Convulsive Box Set

by Marcus Martin

  “Bathroom?” said Ursula, raising her eyebrows sharply when the teacher made the mistake of hesitating for a split second.

  Lucy examined the young boy quickly, trying to keep a casual air to minimize his embarrassment while Ursula chastised him for wriggling.

  “He’s clear, but if you spot any unusual rashes or blisters on him or you, report to the hospital immediately,” said Lucy, with a pang of guilt, as she removed her latex gloves.

  “Look Mom, a kitty cat been on the ceiling,” said the boy, with a giggle, pointing upwards.

  Lucy followed his gaze. Scuff marks stretched across the ceiling from the doorway to a missing foam tile in the corner, revealing the dark cavity above.

  “Out – now,” said Lucy, shoving Ursula and the boy out into the corridor. She sealed the door behind them and scanned the ceiling in both directions. The familiar pattern of scuff marks extended away towards the hall.

  “You should take your boy home,” said Lucy, staring at the creature’s imprints.

  “I wanna see the movie,” protested the boy.

  “Ursula, get him home, you hear me?” said Lucy, sternly.

  “How, girl? You gon’ give us a ride?” said Ursula, snapping her fingers once.

  “There’s no time – just don’t go back in the hall,” said Lucy, breaking away from the perplexed pair.

  “You just leavin’ us here? Hey!” called Ursula.

  Lucy hastened out to the car and jumped into the front passenger seat.

  “You OK?” said the driver, noting the sweat on her brow.

  “There’s a D4C in the school. We need an investigative team in there right away - call it in, and get them to evacuate the kids,” said Lucy, panting.

  “Aren’t you on that team?” said the driver, hesitating with the radio in-hand.

  “If people die because you second-guessed me, I’ll make it known. Now call it in,” said Lucy, sharply.

  The driver hastily relayed the message into the radio. Lucy fought the wave of guilt rising within her and tore her gaze away from the school.

  “What are you waiting for? Get us to the prison,” said Lucy, banging her fist against the car roof, and startling the driver into action.

  Ursula emerged from the school, dragging her reluctant kid behind her. She locked eyes with Lucy and glared at her as the car sped away. Lucy swallowed, and focused on the road ahead. Time was against them.

  ***

  Lucy lowered her arms and snatched her pass back.

  “You done?” she said, briskly.

  “Standard precautions,” said the warden, smiling unpleasantly as he stood up.

  The grimy security door buzzed open and Lucy hastened through to the other side, where another guard greeted her. A rancid stench struck Lucy’s nose, forcing her to cover it with her sleeve. The man nodded in sympathy.

  “We put an urgent request in with the Sanitation Department four days ago, but they still won’t send anyone,” said the guard, escorting her through the gloomy corridors.

  The sound of inmates shouting wafted down the hallway, followed closely by an officer’s barks.

  “Just in here, ma’am,” said the guard, ushering Lucy away from the ruckus and into the prison’s medical unit.

  A thin blue curtain screened off half of the room, behind which Lucy could just make out two beds. The curtain billowed open and a stressed-looking nurse emerged, clutching a full sick bowl.

  “Give me one minute,” said the nurse, pacing from the room.

  Lucy glimpsed into the screened area as the curtain fell back; two prisoners sat in parallel beds, holding sick bowls to their chests. Both were dangerously thin. Each was cuffed to their bed by the ankle.

  The nurse returned and plucked off his latex gloves, extending a courteous hand to Lucy, who shook it. The main door swung open and a prisoner entered, shackled at the ankles, and held at one arm by a guard. The guard steered the prisoner over to a seat and set him down, roughly, then removed the restraints.

  “You got five minutes, then he’s gotta be back in his cell,” said the guard, to Lucy.

  “Oooh, I ain’t had a nice lady nurse for a long time,” said the prisoner, eyeing up Lucy with a dirty laugh.

  “Shut your mouth,” said the guard, striking his baton against a metal cabinet in the examination room.

  “I need you to take off your clothes,” said Lucy, as neutrally as she could manage.

