by D. C. Gomez
“At least seventy-five to a hundred feet, based on the height of those walls. Not to mention it will need separation from the plant and lake above.” Bob was giving the place a clinical analysis. I was ready to be out of there. The three of us slowly climbed out of The Camaro.
I felt small in the broad area, especially knowing it was all underground. A group of ten men, all wearing white lab coats, were waiting by a door on the side of a large hallway. Bartholomew and I exchanged looks and slowly made our way in their direction. Bartholomew looked as concerned as I felt. Bob was back to his paranoid self. He had his hands behind his back as he walked. For any bystander, he looked casual, but I knew that pose was for easy access to his guns. By the time we reached the men, one was talking into what looked like a walkie-talkie. A large pair of double doors burst open and the men moved out of the way. They looked like a receiving line, waiting to shake hands and kiss babies.
“Well, it’s about time you finally showed up. Do you think I have all day?” Pestilence was yelling at us even before she entered the room. In less than ten steps she had reached us.
“Sorry ma’am, we had some car issues getting here.” I wasn’t sure why I was explaining.
“Excuse me! Do I look old enough to be a ma’am to you? Besides, I was talking to the Intern.” She didn’t even look at me when she spoke. She turned her back on me and looked at Bob, waiting for an answer.
“Sorry, Ms. Pestilence,” Bob told her in his calmer voice. “I’m not the Intern. Isis is. I’m just the driver.”
Thank you, Bob. I was afraid if I spoke I was going to say something I would regret. Besides, the look on Pestilence’s face was priceless. Pure shock and horror all at once. It was beautiful.
“You are the Intern?” The way she said it, I was pretty sure I was supposed to be offended.
Pestilence was beautiful. The kind of woman that made the Victoria Secret models look like washed-out rags. Unfortunately, she was also arrogant and condescending. It took away from her beauty.
“Yep, that would be me.” I gave her my most charming smile. Pestilence had the nerve to walk around me, inspecting me. No wonder Constantine couldn’t stand her; she was vile.
“Well, this is a surprise. I guess my dear sister always has a new trick up her sleeve.” She finished her inspections and just stared at me, revolted by something. “Let’s get this done. I don’t have all day.”
Pestilence did a perfect about-face and walked right back where she came from. She passed her receiving line and snapped her fingers. The men fell in right behind her, all in step with one another. At least if they ever retired, they could start a marching band.
“Oh, she’s pleasant,” Bob whispered to Bartholomew and me.
“Like an executioner. I’m sure she was in charge of the guillotines in France,” I replied. That woman was nuts.
The three of us followed slowly behind. We entered a large conference room. The walls were white with a white marble table and white leather chairs. A wall of flat-screen TVs was adjacent to the entrance door. Pestilence walked to the head of the table at the opposite side of the room. The wall behind her was glass, overlooking the most significant lab I had ever seen. The view almost felt like Reapers.
“Feels familiar,” Bartholomew whispered.
“I was thinking the same thing,” I replied.
To the right of Pestilence sat all of the men. They all faced straight ahead, looking focused. I led the way toward the front of the room on the left-hand side. As the Intern, I was the one responsible for talking. By the expressions on Bartholomew and Bob’s faces, they were not planning to sit near Pestilence if they could avoid it. So I was the sacrificial lamb here.
“As you can see, this is a waste of time. This is a secure facility and nobody has ever broken in.” Pestilence was pretty sure of herself.
“This facility has always been here?”
I was grateful Bartholomew asked. I was curious as well.
“No, we just moved about six months ago. It’s good to move around, keep the humans on their toes.” As Pestilence finished, Bartholomew and I looked at each other. This was suspicious. “So I don’t see the need of you guys being here. I think we all can agree this facility is very safe and call it a day.”
“We wish we could do that, but Death is expecting a full report. She wants Bartholomew to run a quick scan of your inventory as well as check for wiretaps on your phone and electronics.”
Pestilence was making a weird pucker face as I spoke.
“Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?” She ran perfectly manicured fingernails down her hair. After my day with Patty, I could tell who spent money to get their nails done. “Fine, let’s get this over with. The Rookie will be your contact here.” She pointed to the far end of the table.
A young black man probably in his early twenties waved at me. I waved back. He was cute for a chemist. He had a military haircut, high and tight, and a sweet smile. For some strange reason, he looked out of place among the rest of the guys.
“Next to him is First generation, followed by Second, and so on, and so on. You get the point.” The gentlemen waved back at us. Bob, Bartholomew, and I waved a bit slower. Why didn’t her people have names? “I got things to do, so make this quick.”
Before any of us could speak, she got up from her chair and headed toward a door on the left-hand side of the room. The two older men next to her, Eighth and Ninth generation, got up and followed her out.
“OK, you heard the mistress, let’s get moving,” a tall guy in the middle said. If I was counting correctly, he was Fifth generation. Why was he giving us orders? “Rookie is going to give you a tour and then you can be on your way.”
