by L. Eira
As she entered the ICU waiting room, Brent and Ellie ran to her and helped her sit down on a chair.
“Is he OK?” asked Brent.
“I couldn’t help him,” said Older Ellie. “They whisked him to surgery, and I—”
“They’ll help him,” said Younger Ellie, attempting a smile.
“He has an arterial bleed in his abdomen. I could have stopped it easily with—”
“You’re not Dr. Andrea Raubuck,” said a security guard. “She’s my doctor, and you ain’t her. Why did you steal her jacket?”
“She’s just borrowing it,” said Younger Ellie. “You can have it back right—”
“Central, Eddie, let Chief Cunningham know we have some thieves here,” said the guard into his walkie-talkie. “I think these are the kids he was looking for a few weeks ago. The ones who stole the drugs from the pharmacy.”
“Sir, I’m sorry I stole the lab coat,” said Older Ellie, sobbing. “Please let us go.”
“The lady is crying, you jerk,” said Brent. “Leave her alone. Take the stupid jacket back. We’re leaving.”
“Oh no, you ain’t,” said the guard.
“Please, sir,” said Older Ellie. “It’s all my fault.” She got up and removed the white lab coat and handed it to the guard.
Three other security guards appeared.
“You kids are back,” said one of the new arrivals. He turned to the female guard behind him. “Call the police!”
Older Ellie turned pale white. “I don’t feel good.” She placed her hand on her breastbone. “I’m having chest pain. Get my computer…” She collapsed to the ground.
“Call for help!” yelled Younger Ellie, now on her knees next to Older Ellie. “Get a doctor!”
Colonel Ulice Askew walked out of the conference room and headed to the entry foyer of the military headquarters building. A group of soldiers stood waiting right outside the main door. Beyond this door, there was a large U-shaped driveway with a small fountain in the middle. The water wasn’t running, and the basin was empty. Beyond the driveway, multiple reporters, cameras, and microphones were at the ready.
As the colonel emerged from the door, the men in uniform stood at attention.
“At ease, men,” he said.
The men complied.
“Private Baten, I want you to go stand on that fountain over there and stand at attention, facing the reporters. I want them to take video footage of you and your uniform.”
“Why, sir?” said Zack.
“Because you’re a new recruit, I will forgive the question,” said the colonel. “This time. Now, go!”
“You’re going to pulverize me,” said Zack. “You’re going to kill me in cold blood.”
“I’m not going to stand here and debate issues with a grunt,” said the colonel. “Sergeant, you and your men put him up there. And hold him there. I don’t have all day.”
“He’s going to murder me in cold blood,” said Zack. “He wants the world to see the power of the vaporizer.”
“We don’t question orders, soldier!” said the sergeant. He grabbed Zack’s forearm and signaled for one of the other soldiers to follow suit. He complied.
“Please, don’t do this,” implored Zack. “I’m one of you. This is cold-blooded murder.” Tears appeared in his eyes. He tried to move right, and then left, attempting to free himself from the GI men.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” said the sergeant, dragging Zack toward the pedestal inside the dry fountain with ease.
The media, standing quietly about twenty yards away, noticed the commotion and began their typical frenzy.
The colonel approached the group. “You’re about to witness the power of our weapons,” he told them, a smug look on his face. He crossed his arms and gazed at Zack and the other soldiers. All eyes followed his.
Within moments, Zack was forced onto the platform, two men grabbing at his arms.
The colonel raised his right arm. He held a small gadget with a red button on it, with his thumb ready to activate the unit. All the reporters gasped, as they realized the unit was pointed at the group of soldiers on the pedestal. Without hesitation, the colonel nodded. The soldiers released Zack, who closed his eyes and braced for death.
Cameras rolling, all eyes were now on the target soldier on the platform. The colonel pushed the red button.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The security guards and nursing staff, who arrived within moments, lifted Older Ellie up to a stretcher. They wheeled her to the emergency room. Younger Ellie and Brent followed close behind.
