Border Prey
Page 25
“You bitch!” he hissed.
“Trust me, I’ve been called far worse,” I assured him, and rushed for the refrigerator as smoke began to fill the room.
Flinging open its door, I reached in only to feel two sharp hooks clamp onto the back of my suit. Their aluminum tips penetrated the fabric, raking my skin, even as Pierpont’s breathing became uneven and labored.
I strained for the rifle, which was lying on the counter. Sensing what I was up to, Pierpont began pulling a hook from my garment, but his prosthesis became entangled in the torn fabric. He gave a hard yank and the hook broke free, just as my hand wrapped around the rifle and I rammed the butt in his stomach. Pierpont fell backward, ripping a hole in my suit.
Seizing two jars of Pierpont’s milkshake formula, I stumbled towards the air-lock door. I tried to take one last look back through the haze of smoke, but a lick of flame crackled and danced, obscuring my view. Pierpont was headed right where he belonged: straight into the arms of hell, and out of every chimp’s life for good.
I stepped into the shower room, closing the door to Pierpont’s lab tightly behind me. My own inferno raged as I stood in the chamber, unsure of what to do. A thunderous pounding at the end of the hall brought me back to my senses. Kitrell was peering in the glass window at me.
“Don’t open the door!” I cried out, half in alarm, half in tears. “Pierpont caught me in his lab. I’ve been infected with anthrax!”
Kitrell’s face blanched beneath his forest of beard. His disembodied voice boomed through the intercom. “Listen carefully to me, Rachel, and do exactly as I say. All right?”
I nodded, unable to speak over the sob which was blocking my throat.
“First put down what you’ve got in your hands. Then stand beneath the shower head closest to you and turn it on.”
His voice became my a life preserver as I placed the bottles in a corner, started the shower and kept my eyes closed. A chemical spray rained down upon my head, washing away the anthrax spores.
“Okay. Now take off the suit and look for a shower with a knob marked ‘water spray,’” Kitrell instructed. “There should be a bottle of bleach solution nearby, as well as a bar of soap.”
I was grateful my bra and panties were on as I pulled off the gloves, the boots, and self-consciously slipped out of the Tyvek suit. I’d never felt so completely vulnerable.
Dan’s voice entered the room once more, this time his tone as soothing as the one he’d used on the coyote. “I’m sorry, Rachel. But I’m afraid the underwear has to go.”
“What!”
“Everything you had on in that room has been contaminated. You don’t have a choice. First wash yourself down with bleach solution. Then rinse it off and shower again with disinfecting soap. That will keep you from being infectious. Just do it, Rachel. I promise not to look,” Kitrell vowed.
My pulse roared with the fury of a Molotov cocktail, and every inch of my skin felt on fire. I glared at Kitrell until he’d turned around, then I stripped out of the last two garments. A rush of water was my only cover as I vigorously scrubbed my hair and flesh as hard as I could. Having finished, I went to retrieve the jars.
“Where are you going?” Dan’s voice echoed throughout the chamber in alarm.
Damn it! Of course he was going to snatch a peek, being a typical male.
“That’s the antidote,” I explained, holding my temper in check. “Pierpont infected me with a mutant strain of anthrax. He planned to use it on the chimps, then give them the antitoxin in those jars as its final trial run.” I moved toward the bottles once more.
“You can’t, Rachel!”
Dan’s voice stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned and stared at the man, no longer caring that I was naked. “What are you talking about? I’ll die if I don’t take it!”
“Those bottles were in the room with you. They’ve been exposed.”
His words only added to the fire already flaring in my body.
“I’ll wash them off,” I persisted.
“It makes no difference. They could still be contaminated.” Kitrell explained. “Just come out and we’ll get you started on a dose of doxycycline, along with a vaccination. We need to leave before anyone else finds us!”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? I was infected with a hybrid strain of anthrax. The vaccine is totally useless!”
“Then we’ll figure something else out. But you can’t drink anything from inside that room once it went hot!” Dan insisted.
I knew he was right, and I began what felt like my death march. Each step drummed home the legacy I’d be leaving: a broken relationship, dirty dishes, some secondhand furniture, and an office of messy papers. That’s when I remembered Pierpont’s compulsively neat office and the mini-refrigerator.
“Wait! I know where there’s another batch of antidote!” I shouted in relief. “Pierpont’s office is down the hall. You’ll know it by the sculpture of a hybrid chimp sitting on the desk. Next to it is a stainless steel fridge containing more of these jars!”
I shoved open the shower room door, determined not to let Pierpont win, and Dan covered me with a towel.
“Get dressed and meet me at the elevator. I’ll go find the antidote. We’re getting out of here now,” he instructed.
I grabbed Kitrell’s arm as he started to leave. “What about the chimps?”
“They’re already loaded in the van, along with the baby. Now hurry up!”
