by Jeannie Rae
The woman began to stir, making grumbling and gasping sounds. Her hands twitched and head swayed.
“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright,” Dave said leaning over her.
Suddenly, her eyes whipped open. They were black, like Garrison’s and half the other abominations in the bar. This is not happening. It can’t be.
CHAPTER TWO
FRIDAY 4:12 PM (3 HOURS AGO)
A woman in blue exited a red and black Mini Cooper within an airy parking garage. Slamming her door closed, she began rifling through her bag to locate the source of the obnoxious chirping that echoed throughout the otherwise silent structure.
“Hello, this is Dr. Brandenburg,” the woman declared pulling out a silver-backed cell phone.
“Mara, it is Edward, did you get the package?” A gruff voice demanded.
Of course it is, always so formal on the phone.
“Yes, Edward. I received it just before my appointment, maybe two hours ago,” she said. Her cap sleeved, indigo dress snugly hugged her slim body as she leaned her hip against the car.
“Where is it now?” He whispered.
“It's safe. I've got a handle on it,” drawing a crooked smile, she rolled her brown eyes and cocked her head. Her tousled, shoulder length, auburn locks bounced to the side.
“Listen Mara, I have not told you everything about this serum. It is of the utmost importance that you keep it—and our communication confidential. I am sending over an email right now. It is nearly all of the work I have done so far, including the trial testing and results. This will give you a clear picture of what it is intended for and the results it is producing at this time.”
“I hope that you trust that I’ll take good care of your precious serum. I’ll do my best to help you in reformulating it,” she softened her voice as she began walking toward the garage access doors.
“Mara, I do trust you and your work. It is just that,” he sighed. “This is my career on the line, and if anyone finds out that I have even spoken about this serum, let alone sent out a sample from the lab, it may be more than my career that is over.”
"Ed," Mara whispered calmly, “We'll figure this out. No one will ever have to know that I’m involved; we'll keep it covert, like back in college. Are you sure there isn’t something else that’s bothering you? You don’t sound like yourself,” she said, thumbing her car keys as she approached the building entrance.
“It’s Haley,” he responded.
“Your assistant?”
“Yes. I am working from home today, while she worked in the lab. She asked if she could leave early—a camping trip, in your neck of the woods Mara. I said that she could, but I needed her to drop off something of great importance on her way to Sandy Dunes Campground. That was hours ago. The delivery has not been made and I cannot get her on her cell,” Edward said with a sigh.
“You know what probably happened, right?” Mara probed.
“No, I do not. I have no idea. I cannot understand why she will not pick up the phone.”
“She was probably so excited to get out of the lab early that she forgot to deliver it. I bet you, she’s at her campsite right now with your delivery tucked in the trunk, and has completely forgotten about it. And the worst part is, there almost no cell reception in Sandy Dunes. She’ll remember it sooner or later and deliver it for you,” Mara reasoned.
“She checked out a lab vehicle for the weekend—for the delivery. I would imagine that when she looks at the car—that she would remember. I might have to take a trip of my own out there and collect it from her. She knew how important it was to make that delivery,” he said in disappointment.
“Do you want me to—” Mara began.
“No, I’ve asked too much of you already. Your time would be better spent on the serum. I’ll take care of it,” he said in a whisper. “So you have it in a safe place?”
“Yes. I do. My lab is in the basement. Rare is the day that anyone goes down there, except for my lab techs. Plus, my lab is an exploratory laboratory, making it even less appealing for the rest of the miracle workers around here. You have nothing to worry about. I kept them mislabeled the way you sent them to me, and even put hold tags on them. If by some chance, someone were to see them, they wouldn’t use them. The hold tag should convey that there is something wrong with the vaccinations. Relax. I’ll be in my lab in a couple minutes and will check your email then.”
Through the phone, Mara heard what sounded like a loud knock on a door. A very distinctive, hard and rapid pounding echoed.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Very good then, I will let you go so that you can take a look at it. I have to go anyway; there is someone at the door. I will call you tomorrow,” he paused for a moment, “If I have not heard from you first.”
Mara tapped her phone screen ending the call, tossing it in her bag. “He’s so dramatic, and could a contraction kill him? Drawing out his sentences…he sounds like a robot, sheesh.”
Looking at her silver wristwatch, the time read four-fifteen. She slung her bag over her shoulder and pressed on the glass, garage access doors of Angora Laboratories. Crossing the threshold into the building, a wave of frosty air enveloped her, as she approached the security counter a few feet within the second floor lobby.
“Junior, we seriously need to do something about this air conditioning. It's about a hundred and two degrees outside, and what fifty in here? It’s like going from Hell to Antarctica in two steps.”
“I know,” the security guard at the desk smiled, turning on the conveyor belt to the x-ray scanner. “It's the way the big man wants it, so we all have to adapt.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mara plopped her bag onto the conveyor and dropped her keys in a plastic tray. After walking through the metal detector, she retrieved her bag and keys on the other side. “See you later Junior.”
He flashed a smile back at her, “Have a lovely afternoon Dr. Brandenburg.”