“I’m Peggy,” said one of the nurses. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy. She coughed, and then sneezed into the crook of her arm. “What happened here? Do you know her medical history?”
“One of our friends was just taken to the OR,” said Brent. “He’s been shot and isn’t doing well. We were all trying to save him and—”
“She just collapsed,” offered one of the security guards.
“Has this ever happen before?” asked Peggy. “Does she have a history of heart disease?”
“Not that we know of,” said Younger Ellie.
The group reached their destination. Brent and Ellie were instructed to sit in the waiting room with a promise that someone would come tell them what was going on as soon as they had some answers. The last thing the teenagers saw was two of the ER nurses sneeze and wipe their drippy noses with tissues as the stretcher was wheeled deep into the department and out of sight.
The colonel pushed the pulverizer’s red button, expecting that the grunt on the pedestal would immediately turn into vapor and dust, generating instant respect and fear in everyone there and in all those watching on e-facts. Nothing happened. He pushed it again. Nothing.
Zack dared to open his eyes.
Another push of the red button. Yet again, nothing. All gazes switched rapidly between the colonel’s thumb as it depressed the red button and the target soldier.
“Zack, this way,” said a familiar voice.
“Dad!” yelled Zack, already running toward the newly arrived motorcycle and the familiar man operating it. Zack hopped on, and the vehicle sped away.
“He jammed my pulverizer,” yelled the colonel. “After them, men. Bring them both, dead or alive, to General Harvey Homer.”
In the emergency room, Older Ellie remained unconscious, a beehive of activity rounding her hospital bed.
“The EKG shows an evolving MI,” said Peggy.
“A heart attack?” said Dr. Rizzo. “I didn’t see that coming.” He wiped his runny nose and then sneezed into a tissue. “Call Dr. Rovine stat!”
“Dr. Rovine is no longer on call, Dr. Rizzo,” said Peggy. “It’s Dr. Godbey now.”
“OK, call her then. Stat!”
Within minutes, the on-call cardiologist appeared, out of breath from the sprint. She took the EKG tracing and analyzed for a quick moment.
“Michelle,” said Dr. Rizzo. “Looks like a heart attack. We don’t have any medical history on her. She just collapsed after hearing some pretty bad news about a teenager who’s been shot. It may be her grandson. We don’t know.”
Dr. Godbey nodded. “Yeah, it’s a heart attack all right. She’s a candidate for Enoxadin therapy. Call the cath lab stat!”
“I thought only Dr. Rovine was participating in the Enoxadin study protocol,” said Dr. Rizzo.
“The company fired him and asked me to take over the project. Not sure why exactly. But I accepted the position. So, let’s get this lady downstairs and cure her of her heart attack. The animal data on this drug is stupendous. Can’t wait to try it out on a human.”
Within minutes, Older Ellie was whisked downstairs to undergo her heart procedure. She was prepped quickly.
Dr. Michelle Godbey scrubbed and donned her surgical gown and sterile gloves. She wore a mask over her mouth and face. “Weird. All of a sudden, I feel a cold coming on,” she said. She sneezed into her mask.
“Welcome t
o the flu family,” said Emily, who also sneezed. “We all got sick today. All sneezing, runny nose, low-grade fever.”
“A pretty aggressive little virus we got here,” said Dr. Godbey. “Well, this too shall pass. Now let’s see which coronary artery needs the Enoxadin drip.”
“Dr. Rovine tried it on three patients today,” said Emily. “All of them died. We’re pretty scared about Enoxadin down here.”
“Emily, nothing’s one hundred percent,” said Dr. Godbey as she worked to perform the catheterization of the heart arteries. “The other patients were probably too late into their heart attacks for anything to help. This lady’s heart attack started less than half an hour ago. We’ll save her.”
“If you say so,” said Emily, her voice hesitant.
“The circumflex coronary artery is the culprit,” said Dr. Godbey. “Start the Enoxadin drip.”
