“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” Williams said. “Patience is not one of my virtues.”
“Nor is it one of mine,” Johnson said. “Sorry, I’m late. I got caught by Lorraine in the hall telling me I had papers on my desk requiring my signature right away. So, what did I miss??”
“Almost all of the test subjects have received injections,” Blake said. “I’ll be monitoring them throughout the day. I’ll call you immediately if anything happens.”
“I’m sorry about your vacation,” Johnson said.
“No problem. I would have been bored by tomorrow. If this works, it will be worth coming back early.”
“Always a trooper,” Johnson said.
“That’s the last of the injections,” Julie said, joining them near the door.
“None were missed?” Blake asked.
She shook her head. “Every subject received their dose. The technicians are filling out their paperwork now. Would you like the rats returned to the rooms?”
“Let’s leave them out for a little while,” Blake answered. “I’d like to observe them a little longer.”
Julie nodded and moved back to the tables, leaving Blake to scan the cages from the distance. If anything was going to happen, it was unlikely to be today but he was too curious to let them put the cages back just yet.
“Well, good luck. I have to meet with Doctor Benson in half an hour. Let me know if you see anything before then.”
“I doubt we’ll have anything to report by then but I’ll let you know,” Blake said. “I’ll hang back here a little longer.”
Blake watched Williams exit the lab before returning his attention to the rats, silently praying for the serum to work.
CHAPTER tHREE
Helen Jones stepped off the bus, waiting for the driver to open the bay so she could retrieve her luggage. She’d just arrived home from college, hoping for a rest after a hard week of final exams. She’d been informed a week before leaving campus that her grandmother, Abigail, had passed away, eliminating any dreams of rest for the next week or so.
The other passengers crowded around the side of the bus. Helen stayed back, not wanting to feel smothered among the tight group. She needed space and hated being in the crowded terminal, to begin with.
The driver opened the bay door and started hauling the suitcases out, lining them up on the pavement. Grabbing her bags after the group had dwindled in numbers, Helen started into the terminal in search of her parents, who would be waiting to pick her up.
She shuffled along, still weighed down by the sadness of the news about her grandmother. She had looked forward to coming home until she got the phone call. Now she knew there would be only loneliness to look forward to. The expected celebration would now be replaced by mourning, her joy of returning being replaced by an inner ache.
“Helen, we’re over here.”
She turned to see her mother, Bernice Jones calling from a bench near the door. She looked worn out, her eyes still puffy from crying. Helen’s heart sank even further at the sight of the woman. Her own grief had been hard enough to contend with. Seeing her mother brought a new wave of sorrow over her. She fought to hold back the tears that suddenly stung her eyes.
“Hi, Mom,” she said. “Is the car nearby?”
“Let your father carry those bags to the car. Come here and give your old mother a hug. Heaven knows I could use it right now.”
Helen embraced her mother for what seemed like hours instead of seconds before turning to wrap her arms about her father. This was not the happy greeting she had hoped for. She forced a smile before following them across the pavement to the parking garage and to the third floor of the parking garage where the car was parked.
Her father, Richard Jones, put the luggage into the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat. Though he had always hidden his feelings well, Helen could see in his eyes how the loss of Abigail had taxed him. His eyes were dark underneath, likely from tears and lack of sleep, combined with grief and stress.
Bernice was missing the happy smile she always had before, but Helen knew it would return once she’d gotten through the grieving process. Her father was a little down, but he had likely been remaining strong for Bernice. Her father still smiled as he looked in the review mirror at her but it was not the same genuine smile he always seemed to be wearing. Helen just kept telling herself that time heals all things.
They drove in silence at first, each in their own thoughts until they were out of the city and heading down the interstate. Before long, they were passing through the small towns and into the more rural areas.
“How was your semester?” her father, bringing her back from her distant thoughts.
“It was fine,” she said, looking out the window at the trees as they passed. “It’s amazing how much you miss the quiet of the small-town life when you’re at a big city college, though.”
“Well, you may be missing the big city life after a few weeks in this quiet town,” he said. “Did you make a lot of friends while you were there?”
“A few, but most of the students just wanted to drink and smoke weed every night,” She said, rolling her eyes as she remembered the noise in the dorms during the nightly parties. “Makes it tough to study in your room. I practically lived in the library the whole semester just to get enough quiet time to focus on my papers.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about that with you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get home for the calling hours,” She said apologetically.
“It’s fine, Honey. We understand you didn’t want to scrap a whole semester by missing a few finals.”
“I know, but I would have liked to have been there. I wish I had been home before Grandma passed on so that I could have seen her first.”
“Things rarely work out the way we plan,” he said, looking ahead at the road. “Especially where death is concerned.”
“At least the rain is supposed to hold off for the funeral. It could rain tomorrow night and the night after, but not during the day,” Bernice said.
