his face lights up. “And what girl can resist a hero, right?”
“Exactly.”
He mulls it over for several moments. “Okay. What do I have to do?”
I smile. “The thing you’re best at: distraction.”
“Excuse me?” he says, offended. “I’m best at enriching people’s lives through my raw talents, abundant humility and bubbly personality.”
“Fine. I need what you’re second best at.”
He accepts my correction. “Thank you. Now, illuminate.”
“It’s almost lunch,” I tell him. “Everyone, including the scientists, will be in the cafeteria. That’s my window of opportunity to sneak in. But there’s usually a guard stationed outside during the day. I need you to distract him for a bit. Can you do that?”
Zeb looks at the helicopters on a nearby desk, then turns to me with a wicked grin. “Oh, I think I can.”