“Did it cross your mind there might be more than one Harley Evans in the world, Smith?”
Huai Li felt her cheeks flush with anger, but she kept her head down, and her voice steady. “I think they were in the safe zone, Mr. Rhodes. The girl is wearing the same kind of slippers they issued there.”
“Cheap goods from Taiwan, Smith. You can get them anywhere,” Rhodes spat, his bottom lip bobbing as he spoke. “But I see where you’re going with this. You think that it’s unlikely both things are a coincidence.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Again, so what?”
“I’m not sure yet, but if they were there, then they had to be involved with what happened and with the escape? What if they know something?”
“So, what if they do?” Rhodes grumbled. “They can’t prove anything. We detonated the entire unit that night. There were no survivors. No evidence is left.”
“Exactly, sir.”
Rhodes commenced his constant drumming, his pudgy fingers thumping on the desktop. The way he shook his head told Huai Li he wasn’t buying the idea. She was going to have to lay it out for him, point by point, as she often had in the past.
“Sir, if those two were at the Safe Zone when Harley was there, they have to be the ones who got away with the missing files from the restricted research facility. Harley was only there for a short time, and to my knowledge, no civilians were scheduled to be relocated outside the facility during the entire month before the incident.”
“How do you know for certain that no one was taken elsewhere?”
Huai Li couldn’t help it. Her head snapped up, and she stared at him for a moment. “Because that’s when you first authorized the use of human test subjects.”
His eyebrows raised in a rare instance of surprise. “Must have slipped my mind,” he mused.
“As you know, we made sure no other civilians escaped that night. The grounds were torched before the facility was detonated.” Huai Li watched his face for some sign he was following her logic. “We have to find out what, if anything, they know. If I’m right, we also need to find out where they put the documents. I’m sure they’ve stashed them somewhere.”
The big eyes peering through Rhodes’s fat lenses rolled upward. “Is that all?” he asked, frustration evident in his tone.
“No, sir, I think they, along with at least one other person, may have been involved in trying to euthanize Harley.”
Rhodes’s jaw slowly slackened. Realization flickered in his eyes but then disappeared. “But we have no evidence anyone tried to kill the specimen. She could have just died from the virus, or another unknown injury, right?”
Huai Li paused and watched him for signs that she might be regaining his trust. “There wasn’t time for testing, but I examined her myself. I saw her vitals, and I monitored her blood tests. She was not that far advanced in the disease process. There was no reason for her to die so quickly.”
“What makes you think these two would know how to euthanize someone? Wouldn’t that require advanced medical training? And more importantly, why would they attempt it in the first place?”
“Yes, it would require training, and that’s why I think there was at least one other person with them who believed Harley was in danger, and who helped plan and carry out the attempt to euthanize her. Why? I don’t know. They may have planned it to put her out of her misery. If they have the missing records, however, they may know much more about our experimentation with human subjects than we would want to be revealed to the public.”
Rhodes gave a sharp inhale and reared back in his seat, causing it to creak under his weight. His expression darkened, and his eyes darted back and forth as if he were searching for answers hanging in the air around him.
Huai Li realized she had to offer up her suggestion now, or she might never have another opportunity. She swallowed hard and leaned forward before speaking. “Sir, you have to let me leave with them. I have to get them to trust me enough to tell me where the records are and identify anyone else who was involved with this. You need to know who they are to keep them from getting what they know to the media or the government.”
Rhodes’s head turned sharply to look at her. “Government? I am the government,” he growled.
“Yes, Mr. Rhodes, you are,” Huai Li acknowledged, “but there are still others in different offices and branches who would oppose your work if they knew about it. And there are likely others who would jump at the chance to take over your position. The viruses aren’t ready yet, we need more time.”
“Why should I trust you with this, Smith? You do want something. That’s why you’re telling me this, isn’t it? You’re not planning an escape to try to find Mendel are you, because if you are, I can tell you now you’ll never succeed.”
Huai Li felt a new wave of hostility wash over her. “No, that’s not the reason,” she said, struggling to maintain calm. She couldn’t let him know how he affected her because it would only encourage more cruelty, or worse. “I know Mendel is safer being away from me than with me. No, this concerns me because my name is on this work, too. I am as much at risk as you are. I want you to let me escape with the two in the waiting room so they’ll confide in me, and I can get the information we need to stop them.”
Rhodes peered at her, his eyes narrowing behind the glasses. “Fair enough,” he said. “Stewart, escort the good former doctor to the research theatre.”
“Wait! What?” Huai Li jumped to her feet as Stewart’s massive hands grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides. “No! I won’t go there!”
Rhodes smiled and calmly tapped out a code on his phone. “Oh, you’ll go, Smith.” He turned his phone screen toward Huai Li. There, on the display, was a pre-teen child sitting at a desk, holding a book. His thick, black hair and large, intelligent eyes confirmed it was indeed Mendel.
“This is Rhodes,” he said into his phone. “Turn the camera so Huai Li can get a better view of her son.”
“Mendel?” A woman’s voice spoke off camera. “Come here for a minute.” The boy smiled.
