“No,” Abby said firmly as they took a seat far from the windows. “No, I'm in this. I'll talk to him as soon as I can. For now, he'll just have to wait.”
The pair ordered a couple of sandwiches and some coffee and sat in a rather tense silence. Mark had taken the seat with the window view to make sure he would be able to see if any law enforcement officers before they saw him. He was on edge, and felt even more tense than he would have, now that he had the head detective's sister tagging along with him.
He cared for Abby, though, and her loyalty was touching. It had been a long time since Mark had a truly loyal companion with him, and he was a little hesitant to send her back to her old life. He needed Yehuda with him, but he found he wanted Abby around.
The food arrived and she dug in happily, while Mark picked a little at the over-cooked, greasy fries that were piled on the plate. The coffee was bitter, burnt, but he added a liberal amount of cream and sugar, and took down the entire cup in nearly one swallow.
“So,” Abby said once she had demolished half her plate, “we're going to the hospital? Is that the plan?”
Mark nodded and sipped on the refill of coffee the waitress had brought over. “I overheard your brother talking to the doctor who was treating Yehuda. The doctor has some information that I need to get, and I think it's possible that this doctor knows who took him and where he might be now.”
“When you went back, did you talk to that doctor at all?” Abby asked as she pushed her plate to the side.
Mark shook his head. “He came into the doorway a few times, but never said anything. I'm not completely positive, but I believe he may have some idea of who or what we are.”
Abby bit her lip, her face troubled. “Are you sure you don't want to bring my brother into this? If this doctor actually knows something about you guys, he could be dangerous. It might be a good idea to have someone like Ben on our side.”
Mark hesitated, trying to think of the best way to explain the situation to Abby. She was a believer, and she was open and accepting, but she was also naïve. “Your brother does not believe a word of what I am, and that doubt will always make him suspicious of me. He's protective of you, Abby, as he should be, but that protective nature will cause him to make rash decisions. If your brother, even for a moment, tries to get in my way, I might have to hurt him, and for your sake alone, I don't want that.”
Abby took that all in, her face drawn and pale. It was obvious she was starting to get some idea of what she might be facing, and the fear was starting to set in. “Okay,” she finally said. She pulled her wallet out of her purse and laid a wad of cash on the table. “We should probably get going.”
Mark tried to protest letting Abby pay, but she grabbed his arm, hauled him up from the booth and led the way outside. “Abigail,” he called after her, as she marched to the car several steps ahead.
Abby turned, the light breeze whipping her soft hair around her face. Her eyes were narrow and determined, her trembling hands clutching her sides. “Mark, I'm terrified, okay? The scariest part of this is that I believe everything you say, and my brain keeps trying to reject it, but it doesn't stop me from believing. I'm coming to grips with the fact that I've just taken off with some immortal guy who knew Jesus, and we're now trying to save Judas Iscariot, who apparently isn't the biblical bad-guy I always thought he was, and it's all just a little... a little...”
“Overwhelming,” Mark said as he approached her slowly. He carefully reached out for her, grabbing her upper arms in a warm, firm grip. He could feel her skin, chilled and tense, under his fingers, and he tried to use what little power he had to bring her some peace. “I understand. I was a human when this fell on me. I'm still a human, and sometimes if I stop and think about everything, how long I've lived, what I've done, I get overwhelmed, too. I cry a lot, Abby, if you want to know the truth. I weep and rage and I hate the force that gave me this curse, and all I really want is for it to end. But begging has never worked for me, and I don't expect it to. All I can do is accept my fate and move on. It took me a long time to learn that lesson.
“Your company means the world to me, Abigail, and that’s why I’m not trying very hard to convince you to leave me. It's been a long time since I've had company like yours, so as long as you can keep your fear at bay, I want you at my side. But remember, don't try and not be afraid.”
Abby gave a nod, and didn't protest when Mark pulled her in for a hug. She relaxed just a little in his arms, letting her head rest, feeling the subtle comfort of his hand dragging down over her hair. Mark pulled away from her, holding her at arm's length, and smiled at her now-composed face.
“Shall we?” she asked.
Mark smiled and dropped his arms. Unlocking the car, he waited at his own open door, his face turned up to the sky, his eyes closed. He stretched out his mind, trying desperately to feel Yehuda, to feel his presence, somewhere, anywhere.
Mark found more sparks of others, but when it came to Yehuda, there was nothing, just a sea of blackness. Mark shook his head, feeling a little fear start to burn in the pit of his stomach. He had always been able to sense Yehuda, even continents away, he could feel him when he reached out. This time there was nothing, the absence of him heavy in the air, and Mark began to fear that perhaps someone, or something, had figured out how to shield Yehuda's presence from him.
With a deep breath, Mark got into the car and started back on the road. He knew he wasn’t going to find Yehuda at the hospital, but he might find some answers, and that was at least one step closer.