“As exciting as your plans sounds, unfortunately, Bart here needs to check your system. So would you mind showing him your computer area?” I didn’t want to be here anymore than they wanted us, but we had a job to do. I smiled brightly and waited for Fifth to process my demands. It was weird, but from Second to Seventh generation they all looked the same. They were all different ages. They got older with their names. They were different races, but they all still had the same weird aura about them. I was tempted to open my third eye and check, but I had no idea what nasty tricks Pestilence had here.
“This is most irregular, but if it will get you out of here faster…”
He folded his arms in front of his body and stared down at me. I didn’t know how to break the news to him, but he was not intimidating. I was pretty sure I could break him in half. We stared at each other for about thirty seconds before he finally realized I wasn’t backing down. “First, please accompany this child to our stations and make it quick.”
First got up and headed around the table. Bartholomew looked at me questioningly. I winked at him and nodded. He got up from the table and followed the eerie guy out. At least that one seemed semi-human.
“Thank you. We appreciate it.” I could be cordial even if people were rude toward us.
“Yes, of course.” Wow, he was just as arrogant as his “mistress.” That title was so not appropriate. “Rookie will guide you on your tour. The rest of us have work to do.”
With that, they all headed out the main door.
“You guys are with me. Please follow me this way.” We followed the young man out of the conference room.
“Your name is Rookie?” Bob asked, as casually as possible.
“Oh no, my name is Eugene. Rookie is my Intern name, since I’m the youngest here,” Eugene replied with a smile.
“Wait. Youngest? You mean all those men are Interns?” I was in shock. Did I miss that memo?
“Of course. Every ten years Pestilence hires a new Intern and everyone else gets promoted up. I’m entering my second year. The rookies get all the low jobs and duties.”
For being at the bottom of the food chain, Eugene did not sound upset. He led us a down the hallway past The Camaro It seemed the weird ramp just kept going down.
“Here we are. Floor en
trance to the lab.”
Eugene pulled out a square card and placed it next to the door. It looked like the security system they had at hotels. The door clicked open and we went in. The lab was even bigger inside. This whole facility was surprisingly deceiving. The place was almost the same size as the plant above us. We passed the first table filled with beakers and things boiling in little pots.
“Is this stuff safe?” Bob asked, staring at a purple liquid bubbling in the corner.
“Oh, don’t be worried, we’re all immune to everything. Gift for working for Pestilence,” Eugene replied very proudly.
“That’s great, but we don’t have your gifts. Don’t you have some hazmat suites we can use?” I replied, looking around, just as worried as Bob. I did not want to die of the black plague here.
“Oh wow. I forgot. Follow me.”
We rushed back toward the door area.
“You should be fine; you haven’t been here too long.” He looked around the lab, concerned. “Civilians on site, lock it up,” Eugene yelled as loud as possible. Three other Interns ran inside and started covering things on tables. Great, we were going to die from contamination from our distant cousins. He turned back around and handed Bob and me each a set of chemical suits—the kind you see in movies that come with a mask and everything.
“Thanks,” I told Eugene. I turned my suit over to find the zipper and found a large hole in the shape of a heart in the back. “I think this one is defective.” I handed him the suit. Eugene looked at it, entirely shocked.
“What the…? This is most irregular.” He turned it over a few more times and finally gave up. He handed me another suit and tried to find someplace to put the bad one. “Aren’t you guys immune to death, being Death’s Interns?” He was looking at me very seriously.
“I’m just the driver and Bartholomew is the computer genius. Isis is the North America Intern.,” Bob informed him again.
“And no, we are not immune. For me to get the job, the other Intern had to die,” I told him as I struggled into my new plastic suit.
“So weird, Pestilence has never had a female Intern,” Eugene said almost to himself. That explained a lot.
“That lady had a mirror on-the-wall complex,” Bob whispered to me. Luckily Eugene was busy watching his peers locking things up. I had a feeling Bob was right. Pestilence did not like to share the center stage..
“Is it me or is the chemistry here scarier than our supernatural community?” I was feeling out of place with all the chemicals and crazy white walls.
“Amen to that. I’ll take a trip to Jake anytime.” It was terrible when Bob would rather see the devil than the chemist. Bob was terrified of Jake.
“Let’s get this party started. You all look pretty secured. Everything looks safe now. Let’s go.”
I wasn’t sure if the suit was going to work since I could hear Eugene perfectly well through it. I looked at Bob, who shrugged his shoulders. I did the same and followed our very happy guide.
CHAPTER 11
Two hours later we finally returned to the conference room. I had never been so happy to be out of the labs. Eugene had us walking up and down tables full of strange concoctions ranging from toe fungus to smallpox. I was grateful the Army had given me a vaccine for smallpox, but I was still paranoid. Sweat was running down my body, but I refused to take the plastic suit off. I wasn’t sure how much protection it was providing, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I felt itchy and nasty all over. I wanted a hot shower to scrub the potential contamination off. Even Bob was looking a little pale. Chasing ghosts was looking better and better. I was glad my job did not include exterminating the human race.
When we entered the conference room, Pestilence was already there. She was on another conference call with Death. I could tell from the video feed that Death was at Reapers. Constantine was sitting on Bartholomew’s computer desk with his head dangling down. I guessed he was still boycotting having to communicate with Pestilence. Pestilence had changed outfits and was now wearing a navy blue mermaid dress. I learned that from following Sofia Vergara on Instagram. Yeah, I had too much time on my hands, but Sofia was fabulous.