Just as they had done before, they hooked the Enoxadincontaining bottle to the tubing that lead to the catheter that was now engaged inside Ellie’s coronary artery. Drips of Enoxadincontaining fluid steadily made their way into her circulation.
Then Ellie regained consciousness.
“Where am I?” she said, startled by the circumstances. “What happened to me?” Ellie’s nose began to run, and she sneezed. “Do I have a viral upper respiratory syndrome?”
“My name is Dr. Michelle Godbey,” said the cardiologist. “You collapsed while visiting in the hospital. Do you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“While you were unconscious, you were brought to the ER, where we diagnosed a heart attack.”
“A myocardial infarction? Really? So now I’m in the cath lab,” said Ellie. “Which coronary is occluded?” Seeing the puzzled faces all around her, Ellie continued, “I’m a physician.”
“It’s your circumflex coronary artery that has occluded on you,” said Dr. Godbey. “We’re giving you an experimental drug now to make things better.”
Ellie sneezed again, and then Dr. Godbey, and then the cath lab nurses.
“What about this cold?” said Ellie. “It sounds like you all have it too.”
“It’s a new virus,” said Dr. Godbey. “Very aggressive.”
Ellie realized what was going on. She began to perspire and became extremely short of breath. Then came the crushing pain in her chest. “Enoxadin…unusual virus…deadly combination,” she uttered with much difficulty, her words stunted and feeble. “Stop…”
The alarms sounded off.
“No blood pressure,” yelled Emily. “No pulse!”
“Stop Enoxadin. Begin CPR!” commanded Dr. Godbey. “We’re going to lose her.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
The motorcycle raced down the road that connected the main farmhouse, which now served as General Homer’s headquarters, and the nearby interstate leading into town. Behind the bike, three army jeeps full of armed soldiers hustled to catch up. Already, they were well within shooting range.
“They’re gaining on us rapidly,” said William.
“I know a cave we can hide in,” said Zack. “Get ready to take a sharp right onto a small path.”
William nodded.
“Coming up in a few seconds.”
“Say when,” said William. The bike continued for a few yards.
“Now!”
William directed the motorcycle to take an abrupt turn. Both men’s right feet skipped the ground lightly. Zack pointed straight ahead, slightly to the left. William nodded.
Zack glanced back. “Only one of the jeeps made the turn. We bought ourselves several seconds.” He noted that the bike created a plume of dirt that would be easily detected by their chasers. “We need to lose the bike!”
A few moments later, Zack peeked back again. The dirt path they were on had meandered through the forest and the army vehicle was now completely out of sight. “Stop here! Let’s ditch the bike. We have about a mile to walk, but we’ll lose them easily through the woods.”
William complied, and the two ran, zigzagging through the trees, until they reached the river. They stopped and leaned against a large tree, their breaths going a million miles a minute.
“We lost them,” said William. “Where to now?”
“There’s a cave downriver,” said Zack. If we walk in the water, we’ll make sure they can’t track us. Some of them are very good at doing that, I found out during our training exercises. But they can’t track us in the water.”
Zack took off his boots and socks, and William followed suit. Soon, they were walking in the water.
“Why did you come to rescue me, Dad?” asked Zack, interrupting the silence between them.
“Despite it all, your DNA undeniably makes you my son, Zack,” said William. “I couldn’t let them kill you. Even if it is the almighty General Harvey Homer.”
Their gazes met, and they both smiled.
“As to why or how you are my son and have my DNA, even though your explanation of the facts is the craziest thing I have ever heard, it’s still the only one that fits. I want to believe you and believe in the albino, omnipotent little girl.”
“How are you able to stop the pulverizer?”
“You forget I invented the damn thing,” said William. “I also invented a tool that disables it. Right now, all the pulverizers are only good as doorstops.”
“So General Homer can’t ever use it again?” said Zack.
“Only if one of his scientists finds a way to disable the disabler,” said William. “Unfortunately, there are a couple of men in the group who are capable of doing so. We’ll see.”
After fifteen minutes of walking as fast as they could in the shallow water, they arrived at the point in the river as close to the cave as possible.