The image on the phone jerked and shook as an unseen person picked it up. It bounced back and forth for a few seconds, showing glimpses of a room and a hallway. Ahead, the camera zoomed in on a doorway secured by a barred gate, a few feet down the hall. Just past the gate, inside a gated room, Huai Li could see there were four other children, all close to Mendel’s age, all showing early but clear signs of infection, with the characteristic discoloration of their skin and dark shadows beneath their eyes.
Mendel stepped into view and walked toward the gate.
Huai Li screamed and clapped her hands over her mouth when she saw the top of Mendel’s head as he passed the camera. Part of his hair had been shaven away, and a bandage was affixed to his skin.
“What have you done to my son?” she screamed.
“Calm down, Smith. I consider Mendel to be an asset, and he will be well cared for. I assure you, we have no interest in Mendel being harmed, physically. We want him to be…content, maybe even happy. We’ve just saved him years of hard work slaving away in a classroom. He has his father’s brains now, literally, as well as from some of our other research subjects, and we’re delighted to report smashing success. The cells have been readily incorporated into his own brain structure. Mendel hasn’t had formal education yet, but he’s showing advanced ability to process written language and perform mathematical operations. If we could just get past the physical development problem, imagine what we could do.” Rhodes removed his glasses, and using his tie as a cleaning cloth, he swiped at a spot on one lens. “People say they grow up too fast, but I’m finding they don’t grow fast enough.”
“You sick son of a bitch!” Huai Li screamed, lunging toward the desk.
Stewart grabbed her and squeezed. She struggled in his arms and threw her head back into his chest in an attempt to break free. It was no use. He was a mountain of a man, and she was no match for his strength.
“I said, calm
down!” Rhodes said. “We did him, and you, a favor. Mendel’s brain has been given cells from the world’s foremost scientists, as well as from some promising young talent we identified through testing organizations from MENSA, the National Merit program, even a Rhodes scholar or two. There’s no family connection there, by the way…”
Rhodes held up his hands in a gesture that conveyed his dismay that the advantages seemed lost on Huai Li.
“But, why, and…how?” she asked.
“I’d think the why would be obvious, to make Mendel the most valuable future scientist on the planet. The how was a little more complex. After the depot explosion, we dispatched military into the infected areas and engaged in some judicious pruning, killing the infected, but also taking out witnesses and a few select individuals for research purposes. A few soldiers were left behind, embedded in infected zones, gleaning samples from remains after zombie attacks. It’s expedient, you see, to let the zombies do the procurement for us. The soldiers move in afterward and pick through the remains. Truth be told, though, we’ve scavenged about all we can from that, and I think we need just one more sample…with your cooperation.”
He spoke into the phone, “Show us a close up of the gate, please.” The camera zoomed in closer on the doorway to the room containing the infected children and focused on its gate. The electronic lock and arm mechanisms, clearly detailed.
Huai Li felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Rhodes craned his neck to look at the phone screen, which now showed the boy standing in the hallway looking at the children behind the bars. “Yes, that’s right. Mendel’s playmates, who would love to eat, …I mean meet him, are just itching to come out and have fun. See that lock right there? It’s a remote-controlled module that is linked directly to my cell. All it takes to open the cage door, Huai Li, is one. Small. Tap.” He paused and smiled at the scientist before tapping the phone. An electric hum sounded on the speaker, and the locking mechanism clicked.
“No!” Huai Li screamed.
Rhodes tapped the phone, and the screen showed the lock sliding back into place. “Don’t worry. As long as you cooperate, we’ll find more suitable companions for Mendel. But getting back to your earlier suggestion,” he continued, “you do have a point, and I’ll let you leave with the two young people out there in the waiting room…if you follow orders.” He resumed drumming his stubby fingertips on the desk, tapping out a maddening cadence.
Ta-ta-tap.
Ta-ta-tap.
“We’ll need to make them trust you. Get them to think that leaving is their idea—not yours. Something that will appeal to their, um…bleeding hearts,” Rhodes’s eyelids narrowed as he searched the darkest recesses of his mind for a means.
Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap.
“Good idea. Yes…that would do nicely,” he said, as if in response to an unseen colleague whispering advice into his ear. “That would also further our research, help with Mendel’s…education, and improve our chances of success in tracking down those missing documents.”
Rhodes returned his attention to Huai Li, “Be assured, we’ll monitor you very closely. You might say I’ll be inside your skin, so don’t even think of straying from the objective, Smith.”
Ta-ta-tap.
Ta-ta-tap.
“Tick-tock, you know,” Rhodes carried on, “but first, there’s the matter of the frontal lobe sample we’ll need, and the tracking chip we’ll embed deep in your brain’s core, where it cannot be removed…while you’re alive. So, just go with Stewart, and you will go quietly and cooperatively.”
