Tainted Cure (The Rememdium Series Book 1)

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Tainted Cure (The Rememdium Series Book 1) Page 6

by Ashley Fontainne


  Everett reached out to grab the handful of papers but stopped short. An overwhelming sense of fear ambled up his spine. The thought of turning the interior light on made his stomach clench as paranoia set in. “Just tell me the specifics of the communications, Riverside.”

  “These are email exchanges between Dr. Flint and someone named B.S.N. They go all the way back to the day after the discovery last year. Discussions about the cure, how the test subjects reacted to treatment, everything. Though I only heard her side of the conversation, it was apparent she was to shut down the operation, get rid of the formula and evidence, including us, and leave before we had a chance to share the discovery with the press next week.”

  Everett felt the air leave his lungs. The throbbing in his head was a fleeting memory, overshadowed by raw terror thrumming inside his chest. “Oh, my God. What about the formula? Please don’t tell me all our hard work is lost!”

  Riverside smiled for the first time during their conversation while patting the bag on the seat. “Don’t worry, I’ve got five full vials right here. I also have a flash drive containing all of our notes on formula 10,899. The lab may be gone, but our work isn’t. Even if we lost the vials, we can simply create a new batch.”

  Everett tried to quell the anxiety inside his mind. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the fear down deep and counted to ten. “Okay, let me think for a minute. What time is it?”

  “A little after four a.m.”

  “And we’re almost to Laredo, correct? You’ve been driving the entire time?”

  “Yes. Only stopped twice for gas.”

  “So, where was our starting point?”

  Riverside snickered. “You mean you don’t know?”

  Everett shook his head.

  “Wow, all these years you’ve worked at the lab and had no clue where you were?”

  Irritated, Everett snapped, “I was busy doing research, Riverside. Trivial things like my location didn’t rank high enough on my priority list. Where did we come from?”

  “Arkansas. The lab was underground in the Ozark Mountains about fifty miles south of Blanchard Springs Caverns, to be exact.”

  Stunned, Everett mumbled, “I’ve been in Arkansas all this time? Unreal.”

  For a few minutes, neither man said a word. Everett’s head was still pounding and he felt a bit lightheaded from lack of food and water. “Please tell me we at least have some water.”

  Riverside turned around and fumbled under the seat. He produced a plastic bottle and handed it to Everett. Though he wanted to gulp down the entire sixteen ounces, Everett only took a few sips.

  Just like the day he found out his entire family had died, a dark cloak of uncertainty draped over Everett’s mind. The implications of what Riverside told him were almost too much for Everett’s brain to comprehend and it wasn’t just from the bump on his head. He took one last drink and twisted the cap back on.

  “Okay, son. Guess it’s just you and me for the moment. First of all, thank you for saving my life—and our work. Secondly, tell me why in the hell we’re heading to Laredo. Thirdly, do so while driving. The thought of staying stationary makes me uncomfortable.”

  Riverside nodded and started up the truck. In seconds, the road whizzing by in a blurred rush, they passed a sign welcoming them to Webb County, Texas.

  Clearing his throat, Riverside finally answered Everett’s question. “Figured both of our homes weren’t a safe choice to head to. You know, since we really don’t have a clue who’s behind all this. My uncle died last year and he left me a cabin outside of Laredo. It’s near the Mexican border. No one but my family knows about the place, and, well, technically he wasn’t my uncle. He’s really my mother’s ex-boyfriend, but we stayed in touch over the years. He never remarried or had any kids, so he left what he had to me. If my gut feeling is right—which it usually is—the government is behind all this, so they’ll be searching for us once they realize we made it out alive. We might not be able to stay at the cabin long, but at least maybe enough time to gather ourselves together and form a workable plan.”

  Everett wanted to argue with the kid yet the moment, he didn’t have the mental faculties to formulate a better plan of action. A nagging sense of distrust rumbled around in his mind. It took him a few minutes to pinpoint the reason. Thoughts raced inside at a blistering pace, so he forced them to slow down.

  The time.