I threw on my clothes, stuffing the disks and Panfauna’s receipt in my pocket while keeping my .38 revolver firmly in my grip. Kitrell was already holding the elevator door open when I arrived. He slammed his palm against the button and the door closed. Two containers of the antidote sat on the floor, and next to them was Pierpont’s laptop computer.
The following moment, the shriek of a fire alarm went off, chasing up the elevator shaft after us. We exited into the lot and dashed toward Lambert’s van. The tunnel howled in anger as Kitrell started the engine and our vehicle tore through the black abyss. I pressed the red button we’d passed on our way in, the barn doors flew open, and we peeled across the desert terrain. The van didn’t stop until we reached the Flying A ranch house. Then Kitrell slammed on the brakes.
“Drink the antidote, Porter,” Dan ordered, picking up the milkshake.
I angrily blinked back the tears which began to well up in my eyes. “What if it doesn’t work?” I asked, hating to admit my fear.
“It will, Rachel,” Kitrell replied, popping off the jar’s lid. “Pierpont tested this stuff. The chimps were just his grand finale. Besides, what have you got to lose?”
I nodded, perfectly aware I’d unwittingly become Pierpont’s ‘gold standard’ test. “All right. As long as you agree that we destroy these.” I revealed the three disks labeled “Hybrid Experiment,” “Viruses,” and “Clones,” reserving the one marked “Antidote.”
Dan placed the bottle in my hand. “It’s a deal.”
I drank the chalky liquid, not stopping until I reached the bottom. With every sip I cursed Pierpont, while I prayed his formula proved to be successful. Then, leaving the van, I placed the disks in front of the Suburban’s tires and watched as Kitrell ran over them. But even that couldn’t quell my rage.
Jerking open the passenger door, I caught a glimpse of Gracie holding her baby, and thought of Pierpont’s plans for the helpless infant. Though his disks had been destroyed, his malignant recipes still hid in one last place.
Grabbing hold of the laptop, I pulled it out and swung it against the alarm’s concrete post until it smashed into irretrievable bits. Only when Pierpont’s demon had been thoroughly exorcised did I climb back inside the van. I was ready to head home.
Epilogue
“I don’t want to hear any arguments. Just drink,” Tia Marta ordered, watching me with an eagle eye.
“Yecchh! What is this stuff?” I lifted my shoulders and shook my head, hoping it would make the aftertaste dissipate faster.
“All you need to know is th
at it’s good for you,” Tia Marta scolded. “Besides, I’m making frijoles and enchiladas for lunch. That’s better than the hospital food they forced you to eat, isn’t it?”
I’d been out of the hospital for a month, but Tia Marta wasn’t about to let me forget my one week stay. Especially since she’d been caught trying to sneak in meals. She still insisted I couldn’t leave the house without at least one cleansing a day.
A rap on the door revealed that Sonny Harris had stopped by for a visit.
“Got some mail for you,” he announced, slipping a can of Tecate beer into my hand.
“Thanks,” I said, and quickly took a sip. Tia Marta had banned alcohol, declaring it helped mask any evil spirits that might be lingering. My personal view was that they’d probably appreciate a drink.
“I also brought some peach cobbler,” Sonny remarked, displaying a covered dish.
I could tell he’d been spending more time at Miss Mae’s by the amount of weight he’d gained.
“Is that you in there, Sonny Harris? Come into the kitchen right this minute!” Tia Marta commanded.
Sonny rolled his eyes and threw me the mail. We both knew she was probably holding an egg in her hand. “By the way, I’ve got something else to give you after I come back a newly cleansed man.”
I began to flip through one envelope after another, my stomach rumbling hungrily at the whiff of enchiladas which floated in the air. The phone rang and, as usual, I secretly hoped it was Santou.
“Let me guess. You’ve already downed a gallon of creosote tea today.” Lizzie’s voice giggled.
“Don’t forget the quart of honey mesquite and cat claw that Tia Marta brewed,” I grumbled.
“Well, I think you deserve time off for good behavior. What say I swing by later and pick you up for a wild Saturday night out on the town?” Lizzie offered.
“I’m not an invalid, you know. I can get around on my own.” It wasn’t that I minded being pampered; it just made me nervous. I figured my friends knew something about my condition that I didn’t.
“I know you can, but I want to show off my minivan. The name of my new nightclub is painted on it,” Lizzie bubbled.
“Now all you have to do is start construction, and set an opening date,” I teased her.
“Okay. So I’m a little overenthusiastic,” Lizzie responded blithely.
After F.U. landed in jail, Lizzie learned he’d secretly placed the majority of his assets in her name. His reasoning had been that if he ever got into trouble, no one could touch his money. Except for his wife, that is.
