“Your boss is an asshole,” said Lopez.
Lucy glanced up at Lopez and did a double-take, seeing Dan’s face peering back at her from behind the visor of his hazmat suit. She blinked the ghost away and bit her lip, trying to stay focused.
Lucy swallowed hard and consulted the clipboard, then mustered the courage to look Lopez in the eye once again.
“Please describe any symptoms you’ve experienced in the past twenty four hours,” said Lucy, fixing him with the most dispassionate stare she could fake.
“Sure, I’m in a glass box on a ward with no other patients, I’ve been told I’m being held indefinitely, and I’ve been denied access to a lawyer,” said Lopez, glaring at her.
Lucy’s eyes closed slowly with regret and resignation, before she tried again. Lopez proved belligerent and evasive in response to every question – though to his credit, he did a good job of obscuring their previous knowledge of each other when describing his movements prior to DC.
“Santa Claus over there spotted a new one on my chest earlier,” said Lopez, gesturing to Harvey with disdain as Lucy asked about the spread of his rash.
“But you didn’t feel it coming on? What about the one on your back?” said Lucy.
“Maybe I didn’t want to look. They’re itchy, OK?” said Lopez.
“Did you come into physical contact with anyone else during or after your field mission yesterday?” said Lucy.
“I didn’t come into contact with anyone during the mission,” said Lopez, looking puzzled.
“Our witness says you touched an infected person at the site,” said Lucy.
“Sure, but I wore a latex glove. Standard military protocol when you touch a stranger who’s dissolving from an alien disease,” said Lopez, blithely.
“You’re sure?” said Lucy.
“I didn’t go lick the guy’s eyeballs, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Lopez.
“So you think maybe the glove wasn’t an adequate barrier?” said Lucy.
“I wouldn’t know such high and mighty science things like that, Ma’am. I’ll leave that to the people who see fit to lock up serving soldiers in illegal jails,” said Lopez.
Harvey peered up from his workstation and chipped in. “This is a medical treatment facility, not any kind of jail, Major. We’ll investigate the glove contagion aspect, but I suspect poor removal technique may be the most likely explanation,” said Harvey.
“Is there anyone else you might have had contact with following the incident?” said Lucy.
“Last night some lady and her kid hugged me. And I arrested a guy this morning,” said Lopez.
Lucy pressed him for specific descriptions and locations, which she recorded, before proceeding to the last, awkward question.
“Any current sexual partners?” said Lucy, wincing at the intrusion.
“No,” said Lopez, curtly.
The lab door buzzed open and two technicians entered.
“Excellent work Lucy, I think that concludes our questions for now,” said Harvey, taking the clipboard and scanning through Lopez’s answers.
The technicians began donning protective suits from the far wall of the lab.
“Thank you for your answers, Major. I see that cooperation is proving something of a challenge for you, which, I must say, is disappointing, but I appreciate emotions are complex things. I would, however, suggest that it is in your interests to cooperate with us, so we can help you through the next steps,” said Harvey.
“The next steps?” said Lopez, cocking his head, warily.
“Please lie down on the bed, Major,” said Harvey.
“Why?” said Lopez, glaring at him.
“We’re going to start your treatment. It’s best if you’re lying down,” said Harvey.
Lopez took a seat on the gurney, then reluctantly swung his legs up and reclined, pulling his hospital gown down for a degree of respectability.
“On the sides, you’ll find some straps. Please apply the lower ones to your feet, and then secure one of your hands using the upper straps,” said Harvey.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” said Lopez, examining the restraints bolted to both sides of the gurney.
“Time is against us, Major, please don’t delay,” said Harvey.
“No. I’m not tying myself to a damned bed,” said Lopez, climbing back out and approaching the glass wall furiously.
“It’s for your own good, Major,” insisted Harvey.
Lucy caught Lopez’s eye and silently urged him to comply. She wanted desperately to reassure him; to tell him how Ruth had saved her life by tying her down as the disease advanced. She couldn’t bring herself to think about the sailor’s fate as she watched Lopez return to the bed and strap his legs into position. He glared at her and Harvey, then bound his left hand to the upper rail.
