The Serophim Breach (The Serophim Breach Series)

by Tracy Serpa

  The room crackled with the tension and silence, Paul and Jones standing frozen against the north wall and Gruden watching out the front with his weapon trained on his partner. It felt as though the seconds crawled by, and Kai thought that Nordec must be nearly back when suddenly his partner growled, “Oh, shit,” and the room exploded with the staccato bursts of fire from his weapon.

  “Shit!” he bellowed, trying to angle his gun out the door, his arm meeting the resistance of the frame. The next second, Kai understood; the barking began again, close, as close as the cries had sounded, and Gruden’s gun was not the only one being fired. The next moment, Gruden was out the door, disappearing around the corner with his weapon firing.

  “Oh God,” Jones moaned. The windows that lined the top of the wall facing the street were lit almost constantly by the light of muzzle flashes for another few seconds as the yipping grew more furious and frenzied, and then a hideous scream rang out and the rapid fire of Gruden’s gun ceased. It wasn’t until that moment that they realized Nordec’s pistol had stopped firing as well.

  The deafening cries of the pack outside hit Kai’s brain like a shock wave, and he shook the bars that stood between him and his brother in a panic.

  “Paul!” he cried. His brother’s eyes were glued to the door, wide and unblinking. “Paul!” he shouted again.

  Finally, both Paul and Jones turned to look at him, stunned.

  “Hide!” he commanded.

  They stumbled toward him, tripping over bodies, tears streaming down Jones’s face. The cries outside were dying down, and Kai was sure they only had moments before the first attacker would try the building again.

  “Hurry up,” he pushed. “There’s a room right there. Get inside and hide. See if you can get up into the attic or something. Someplace they can’t get at easily.”

  Paul nodded and pulled Jones along with him into the nearest room and shut the door behind them. Kai let out a small sigh of relief, but the all-too-familiar tingling of adrenaline in his system kept his muscles taut. He stood rooted to the spot, waiting.

  He was briefly hopeful when the windows lit again, but the rumbling that followed told him that the storm had picked up, and it was just lightning that illuminated the sky, not the flashes of muzzles. Although he was sure that the two men had meant to kill them, he mourned the loss of their guns, of their imposing presence that had kept the outside threat at bay for at least a moment. The many questions that their appearance had raised swirled in his brain as he waited.

  Stuck in the cell, he pushed aside the confusion and readied himself for what he knew was coming. He watched the dark door frame, and although it was impossible to make out anything in the dark, he could feel the first figure appear. Another flash of lightning confirmed his instinct, outlining a crouched silhouette already halfway inside, moving carefully through the doorway. Kai’s breath caught in his throat.

  Once it was inside and he could make out the figure in the darkness, he followed its motions with his eyes, not daring to move. It crept deftly over the piles of dead, unaffected by the grotesque way the inanimate limbs slid across one another, snuffing at the faces as it passed. Kai felt his knees begin to shake and his stomach churn as he watched it inch closer to the cell. Please, God—he thought of Paul and Jones—please just let them be hidden.

  In the darkness, it stood up, stretching its arms and legs as though it had just awoken from a long nap. He heard a growl, followed by a string of nonsense, and it continued its path toward the cell; Kai knew the moment that it realized he was watching.

  It was close enough for him to see it was a young man, younger than Kai, dressed only in badly stained board shorts. The skin on its chest was scraped away in large patches, as though it had fallen and slid along the pavement on bare skin. Most of the flesh on its left shoulder was missing, and the arm below was covered in smaller wounds, its skin nearly black with crusted blood. A fresh bullet wound at its hip oozed slightly, but if it was feeling pain, it didn’t show. Kai was horrified by its face. Still largely intact, it was covered in blood and gore, and a few patches of hair that were not its own clung to the cheeks.

  They caught one another’s eyes; its pupils dilated hugely, both matte and glossy like those of a dead fish. It bared its teeth and growled, low in its chest, like a warning. Then it leaped forward and slammed its body into the bars, its arms snaking through and swiping at him viciously. He jumped away, falling backward over a body on the floor, landing hard on his elbow.