Twenty
Ben left Abby's apartment more worried than he had been in a long time. He had tried her cell phone four more times before digging up the emergency key and letting himself inside. It was clear she hadn't been home since the morning, her coffee half-drunk on the counter, and none of her supplies were where she usually left them once she got home. Ben drove back to the school and saw Abby's car still parked in the staff parking lot, but she was nowhere to be found.
Trying to keep calm, Ben questioned a few of the other teachers who remained on the campus late, but no one had seen her since the afternoon. Fretting, Ben went back to his office and drew up a missing persons report, determined to file it the moment he finished talking with the doctor.
He had to physically fight the urge to tell every officer to put out an APB in every California County for his sister. Ben reminded himself repeatedly if Abby was with Mark, she went willingly. Even her absurd belief that Mark was some immortal friend of Jesus didn't change the fact that Abby was in love with him and would put herself in a very dangerous situation to prove her loyalty.
Ben was trembling, though he tried his best to control it as he waited at his desk for the doctor's call. He had fixed himself a rather large cup of chamomile tea, and he stared at his computer screen.
The county lab had returned the autopsy results on two of the victims along with a personal and obviously concerned email.
Det. Stanford,
As far as the victims are concerned, I cannot find a single trace of foul play regarding the deaths. However, my biggest concern is that so far, in the autopsies I have completed, both patients seem to have expired due to an accelerated aging of the internal organs. The liver, kidneys, lungs and heart all match the organs I might find in a ninety or even one hundred year old patient, but none of these people were older than thirty-five.
I have no choice but to rule their deaths, so far, as natural causes, though I am researching possible medications or street drugs that might have some similar effect, over prolonged use. I will keep in contact, but for now, here are my official results. I'm going to request that despite the findings, the homicide case not be closed just yet, until I've had time to do further research.
I will be in contact with you as soon as I can.
-Rick Christie
Ben read through the email several times before sitting back in his chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure what that meant, how t
hose people could all be ruled natural causes if their deaths were so similar and so sudden. How could comatose patients stroll out of their beds, disappear for two weeks and then turn up dead from accelerated organ failure?
The ringing cell phone startled Ben and he jumped, grabbing it off the desk with shaking hands, and saw it was the doctor calling. “Are you in town?” he said.
“Yes, detective. I'm afraid I'm a tad lost, but if you can point me in some direction we can talk, I'm sure this won't take too long.”
Ben hesitated, trying to think of a safe place. Though he trusted the doctor to a point, he wasn't comfortable bringing the man to his personal residence, and taking him to Abby's was out of the question. His office would not be an ideal place since he had no idea what kind of information this doctor would have, and he knew that Mark's apartment was probably going to be discovered vacant soon and the detectives on the John Doe case would be watching the place.
“We should probably meet at a cafe somewhere,” Ben eventually answered. “I'm afraid with everything going on, it's the only safe place I can think of.”
“There's a rehabilitation center on the corner of Cherry and California,” Greg said, “and I believe there's a small cafe directly across the street from there. Would you be willing to meet there?”
Ben could hear an ulterior motive in the doctor's voice and he hesitated. “Why there?”
“It's necessary,” Greg replied shortly. “I promise I will tell you everything there.”
“You do realize I'm a detective, with a gun, and an entire department that will hunt you down if anything goes wrong?” Ben warned.
“I promise that won't be necessary.”
Ben sighed and looked at the clock. “I can be there in half an hour.” He didn't wait for the doctor's conformation before he hung up. He turned off his computer, stuck the printed files from his cases in his brief case, and managed a terse goodbye to those still in the station this late into the evening.
He threw his case onto the passenger seat in the car and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. It felt like his life was suddenly careening out of control, and he wasn't sure why. Ben had spent his entire life trying to make sure he was put together. His mother, the hectic and fickle life she led drove Ben into the field of police work, wanting structure and the detective work had provided.
Now, however, he was struggling to understand his sudden wellness, his sister disappearing, a man who claimed to be immortal, a case with no plausible, scientific explanation for the deaths of the victims, and a doctor who wanted to meet but refused to give any information over the phone.
Ben let out a breath and tried not to think of Abby as he put his car into drive and headed for the cafe across the street from the hospital. He arrived sooner than he expected, the lack of traffic surprising him, and as he found a spot close to the cafe, he saw the doctor getting out of his impossibly large SUV.
Shaking his head at the absurdity of the entire situation, Ben didn't wait for the doctor, but instead went inside and immediately ordered a decaf espresso, craving the taste, and having no need for the caffeine boost. He was just paying for his drink when the doctor approached.
Instead of his lab coat, the doctor was clad in a sweater and pair of jeans, making him look years younger, which surprised Ben. He smiled, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and he extended a hand to Ben.
“Thank you for this meeting,” he said softly.
“No problem,” Ben said.
As Ben received his drink, he waited for the doctor to receive his, and eventually the pair settled in a small booth near the back of the cafe. Luckily for the both of them, the cafe was all-but deserted.
“I'm sorry for all the secrecy, Mr. Stanford, but telling you what I know could potentially put me in quite a bit of danger.”
