by DB Carpenter
Mike said, "I don't care if I'm just an errand boy."
Sarah stared blankly at her friend. "I guess we could use the help," she said finally. "When are you going to be ready to go?"
"Right now," Camilla said. "I just need to talk to Albert about a few things and then we can leave."
Sarah left to get her things. Even though she was still angry with him, she wanted to talk to Seth, who was probably almost to Eureka by now. She needed to hear some reassurance from him. Just a simple 'Everything's going to be alright.' would do. Their house in the woods was about twenty miles out of town. It was the perfect place for anonymity. In Humboldt County, people respected land and privacy. With all of the marijuana farmers up there, snooping around was highly discouraged in a variety of ways.
As she threw the last few things into her packed her bags, Mike slipped silently into the room.
"I hope you aren't upset with Camilla," he said softly, but his voice still startled Sarah, who turned and glared at him.
She went back to zipping up her bag as she said, "I'm not mad, just surprised, that's all."
"Why are you surprised?"
"Because I thought that everything except financing was my responsibility. Camilla would raise the cash, and I'd do the rest."
"It's got nothing to do with your competence, Sarah. Camilla has nothing but the highest regards for your abilities. We just think you could use some extra man-power."
Sarah finished with her bag and turned to Mike. "Thanks for saying that. I'm sorry if I seem a little bitchy; there's just been a lot of pressure lately."
"I understand," he replied as he and Sarah reached for her bag at the same time. Their hands touched and their eyes met for a split second.
"Let me get this," Mike said.
He picked up her bag, and Sarah followed him down to the foyer where they waited for Camilla, who appeared almost immediately, jingling keys in her hand. "Is everything okay?"
They both nodded.
"I'm driving to the airport," Camilla said. She obviously didn't drive much.
"Where's Albert?" Mike asked as they all walked toward the garage.
"In his quarters. He'll be heading up tomorrow morning with the truck. There're a few things that he needs to attend to here first."
They all climbed into the sporty BMW convertible, and Camilla drove frighteningly fast down the short, twisting driveway.
8:57 pm Quincy, Massachusetts
The bright light blinded Chris briefly, and he involuntarily started to jab the poker forward, expecting the person to suddenly leap up and attack. To his horror, he saw that Pell lay slumped against the door, his chest covered with the dark crimson of blood and a handcuff dangling from his right wrist. The scene in the woods a few days ago with David Rose flashed through his mind.
"Pell!" He dropped the poker and knelt beside him.
Chris echoed his name several times, gently shaking his shoulder. Nothing. He continued this for several minutes until finally Pell's eyes opened. Slowly he focused on Chris and a faint grin bent his lips as he said, "I bet you're surprised to see me?" He coughed softly.
Chris nodded – surprised was an understatement. "What happened?" He asked as he pulled open Pell's shirt to inspect his wound. Pell had already applied a makeshift bandage made from a piece of ripped clothing. From the quantity of blood, it had to be a nasty wound. "We need to get you to a hospital."
"I can't," Pell said. He recited the day's events in a soft, strained voice sounding like a quadriplegic who used a mechanical ventilator to fill their lungs before they could speak.
When he got to the part about the cop, Chris exclaimed, "You shot a cop! Again?"
"It was an accident. I couldn't let myself end up in jail while Sarah Burns and her cronies are out changing the future of mankind," tears rolled down his cheeks as he turned away, ashamed of what he was about to say. "I couldn't let Carl screw me again."
Chris sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall. Somehow he had to get him to the hospital.
"I think I know how we can find Sarah Burns," Pell said.
"How's that?"
"She was very close to Camilla Haywood back in college."
"You said that, Pell. But what are the odds that they still see each other? How many of your friends from college do you still see?"
"I know, but it's all we have to go on."
"Maybe so..."
Pell went limp. Jesus, was he dead? He leaned forward, listening for breathing. It was there – faint, almost inaudible.
"That's it," Chris said. He wouldn't be a spectator to another death. He stood up and was about to go call 911 when Pell snapped out of it.
As if he didn't realize that he had been unconscious, he continued. "I made a couple calls on my way down here," he said. "I know where Camilla Haywood is, I've got her address and confirmation that she's in the country and at her house in California. You've got to go find her. Don't let Carl Moscovitz break open this case. Do it for me."
"Look, I've done my part. It's not my place and besides, if I get involved now, after what you did today, I'll probably end up in jail."
"You won't end up in jail. Not once they know the truth."
They who? But he was more than just a little intrigued by the proposition. Meeting Camilla Haywood would be worth the trip but how was he going to arrange to talk to a famous celebrity just like that. He wasn't cop or FBI agent. Why would she even agree to talk to him? Still, maybe this is what he needed – a little vacation. He'd go find Camilla and if by some miracle he did manage to speak to her and she did know where Sarah was, he'd call Carl Moscovitz and tell him everything. It would also get him away from the mess his personal life had become. Give him some distance and time to start what would undoubtedly be a long and arduous healing process.
"All right," Chris said slowly. "I'll go find Camilla. On one condition."