  That’s what was bothering him. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since he’d left Susan and the others. Even though Everett was only a few months’ shy of sixty-five, he was in good health. There simply was no way a bump on the head would have rendered him unconscious for such a long time period. He had to have been drugged.

  So who the hell did it?

  The realization made the distrust and unease in his gut increase.

  Without all the real facts to review, it was impossible for Everett to know if he should really trust anyone at this point, even Riverside.

  “Fine. Just stay under the speed limit and adhere to all traffic laws. By now, this vehicle is probably listed as stolen.”

  SHOWDOWN IN LAREDO - Friday - December 18th – 10:00 p.m.

  The two-room cabin was situated on a small rise overlooking the Rio Grande. The arid, open landscape was full of short, scrubby plants that looked more like bushes than trees. The sparse scenery did nothing to help quell Everett’s fears of being discovered.

  Ever since their arrival two days prior, Everett had been on constant edge. Rather than sleep, he took catnaps lasting less than an hour. He was exhausted physically yet his mind refused to shut down.

  Riverside tried his best to make Everett comfortable, answering all the rapid-fire questions Everett threw at him with his usual flair for humor. Though aware Riverside was probably trying to help ease Everett’s worried mind, the casual way the kid answered his questions set Everett’s nerves on edge.

  Everett faked falling asleep earlier on the bed, waiting for Riverside to do the same. His plan was to hold still until Riverside was in deep REM sleep and then snatch the keys and backpack. Doubt festered inside his mind about his companion’s true motives until Everett couldn’t stand another minute locked inside the cabin.

  The first inkling something was amiss happened inside the truck on the way to the cabin. The second one arrived when they settled themselves inside the dusty place and Everett asked to read the emails. Riverside agreed, but kept requesting help settling in. After locating the candles, checking for snakes, and unloading the truck, Everett asked again. Riverside said to wait until he used the bathroom so they could go over them together.

  While waiting for Riverside to relieve his bladder and bowels, Everett sat down to catch his breath and promptly fell asleep. When he woke up less than two hours later, he damn near pissed himself when he realized he was alone. Three hours later, Riverside rolled up, the backseat full of groceries.

  Once the supplies were stowed away, Everett requested the pages again. Riverside changed the subject and started talking about what happened while cleaning and bandaging Everett’s head. The knowledge Riverside was dodging the request was the final straw, and Everett hadn’t asked again. Instead, he decided to pump the kid for as much information as he would give, pretending to forget about the emails.

  A lone coyote howled outside, making the hairs stand erect on his arms. He pushed the weird noise aside and concentrated on Riverside’s breathing. Sweat pooled under his armpits and formed on his brow while he stared at a stained spot on the ceiling. Never, in his whole life, had Everett ever been the kind of man one would consider stealthy, deceitful, or capable of violence. Carol used to tease him, calling him her gentle teddy bear.

  Everett had given serious thought to confronting Riverside physically. They were close to the same height and weight. The major difference between the two was the thirty-year age span. Everett had stolen peeks around the cabin in search of a weapon to balance out the gap. The only thing he noticed in plain sight was a set of steak kni
ves on the counter. He dismissed the idea of grabbing one as soon as it popped into his mind. Everett was a typical nerdy scientist, one holding dual degrees in both microbiology and chemistry. Other than testing animals at laboratories—and only done so to confirm results—he’d never physically harmed another living creature. Everett doubted he possessed the skills to carry out his mental plans to overpower and possibly kill Riverside.

  The only other option available to make his escape was stealth. Tonight, he had no choice but to embrace the darker side of his personality if he planned on making it out of the cabin, and Texas, alive. His gut instincts warned the clock was ticking precious seconds away, counting down until his time breathing air ceased.

  With slow, calculated movements, Everett inched his body up into the sitting position. He winced and held his breath when the old wood underneath the mattress creaked. Eyes already accustomed to the dark interior, he scanned the entire space, which wasn’t more than six-hundred square feet—tops. Pausing to ensure the kid was still out, his gaze settled on the strap of the backpack poking out from underneath the bunk Daryl slept on. The keys were clipped onto a hook on the bottom of the satchel.