“I get at least one letter a day from him trying to convince me it doesn’t mean squat that everything is in my name. He says I should know in my heart it’s still rightfully his,” Lizzie had confided. “I wrote back to him that my heart goes by the name which appears on the checking and savings accounts—and thanks for giving me the Happy Hunting Ranch and the house.”
The Happy Hunting Ranch had been turned into a wildlife preserve, where only cameras were allowed to shoot the animals. As for her nightclub, it was guaranteed to be a success. The F.U. Krabbs case had been the biggest thing to hit El Paso in years, and you couldn’t buy that kind of publicity.
I agreed to let Lizzie pick me up around six.
Sonny waited until I was off the phone before sticking his head around the corner. “Hey, Rachel. Word on the street is that Admiral Maynard’s operation is about to be shut down.”
“Who’s doing that?” I asked in astonishment.
I’d been trying to put the final nail in Maynard’s coffin after finding Panfauna’s receipt inside Pierpont’s desk, but there wasn’t enough evidence. So although I was happy Maynard’s primate sweat shop would be folding, I felt short-changed at being left out of the process.
“You’re the one closing the bastard down,” Sonny said with a wink, and threw me a large manila envelope.
I quickly looked through the contents and found all the paperwork F.U. claimed had been destroyed, detailing every shipment coming through Maynard. Even Timmy Tom’s missing papers were included in the lot.
“How did you ever get hold of this?” I inquired incredulously.
“It seems the admiral and his wife discovered the alien father of their daughter’s unborn child is really the very human boy next door. They were so angry, they kicked Helen May out of the house. I guess they should have checked her luggage first.” He chuckled.
“But that doesn’t explain how it came into your hands.”
“That’s the funny part about this whole thing. I’ve been teaching Helen May’s boyfriend, Billy Bob Holder, how to track. He knew I was a friend of yours, so he and Helen May decided to pass these papers along. I just don’t know what you’re gonna do with all those monkeys the admiral’s got,” Sonny added.
I smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Lizzie will provide them with temporary housing at the Happy Hunting Ranch.”
“In that case, I’ll leave the rest of the footwork to you. Just let me know if you need a hand,” Sonny replied.
“Will do.” I suddenly felt a whole lot better about life.
“I’m going back into the kitchen before Tia Marta gobbles up all the peach cobbler. I am invited to stay for lunch, right?” Sonny asked, patting his paunch.
“Absolutely,” I replied. “Just give a holler when the enchiladas are ready.”
I set the manila envelope aside and went back to sorting through the mail, when my heart came to a stop. In my hand was an envelope with no return address, in unfamiliar handwriting. I carefully ripped it open, and a few photographs fell out. There was also a sheet of paper which beckoned to be read.
Will send you an address where we can be reached as soon as I know it’s safe. At which point, we expect a visit! Thanks again for helping me to regain my family. I couldn’t have done it without you, Rachel. Enclosed are some photos so that you won’t forget us until then.
Dan
I picked up the Polaroids and gazed at the family of man. There was a photo of Dan with Gracie in a pose I’d previously seen, but both were seven years older in this updated version. Man and chimp were touching fingertips in their own private language, with Gracie clearly reveling in her newfound freedom.
I slowly picked up the next picture, anxious to see the photo, yet somewhat afraid. A happy baby girl smiled at me, her inquisitive eyes cornflower blue. She’d never have to worry about spending her life being infected by Pierpont, or making people laugh while trying to balance on roller skates. Gracie and her baby were finally safe.
“Rachel! Lunch is on the table!” Tia Marta called from the kitchen.
I looked at the photos once more, before stashing them safely away. Then I got up to join the people who’d come to form my own family of diverse souls, knowing all was right with the world.
Acknowledgments
Thanks go to Doug McKenna, USFWS Special Agent extraordinaire; Dr. Thomas Butler of the Southwest Foundation for Biomedical Research, for his time and knowledge; Caree Vander Linden of the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases at Fort Detrick, Maryland, for her technical advice; Shirley McGreal of the International Primate Protection League and Wally Swett of Primarily Primates, both of whom have dedicated their lives to the plight of primates in the U.S. and abroad; Patsy Asher, whose heart and hospitality are as big as Texas; Barbara Link and Diane Barendse, for making many calls and introductions on my behalf; Adair Margo, for giving me an insider’s view of El Paso; Alex and Patti Apostolides, for those oh-so-necessary martinis.
And finally to George, who diligently read and reread my manuscript. The man deserves the Medal of Honor.
About the Author
JESSICA SPEART writes about envirnomental and wildlife issues. BORDER PREY is her fourth Rachel Porter mystery; she is currently working on her fifth book in the series. Jessica lives in Connecticut with her husband and their two dogs. Max and Tallulah. You can contact her at www.jessicaspeart.com.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BORDER PREY. Copyright © 2000 by Jessica Speart. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © MARCH 2007 ISBN: 9780061847615
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