“Thank you, Major,” said Harvey, doffing an imaginary cap.
The door at the back of the cell opened, and the two lab technicians entered wheeling a trolley. One technician secured Lopez’s free hand in place, then circled the bed, tightening the other straps in turn. The second technician wiped Lopez’s forehead with a fabric pad, then affixed electrodes to either side of his brow.
“Wait, what’s this for?” said Lopez, trying to sit up and jolting against the restraints.
“You’re doing great, Major,” said Harvey.
The first technician inserted a rubber mouth guard between Lopez’s teeth. It wedged between his lips like an orange segment, out of which a short blue rubber handle extended like a stalk. The device fixed Lopez’s jaw in place and reduced his complaints to grunts of protestation.
The second technician plugged the trolley into the wall, bringing the portable monitor to life. She tapped the screen and scrolled through the options until a flat lining graph was displayed. The green horizontal line shifted as she adjusted the two dials either side of the screen. Next, she removed a small metal clamp from the trolley and placed it in the far corner of the room. On it, she secured a single, standalone lightbulb.
The first technician returned to the trolley and picked up two black objects which looked like the handsets from history’s first telephones. The technician made his way to Lopez, untangling the cables stretching from the machine, and placing them against his temples. Lopez twisted his head as best he could and stared at Lucy in disbelief. His stifled grunts conveyed the frantic cursing he was trying to utter through the rubber gag.
“Let’s begin,” said Harvey, nodding to the technician by the trolley, who depressed a button on the monitor.
The machine let out a warning bleep, then the graph spiked and moved up a level. Lopez’s finger twitched and he growled, shaking his head.
“This will go much smoother if you save your strength, Major,” said Harvey.
The technician turned the dial up a notch, and the green line moved up once again. Lopez shuddered as his fists clenched automatically, his eyes closing shut as he tried to master the rising pain.
“What’s the purpose of this? Sir, he’s clearly in distress,” said Lucy, appealing to the Director.
“Call me Harvey, please,” he replied, with a sincere smile.
“Harvey, what is this?” protested Lucy.
“Necessary,” said Harvey, rocking on his heels.
“How?” protested Lucy, as the technician ratcheted the dial up another level, causing Lopez to groan while his body strained against the tough fabric shackles.
“The Major is infected with some sort of D4 disease. We’ve had reports from other states that certain D4 creatures have a significantly enhanced electrical tolerance. We know how quickly D4 pathogens bring about physiological changes, so we’re investigating whether this disease has changed the upper electrical thresholds of human tolerance, or the patient’s ability to conduct it.
“Of course, I’ve already started Major Lopez on a course of antivirals, but while we wait to see what impact they might have against the pathogen, we have a duty to learn as
much as we can about this new condition, starting with the intelligence we’ve received from beyond the walls. What we discover in this lab will arm us with the knowledge we need to properly fight the D4 creatures attacking our city. We need a breakthrough, Lucy. Everyone knows it,” said Harvey.
The technician turned the dial up again and Lopez’s spine arched. The current shot through his body, drawing a protracted, muffled cry from his lips. He flopped back against the plasticized mattress as the shock ceased. Lopez stared at Lucy, imploringly.
“Harvey, this isn’t ethical, and you’ve just admitted it’s got nothing to do with curing him,” protested Lucy.
“Take off the blindfold, Lucy. You’re creating and reacting to meaning, not reality,” said Harvey.
The technician depressed the delivery button, sending a fresh wave of electrical charge across the Major’s temples. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his entire body snapped rigid.
“Stop it!” cried Lucy, slamming the glass.
The technician continued for several more seconds until the dose was complete, then Lopez’s body fell limp. A recovery timer counted down from ten seconds on the monitor.
“If you keep going, you’ll kill him,” begged Lucy, as Lopez’s head lolled in confusion.