“The boss looks great in the suit.” I had been staring at Pestilence and it wasn’t till Bob spoke that I noticed Death had a different suit on.
“Wow, you’re right.” Death was wearing a blood red suit that made her hair and eyes shine. I was wondering if Bob and I had similar visions of Death right now.
“Are you kidding? He’s scary.” I forgot Eugene was right behind us. I turned to answer his question. He was pale and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.
“Breath, Eugene, before you pass out.” I waved my hands in front of his face, hoping to give him extra air. I doubted it would help, but it made me feel useful.
“Oh good, your little Intern is back.”
I felt more than saw all eyes on me. I slowly turned around to face Pestilence, who had so kindly introduced me. That woman did not like me. I waved casually at them.
“How was the tour?” Pestilence asked in the fakest tone I had ever heard.
“Impressive. You run an amazing facility.” I could give credit to where credit was due. I didn’t have to like the fact that their job was to wipe out humanity. I could respect the science as long as I was far away.
“Did you find anything unusual?” Death’s voice was neutral. I wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Constantine stopped trying to decapitate himself with the table and started paying attention.
“Besides a vandalized hazmat suit, the lab was immaculate. What did you think, Bob?” I asked. Bob was great at finding the smallest clue. I think Death chose the wrong Intern.
“Isis is right; everything looked very organized and clean.” I notice Bob was staring at the screen and not making eye contact with Pestilence. That was very interesting.
“What do you mean by vandalized hazmat suit?” Constantine asked from the back. I could always count on Constantine to ask pertinent questions.
“One of the suits had a large heart cut out from it.” Bob was not letting that go. The whole idea of somebody tampering with a safety suit was very troubling for him.
“Now that’s interesting.” Constantine looked amused. His next comments were cut off by Bartholomew walking into the room.
“Hi, Death,” Bartholomew yelled from the door. Bartholomew loved Death. He beamed when she was in the room. Looking over at the screen, I could see she was also smiling at him.
“Hi dear. Did you find anything?” I was pretty sure Bartholomew could do no wrong in Death’s eyes. Bartholomew walked over to be directly in front of the screen. He was carrying one of his tablets with him.
“You were right; the place was bugged. We found microphones in all the major rooms. I’m leaving some of my equipment here for First and Second to complete their sweep of the place.” Bartholomew was talking to Death, so he didn’t get to see the look on Pestilence’s face. It was a mixture of shock, horror, and absolute disgust. This was going great.
“Pestilence should be very pleased to know her lab will be back to normal soon.”
I couldn’t tell if Death was being serious or just messing with her sister.
“Of course. Thank you, darling,” Pestilence replied and I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.
“Anything else, Bartholomew?” Death brought the conversation back to business.
“Yeah. They have two crates of some experimental virus that are missing.” Bartholomew was reading from his notes as he spoke.
“What?” Pestilence screamed. She had a very high-pitched scream. My ears were ringing. “Impossible!”
Fifth stepped up to take the blame. “Mistress, this is completely my fault. I told Rookie to focus his efforts on the deployment of the new stomach and flu virus. We got busy researching killer bees and their potential for carrying the plague.”
First stepped up right next to Fifth. “Mistress, it’s my fault. I was responsibl
e for inspecting Rookie’s work. I was distracted developing another acne cream.”
“You guys made something good for humanity?” I asked Eugene.
“Not at all. The cream is to promote acne. Pimple creams sell like hot cakes around here,” Eugene whispered back in my ear.
Ninth stepped up with his hands behind his back. “Mistress, I approved the change in duty. It is my fault. As the senior ranking here, I take full responsibilities. Punish me.”
I turned around to stare at the Interns. They were all standing in a straight line behind us.
I was amazed. In a lot of workplaces, the employees were backstabbing one another to move up the corporate ladder. I had never seen such a unified front. Eugene was the rookie around here, but he was not alone. He walked back to join his peers and take his punishment.
“Fine, I got it.” Pestilence waved her hands to calm her Interns. She was outnumbered and they looked like they were going to die for this. I had to give it to Pestilence—her nails were amazing. “Since everyone is personally responsible for this, I expect it to be corrected. Little man, did you find anything else?”
Bartholomew rolled his eyes at her and turned to address Death. At least his attitude problem was paying off for something.
“Not bad. He’s not backing down,” Bob whispered in my direction. I smiled in reply.
“According to the note the thief left, she plans to prove she is the better Intern than all the guys.”
The room was speechless.
“Wait. The thief left a note? Did she sign it?” I was walking up to Bartholomew to look closer at what he was holding.
Bartholomew read from some note on his tablet. “Yeah. From the personnel records, her name is Emma and she was an accountant here. She quit back in December,”
Pestilence was outraged. She had her hands on her hips and was tapping her foot. “She quit because I was getting ready to fire her. She was acting irrational, playing loud music in her cubicle, and talking to herself. She couldn’t get along with her supervisor and he is a saint.”