"What's that?"
"That you let me take you to a hospital."
Pell's chin dropped onto his chest. "I don't want to go to jail, Chris," he moaned.
"It's not negotiable. I'm not leaving you here to die and that's that. Either you let me take you to a hospital, or I'm going to dial 911 right now and wash my hands of this whole thing."
Pell drifted in and out of consciousness until finally he said, "She's in Malibu, California. Here's her address." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pants pocket and handed it to Chris.
"So you're going to let me drop you off?"
Pell nodded but wouldn't make eye contact.
"Good. Be right back."
Chris grabbed his always packed overnight bag, threw it into Pell's rental car and then dragged Pell's limp, heavy body out of the house and placed him in the passenger seat. His face was a ghastly white, his eyes sunk deep into their sockets and his breathing was now completely inaudible. He's wasn't going to make it to the hospital.
Chris would take him to Mass General and catch a cab to Logan. Getting a flight to LA wouldn't be a problem.
Once in the city he parked Pell's car just around the corner from the emergency room at Mass General. Pell was unconscious.
"Good luck, Pell," he muttered as he got out of the car.
He walked half a block and used the pay phone at a convenience store to call the emergency room. He stood outside the store and watched as ER staff appeared on the street and located the car. He could faintly hear them talking excitedly as he started searching for a cab.
7:22 pm PDT Humboldt County, California
Seth looked at Jerry. The western sun shone brightly on his two-day beard-stubbled face. The lush, green hills of Humboldt County stretched out below them. They were almost there.
Jerry had done all of the flying and he had been able to catch some sleep. His burns throbbed, but he had a feeling that once he dressed them properly he'd be doing a lot better. They had only stopped four times for rest and fuel, which they were running low on now, but it didn't matter. Eureka was less than
twenty minutes away, and then they would be on the ground, hopefully, for a long time. He couldn't stand to sit for too long, and the past thirty hours had been torture. That and the constant whine of the engine had combined to give him a hellish tension headache.
"You okay?" Seth asked.
Jerry didn't answer him.
"Jerry!" Seth said louder.
"What?" He asked.
"I asked you if you were okay."
Jerry nodded. "I'm spent. Man, I can't wait to hit the shower." He sniffed the air. "You could use one too."
Seth chuckled. They cruised on in silence for several more minutes before Jerry said, "I wish we could have given the others a proper burial. Dumping them in the woods seems so…barbaric."
"If they'd have been more careful we wouldn't have had to bury anyone," Seth said. He didn't have the time or inclination to grieve, particularly for failures and he still had to deal with Sarah. She was going to chew his ass out, guaranteed. Hell, he couldn't remember ever shedding a tear over death – not for his mother or grandparents, definitely not for his load of a father. The last time he could remember lamenting a loss was when he was fourteen. He had found an orphaned kitten in a dilapidated house across the alley from his own. Big tough Seth had kept it in a box on the back porch. It had been tiny, defenseless, sick and he nursed it back to health. He called it Bo – a bright spot in his otherwise bleak teenage world. Thinking back, he could still hear its soft squeaky meows as it did face rubs with him. One day he came home and Bo was gone. He found it in the trash barrel, dead. His father had broken its neck for no other reason than he was a useless, angry drunk who hated his son. He had buried Bo and cried – for the last time.
"Do you think Sarah will be waiting at the house for us?" Jerry asked.
Seth forced himself back to the present. "I don't know. We're a little early. We made great time."
"I hope she isn't. I could really use some rest before we have to debrief on everything."
"Don't worry about it, Jerry. If she starts in with us, I'll take care of her."
"There it is," Seth said, pointing to the Eureka city airport.
Jerry banked the plane, and they made a beeline for the landing strip. In a matter of minutes, they were out stretching their cramped, achy bodies.
Twenty minutes later they were driving through the redwood forest. Looking at the soaring, monolithic trees always gave Seth a feeling of peace. To him the massive trees represented a serenely surreal permanence in an otherwise transient existence. Jerry drove, and they rode in silence with their windows down.
It was clouding up. The next ten miles went by slowly as they turned off the main road onto a gravel-packed one carved out of the old-growth forest by a lumber company decades ago. The fertility of the land spawned tremendous greenery – lush fields, pristine forests and wildflowers. This felt like the Earth's womb – a place where life begins. Just as the Midwest spewed industrial filth to kill the northeast's forests and lakes with acid rain, this place spewed life in all shapes and forms. The air was sweet enough to taste and he savored it.
"When are the Carriers going to be here?" Jerry asked.
"Friday."
In a couple of minutes, they turned onto an even narrower dirt road that led directly to the house. From the outside, it didn't look like much – a two-story barn-like structure that had been built in the 50's and was just under six thousand square feet. Jerry had spent three months here earlier this year getting it ready for them – retrofitting it with expensive solar panels and a generator and doing a bunch of general maintenance. Now they had a completely self-sufficient, out-of-the-way place to conduct business. In that respect, it was actually quite similar to where they had been in Maine except there was a good size city twenty minutes away.
The driveway was empty, the large house dark.