  He’d already calculated how many steps it would take to reach the bag then exit the cabin. The front door hinges were in desperate need of oil and made a tremendous racket when opened, so Everett opted to slip out the window next to his bunk. Each time Daryl had stepped into the restroom or went outside to retrieve something from the truck, Everett inched the window open a bit further. Only a few more inches and he could slip through with ease.

  Without taking his focus off Riverside, he stood and stretched his arms across the expanse of the bed. His fingers found the window. Taking in a deep breath to steady his hands, he pushed the pane all the way open.

  Riverside never moved or changed his respirations.

  Nervous sweat dripped into his eyes, making them burn. Just as he reached up to wipe his sticky brow, movement to the right caught his attention. Heart pounding, Everett dropped into a crouch and squinted out the window. His mouth went dry when he realized headlights shimmered in the distance.

  And someone stood less than twenty feet from the window, the shape of an automatic weapon in their hands unmistakable from the light of the silvery moon’s rays.

  He could hear the sounds of the vehicle’s engine now, and apparently, so did the intruder outside. The body went into a crouch then Everett lost sight of him.

  Terror kept Everett’s mouth shut as he crawled across the dirty wood floor over to Daryl’s bed. For a split second, he considered not waking the kid up, warning him things were about to get ugly. The fleeting thought left as quickly as it appeared. Everett wasn’t wired that way. Even if Riverside was hiding something from him, he couldn’t leave him helpless and alone.

  Finally next to the bed, Everett reached up and clamped his hand over Riverside’s mouth. “Daryl, wake up. We’re in trouble. Don’t say a word, but someone is outside, armed, and a vehicle is approaching in a big hurry.”

  Riverside’s eyes flew open at the same moment his body jerked awake. He locked gazes with Everett, nodded once, and then reached a hand down and grabbed the bag.

  “Come on, we can go out back. On the count of three.”

  Rather than panic and jump from the bed, Riverside simply bent over and laced up his tennis shoes. Stunned by the slow movements, Everett stared at the kid, mouth agape from shock. He wondered if Riverside was fully awake or still experiencing some sort of sleep-induced funk.

  The sound of the engine roaring across the plains grew louder, the headlights bathing the interior of the cabin in bright, white light. They illuminated Riverside’s face and to his disbelief, Everett noticed the kid was grinning from ear to ear.

  He knew then his gut instincts about Dr. Daryl Riverside were right on target.

  “Get up, Dr. Berning. Our ride is here. Don’t worry, they aren’t going to harm you. Well, at least not as long as you follow their instructions. Veer from them, or try something stupid like running away, then all bets are off.”

  There was no way Everett would leave the world on all fours like a coward. He stood and wiped the dust from his jeans and shirt. “It was you, wasn’t it? Not Dr. Flint.”

  “Yep. Life’s all about the Bennies, Dr. Berning. All about the Bennies.”

  “Bennies?”

  Riverside stood and slung the pack over his shoulders. “Money you fool. You have no idea how glad I am this is over! God, I was so sick of being stuck in both hellholes with you! I gave up five years of my life waiting for this moment. Ten million dollars seemed like a tremendous amount at the time. However, considering the mental anguish I suffered while underground, I think I might negotiate for more.”

  Instead of feeling terrified, Everett was livid. “You piece of shit! You killed them all, wasted all your talents to help your fellow man for money? Now I know why you picked this location. You’re working with some cartel, aren’t you? Has that been your plan all along?”

  Riverside laughed as he moved across the floor to the front door. He unclipped the keys from the pack and unlocked the door. “Yep. Oh, and handing you over to them was part of the deal, too. I mean, they couldn’t turn down the opportunity to have the man who almost eradicated addiction on their team! You’ll be working for them now, just not in the capacity you’d expect. They plan on having you…”

  The treacherous bastard never had a chance to finish his words. A bullet ripped through the front door and tore open the right side of the boy’s face before Everett really comprehended what happened. Riverside’s body flew back about five feet then crumpled to the ground at the same time the door burst open. A large man, dressed in all black from head to toe, crouched down and jerked the keys from Daryl’s dead corpse.