  The prisoner laughed more and hummed a striptease tune to himself as he tugged his top up, revealing a uniquely hairy midriff.

  “Can you do this faster? I don’t have a lot of time,” said Lucy, as he wiggled his hips to the tune.

  “Woo, lady wanna get right to it, that’s my kinda gal! You got it darlin’, here comes the good stuff,” said the prisoner, dropping his pants and briefs in one.

  “I really wouldn’t be bragging about that, Denzel,” said the nurse.

  Lucy inspected him, parting the dense hairs covering his torso and checking the skin beneath. The prisoner continued making lurid remarks as she worked, enjoying his own humor immensely, while the other prisoners continued to vomit behind the curtain.

  “If he develops rashes or lesions he needs to be quarantined and taken to the hospital immediately,” said Lucy, tearing off her gloves.

  “Is he likely to?” said the nurse, concerned.

  “Just a precaution,” said Lucy.

  “Denzel, sit your ass back down and get changed. How are you still drunk?” said the guard, blocking Denzel’s sluggish escape attempt.

  As Lucy pulled the door open, a loud siren pierced the air, making her flinch. Amidst the ringing Lucy could hear a cacophony of shouting.

  “Shit,” cursed the guard, peering out beside her. “Denzel – clothes, now.”

  Lucy leaned back as three wardens raced down the corridor towards the commotion.

  “You’d best leave, Ma’am,” said the guard.

  Lucy didn’t need telling twice. Covering her nose, she hastened through the corridor back to security, and out into the forecourt, where she gasped for air.

  “Where next?” said the driver.

  “The lab,” breathed Lucy, staring back at the dismal concrete facility.

  A terrifying sensation spread across her as she reflected on the recent diagnoses. For the first time, she felt hopeful. She had clear proof Lopez wasn’t infectious, meaning she could get the experiments stopped. She had to report her findings to Harvey immediately. She drummed her fingers on the window ledge as they sped towards the hospital. It made perfect sense – there was no way he could be contagious; the pair of them had been infected at the same time, and she hadn’t infected anyone. Right?

  ***

  Lucy stared at the camera, while the ring of yellow LEDs lit her anxious face. The lights turned green and the lab door clicked open. She rushed inside but Harvey was nowhere to be seen. There was motion in Lopez’s cell – a technician, attending to a trolley.

  Lucy approached the glass with dread. The Major lay still on the hospital bed, with his arms hanging over each side and his palms upturned. Three round band aids were stuck to his forearm, hiding fresh needle pricks beneath. The skin around his wrists was red raw from struggling against the restraints.

  A trail of clear liquid led away from the bed to two discarded bungee ropes and a bloodied towel on the floor. In the center of the cell was a large plastic tub filled with water, on top of which floated a thick layer of ice cubes several inches deep.

  The technician finished shuffling a stack of placards into order, then placed them onto the trolley, alongside a number of pipettes and vials. She gathered up the ropes and towel, wheeled the equipment out, and sealed the cell behind her.

  “Is he-” said Lucy, as the technician entered the main space.

  “No. Not yet, anyway. Can you get the door?” said the young woman, wheeling the trolley to the exit.

  Lucy obliged, looking earnestly to the impassive lady for reassurance.


  “You’re a babe,” said the girl, passing through.

  She must’ve been twenty one at most. The door closed behind her with a click.

  Lucy rushed behind Lopez’s cell but her security pass was useless – the chamber was sealed with a conventional lock. She hurried back to the front and banged on the glass. His head twitched ever so slightly, then fell to the side. Lucy banged on the glass harder and called his name until Lopez looked up, disoriented.

  He looked awful. His hair hung across his forehead in a sweaty, tangled mess. He peered at the glass, squinting until Lucy came into focus. When he recognized it was her, his shoulders dropped.

  “Lopez, look at me – I’m gonna get you out, OK?” said Lucy.

  He stared at her with exhaustion and hurt.

  “Major, can you hear me?” said Lucy, waving to him through the glass.