  It slavered at him for a moment longer, reaching, pushing so hard against the bars that Kai saw its skin start to tear where it pressed against the metal. He wanted to scream, but the other had not yet made a sound loud enough to alert the pack that waited outside, and he would not be the one to bring them in. Inside, he curled his legs up against his chest and sat on the cold ground, surrounded by the bodies, and watched as it struggled viciously against the bars. He didn’t know what he hoped would happen; perhaps that it would get tired and move on, or somehow understand that he was beyond its reach, that everyone else was dead, and leave the station behind. But abruptly it backed away, cocking its head and listening. Kai was horrified by the sight of what he thought was a grin spreading slowly across its face, and it padded away down the hallway toward the door where Paul and Jones had hidden.

  It stood in the dark and listened. Gingerly, Kai leaned forward and strained his ears, trying to understand what had drawn his attacker off. In a moment when the rain slackened, he finally heard it: a scuffling sound coming from the room where Paul and Jones hid. And then, a grunt, as if someone had stubbed a toe. Kai watched, helpless, as the other lowered its body and hurled its ragged shoulder into the door, leaving behind a gory patch. It tried again, twice, but the door held. Then it began scratching at the flat panel, digging its fingers into the heavy wood, growling as it worked. Kai thought it might give up at one point, but by some chance, it hooked its fingers around the door handle, which moved slightly as it struggled against the door.

  When it let out the first bark, Kai knew it was a signal for help. His already racing mind began working frantically, searching for a plan, some way to help his brother. They only had moments before another, or maybe several, showed up. Suddenly, he heard Jones’s voice, muffled by the door, shout “Three! Two! One!” and the door swung open wildly, throwing the mangled attacker back against the wall. A burst of gunfire rocked down the hallway, and the attacker’s head exploded into a gory mess, its body sinking to the floor.

  “Kai?” It was Paul’s voice, quietly calling to him from the room.

  “I’m here,” he answered, trying to keep from shouting.

  “Are there others?”

  “Not yet.”

  Moments later, a wide-eyed Jones emerged into the hallway, followed closely by Paul, who was carrying a rifle. Jones managed a queasy smile, and he said, “We found the guns.”

  “You saw that message, right?” Paul said gruffly, gesturing toward the south wall.

  Kai nodded.

  “We need to go. If they can get into a police station, they can get into Mike’s house,” Paul continued. Then he stopped, his eyes focusing on the cell door.

  “Well,” Kai answered, “Nordec had the keys.”

  Nineteen

  Standing in the tiny hospital room with Thad, Karen felt her resolve waver. When she pitched her plan back in his lab, it had seemed more than plausible; in fact, it had seemed obvious. After defibrillation, a new sample of Brandon’s blood behaved normally under the microscope: it no longer pulsed, and when Thad introduced the same toxic pathogens, they began rapidly destroying the nearest cells, unchecked by the still-absent white blood cells. It hadn’t taken them long to conclude that the electricity that jump-started his heart also short-circuited the nanites they assumed were in his bloodstream. But with the limp body of the mugging victim—Leilani, she reminded herself—sprawled out on the bed just feet from where they stood, she was much less sure. She had to question herself
now, more than ever; she was no longer an impartial researcher.

  “Have you checked her recently? Like, since she’s been out?” Thad asked quietly. The crash cart stood ominously behind him.

  Karen shook her head. The last time she had the opportunity to see the girl, the ragged sound of her breathing was all she could hear through the stethoscope; realistically, that was hardly conclusive evidence that her heart wasn’t beating. Thad had been gracious enough to act convinced when she explained what she experienced, but now she wondered if he thought she was just under too much stress and had imagined the fantastical situation. Or maybe she was the one who thought that.

