“How long will it be before we know that?”
“Soon,” Jake told her. “His temperature will rise first. It may rise anyhow because of the trauma, but that is the first sign. If he makes it through the next few days without any signs of infection, we may be in the clear. I’ll keep checking and cleaning it, but short of giving him antibiotics, we’re at a loss. I’m sorry.”
Cal swallowed harshly. “I’m not giving up hope. There’s still hope, right? Tell me there’s still hope.”
“There’s always hope.”
“Thank you.” Sadly, Cal nodded once, bent down, picked up the rag from the floor, and slowly turned and walked back to the Billy.
Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA
August 21st - 9:10 a.m.
Amber. Glowing. Thick black smoke bellowing up. The islands of Molokai and Lanai sizzled away as the effects of the napalm reared its ugly head on the screens of the control room.
Greg shook his head slowly. “Let’s . . . let’s turn this off.”
Lyle did, switching to the participants and Stan at the control center. “We’ve still received no word on Billy from Stan.”
“And we can’t see how he’s doing, either,” Greg said. “They have him in that closet.”
Aldo shook his head. “What is it about that closet?”
“All right.” Greg breathed out. “Let’s, uh, get back to what we were talking about.” He waited for the seven investors to sit.
Ivan raised his hand. “Any luck on that tip on Mr. Carrington?”
“No,” Greg answered. “Unfortunately, we’re drawing up nothing, but that tip got us a little closer. He was spotted three months ago with some blonde.”
“The man is like Elvis,” Aldo snickered. “How many ‘Carrington spottings’ have we had?”
Greg laughed. “Too many.”
Douglass shook his head, baffled. “You would think if the man has a possible solution and an end to this like Jefferson, he would come forward.”
“HA!” Aldo scoffed. “Would you come forward if you started all this shit, intentionally or not?”
“Yes,” Douglass said.
“Bullshit.” Aldo chuckled at him. “You would not. Neither would I.”
“You’re right.” Douglass nodded.
“Well.” Greg cleared his throat to get their attention. “Since we’ve established that we can’t count on finding Carrington, let’s get to the realistic phase of what we were discussing before. We’ve decided on a sea rescue. It’s the least disturbing should our amoebas revive from the freeze. The prototype is under construction, but scale testing that began yesterday is showing good results. Not lasting, mind you, but good, and that’s a start. The way we’re hoping it will run is that we’ll freeze the island. We’ll give you the details on the explosives as soon as we have them. We’re in a catch twenty-two because we can’t figure those out until we know our freeze time length. We know we want to lower a boat to what we hope will be the frozen tundra of the beach, Get our people to the boat while the ground is still frozen and move them out into the ocean where our choppers will pick them up three hundred fifty feet away. Barring no more deaths, we figure Jake and Lou will be able to row that boat with no problem and in no time.” He saw Watson, agitated, stand up. “Mr. Watson, is something wrong?”
“I have to get out of here.”
“And go where?” Greg asked.
“I . . . I don’t know. I need air, I just need air.” He bolted toward the door. “I think I’m going home. Yeah.”
Aldo leaned into Douglass. “Christ, another one. Keep all weapons away from him.”
“Mr. Watson!” Greg called out. “I won’t stop you from leaving, but I will remind you of what we saw earlier this morning. Or didn’t you witness what was happening in downtown Los Angeles, rioting worse than with Rodney King.”
“I feel so trapped.” Watson ran his fingers through his hair. “My family is on my mind. I’m stuck here and unable to do anything.”
“You’re protected here and there is nothing you can do,” Greg told him. “Your family is safe. And you should think about your safety as well. What good will it do them if you run out, get in your car, and get killed ten minutes later?”
“It . . . it won’t be too good at all?” Watson had question in his voice.
Aldo whistled and twirled his finger around his own temple.
Greg ignored Aldo’s rude behavior. “Mr. Watson, come back in and have a seat.”
“Could I grab a croissant, too?”
