His original belief that he was dealing with a skin rash or internal parasites of some kind was completely gone. The weals were evenly spaced and there was an order to them, almost like his body was performing a defined function as they manifested themselves. He wondered if he would get any more, but he doubted it. For some reason, he felt that they—whatever they were—had played themselves out.
He lay in bed and took a deep breath, glum that the lesions still existed, but very grateful that the pain in his head had finally abated. That was enough to almost put him in a good mood. Almost.
As he lay there, he became aware of a voice, which at first sounded far away. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on it and a moment later, it was suddenly much clearer. It was Jen and she was on the phone with someone. It sounded like she was just outside the bedroom door.
“Tell me again what department you are with, Doctor Chavez?” she was saying.
Silence. As clearly as he was able to hear Jen, he could not make out what the person on the other end was saying.
“But why would the CDC have any interest in my husband?”
A pause.
“I see.”
Another pause and Jon concentrated harder, trying to hear the other person’s voice. It came to him as a low buzz, but he was unable to make out the words.
“Well, I will pass along your message to my husband, Doctor Chavez,” Jen was saying, and her voice sounded worried. “If he’s able, I’ll have him meet you there.”
Jon was rolling out of bed and padding toward the door when he heard her finish the call. “Yes, I understand, doctor. Thank you for calling.”
He opened the bedroom door, Jen’s name on his lips, but she wasn’t there. That struck him as odd and he walked down the hall, thinking maybe she had ducked into the bathroom as she finished up the call. She wasn’t in there, either.
“Jen?” he called out loudly, wondering how she had disappeared so quickly. “Jen, where are you?”
“Oh, Jon, you’re awake.” Her voice floated up to him and he heard her coming up the stairs—only it wasn’t the main staircase that he was standing near. She was coming up the basement stairs, located on the other side of the house.
His forehead creased in thought, he hurried down the stairs, meeting his wife in the living room. “How’d you get downstairs so quickly?” he questioned, looking around.
“What do you mean?” she asked, casting him an odd look.
“Weren’t you just outside the bedroom door?”
“No, why?”
“I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone.”
“I was on the phone, Jon, but I was downstairs.”
“Oh,” he sighed, clearly not at all accepting of what had just happened. “I must have been imagining things.”
“How do you feel?” she asked, changing the topic and running her finger lightly over the two welts underneath his eye.
She did not know how far the malady had progressed, as he had taken measures to make sure she didn’t notice. He wanted to know what he was dealing with before he burdened his wife any further with the knowledge of how far the welts had progressed along his body. “Actually, I’m feeling better,” he said truthfully. “That headache is finally gone.”
“Oh, Jon, I’m so glad,” she smiled, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. He took her in his arms and kissed her back. “The welts still bothering you?” she asked, looking into his eyes.
“Not so much.” This time he lied. They were very much bothering him—or at least, they concerned him. Not only did their apparent order on his body completely unnerve him, but they continued to throb and pulse in time with his heartbeat. He would be glad to get to his appointment and have the hospital biopsy one of them, so they could figure out what he was dealing with.
“Well, I’m glad you’re starting to feel better,” she said and kissed him again. “I kept breakfast for you.”
“Why didn’t you wake me when you got up?” he asked. It was out of the ordinary for him to sleep late and even stranger that she did not waken him.
“I tried,” she answered. “You were so deeply asleep that nothing I did could get you to move. For a moment there, I thought you might have slipped into a coma again.”
“That bad?” he asked, returning her embrace, amazed that he could feel her heartbeat clearly through her clothing. His own heart abruptly skipped so that it matched time with hers and, suddenly anxious, he pulled away before his heightened senses could pick up the third heartbeat, beating faintly within her belly.
“Dead to the world,” she replied, patting his cheek with a smile. “But I’m glad you’re up now. I fixed you...”
“Blueberry pancakes,” he finished absently.
“How’d you know?”
“I can smell them.”
Jen looked at him doubtfully and sniffed the air. Her sense of smell was very sharp and she couldn’t smell the pancakes over the scent of spring flowers wafting in from the open windows. “Jon, I cooked breakfast hours ago,” she said. “The pancakes are the fridge. I fixed you a breakfast plate that you need to heat up.”
“Oh,” he said, his mind still wandering. He heard the tell-tale clicking of nails on the kitchen floor well before Dakota came trotting through the door. The big wolf started into the room and then stopped abruptly. He raised his nose into the air, sniffing.
“Dakota, you big dummy,” Jon grinned, dropping to his knees and holding out his hands, glad for the distraction. “Come here.” Normally, that would be the huge animal’s signal to rush forward and bowl Jon over as the prelude to a wrestling match between the two of them. But this time, the wolf continued to sniff the air before finally lowering his head and issuing a long, low growl. His hackles rose and he slowly began backing his way into the kitchen.
Jon watched in shock and then looked up at his wife, who looked equally confused. “Now what’s gotten into him?” he asked.
Jen shook her head, watching their beloved pet disappear into the kitchen. Looking down at her husband, who was still crouched on the floor, she saw something that made her start. “Jon, what’s that?” she asked, reaching down and touching the top of his head.