  Leilani’s body lay flaccid on the white sheets, red flecks of blood dotting the pillow near her nose and mouth. In the places where her wounds had been sutured, the gauze was beginning to show blood staining through as well. Karen frowned; with the sutures in, the bleeding should have slowed much more than it appeared to have done. So the blood must not be clotting, she thought, making another addition to her mental list of symptoms.

  She laid her stethoscope on the girl’s chest and closed her eyes, listening past the sound of her now slower breathing for the thumping of a heartbeat. The strange absence of the sound made her shiver. Pressing two fingers against Leilani’s throat, she felt the steady, almost frantic thumping of a pulse. Karen shook her head incredulously and motioned for Thad to approach.

  They switched places deftly, Thad taking the stethoscope and inserting the buds into his ears. The girl let out a loud moan in her sleep, and he winced against the sound, magnified through the instrument. Once she settled again, he closed his eyes and listened. Karen watched the lines of concentration deepen along his brows and around his eyes as he moved the scope slightly, his back hunching as he strained to listen.

  “Feel the artery,” she suggested quietly.

  He reached up, put his fingers to Leilani’s neck, and kept listening. Finally, he reached over to her right side, lifted her up onto her left as far as the cuffs would allow, and pressed the scope into her back again. After a few moments, he looked up at Karen incredulously.

  “Whoa,” he managed to say.

  “Yeah,” she answered, still just as shocked. It still seemed impossible, but there was the proof, lying unconscious before them.

  “You see the blood around her mouth and nose?” Thad asked.

  “I did. Looks like she’s been coughing maybe?” she answered.

  Thad shook his head.

  “No, it’s just happening when she breathes,” he said, pointing to the pillow. Karen watched closely; with each exhale, a few new specks of blood appeared.

  “What does that mean?” Karen mused, mostly to herself.

  She knew they were stalling. When she had used the paddles on Brandon, he had been in cardiac arrest—the need was obvious, her actions clearly justified. Leilani’s situation was completely different. She wasn’t even sure what kind of outcome she could hope for—would her heart start beating again, like Brandon’s? Or was she getting ready to end the girl’s life?

  She blinked, coming out of her reverie, and found Thad watching her.

  “We have to try it,” he said, as if he knew what she was thinking. “If this thing goes epidemic . . . a potential treatment is better than nothing at all.”

  Briefly, she imagined people at home, hooking themselves up to car batteries or sticking forks in electric outlets. It would certainly be a risky treatment, but until they could contact Argo and get more information on the drug, it might be the only one they could offer patients. They would just have to do their best to make sure it was done in a controlled environment. She was almost dizzy with this strange new reality—considering electroshock therapy to “cure” some kind of nanotechnology infestation. A shudder ran up her back as she remembered that infestation was now coursing through her and she was working on limited time.

  “I’ll get the paddles charged,” Thad said curtly.

  “Wait.”

  Something was nagging at her brain, something she had forgotten in this whole equation. She tried to search it out, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, but the detail was elusive, sliding just beyond her grasp as she puzzled it out. The frenetic beeping of the monitor wasn’t doing much to steady her nerves. When she stepped forward to switch the sound off, the missing chunk clicked into place.

  “The monitor,” she said, turning to Thad. He eyed her curiously. “According to the monitor, she’s got a pulse. If we defib her now, and . . . something happens, how are we going to explain that?” Thad’s eyes widened at the prospect.

  “So . . . what do we do?” he asked.

  Karen turned to look at the girl. She looked too small to have been so violent those few hours ago. Once again, her resolve wavered, and she wondered if there might not be another way. Maybe if they went back to Brandon, they could find something . . .

  A wave of sudden nausea swept over her, and her knees threatened to buckle. The edges of her vision contracted, her peripheral vision going dark, and she swayed slightly, a light ringing in her ears. She lifted a hand to her head and felt Thad supporting her left elbow. His voice was muffled behind the ringing and the sound of her own pulse; she couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he sounded concerned.

  Just as suddenly as it had washed over her, the feeling ebbed, and the edges of her sight returned.