By the time Mara had made it to her lab, her watch read four, twenty-two. Two stainless steel doors serve as the entrance to Mara's exploratory laboratory. An ID card reader to the right of the doors grant authorized entrance and a surveillance camera located in the upper right corner of the doorway is fed to three monitors that are situated throughout the lab and office to offer a view of rare visitors. Mara swiped her ID card through the card reader, the terminal bulb turning from a red glow to green. The only authorized Angora employees to enter her lab are Mara, her two techs, The Chairman, and Security. Pressing on the doors, they opened to a fresh, white, warm laboratory. She grinned to herself. Her lab is her responsibility. Every detail of her lab is monitored and tended to by her, including the climate. Just inside, her two lab techs were huddled together reviewing a document.
“Welcome, we thought you might be taking a day off or something,” the young man said, “I have the report you were expecting.”
He strode toward Mara, his white lab coat about two sizes too large, looking more like dress on him than a coat. The sleeves were cuffed up to the elbows, revealing the mass of tattoos that blanketed his forearms. Noticing his lime green mohawk appeared shorter than usual, instead of the typical three inch height, it looked to be about an inch and a half to Mara.
“You get a haircut, Lex?” Mara said smirking, taking the documents he held out to her.
“Yeah, I'm trying to look more distinguished,” he said rubbing his hand over his hair.
Looking down at the paperwork in her hand, she murmured, “It's working for you. Are you sure these are accurate?”
“We ran them three times, Mara.”
“Okay then, it looks like you have everything on track. You and Angie can move on to the next phase of testing. I have something that I need to work on in my office. I trust that you two can keep things going. I’ll be a while and can't afford any distractions,” Mara handed the paperwork back to Lex and headed toward her office.
“No prob Mara, just let us know if there
is anything you need or if we can help,” Lex said curiously.
“Thanks Lex, but I have it covered,” she said closing her office door behind her.
CHAPTER THREE
Roxanne Harper parked her vehicle in her garage, hanging the keys on the hook beside the door leading to the kitchen. Two excited Pit Bulls greeted her as she entered the house. They looked up at her anxiously, tails wagging with such fury that their whole back ends swung in unison. She dropped her faux suede purse inside the door and knelt down to pet them. Both dogs had the same markings, almost looking like twins, save for their colors. They each had a thin white line from the crown of their head to right above the nose, and a large white patch that stretched from under the chin to the bottom of their rib cage. Rogue, a rust color, encircled Roxy, seeming to prance all around, unable to keep still. Gypsy, more of a chalky-gray color, sat calmly as Roxy stroked her soft, short fir.
Roxy loved her dogs. Both were rescued from the local animal shelter about a year and a half ago, only weeks after her eighteenth birthday. They had previously been owned by a notorious dog fighter in the area, who had finally been arrested and charged. Seventeen dogs were seized and went through rigorous behavioral testing, before all being put up for adoption. Roxy had read all about the heartbreaking story in the newspaper. It had moved her in a way the defied explanation. The same day that the dogs were available for adoption, she drove to the shelter with her younger sister, Kate. They had elected to adopt Rogue, when they discovered Gypsy. The dog seemed so docile, as though she had an old soul. Roxy couldn’t resist rescuing her too. Their father had been displeased to discover that his daughters adopted two large dogs, but after the girls pleaded their cases, he gave them a chance. Roxy proved that not only had she been willing to take on the responsibility of caring for them, but the training as well.
Roxy strolled through the deserted kitchen and began sorting through the day’s mail on the counter. Hearing a door close down the hall and heavy footsteps drawing near, Roxy looked up in time to see her sister skip around the kitchen wall.
“Hey Kate, how did practice go?” Roxy asked.
“Practice was great. You are never going to guess what happened in fifth period today!” Kate said excitedly, pulling her headphones from her ears and looking up over the frames of her green trimmed sunglasses.
She stood a little over five foot tall, light complexioned with shoulder length, wavy, light brown hair. She wore a plain, white tee, under a lightweight, lime green zip-up hoodie, black skinny jeans and green-laced, high top sneakers.
“What?” Roxy enthusiastically asked, knowing that this would likely be an epic tale of so and so said this and so and so did that.
She listened as Kate went into how this latest mega-crisis could mean Social Armageddon. Roxy opened the refrigerator door and fished out a clear glass pitcher of orange juice, her other hand snagging two glasses from the overhead, oak cupboard. She poured them each a glass as she listened to Kate. They both sat on the wooden bar stools, each with an elbow on the ceramic tile counter, sipping their juice and talking about how crazy things have already been in the ninth grade, in the two weeks since the school year began.
Roxy and Kate hadn’t always got along with each other. Roxy, near then end of her teenage years and Kate on the cusp of becoming one, had clashed with one another. That all changed two years ago, when their lives were reshaped forever. Since then, they had begun to grow closer and be more supportive of one another. Roxy used to find discussions like this one about school with Kate, low on her priority list. Now, she makes time for Kate and enjoys the time she shares with her sister. She understands that this kid looks up to her and needs her to be there, and to listen.
Roxy rolled her right shoulder, her face wincing with discomfort.
Kate leaned in, “You okay?”