“The cave’s not far from here,” said Zack. “Maybe half a mile in that direction.” He pointed due west.
They stepped onto solid ground once more and leaned against a tree. They looked behind them. No soldiers in sight.
Brent and Younger Ellie sat on their hands, their bodies stiff, their eyes moist with tears, their hearts pitter-pattering.
The ER waiting room was full of sad stories, unfortunate events, bad luck, and squandered-youth incidents.
“What’s taking them so long?” asked Brent.
Ellie shrugged her shoulder. No words were accessible in her frame of mind. Multiple times people in scrubs, some with, and some without white lab coats peeked through the door from the ER proper into the waiting room, but their scanning gaze always landed on some other group. Some other family. The news, good or bad, had been intended for somebody else.
Brent spoke again impatiently. “That nurse told us someone would come out and talk to us as soon as they knew something.”
Ellie looked at the clock on the wall and shrugged her shoulder once more.
Just then a tall blond woman wearing a white jacket came through the door and spoke. “Is the family of Dr. Ellie Smithson here?”
Present-day Ellie and Brent immediately jumped up on their feet and walked briskly toward the woman, the appetite for information insatiable.
“I’m afraid I have terrible news,” said the woman somberly, bowing her head down slightly. “Dr. Smithson had a massive heart attack, and we couldn’t save her.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
William and Zack sat on a rock leaning against a big tree, their breaths now slow, and their heartbeats calmer.
“Do you know what isotopes are?” said William.
“Sure,” said Zack. “Different chemical elements can vary slightly in the number of neutrons.”
“That’s right,” said William. “Unfortunately, my last invention may help General Homer’s men find us. I’ve been working on an app that allows the user to easily measure the isotope of oxygen and other elements. The air we inhale and exhale will have slightly different isotopes for each of us. With this app, we can analyze oxygen isotopes and follow the trails of runaways. I had a group of my scientists in the lab working on the app. Fran
kly, I don’t know how far they got with the manufacture of the processor.”
“But if they’re finished with it, and General Homer knows about it, he might order your app to be used to search for us.”
“Exactly,” said William. “We should assume the worst-case scenario, that they have the analyzer right now and that they’re following our trail.”
“What can we do?” asked Zack.
“Hyperventilate right now,” said William. “Then, take a deep breath and hold your breath for as long as you can and run from here as fast as you possibly can.”
“I’ll show you where the cave is,” said Zack, getting ready to begin the process.
William grabbed the boy’s arm. “No, Zack,” he said. “We should separate for now. It’ll make it more difficult for them to find us. You run to the cave. Go! Now!”
“No, Dad, I won’t leave without you.”
“I never had the chance to see you grow up and to advise you,” said William.
“Yes you did.”
“It wasn’t me then. But now, it is me. This is my chance to give you fatherly advice. Please do as I say, and go. There’s no time to waste. They’ll kill us both if they find us. Go. Quickly.”
“No, Dad, I’ll—”
“Goddamn it, Zack,” interrupted William. “Go. Now!”
Zack came to William, and the two hugged each other tight.
Voices of men echoed through the trees.
“The soldiers are almost here,” said Zack.
William nodded. “Now, begin hyperventilating as fast as you can.”
Zack obeyed, his chest heaving in and out.
Then, William gave Zack a light shove. “Go. Run,” he said.
And Zack obeyed again. As he sprinted with his breath on hold, Zack heard men’s voices in the distance up the river.
“There’s one of them.”
“It’s Dr. Baten.”
“Grab him.”
“He ran into the forest. Follow him, men.”
Eyes welling up, Zack heard the soldiers discharge their conventional weapons. He recognized the sound of multiple blast rounds, the type of volleys that would kill instantly if fired in one’s vicinity.Back at Memorial Hospital, Brent and Ellie were taken to the morgue, where they were allowed to see Older Ellie, her body concealed underneath a white sheet. As her veil was pulled back, the teens noticed her face, unsmiling and devoid of any color. Her body was still. Death had conquered her.