“Lucy, the last thing I want to do is precipitate the premature demise of such a precious subject. We are merely teasing the boundaries to extend our knowledge. I assure you, we’re well within survivable limits,” said Harvey.
Lopez’s body snapped once again as yet more current coursed through his body.
“How much more do you expect him to take?” said Lucy, watching in horror as Lopez quivered against the restraints.
“We’ll stop when we reach that point, don’t you worry,” said Harvey.
The machine beeped again as the dose ended. The recovery timer began counting down from fifteen seconds.
“N- no more,” begged Lopez, who had managed to spit the mouth guard out.
One of the technicians swiftly picked it up and wiped it down with disinfectant.
“No more!” cried Lopez, again, wildly eyeballing the glass wall, as saliva dribbled across his cheek.
“We have to stop,” implored Lucy.
“I must say, Lucy, I’m disappointed. You voted for this,” said Harvey.
Lopez’s eyes widened in disbelief, piercing Lucy with guilt as the technician thrust the mouth guard back in place. With the black antennae against his temples, the next, higher voltage, gripped the Major’s frame.
“I voted for a cure, not some sick mission creep,” protested Lucy, as Lopez convulsed once again.
“You voted for progress, Lucy. The route is not always an easy one,” said Harvey.
The dose stopped and Lopez wilted, this time barely rousing.
“Come on Major, stay with us. Try to focus on the lightbulb in the corner. You can do it,” said Harvey, tapping the glass.
“I’m reporting this to the council,” said Lucy.
“I certainly hope so, I’m counting on you to write up our findings,” said Harvey.
“There won’t be much to find if he’s dead,” cried Lucy.
“That’s disputable,” said Harvey.
“We’re not even sure he was the source of the infection, it’s speculative – he said he wore a glove!” protested Lucy.
“From the footage and the testimonies, it’s highly probable that he was the source, but I’m always open to a healthy challenge. What’s beyond dispute, however, is that he’s infected with something we’ve not seen before,” said Harvey.
“But that’s pivotal. If he didn’t get infected at the scene, then maybe he’s not contagious? Which would mean holding him like this is neither necessary nor legal,” said Lucy.
“Like I said, Lucy, I’m always open to healthy challenge. Get the facts, and you’ll get my attention. I suggest you start tracing the people on the Major’s contact list,” said Harvey, as Lopez’s cries echoed through the chamber once again.
Lucy clutched the clipboard to her chest and hurried from the room, unable to look back at the Lopez’s contorting body. Tears filled her eyes as the lab door sealed his cries behind her. She rushed through the corridor and leaped into a closing elevator, with her heart pounding. She had to prove Lopez wasn’t the source, and she had to do it before Harvey killed him.
EIGHT
Find them
________________________________________________
Lucy made her way into the textiles warehouse, leaving her department chauffeur – a former DC taxi driver – to mind the car. Only a handful of people appeared to be working, sorting the mountains of scavenged clothes into vast, categorized piles. The majority of the staff were sat cross-legged on the concrete, arms folded, staging a defiant sit-in. Each wore a white armband.
A stretch of bright orange and red drew Lucy’s eye to the corner of the room, where a thick, knotted, tree trunk had broken through the concrete floor. Rust-colored shards of fallen bark formed a ring surrounding the base of the tree, which was wider than Lucy’s shoulders. Strips of bark hung from the rest of the trunk, peeling away to reveal more vivid wood tissue beneath. The tree stretched upwards like a crooked, knotted pylon, and punched through the aluminum roof above, letting in cool spring air and glimpses of daylight. The trunk was branchless, save for a wooden limb it had shed. The fallen wood had a row of spindly, dry aerial roots protruding outward from one side like a pile of wiry kindling. The concrete beneath it was darker than the rest, and glossy.
“That one,” said the site supervisor, pointing out a woman in the middle of the group of protesting workers. He beckoned her over. The woman nodded sarcastically, gave him the finger, and stayed put.
“You see what I’m dealing with?” said the supervisor, sighing.
“Are they striking because they’re being made to work Sundays?” said Lucy.