Jon climbed quickly back to his feet, pushing her hand away before he realized what he was doing. “Nothing,” he snapped.
“Jon, you have those welts on your head, too,” she went on, not backing down.
“Yeah,” he finally admitted, refusing to meet her gaze. “I’ve got a few of them, but I didn’t want to get you all worried.”
“How many?”
“Just a few.”
“How many?” she pressed.
“A few!” he growled, his anger rising quickly. “Damn it, Jen, just leave it alone! I’ve got an appointment at the hospital tomorrow. We’ll find out then what they are when they cut one out of me.”
Jen took a step back, the look of hurt clear on her face as she studied her husband’s suddenly angry features. They had been together for a long time and certainly had their share of disagreements. But in all the time she had known Jon, he had never sworn at her.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, knowing he had gone way over the line and not understanding why. “I’m just stressed, that’s all.”
“I’m stressed, too, Jon,” she countered, folding her arms across her chest and seeming to shiver. “But I’m your wife. We’re supposed to be in this together.”
“I know, I know,” he sighed, but turned away, resisting the urge to take Jen in his arms and fix everything with a kiss. No, there was something lying just underneath the surface of his consciousness and it was gnawing at him. Right now, he just wanted her to leave him alone. “It’s been a rough few days,” he went on, trying to inject some normalcy to his voice. “Just give me a little space to work things out in my head. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Sure, Jon,” she said, but the hurt was still deep in her voice. She straightened and cleared her throat, attempting to put it behind her, or at least h
ide it. “Why don’t you grab yourself some breakfast. Plate’s in the fridge,” she reminded him.
“Thanks,” he mumbled and turned toward the kitchen. He stopped and looked at her again. “Jen?”
She returned his glance and brushed a strand of hair from her face as she met his gaze.
“Look, I’m sorry, babe,” he said, meaning every word. “I’ve been acting like a jerk, I know. I guess this whole ordeal messed me up more than I care to admit.”
“Just remember I’m here,” she said softly. “Let me help.”
“I will,” he answered. “As soon as I get back from the hospital, we’ll figure this thing out together.”
“Together,” she repeated and gave him a smile. As he turned back toward the kitchen, she stopped him. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “That phone call was from a doctor at the Center for Disease Control.”
“The CDC? What do they want?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It was a Doctor Chavez and he wouldn’t say specifically what he needed, only that it was imperative that he speak to you.”
“When?”
“Tonight, if possible,” she answered. “He said he flew in last night and was booked into the Red Lion off I15. He left his number.”
“And he didn’t say why?”
“No. He only said that it involves the FutureTek case.”
“Hmmm, I wonder if Doc Douglas contacted them,” he wondered, walking toward the kitchen. In truth, he couldn’t think of any other reason they might be looking for him. He stepped through the doorway and was immediately hit by 120 pounds of angry gray wolf.
“Dakota!” Jen shouted as the wolf and her husband rolled into the room, Jon suddenly yelling obscenities and Dakota’s huge jaws clamping down on his arm, tearing into his flesh. Jon rolled backward, literally throwing Dakota away from him. Jen immediately rushed forward, tangling her fingers in the wolf’s thick fur. “Dakota,” she said firmly. “Heel!”
The wolf bucked against Jen’s grip, turning and snapping at her as well, his teeth scoring her hand. “Dakota!” she screamed, grabbing her bloody hand to her chest. “Heel!”
This time the big wolf’s demeanor changed, as if he realized what he had just done. Dakota whined and sat back on his haunches. He looked up at Jen and then back to Jon, who was standing with his hands raised in surrender. The wolf seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself over what he should be doing right about now and Jen knelt down beside him and nuzzled his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked, true concern in her voice.
Jon began to step forward and immediately Dakota’s whine turned back to a growl and his body tensed again.
“Jon, stop!” Jen commanded, holding out her bloodied hand. “Just back away. Get out of here until we can figure out what’s going on.”
“Yeah, sure thing, hon,” Jon answered shakily, doing as his wife said. “You going to be okay?” he asked, nodding toward her hand.
“It’s just a nip. Get your arm cleaned up while I calm him down.”
Without another word, Jon backed up and then turned and went into the kitchen. He didn’t need to see what was happening in the living room to know how she was handling it. He could hear Jen clearly as she whispered to Dakota, calming him down. She had that effect on him whenever he got riled up, which was not very often. But this? This was a side of Dakota that Jon had never seen before.
While Jen murmured quietly to Dakota in the living room, Jon went to the sink and ran cold water over his arm, washing off the blood. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt and what he saw as the blood washed away made him go cold inside. Dakota’s teeth had gone deep, puncturing his flesh in numerous places. But incredibly, the bite marks were nearly gone, the flesh healing up at a rate that Jon could actually see with his own eyes.
Sucking in his breath, Jon hurried out of the kitchen and to the basement. He grabbed some clothes out of the clean laundry basket and quickly dressed. He pulled on a pair of running shoes and then, without telling Jen where he was going, he slipped out the basement door and into the late morning light. He had a lot of thinking to do and being around Jen and Dakota wouldn’t help his thought processes at all. He needed time alone. He needed to think things through and find out what was happening to him.