“Please call me Ben,” he replied to the doctor, trying to give the man a sense of informality. It was a technique Ben had learned in his younger years, a psychosomatic way of urging people to reveal information more readily than they normally would.
“Ben, yes, and you must please call me Greg.” The doctor paused and took a drink of his hot latte. “When we first met, I was already intrigued by your John Doe patient. I was informed that prior to being brought to my hospital he had sustained wounds that seemed to have closed on their own, before he was treated by paramedics. The officers on scene managed to retrieve blood samples from the floor which I was able to match to the patient. You know also that I found a rather startling discovery regarding the bacteria in his body and puzzling genetic code.”
“Yes, we did discuss that,” Ben said, fearing now the doctor might have bought into the ridiculous Judas Iscariot story. “What of it?”
“It’s also true you’re working on the cases regarding patients going missing from their beds,” Greg continued as if he hadn’t heard Ben’s question.
Ben nodded, sipping his drink. “Yes, I am. How did you know that?”
“I happen to work at a hospital where it’s happened several times,” Greg replied. “I’ve been looking into it, considering there hasn’t been any sign of forced entry.”
“And you think the John Doe is a similar case?”
Greg shook his head, his eyes shifty, telling Ben he was hiding something. “No. The circumstances are very different. However I have uncovered some information I’d like to let you in on, Det—I mean, Ben, and if you’ll care to accompany me to my office here, I’d be happy to show you.”
“Show me what, exactly?” Ben asked, a little more than suspicious, but also far too curious.
Greg said nothing, but grabbed his keys, forcing Ben to follow him outside to his massive SUV. He unlocked the car and said nothing until Ben was inside, and he turned the corner toward the hospital.
“Where are we going?” Ben pressed, touching his gun to ensure it was there. It wasn’t often he just jumped in a car with a total stranger, though he’d been in far worse trouble and he was certain he could take this doctor down without any real force if he needed to. “I’d like an answer.”
Greg looked over at him, took a deep breath and then said, “I’m going to show you exactly what happened to those patients.”
Twenty-One
Abby fell asleep a few hours into the ride, as Mark pushed forward on the eight hour drive to the city. He kept his mind stretched as far as he could, searching for some sign of Yehuda, but so far it was still just blackness.
It was impossibly late by the time they arrived at the hospital parking lot, nearly two o'clock in the morning, and the gates were locked up. Mark drove around, searching for a place where he wouldn't be detected by cameras, and put the car into park.
He hesitated in waking Abby; she was exhausted from the drive as well as the fear and emotions coursing through her. The trip was only beginning, and if someone was shielding Yehuda from Mark, things were going to get ugly.
Eventually, Abby stirred and cracked one eye open. “Are we here?” she asked in a groggy voice.
Mark gave a short nod. “The hospital gates are locked. I'm going to have to come up with a way inside without alerting anyone to our presence.”
Abby was growing more alert by the minute. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, peering around the area. They were in a back alley, surrounded by two tall buildings, and just down the way sat the locked back gate to the hospital.
“I suppose it would be pointless to try and just climb the fence,” Abby said with a shrug.
“Probably so,” Mark said, closing his eyes in thought. “We need to remember this isn't a prison, nor is it a hospital containing the mentally unstable, so security isn't going to be high. There's a chance we could find a place to slip in where cameras aren't placed, and all we really need to do is get inside the doctor's office.”
“Are you absolutely sure he has something to do with this?” Abby asked.
“No,” Mark answered her honestly. “However, I know the doctor is... special.”
“Special?”
Mark struggled to explain what he meant in a way that Abby would be able to comprehend. “You have to think of life beyond just human consciousness, and what lies beyond can sometimes touch people in their lives. That touch can sometimes mean a curse, like what happened to me, and to Yehuda. Sometimes that touch is simply just a touch, leaving people with a spark. Because of my curse, I can see those sparks, like little flames inside a person's soul. The doctor has such a spark, and with his interest in Yehuda, I'm afraid he's my number one suspect.”
Abby stared at him with wide eyes. “So there are others like you?”
“Not exactly like me. In all of my years I've not met a person who could not die, however there have been many who possess certain abilities that could only be gifted from what lies beyond.”
Abby rubbed her face with her hands and shook her head. “God, I wonder if any of it will ever make sense.”
“Don't count on it,” Mark said a little sardonically. “I'm over two-thousand years old, and capable of very strange things, and I still don't understand it all.” With that, Mark opened up his car door and got out.
Abby followed suit, but stopped Mark as he started towards the hospital. “Do you have any means of... you know... defense?”
Mark quirked an eyebrow. “Defense?”
“Well I hate to say it,” Abby hesitated, “but you know maybe like a gun, or something? I mean, you said earlier that you might have to kill.”
“I don't need guns, Abby,” Mark said gravely, and with that, he started away.
Abby followed close behind, but stayed back when Mark held out a hand for her to stop. He nodded for her to slip back against the building, her figure darkened by the deep shadows of the late night, and he moved forward to the fence.
The Awakening (The Judas Curse Book 1) Page 14