“No, they get a day in lieu. This is about rations – which is out of my hands,” said the supervisor, loudly, inviting several blunt remarks from the striking workers.
Lucy thanked the supervisor and approached the woman directly, weaving between the workers and taking care not to step on any fingers as she went.
“Ursula? Can we talk somewhere private?” said Lucy, nearing the woman.
“Busy,” replied the woman.
“It’s about your son,” said Lucy, tentatively.
The woman’s stony expression lifted for a fleeting second as concern washed across her face. She quickly masked it again and stood casually, leading Lucy to the side, and away from her peers, who did little to hide their eavesdropping.
“It’s actually about both of you. This is a medical thing. I’m from the Department of Health Intelligence. Is there a private room we could use?” said Lucy, quietly, flashing her badge.
Ursula led Lucy into a disabled toilet cubicle at the back of the warehouse, while the war of words between the supervisor and his striking employees continued in the background.
“What’s going on?” said Ursula, flicking the lock.
“This is a standard procedure, we’re just ruling some things out,” said Lucy.
“You needed a bathroom to tell me that?” said Ursula, unimpressed.
“I need to check your skin, so you’ll have to take your clothes off. We can do it in two stages – top half first, whatever you feel most comfortable with,” said Lucy, trying to hide her awkwardness.
Ursula took off her socks and shoes, her jumpsuit and jacket, and pulled off her bra and underpants with hesitation. She stepped to the side of the pile of clothes lifted both arms out, and stared at Lucy belligerently.
“Well?” said the woman.
Lucy blushed and quickly inspected the woman from top to toe, awkwardly bumping into the toilet as she circled the naked stranger.
“Can you kick up the sole of each foot?” said Lucy, standing behind Ursula, who obliged, tutting loudly.
Lucy gasped with excitement.
“Wh
at?” said Ursula, her left heel raised.
“You’re all clear. I need to see your kid next. You should come too,” said Lucy.
“You’re in an awful hurry,” said Ursula, taking her time to reclothe.
“It’s urgent,” said Lucy, snatching Ursula’s jacket off the ground and thrusting it into the woman’s hands. Her fleeting relief at the woman’s all-clear had been erased by the thought of Lopez’s writhing body. She had to keep moving fast.
“Whatever it is, if I don’t got it, my kid don’t got it,” said Ursula, shrugging.
“That’s not how it works,” said Lucy, exasperatedly.
“You would say that, you’re one of them,” said Ursula, nodding at Lucy’s government badge.
“I’m just trying to keep people safe, including your kid,” said Lucy, her anger rising, as Ursula tied her shoes at snail’s pace.
“Girl, I can tell you don’t got kids,” said Ursula, rolling her eyes as she stood and waltzed toward the door.
Lucy pinned the woman against the wall, her blood boiling over.
“When I was examined in San Francisco, they sterilized me. No warning, no asking, they just did it. You’re getting off lightly, you jumped up asshole. I’m trying to help your family. You can either keep being a jackass about it, or you can help me,” said Lucy, her face inches from the stranger’s.
Ursula’s mask fell away for a second time as she looked at Lucy with genuine fear, and nodded, her hands raised in surrender.
“Alright. Then move it,” said Lucy, shoving her out into the warehouse.
***
They crossed the forecourt of the elementary school and followed signs for the sports hall.
“He normally goes to the one by our house. Sunday school’s only for kids whose parents gotta work,” said Ursula, as they approached the maroon double doors.
They entered the sports hall, where a few hundred children were watching a movie. A supervising teacher accosted them in the doorway.
“Can I help you?” said the teacher, sternly.
“I need my kid. This lady gotta check he don’t got AIDS or whatever,” said Ursula.
Lucy cringed horrendously and uttered a gabbling, partially-coherent clarification as she tried to explain the situation without giving away any details of Lopez’s detainment. Ursula, meanwhile, marched to the front of the hall and interrupted the movie, getting her son to identify himself. He came with great reluctance, agitating to get back to the entertainment as Ursula dragged him away.
Convulsive Box Set Page 58