“Yes you may.” Greg spoke to him as if dealing with a child. He took a long, unseen breath slowly through his nostrils as he watched Watson return, pausing at the Danish table in debate. Greg turned his back to the investors, running his hand over his hair. He pretended to look at the monitor screens when actually he was hiding is facial expression of ‘oh boy’.
I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island
August 21st - 8:00 p.m.
No matter how hard they tried, or how loud they played the jukebox, Rickie, Lou, and Stan could still hear Billy’s screams and moans of pain. Was he really that loud, they all had to wonder, or were they tuning in subconsciously? Whatever the reason, they didn’t want to see it get that bad for Billy, they just wanted some relief for him.
Though Billy gave it his best, he still could not control the sounds of pain he experienced. Jake redid the bandages checking the hot dryness of Billy’s skin. Hysterics could have caused it, but Jake feared it was infection more than hysterics.
Cal had moved to the mattress, pillows behind her back, Billy in her arms holding him tight as he held on to her. “Jake, he needs more morphine.”
“I know. I’m getting it.” Jake covered Billy’s leg and reached for the syringe on the floor. He moved around to the side of the mattress and injected the needle into Billy’s leg. “It won’t take long.”
“I can’t take it, Jake.” Billy’s voice shook as he spoke “I can’t. Why didn’t you let them kill me? You should have let me die.”
“I couldn’t do that, Billy. I couldn’t. You think I want to see you die? No. And you have to try.” Jake told him as he stood up. “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”
Clenching tightly to Cal, a small sob came from Billy when he felt the kick move within her stomach and touch against his cheek. “Oh God.” Billy clenched his eyes tight, his hard to control hands felt Cal’s stomach. “I’m never going to see them. I’ll never see the babies.”
Hearing this made Jake stop with a heavy heart in his reach for the door.
Cal’s fingers intertwined tightly through his hair. “Yes, Billy, yes you will.”
“Promise me, Cal. Promise me you’ll tell them about me. Please let them know my name.”
“They’ll know all about you.” Cal comforted him with her soft sad words. “Because you’ll get to see them, Billy. You will be a part of their lives. That I promise you.”
Billy’s words quivered even more as the effect of the morphine trickled into him, calming him down some. His one hand laid on her stomach, the other under Cal as his shaking head slowed down some against her chest. “I love you, Cal. I love you so much.”
Cal’s stroking fingers slowed down and she looked up to see Jake turn from the door and face Billy expressionless.
“Tell me, Cal. Tell me you love me.” Billy’s words slurred just a little, the shaking of them leaving as a grogginess hit him. “Tell me you love me . . . even . . . even just a little and I know . . . I know I can beat this. I’ll try.”
Cal stared at Jake, holding Billy, feeling his warm body still tremble some against her.
Jake looked away, running his hand down his face before turning back to Cal. Whispering he spoke, barely heard, moving lips telling more of what he said than sound. “It’s all right, Cal.”
Cal brought her head lower to Billy, her lips close to him speaking softly. “Can you hear me?” She felt Billy nod. “You are one of my best frie
nds in this whole world. I need you. You hear me. I need you. I love you Billy. And I promise you it’s more than a little. So now . . . you beat this.”
So slightly Jake’s jaws twitched as he walked to the mattress. He laid his lips for a long time on top of Cal’s head. Pulling away he ran his hand down her cheek and whispered, “I’ll be right out there.”
Cal watched Jake leave, and she continued to give her comfort to Billy on that bed until the trembling of his body stopped, the moaning in his voice left, and Billy, finally under the effects of the morphine, slept.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA
August 23rd - 10:30 a.m.
“We just . . .” Greg closed his eyes in desperation, his hand pressing on the table as he leaned over the phone. “We just need more time. We’re almost there.”
“Time is something we can ill afford Greg,” President Wilson said over the phone. “I know you’ve heard. Russia and China have issued a one week warning. One week, and then they move on this thing. That’s if no more of these amoebas are discovered.”