Chapter 9
Casey
Kyle’s arm around my shoulders was a modest comfort in the firestorm of twisted deception we found ourselves in. In the immediate present, there seemed no way to get out of the building, much less off the base, without being stopped and detained. The very best we could hope for was to find a way to kill ourselves within this facility. But how? It had to be fire. Otherwise, we would just regenerate. I shuddered at the thought. Could we really do that to ourselves? As the reality of what that might entail became more defined in my imagination, I realized the only means of accomplishing this, that wouldn’t be horrible, would involve being sedated or quickly killed and then burned. We would need help. But who would help, and how?
I watched the workers continuing their processing of other patients in the ward, and I wondered what it might take to gain the confidence of any of them. What did they know about what was going on here? Were they just doing their jobs, or did they understand what BioGenetics was really doing? Did they condone it? Were they complicit?
Inside my brain, the tissues pulsed with pain, and the sensations in my body were becoming increasingly intolerable. My blood burned like a blow torch with a laser-sharp flame, searing its way up and down my veins and arteries, non-stop. Fierce hunger grew inside me, and from somewhere in the room, I detected the faint aroma of chicken. I remembered reading in biology that one of the symptoms of some kinds of seizures was to smell things that weren’t really present. Maybe that’s what was happening to me. On the other hand, perhaps somewhere there was a cafeteria, and they were making dinner for the patients.
Regardless, I couldn’t imagine living with the symptoms of this disease. The virus alone was cause enough to lose hope, but I never imagined being in a situation where our own government and military seemed to have turned against our people, lying to us and experimenting on us like we’re lab animals to them. Into my thoughts, an insane realization crept. If we did manage to kill ourselves, we would be the lucky ones.
The somber voice of an old man drifted through my awareness. “I envy those who are dead and gone; they are better off than those who are still alive. But better off than either, are those who have never been born, who have never seen the injustice that goes on in this world.” The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. “Get tomato sauce,” it said. “I don’t care.”
I checked around me for the source of the strange, disjointed words, but no one was near us. Where had that come from? It had to be my mind playing tricks on me. Maybe a seizure releasing a memory from my mother’s brief foray into religion, when I was in sixth grade. My mind drifted back to an old, conservative church. Presbyterian, I think it was. I remembered the minister droning on about the hairs on my head being numbered and the fact that everything was predestined. God had already determined the outcome, all the way down to the very follicles on my scalp. Why would that be important?
“Scratch your face,” the voice said. Seemingly of its own accord, I watched my hand as it lifted to my cheek.
What the hell? This was madness. I clasped my hands and put them in my lap. The nagging urge to scratch my face gnawed at me. But I’m not itching. I glanced around at others in the room. Who was saying these things?
A chill rushed through me, and my body shivered in response as I noticed a child nearby, scratching at his face. His mother moved his hand away and then appeared to mindlessly scrape at her own. My gaze scanned the rows of seats, and one by one, the occupants began looking uncomfortable as they raised their fingers to their cheeks. I must be developing a fever. I’d heard of certain high temperatures causing delirium. That had to be it. I shifted to look into Kyle’s eyes.
We needed to discuss our plans while I still had the ability to think straight. “What are we going to do when that records technician comes back? We can’t give her any more information now that we know what’s going on here.”
“You’re right. We have to be very careful about any details we provide.” He scratched his head, and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I wonder what they’re doing in there that’s taking so long, and why that guard went in?”
I shrugged against him.
“The important thing is that when she comes back, we can’t tell her what Alice and Wes said unless and until we know we can trust her. Even then, we should leave their names out of it. Just say we heard rumors. We need to focus on getting as much information as we can about this
place, get her to talk.”
I rested my head against Kyle’s chest, and we both jumped when the office door opened down the hallway. Huai Li stepped into the corridor, but didn’t look in our direction. The guard came out after her, and the two walked away before exiting through double doors further down. Kyle and I just looked at each other.
I slumped back into the seat. “I can’t stand this!” I growled.
“Shhh, try to stay calm, baby. I know how you feel.”
“How can you know how I feel?” I snapped. “You’re not sick yet. You have no clue.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know. Not yet,” Kyle admitted, giving me a squeeze.
***
After what felt like hours, the sound of footsteps announced the arrival of a small group of workers. They came into the area and began calling out names and directing patients to follow them. One by one, the infected people and their companions around us were assembled into small groups and taken away, presumably to other parts of the building. As the numbers dwindled, my anxiety increased. What if Kyle and I were separated? Where were we being taken, and what would they do to us when we got there?
Kyle must have been thinking similar thoughts because he pulled me closer with an intensity that felt like desperation. “What are we going to do?” I whispered.
“Just pay attention to every detail. Stick with our plan. Don’t say more than we have to.”
Our names were called, and we were taken with a group of four others and led down several corridors, a series of twists and turns that made it impossible to determine where we were in relation to where we’d been, or where we’d entered the building. Our guide opened a locked door, and we entered a pod-like structure with two stories of compartments resembling jail cells. On the second level, other small groups were being shuffled into the enclosures. Panic welled inside me. “What is this? Are we being put into some kind of prison?”
Kyle grabbed my hand and breathed the word, whisper into my ear. “Our priority now is staying together. Don’t do or say anything to make them think keeping us with each other would cause a problem for them. Understand?”
The Viral Series (Book 2): Viral Storm Page 14