It was the first thing she had said since they had gotten into the car. She was not normally this quiet, always the talkative person during car rides. This silence was something Helen never expected from her mother.
“A lot of rain lately?” Helen asked, realizing she had not been keeping up on the weather here while she was away.
“It never seems to stop,” her father said.
“Well, hopefully, you heard right, Mom. I would hate for there to be a storm during the funeral.”
“Me too,” Bernice said. “Where would you like to eat lunch, dear?”
“The diner would be great,” she answered. “I have been looking forward to one of their burgers since I left the campus.”
“The waitress there, Rita is always so nice,” her mother said.
“As long as she brings burgers, I’ll be happy.”
“The diner does sound good,” her father agreed. We’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”
Helen spent the rest of the ride lost in her own thoughts. She thought about how the summer would be without her grandmother there every day. Abigail had been such a big part of her life. She wondered how her parents would be after the funeral. Hoping things could begin returning to normal, or as normal as possible. She didn’t want to spend the summer in a house of grieving. Helen understood they would need time to heal but didn’t want to be an emotional wreck by the time the fall semester rolled around if her mother spent the entire summer crying.
As they passed the new hotel when they entered town, she thought about applying for a summer job there. It hadn’t been open for business yet when she had left for college. It was nice enough on the outside and she found herself wondering what the inside looked like. Maybe it would get her mind off things if she worked and kept busy. Besides, the extra money would be nice once she was back on campus. She decided she would come back after the funeral and get an application, hoping they would not have h
er cleaning the sheets. She would love to work at the front desk or in the kitchen, but the thought of touching dirty sheets that a complete stranger had slept on made her skin crawl.
As they pulled into the parking lot in front of the diner, the smell of greasy food infiltrated her nostrils, clearing her mind of all else.
* * * *
Sheriff Rob Daniels and his deputy, Jim Tucker sat at their desks in the station, reflecting on the day that just came to a close. Rob had his feet up on his desk and Jim sat with his elbows on his own desk, his forehead resting on his hands.
“I need a drink.” Jim sighed.
“I could use one myself,” Rob said, opening his desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. “Join me?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Jim answered, already standing up and walking toward him.
“I’ll have one, too,” came a voice behind.
Shirley Wilson walked in from cleaning out a cell, eying the bottle sitting on Rob’s desk. Rob always kept a bottle in the drawer, only bringing it out on rare occasions after work. He preferred to drink at home, alone. Occasionally, he would share a drink with Jim and Shirley, the only two people he spent much time with.
“Careful, Shirley, there’s no telling what the sheriff might try to do to you if you get drunk,” Jim warned.
“That could be considered sexual harassment,” Rob muttered before draining his glass.
Shirley sipped at her drink, taking her time with it. Pouring himself one more glass, he returned the bottle to its resting place before putting his feet back on top of his desk.
“We’d have to send Jimmy home first,” Shirley said with a smile. “His poor innocent eyes couldn’t handle it.”
“I’d videotape it and post that shit on the internet,” Jim said. “I would title it ‘this is what happens when your grandparents drink too much.’ I could probably sell copies all over town.”
“Watch the grandparent label,” Shirley said sternly. “We aren’t much older than you.”
“Just wiser than you,” Rob added.
“Whatever, old man. You can’t even remember where you parked your car half the time.”
“I parked outside somewhere.”
“Any faxes come in while we were gone?” Jim asked.
“Nothing,” Shirley answered.
Jim shook his head. “We deal with domestic disputes, teenagers selling weed and then patrol all day. Apart from the guys shooting up the front of the bar earlier today, this town gets more and more boring.”
“I like the quiet life,” Rob said. “I’ll take this over the drug busts in the big cities any day of the week.”
“It’s nice for the most part,” Jim agreed. “But a little excitement would be nice, at least once in a while.”
“Maybe there will be a bar fight for you to break up this weekend,” Rob said.
“As interesting as you two are, I better get home,” Shirley said, glancing at her watch. “I have to make some dinner and watch my shows.”
Jim eased out of his chair. “I think I am going to head to a bar first. I might see if I can rustle me up some action. If there’s no fight to break up, then there must be some desperate woman drunk enough to go home with me for a night.”
“Take your handcuffs,” Shirley said. “Drunk women love handcuffs.”
“Got a few minutes, Jim?” Rob asked.
“I can spare a few. What’s up?”
“Just something I want to talk to you about.”
“Uh oh,” Shirley said. “The bad kid has to stay after school. I’ll see you boys in the morning.”
When Shirley had left, Rob picked up three pages from the top of his desk and handed it to Jim. The deputy gave a confused look before taking the paper from Rob’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a job description.”
Jim looked puzzled. “You want me to apply for a job in the Capital District?”