“Did you explain it to them? Did you send them the data?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t they understand the magnitude of this nesting place? We have to get the nest. If we don’t, we’re going to be right back to square one two months from now.” Greg tried his hardest to get through.
“I understand that, but my hands are tied here. I’m the President, for crying out loud. It looks like I am twiddling my thumbs on this whole ordeal.” He paused. “How close are you?”
“Very,” Greg answered. “We’ve been running tests on a small scale in Nevada with the small prototype, and we feel it will work. We have preliminary plans for how we’ll go about the destruction, and we’re just waiting on a date for the completion of the four Lawson Sprayers. Once we have that date, weather predictions, and estimated length of freeze time, we’ll put it in motion ASAP.”
“You have one week,” President Wilson stated strongly. “After that, it’s out of your hands.” Click.
Greg closed his eyes and slowly turned to face the investors and Colin. He spoke no words. His solemn expression of, ‘someone please give me an answer’ said it all.
I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island
August 21st - 11:15 a.m.
The redness of Billy’s amputation was strong on Jake’s mind as he finished making his rounds of checking the control building. He wanted to see how Billy was. He had upped the dose of morphine, but hoped that didn’t trigger the depression Billy had just started to lose.
Jake knocked once on the closet door, but instead of being greeted with a ‘come in’, Jake was greeted with a cloud of smoke that billowed out along with Rickie.
“Sarge, like, how’s it going?”
Jake shifted his eyes to Rickie then to the cloud. “Were you . . . were you smoking illegal drugs in this room?”
“Not me, guy.” Rickie held up his hand then spun and pointed to Billy. “Him.”
Billy was sitting up in bed, pillows behind him. Sluggishly, and with a weird grin he lifted his hand to Jake. Cal snickered as she sat on the floor next to him.
“Rickie, was my expectant wife in the room?”
Rickie scratched his head. “Depends. What was she expecting?”
“No, was she in there while he consumed them.”
“Oh!” Rickie said long and drawn. “No way, guy, I was, like, aware of the bambino situation. I booted the Cal-babe out. Check out Billy. Man, he’s kicking with the combo of the morphine and the peace pipe.”
“You let him smoke Opium?” Jake’s eyes widened.
“Yeah, why?”
“Rickie.” Jake shuddered. “The mixture of the two could kill him.”
“Oh yeah?” Rickie peeked in the room. “Dude, at least he won’t feel it, right? And, like, you said he’s getting worse, so why let the man suffer.”
Jake was humbled. “You’re right. We’re gonna leave this door open. I don’t need my wife and babies mellowing out as well.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not good for them.”
“But, like, with true Indians, don’t you think, like, the babes of the chiefs inhaled it?”
“I’m sure they did,” Jake said.
“Nothing happened to them, guy.”
“Oh yeah, then explain Paul.” Jake walked in the room. “How ya doing Billy?”
Billy smiled and spoke very slowly. “Jake.”
“Yes.” Jake moved to the end of the mattress. “I’m going to check your leg.”
“The stump.” Billy gave a slow thumbs up. “You do that.”
“Jake,” Cal spoke his name with a smile. “Look how good he’s doing.”
“He’s stoned, Cal.”
“Still. Billy’s doing good.”
“Bob,” Billy corrected.
Jake looked up as he undid the bandages. “Who’s Bob?”
“Me,” Billy answered. “Rickie calls me Bob. You know, because he said that’s what I’ll do in the ocean.”
“Rickie is very rude.” Jake could see as he unwrapped the leg that the infection had grown a little, but he tried not to let it show on his face. He grabbed the tube of ointment and gauze that he had always kept next to the mattress. “Besides being high, how are you feeling?”
“Bet me I could run,” Billy said.
“Cal.” Jake looked at her. “How much of that peace pipe did Rickie allow him to smoke?”
“A few puffs,” Cal answered.