  Shakily, he swung his feet over the side, wincing as he swiveled. He placed each foot on the floor, and shuffled his hips to the tip of the bed. With his palms braced against the damp mattress he pushed up, letting out an involuntary gasp as if plagued by arthritis.

  He fell immediately, landing spread eagle on the hard lab floor, splitting his lip. Lucy gasped and pressed her hands against the glass. With a grunt, Lopez dragged himself onto all fours. Placing a hand on the ice tub, he rose unsteadily to his feet. Shuffling in increments, he edged his way across the cell towards Lucy and looked her in the eye. Dark rings had formed around his hazel irises, while his tawny brown skin had lightened as if he’d been drained of blood.

  “What did they do to you?” said Lucy, aghast.

  “They? You mean you,” said Lopez. His clear, authoritative diction was gone. His words were slurred, and sounded difficult to produce, like he’d been anesthetized. Lucy wished that had been the true cause.

  “I can prove you’re not contagious. I’m going to take it to the Medical Council – they’ll have to release you, it’s the only grounds they’ve got for holding you,” said Lucy, breathlessly.

  “It’s too late. They’ll never go back from this,” said Lopez, delivering a single, slow shake of his head, and wincing in pain.

  “They’ll vote to free you, as soon as they know the truth,” said Lucy.

  “He’ll break me first,” said Lopez, his mouth sagging.

  “He can’t – he won’t. You’re the strongest person I’ve met since-,” began Lucy, trailing off as Dan’s name choked in her throat.

  “This is my country. Why are they doing this to me?” said Lopez, looking imploringly into Lucy’s eyes. The damp gown stuck to his emaciated body, revealing his ribcage.

  “You have to keep going, Major – I need some time to get the votes, but I will get you out,” she insisted, trying not cry as blood trickled from his lip.

  “Pills,” said Lopez.

  “What?” said Lucy.

  “Find my pills. They can hide the symptoms,” said Lopez, swaying, and struggling over each word.

  “They were already starting to fail, Major, that’s why you’re here. I can’t give you more. They’re mitotic inhibitors – higher doses could kill you,” said Lucy, willing him to believe her.

  “I need them,” groaned Lopez, with a whimper.

  “Even if I wanted to, your stash is in a barracks, it’s crawling with troops,” said Lucy, imploringly.

  Lopez hung his head in disbelief. His shoulders shook.

  “Listen to me, there’s another way,” urged Lucy.

  The lab door buzzed open and the technician returned carrying a tray of hot soup and bread. Lucy kept her eyes fixed ahead, not daring to reveal she was holding back tears. Lopez shuffled agonizingly back towards his bed.

  “Did he say anything interesting?” said the technician, as she passed by.

  “He’s struggling with speech – his pronunciation’s gone,” said Lucy, trying to control the quiver in her voice.

  The technician disappeared behind the cells and slid the meal tray into Lopez’s cubicle, via the ‘cat flap’ on his back wall. Lucy hastily dried her eyes as the woman returned.

  “He won’t be able to reach that,” said Lucy, pointing to the meal on the floor.

  “Let’s see,” shrugged the technician, as Lopez shuffled towards it.

  The lab door buzzed open again and Harvey strolled in, greeting Lucy with a warm smile and open hands, his cheeks as rosy as ever.

  “Ah, there you are. Apologies if my tone was unkind earlier, Lucy, sometimes I mishandle the stress of this role. I was wondering how you got on with your enquiries this afternoon? We had an extremely productive session in the lab. The Major was quite remarkable in his endurance, although we’re not quite ready to rewrite the textbooks. No matter, we shall press on. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and nor was our knowledge of a genetically compromised lymphatic system,” said Harvey, with a wink.

  “I traced the contacts from the Major’s health history. All three are clean,” said Lucy.

  “Now that is good news,” said Harvey.

  “It proves he’s not contagious – so we can release him,” said Lucy, eagerly.

  “Your findings suggest our initial hypothesis was wrong. It follows that we must explore alternatives,” said Harvey, with a smile.

  “But the people I met prove the Major’s not spreading the infection,” said Lucy, desperately.