Rob nodded slowly. “You’re a good deputy but this small-town life will keep you in this position until I’m no longer sheriff. You deserve something where you can move up the ladder. It’s not likely to happen here unless I die and my position opens up.”
“I like what I’m doing here.”
“You just said you wanted some action here and there.”
“Here and there,” Jim agreed. “Not every single day. I didn’t mean it that way, earlier.”
“Look at me,” Rob said. “I’ve been here since I was your age. I’m not going any higher than this. Do yourself a favor and think about it, okay? I know some people in that district. I could pull some strings. It’s not a big move, only a little over an hour north.”
Jim stood up and folded the paper before stuffing it into his pocket. “I’ll think about it. I promise.”
“Good. Now get out of here.”
“But if we get some action here in the next few days, I’ll most likely make up my mind to stay.”
“Get out of here.”
“See you in the morning.”
“On more thing,” Rob said as Jim placed his hand on the doorknob.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t tell anyone I said you were a good deputy. I still have my reputation as a hard ass to think about.”
Jim laughed as he walked out the door, leaving Rob alone to contemplate whether or not to pour himself one more glass of bourbon.
If we see some action in the next few days? He thought. We never see much action here.
CHAPTER fOUR
Day Two
Julie Walsh set the cages containing the test rats gently on the countertop, doing her best not to shake them up at all. There were two rats per cage, allowing plenty of room for the rodents, as well as socialization with at least one other rat.
Julie was one of the veterinary technicians who had been working in the rat rooms since the facility opened four years ago, allowing her to become familiar with nearly everyone on staff at NeurAx. She had graduated from one of the local colleges. Unfortunately, she could not afford to remain in college for a higher degree. When NeurAx had sent a staff of doctors and human resource personnel to recruit graduating technicians from the Veterinary Science department, Julie had interviewed and could not turn down the salary they offered her, and the health insurance package sealed the deal. Her hope was to return to college someday, but for now, she felt that her work here was important. Because of her dedication, she had been promoted to lead technician the previous year, taking her extra duties very seriously and delegating tasks to her technicians on staff.
Her lab partner, Joel Spence, had been there for slightly less than one year but proven to be more than capable with injections, blood collection and necropsies. The doctors had a great deal of respect for him, often commenting to her regarding his technique. His work ethic and attitude helped him secure his position on the PEF07 team, along with recommendations from Julie and Doctor Blake.
Joel needed very little supervision, which Julie liked about him, no matter what job she assigned him to. During the times she was required to be absent from the lab, she would leave Joel in charge of the project technician staff. With recent talks of Julie getting another promotion, this time to a desk job, Joel was noted as the first choice to move into her position.
The two had begun seeing each other outside the lab for the past several months, though they were able to keep their personal feelings out of the laboratory. No one seemed to have any idea they were involved beyond the professional environment. Though she’d developed some rather deep feelings toward him, she had trouble determining just how involved he was emotionally. He was often difficult to read. Both were career minded, however, while she was dedicated to her position, Joel seemed nearly obsessed with his work.
They spent the next several minutes going over each rat, hoping to be finished with a preliminary examination by the time the doctors arrived, ready to answer questions and assist in any way they were required. Shortly after t
hey’d finished, Doctor Williams, Doctor Johnson and Doctor Blake all entered together, each bearing a look that appeared to be a mix of hope and nervousness.
“How are they looking today?” Doctor Williams asked.
“Better than we were hoping,” Julie answered.
“Better than we were hoping?”
“Well, every one of the subjects is running around the cages with no signs of any previous nerve damage,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they are completely healed, by our observation,” she said with excitement, then noticing the puzzled look on his face. “Why, what’s wrong?”
He tapped his finger on his chin a moment before answering. “That’s too fast. Are you sure they are showing no signs?”
“None whatsoever. Look for yourself.”
“We believe you, Julie, but we’ll follow protocol and go over each rat ourselves, just as a secondary examination,” Doctor Blake said.
The doctors went cage by cage together, each taking out rats individually and going over them. One by one, they found that Julie was right. Every one of them had achieved a complete recovery.
“This is impossible,” Williams muttered.
“I thought this was what we were looking for,” Joel said, sounding confused.
“It is,” Blake confirmed before turning his attention to Johnson. “But this is too fast. I know we added new accelerators, Ben, but this is only twenty-four hours.”
Doctor Johnson looked at the two technicians. “Did you give them the correct dose?”
“We followed the instructions to the letter,” Joel said. “Do you want to go over the lab sheets to make sure there wasn’t an error?”
Williams took the clipboard, carefully looking over the pages. “They’re all correct. I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either,” Johnson said. “But I told you my new accelerators were going to work.”
“If you want us to set up another test group with a smaller dose, we’ll be glad to start on it this morning,” Julie said.
Threshold Series (Book 1): Threshold Page 2