  “Karen? Sit down.” Thad’s voice was raised, and he was bent over, looking into her face with wide eyes.

  She sank down onto the edge of Leilani’s bed and held her head in her hands for a few moments.

  “What happened?” Thad finally asked. “How long has it been since you slept or ate anything?”

  She tried to gather herself, swallowing hard to clear her throat. The feeling of sickness was gone, replaced instead by a weakness that reminded her of her first few months of medical school, when she had functioned on four hours of sleep for every thirty-six-hour shift until she had collapsed on the couch in her tiny apartment and slept for eighteen hours straight.

  “Tired, maybe,” she said simply, knowing the answer didn’t quite make sense. But she knew, and so did Thad. Whatever had altered Brandon’s blood and stopped Leilani’s heart was beginning to affect her. There was no way to know how much time she had left, but it was not prudent to assume it was much.

  “Charge the defibrillator,” she commanded wearily, pushing herself back up to her feet. Gingerly, she slipped the attachment from the girl’s finger, and the monitor immediately showed a flat line, followed closely by the alarm that would normally bring the nurses running. But she knew there were only two left on this floor, and they were likely far enough away that they wouldn’t hear it in time. Even if they showed up, she’d send them away with her normal authority, off to fetch her some kind of intravenous treatment. She switched off the alarm, just to be safe. The printout wouldn’t show cardiac arrest or any kind of anomaly, but at least she would have a flat line, and that was a start.

  The hair on the back of her neck lifted on end at the sound of the defibrillator charging behind her. There wasn’t any kind of charge building in the room, she knew, but it still felt as though her follicles stood higher as the whine increased. She wondered if something about the electricity was causing a kind of instinctual reaction in whatever was in her blood, but quickly dismissed that as ridiculous, the musings of an overstressed, injured doctor about to attempt to bring an already living person back to life.

  Thad pushed the crash cart closer to Leilani’s bed as Karen pulled her gown down to reveal the bare flesh of her chest. Then she lifted the paddles from their cradles and pressed one firmly into the left side of the girl’s rib cage, the other just above her right breast. She glanced up at Thad, who watched grimly, his jaw clenched tightly. He gave her a tight nod.

  “Clear,” she said quietly, routinely, and pressed the button.

  Leilani’s body arched up in a distorted contraction, then slumped back to the mattress l
imply. Automatically, Karen glanced at the monitor before she remembered that she would need to feel for the girl’s pulse manually. She put a hand to her chest and waited, feeling nothing—not the ragged breathing or the beating of a heart. Quickly, she pressed her fingers into the girl’s neck, searching for the pulse and finding nothing.

  “Shit,” she said, replacing the paddles. At the last second, she scooped up the finger monitor and pinched it back onto Leilani’s finger; the screen remained in flat line.

  “Clear!” she said, more intensely, and shocked the girl again. Her body lifted up in the same contraction, then flopped back down. They checked the screen again and watched as the blip that translated to the shock slid off, followed only by the same flat line.

  “Increase the charge,” she growled, not turning around to ensure that Thad had followed her command. She waited until the machine beeped ready, then replaced the paddles and sent another charge into the girl’s body.

  “Nothing,” Thad said.

  “Damn it,” she hissed, dropping the paddles. She moved to stand over Leilani’s body and started chest compressions, counting to herself as she worked to manually beat the girl’s heart, ignoring the feeling of the ribs bending beneath her weight.

  “Come on,” she whispered fervently. But nothing changed.

  “Call the OR!” she demanded, continuing to work at the girl. She knew that was useless; the last time she had been downstairs, the ER had been full, the military had been setting up triage units outside, and her attack had led to panic among the waiting patients. That had been over an hour ago; it was impossible to imagine what it looked like down there now. They had even shut off the elevators to prevent unauthorized personnel from accessing the higher floors of the hospital. There was no way the operating rooms weren’t full already, and she didn’t know what could be done at this point anyway.