“Is there any left?” Jake asked, knowing that it would come in handy when Billy really needed it.
“Hey!” Billy raised his voice, then lowered it down. “You gonna smoke the peace pipe, Jake?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jake said sarcastically as he finished applying the only means he had to fight Billy’s infection. “I’m gonna party.”
Cal had to laugh. Jake sounded so weird saying that.
Billy laughed too. “I’m getting better. Huh?”
Jake took a deep breath. “Um . . . yeah.” He hated to lie, but in this case he had to. If Billy didn’t feel it, that was half the battle. “I’m gonna bandage you back up, and then I’ll let you and Cal dwell in your peace pipe world.”
Billy’s head moved like it weighted too much for him. He swayed it Cal’s way and it dropped when he looked at her. “Cal’s great.”
“Yes,” Jake replied while working.
“She is so great. Isn’t she Jake?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” Billy smiled at Cal. “I love her. Did you know I love her?”
“Yes, Billy, I know this. We all know this. You’ve said it quite a number of times these past couple of days.” Jake tried to finish up.
“That’s because I love her . . . A whole bunch.” Billy’s words were so slurry as he widened his arms.
“Great.” Jake covered Billy’s leg. “I’ll just let you two love birds be.” He smiled at Cal. “I’ll check back.”
“Oh, Jake.” Billy tried to lift his arm, it raised an inch, and he had to use the other one to bring it up. “Wait.”
“Yes.” Jake turned from his leaving.
“I was wondering . . .”
Jake waited. “Yes.”
“I was . . . . wondering.”
Again, Jake waded through the silence. “Yes?” He asked in a stronger tone of voice.
“Would you.” Billy pointed at him. “Would you consider giving up Cal so I could marry her? I would really, really, really, really like that.”
“I’m sure you would,” Jake said.
“Would you consider that? Just . . .” Billy’s voice squeaked. “Just think about it. Please?”
“I’ll tell you what. Sure. Why not.” Jake looked at him. “You beat this thing, you make it to the end of this experiment.” Jake winked. “And you and I will sit down and work out those details.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“
Oh. That is so great. Thanks, Jake. You’re great.”
“I know.” He looked at Cal who shook her head laughing. “Get better Bill. You have to get better or this deal’s off.”
“Got it.” Billy gave another sluggish thumbs up. “And Jake.”
Jake rolled his eyes and turned back around. He kept his cool though. “What now? Would you like my house too, Billy?”
“Yes. But!” Billy tried to lifted his finger but he gave up. “No. I want to thank you for saving my life. You’re the man, Jake.”
“Oh yeah, I’m the man.” Jake held in a snicker looking at Billy totally embarked on a journey of downers and pain killers. “You get some rest.”
“I will.” Billy started to lay down. “Oh, and Jake!”
Cal watched Jake skid to a stop. In a small warning voice she called his name. “Jake.”
Jake smiled and turned around. “Yes.”
Billy lifted his blanket, peeked under, looked up at Jake, and gave yet another thumbs up but with a sloppy wink. “I’m being good. No erections.”
Cal burst out laughing, and Jake’s top lip quivered. He cleared his throat and took on a serious tone. “I am very glad to hear that.” Shaking his head with a slight chuckle Jake left the closet, raising his hand in a wave and informing them like Schwarzenegger, that he would be back.
Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA
August 23rd - 1:30 p.m.
Papers were spread about the meeting table in the control room, papers that contained weather predictions, theories on freezing, and the layout to the explosives. There was also a phone with a direct line to the manufacturers so they wouldn’t get a busy signal. Everything was there but the date that the Lawson Sprayers would be complete.
No more meetings. No more discussions. They had said all that had to be said. Greg, Colin, and the investors sat around the table, staring at the phone. Cigarette smoke lingered above them. With not much to watch on the monitor or television, they sat impatiently like expectant fathers in the waiting room of the maternity ward.
Amoeba (The Experiments) Page 75