As he took off at a jog, his mind played over the events of the morning and he suddenly realized where he needed to go. Jen had said that Doctor Chavez from the CDC was at the Red Lion and looking for him. That would certainly have to shed some light on things, particularly in light of what had just happened. For a CDC rep to come all the way out of Atlanta, it had to be because Doc Douglas had called them. And in light of his tangle with Dakota and what was happening to him, he had even more reason to find out why the man was looking for him. Besides, whatever the outcome of the meeting, it couldn’t hurt.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Chapter 20
Local Office of Homeland Security, Helena, Montana: Rick Alders was seated at the conference table in his office, flipping through a file folder of paperwork he had on Jon Sherrard, when the two uniformed individuals were ushered into his office. Closing the folder, he slid it underneath a second and then stood up, offering his hand to each of them individually, merely a formality on his part. “Major Bolson,” he greeted, his voice devoid of any friendliness. “Lieutenant Martz. Good to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Bolson said, taking note of the agent’s cool demeanor as he politely placed his hand on the back of an empty chair. “May we?”
“Please,” Alders said, indicating the two chairs on the opposite side of the table. The two military personnel sat and then looked at him expectantly. He knew the routine. Clearly, they were here to see just how much he knew without divulging much, if anything, themselves, which was perfectly fine with him. However, what he planned on sharing with them was about to shake the very foundation of their world.
“I suppose you’re wondering why we asked to meet with you,” Bolson began after a bit of an uncomfortable silence.
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” Alders replied, deciding that keeping his cards close to his vest in the beginning was his best approach. “But why don’t you humor me and let’s see how much or little I actually know.”
Bolson cast an uneasy glance at the lieutenant and then cleared his throat and nodded. “Very well,” he began. “We’re here to talk about the report you filed,” he said and then waited patiently for Alders to fill in the blanks.
“Come on, major,” Alders said, a thin smile on his face. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”
Alders leaned forward, both hands folded on top of one of his file folders. There was a barely-contained fury simmering just under the surface and he narrowed his eyes. “All right, major,” he said. “I’ll play your game. For starters, my educated guess is that you and your fellow techno nerds, at the behest of our government, created the granddaddy of all computer viruses. Whatever the reason for it, it doesn’t matter anymore. This Horde or whatever you’re calling it, somehow got loose in cyberspace, which is what prompted your visit to me today, because I happened to mention it in my report about some desk jockey out gallivanting around in cyberspace, right?”
“Sir, I don’t think we need to be hostile about anything,” Alders said, trying to disarm the man before it got out of hand.
“No,” Alders snorted. “This isn’t hostility, major. I’m merely demonstrating my disdain for your black ops project.”
“Sir, this wasn’t a black ops…”
“Spare me the denial, major,” Alders spat. “We’re on the same team, so I’ve got a pretty good idea of what happened. And don’t worry, because I don’t care about the specifics. I don’t care how you did it or what makes it tick. I only care that it does exist, it does tick, and it’s loose on the internet.” He paused before finishing. “Or was.”
This prompted another look between B
olson and Martz, and it was Martz who spoke up this time. “Agent Alders, can you explain what you mean by was?”
“You haven’t been able to find it, have you,” he stated. “And I’m guessing that with all your techno contacts all over the world, you’re wondering why you haven’t had any additional reported sightings or contacts from this thing in some time now. Am I right?”
“Sir…”
“Am I right?” he snapped, turning his glare on the female soldier.
Martz finally nodded, but Bolson picked up the conversation and steered it back in his direction.
“Agent Alders, I apologize if we’ve done something to get off on the wrong foot here, but I want to make sure we get back on track,” he said. “I’m not going to take the time to go into details of the project because I’m assuming you have at least the basic premise of what happened. What I’d like to talk about is your report.”
“What specifically?” Alders asked smugly.
“In your report, you stated that this FutureTek employee, Jon Sherrard, apparently had a run-in with the Horde program, while his conscious was separated from his body.”
“Sounds preposterous,” Alders baited the man.
“It does,” Bolson agreed, but he did not back down. “However, I’m guessing that you do believe it and that you believe that it somehow corresponds with the disappearance of the program from the world at large.”
“Go on.”
“May I ask why you believe that?”
“You really want to know?”
“We do,” Bolson replied, keeping his voice neutral.
“Very well,” Alders said, crossing his arms and looking at each of them in turn. “It’s out.”
“What’s out?”
“Your virus.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following you,” the major said, shaking his head in confusion. “Please explain.”
“Your virus is out of cyberspace,” Alders explained. “It’s in the real world now. Our world.”
“You realize how outrageous that sounds,” Bolson said, again keeping his voice carefully neutral. In truth, as ridiculous as it did sound, he and Martz had discussed that very possibility the day before and during their flight in. Their conversation had leapfrogged off their discussion about what would happen if the virus came into contact with a human conscious and into the realm of what might happen if the virus had indeed made a transition from the actual computer world into the flesh and blood world of the human brain. It was a scary scenario, full of unknowns. How this agent had come to the same conclusion was even more troubling.
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