“Yeah, my shoulder is a little sore,” Roxy said rubbing her shoulder. She unbuttoned her brown shirt and slipped it off, revealing a black cotton tank top underneath, donning a bandage on her upper, right arm.
“Oh yeah, is that from the flu shot? Did you go get it today? Does it hurt?” Kate interrogated.
“Yes, yes and kinda,” Roxy smiled.
“You know, I waited for ages in that waiting room,” Roxy began, “I finally had to go ask about it, and they said they were all out of shots and trying to locate a back-up supply.”
“Really? That bites. How many people were still waiting?” Kate asked wide-eyed.
“Me and three others—all guys around Dad’s age. Maybe their bosses sent them to the flu shot clinic too. But I was leaving, literally—walking out the doors, when they called me back. Oh, lucky me. They said they found some more shots and here’s my bandage to prove it.” Roxy stopped short, as a rumbling could be heard echoing through the neighborhood.
“Dad’s here! Gotta go!” screeched Kate, grabbing a black, three-quarter motorcycle helmet adorned with twenty or so stickers that Kate had decorated herself. She skipped around the kitchen wall to the front door.
The door creaked open as Roxy rounded the wall trailing her sister. Kate left the door ajar, racing toward the gunmetal gray and chrome motorcycle pulling into the driveway. Roxy could feel the vibrations of the motorcycle engine pulsing through her feet and legs from the porch.
The front yard of Roxy's residence is rather bleak in comparison to the other homes in the area and is the most pitifully landscaped by far. The lawn out front is spotted with pale green sections, but for the most part is a crunchy yellow. A lone shrub in the corner of the yard is losing its leaves and turning brown from lack of water. Trace remnants of what once had been a flower garden remain at the edge of the lawn near the house.
Her father Joe, powered down the bike, flashing a lukewarm smile to Roxy, his eyes concealed beneath mirrored, wraparound shades.
“Hey Roxy, we gotta run, I’m starved. Are you sure you don’t want to come out to eat with us? We’re headed to the carnival afterward. We could take the car instead,” Joe said trying to entice her to come along, as he glanced at his watch.
“Nah, I’m good, Dad. Have a great time you two.”
“We will for sure, love ya!” Kate said bouncing onto the back of the motorcycle. She tapped her iPod, starting her playlist, and tucked the gadget into her back pocket.
“Love you too. Be safe,” Roxy watched them from the porch as the motorcycle powered back to life.
Joe backed it out of the driveway, with Kate’s skinny arms wrapped tightly around his midsection and took off down the street.
Closing the door, Roxy turned around to see her dogs sitting patiently at the entryway. She walked into the living room to the left of the entrance. It’s a comfortable space, with a wood burning fireplace at the far end of the room, surrounded by build in shelves, each lined with books and knick-knacks. Toward the front of the living room is a large bay window that offers a view of the front yard. The décor is warm, with elephants and giraffes, a safari theme of sorts. Her mother had decorated this room and the whole house, essentially.
Roxy unzipped the sides of her brown boots and pulled them from her feet, stuffing her black socks inside, and setting them on the wooden shoe rack next to the sofa. The chill from the cold, tile floor felt comforting beneath her bare feet. She rolled her shoulders and leaned her head side to side, popping her neck twice. Exhausted, she plopped down on the plush, copper sofa, her two dogs following her each step of the way. Swinging her legs up onto the couch, she leaned against the armrest. Both dogs jumped up, Gypsy snuggling behind Roxy’s knees and Rogue lying up against the other armrest.
Reaching over, she plucked an animal science text book from the coffee table and opened it to a marked page and began to study.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mara closed the door to her office, reflexively reaching for the light switch on the wall, but it was already in the on position. Didn’t I turn that off? Shrugging off the thought, she poured herself a cup of coffee, from the coffee pot atop the creden
za along the far wall of her office.
Placing the hot cup of coffee to her lips, Mara sat at her desk tapping the monitor’s power button. Opening her email account, she unzipped a considerably large file attached to Edward's email, a dialogue box appearing on the screen, while the download progressed.
“Five minutes?” She whispered to herself.
It must be a substantial file to take five minutes to download. Angora has all the latest technology, usually file downloads only take a fraction of a second, even larger files only take a few seconds.
Mara took the minutes while waiting, to run through her conversations with Edward. She and Edward had attended college together, flirting tirelessly with one another over the years, but never sharing a romance. She felt deeply fond of him, always holding out hope that one day they would find themselves together, after all this time. She hadn't received adequate information from him thus far about the mystery serum.
When he called a few days ago, he said that his work on a vital project had hit a wall and he couldn’t get past it. He’s hoping that I can help, a fresh set of eyes on it, but no one can know about my involvement. So dramatic. Edward has always been the type to make things more critical than they actually were. Obviously, it must be something for the government. After all, he does work for The Strickland Lab, one of the most renowned national laboratories in the country. What could it be… a biological weapon of some sorts? Oh, please, he would never! Perhaps he’s created a cure for a major disease, like Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s? Mara took in a deep breath. He’s been so cryptic about it. I surely hope that the data he is sending over has complete information. I cannot work while I'm in the dark. She found herself getting lost in dozens of different ideas and scenarios, swirling around in her head.