"Beautiful," Seth said. "It looks like we beat them. Let's go in and catch some sleep before they show up."
"Sounds great," Jerry replied through a yawn. "I'm spent."
Inside the musty house each of them went straight for his room. Seth dropped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the events of the past few days. Things had to take a turn for the better.
11:45 pm Quincy, Massachusetts
"We urgently need to question him," Carl said to the doctor and his intern.
"My patient is not in any fit state to be questioned. I understand your urgency, but my priority here is for my patient's wellbeing. He is still delirious and in very real danger of dying," the doctor explained.
"This guy just shot a cop. He didn't care about that cop's wellbeing. He has critical knowledge of a very important investigation that we need to extract from him. If he's going to fall into a coma or die, we need to speak to him before that happens. Lives are at risk here," Carl said.
"His condition is critical. Do you know what that means?" The doctor said.
"I don't care what it means," Carl replied.
"Well I do and, right now, his life is hanging in the balance. If we can get him stable, you might be able to question him. Our focus right now is saving his life," the doctor said as he turned and headed for the door. His intern was obviously confused, not knowing what to do, support his boss or the authorities.
Carl motioned to Irving to shut the door and block it as he walked after the doctor.
"Out of my way," the doctor said but Irving stood firm.
Carl reached out, grabbed the doctor's shoulder and turned him around. "Look, I think we got off to a bad start. Let me –"
"Stop it. You're not listening. We have a critically ill patient here and the first and foremost duty of every member of the staff in this hospital is to our patient's health. I cannot, and will not, let you question my patient until I deem he is well enough to be questioned. That is my final word on the matter."
Carl's face reddened with every word from the doctor's mouth. "You're the one who isn't listening, doctor. I'm the god damn FBI. If I want to question that son of a bitch, I damn well will."
"I'm afraid that's not your call. And if you go against my instructions I will have you thrown out."
"Ok, I get it. This is your domain. But don't fool yourself. You may be the king of this hospital but we're the government and we need to question him immediately."
"I've said all I'm going to say. Move out of my way."
Carl exchanged a quick glance with Irving then said, "Fine, Irving will stay here and keep me updated. The second he comes around, we need to speak to him and if you think you can hide behind your Hippocratic Oath, you're mistaken."
9:45 pm PDT Humboldt County, California
The headlights reflected off the pickup truck parked in the driveway and lit up the dark house beyond as the car came to a stop and Camilla, Mike, and Sarah climbed out.
"This is it? It looks like a dump, Sarah," Camilla said. "I figured a half a million bucks would have bought a castle up here."
"No such luck but this place has everything we need, and it's out of the way. No one will know we're here," Sarah replied. She had paid the real estate agent with cash, and he hadn't seemed at all surprised. "It's nice inside and we've got almost fifty acres – lots of privacy, nobody is going to just happen to stumble by. It looks like Seth and Jerry are here."
"The place is dark, they must be asleep," Mike said as he hauled their bags out of the trunk. Sarah and Camilla grabbed the groceries.
"Let's not wake them up," Sarah said as they climbed the front steps. "They've been going straight since Tuesday."
Sarah turned on some lights as they went to the kitchen. The walls and ceiling were lined with rustic, rough-hewn wood that absorbed the glow from the lights, muting it to the point that it seemed like candlelight.
Camilla made them peanut butter sandwiches and coffee.
"So what're the plans now?" Mike asked as they sat around the table eating.
"We've got to wait for Mark to get here with the truck. Then we can set up what we need for the
implementation phase," Sarah said.
"What's that involve?" Mike asked.
"Primarily our network. We need to be able to track where the Carriers have been and what they've done. We also have a satellite dish that we'll hook up so we can monitor the news feeds and get internet access. It won't take too long for someone to realize that something is going on; I'd say within four or five months, on the outside – probably more like three. Then we just sit back and watch."
When it was time to go to bed, Sarah showed Mike where he could sleep, and led Camilla to her room.
"Well, this is it, Camilla," Sarah said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "This is when it all truly starts. It's been a long road, but I'm glad that we stuck with it." Sarah felt a wave of emotion pass through her. She had been working on the project for eighteen years – it had been like raising a child and now she was more than ready to set it free on its personal life-long odyssey and watch the results unfold from afar.
Camilla put her arm around Sarah. "We've been through a lot to get here. We owe it all to you, Sarah. Without your dedication and commitment, we could never have made it to this point."
"Thanks," Sarah said as Camilla pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Don't thank me."
"So what happens when this is all done?" Sarah wondered out loud. "I've dedicated my life to my work. The past eighteen years have all been about getting to this point. And then what? I've never really thought beyond this. What will I do next? It will be like a huge void in my life and I'm not sure what comes next to fill it."
Camilla laughed. "Are you kidding me? What's next is you go on vacation."
"Vacation?" Sarah said as she stared off into the distance. "I can't imagine it."
"I can," Camilla replied. "But there's going to be plenty of time to think about what's next, Sarah. Once Gen96 is out, you're going to have nothing but time. When was your last vacation?"