  “If you don’t want the assholes coming up the road to do the same to you, follow me. Now.”

  Everett was cornered and knew he had no choice but to comply. He didn’t look at Daryl’s body on the floor as he ran past it, yet he paused to snatch up the bag with the formula. A strong arm yanked him away and shoved him out the front door toward the passenger door of the truck he’d arrived in with Daryl. The man who just saved his life tossed his gun and bag on the floor then fired up the truck just as the sound of pings bounced all around.

  “Hurry! Those ain’t bees they’re bullets!”

  Yanking the door open, Everett leapt inside when a bullet tore through his calf muscle. He screamed in agony yet managed to get his entire body inside and shut the door.

  “Hang on.”

  In a haze of pain and shock, Everett yanked off his shirt and used it as a tourniquet over the oozing wound in his leg. The truck bounced and bumped its way through the uneven terrain. Once his leg was secure, he turned and looked out the back window, thankful the nameless driver had seemed to outmaneuver the vehicle behind them. From the rumbles of the engine, Everett could tell the man was pushing the Dodge to its limit.

  Unwilling to interrupt the man’s concentration on the task at hand, Everett remained silent while watching the headlights fade into the distance. In minutes, the view out the back window was black.

  As the adrenaline rush wore off, a wave of dizziness made the interior of the truck spin. To keep his mind engaged, Everett asked, “I’d sort of like to know the name of the man who just either saved my life, or is the next one in line trying to end it. You know, so I can know who to come back and haunt when I’m dead or name my next kid after, whichever way this crazy night turns out.”

  Without taking his eyes off the road, the man grumbled, “You don’t recognize me, Dr. Berning? Wow, I’m crushed.”

  Stunned, Everett couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and peering closer. He recognized the deep baritone voice, and confirmation he was right was made by the green light of the dashboard. Though it had been months since the last time they’d met in person, the man’s distinctive voice gave him away. A verbal explosion of questions tumbled from Everett’s m
outh. “Dirk Kincanon? Holy shit! Did Dr. Thomas send you? Oh, please tell me he’s okay? What about Dr. Flint and all those poor people in the lab? How in the world did you find us?”

  “GPS.”

  “Huh, oh, you mean on the truck?”

  “Yes. When I couldn’t reach Dr. Thomas, I located his vehicle. Knew things had gone sour when it showed up in Texas. Rest, Dr. Berning. Tend to your leg. There’s a medical kit in my bag. Get yourself patched up properly and let me get us out of this fucking state then we’ll talk.”

  The sense of dread that had been Everett’s constant companion for the last two days intensified. He rifled through the bag in the floorboard, grateful the wound was to his calf muscle and not a major organ.

  “One more question then I promise I’ll be quiet. Where are we going?”

  The strong jaw line on Dirk’s face flexed with irritation. “Arkansas, of course. The estate of Dr. Jason Thomas to be exact. It’s too risky to head back to the lab right now. I don’t know exactly how much Riverside told his partners.”

  Everett let out a small sigh of relief. “The lab’s intact?”

  Dirk glanced over and let a snide grin appear. “You just asked another question.”

  “Can you blame me? I feel like I’ve been transported to an alternate reality. Knocked unconscious, kidnapped, almost killed—that’s just the short list of fucked-up shit on my plate. Oh, and my leg is throbbing and I believe I’m suffering from a massive case of shock. Cut me some slack, will you?”

  “Sit back and try to relax. We’ll head to the lab once I’m sure it’s safe to do so. In the meantime, we’ll hunker down at Dr. Thomas’ place. It’s a fortress. We’ll be safe there. I assure you no one gets inside unless I want them to.”

  Everett felt a lump of tears gather in his dry throat. He had the answer to his questions about Dr. Thomas and the others. Dirk didn’t need to spell out the fact all of the others were dead. Instead of succumbing to the emotions of the situation, he bent down and concentrated on binding his leg. He fought the urge to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the notion he would forever carry a scar from being shot.

 

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