  “Releasing him now would be reckless, Lucy. Regardless of his infectious status, his D4 disease makes him an essential subject of further study,” said Harvey.

  Lucy stared from Harvey to Lopez hopelessly and wracked her brains for a way to get him out. With deep unease, she seized on the only avenue that might speed his recovery.

  “We should try starvation. My previous team found it stimulated D4 regeneration,” said Lucy, clasping her hands behind her back.

  She glanced into the cell, where Lopez was standing before the tray on the floor, staring at the soup hungrily.

  “An intriguing idea,” said Harvey, following her gaze.

  “Compare his skin to what we saw in that video. He’s a long way off. If we want fast results, we should accelerate his condition. Sustained environmental stress, like starvation, is worth exploring,” said Lucy.

  “Great minds think alike – I shall integrate your proposal into the next phase of the study,” said Harvey.

  “The next phase? Surely we should only test one variable at a time?” said Lucy, anxiously.

  “It’s like you said – we need fast results. Today, we’re seeing what sticks,” said Harvey, signaling the technician to remove the food tray from Lopez’s cell.

  With one hand pressed against the rear wall, Lopez bent his knees and extended a shaky arm towards the tray, only for it to be snatched away through the hatch. He stared at the empty floor space in disbelief for a moment, then turned his frail head towards the glass façade. He regarded Lucy and Harvey with mingled hurt and confusion, and swore at them, then made his way shakily back towards the bed.

  “You’ll want a pair of these,” said Harvey, fetching two pairs of ear mufflers from a cabinet.

  He gave the technician the thumbs up, and the woman hit a switch from the control panel. A burst of white noise filled the cell. Lopez flinched, covering his ears, and stumbling into the side of the bed. He fell to the ground and pressed his hands against his head until the burst stopped. Harvey lifted his ear defenders and grinned at Lucy.

  “Sleep deprivation always yields interesting results,” said Harvey.

  “But earlier – with the darkness – you said-” protested Lucy.

  “I said some words to help the patient acclimatize to their new surroundings. Time to move forwards,” said Harvey, with a wink, sliding his mufflers back into place.

  Lopez had pulled his hands from his ears and was staring at them in confusion, like each was holding an invisible bowl. His body jerked sharply as a second blast of white noise filled the cell. He slammed his palms against his head, and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. Lucy watched in horror as
he cowered against the trolley, quivering. She thrust her ear defenders into Harvey’s chest and ran from the room.

  ***

  Lucy burst into Adrian’s office, interrupting his private meeting with the council’s Agriculture rep. The rep hastily closed the file they were discussing.

  “You have to release him,” said Lucy, her eyes darting around the room wildly.

  “If you want to speak to me, make an appointment,” said Adrian.

  “They’re killing him,” she said, with a crack in her voice.

  Adrian exhaled with exasperation and slid the file into a drawer.

  “Let’s pick this up tomorrow, you have my full support,” he said, shaking hands with the rep, who swiftly left the room, glaring at Lucy as he went.

  “I think we need to talk about acceptable conduct,” said Adrian, sharply.

  “That’s why I’m here – they’re killing him,” repeated Lucy, incredulously.

  “Who?”

  “The Major. Harvey said he’s working on a cure but it’s a lie, he’s conducting illegal experiments to stress test the human body. He’s going to push him over the brink,” said Lucy.

  “What did you think would happen? You voted for research,” said Harvey.

  “Into a cure,” said Lucy, appalled.

  “You thought it would be painless process? There’s a reason we used to test drugs on animals first,” said Adrian.

  “These tests have nothing to do with developing treatments, it’s just torture,” said Lucy breathlessly.

  “I tabled a dignified and painless alternative and you publicly opposed me,” said Adrian, angrily.

  “There’s new evidence showing the Major’s not contagious – you have to take it to the council, put an end to this atrocity,” said Lucy.

  Adrian pulled the desk drawer open and slammed the file on top.

  “The council has bigger problems to worry about than Harvey’s side projects. Our food reserves are lower than we thought. The latest estimate gives us less than three months until total starvation,” said Adrian.