by Robin Cook
Turning to look behind her, Kim saw a wall of flames expanding with explosive force. The blowtorch had ignited the drapes, and they were burning as if they’d been doused with gasoline.
The creatures voiced a collective wail at the developing inferno. Kim looked back at them and saw terror in their wide eyes. Edward was the first to run, followed instantly by the others. But they didn’t run out the front door. Instead they ran in a panic up the main stairs.
“No, no,” Kim shouted to the fleeing figures. But it was to no avail. Not only did they not understand her, they did not even hear. The roar of the wall of flames sucked sound into its fury like a black hole swallowed matter.
Kim lifted her good arm to protect herself from the searing heat. Getting to her feet she hobbled toward the front door. It was becoming difficult to breathe as the fire consumed the room’s oxygen.
An explosion behind her sent Kim again sprawling onto the floor. She cried out with pain from her injured arm. She guessed the blast had been the blowtorch container detonating. With renewed urgency to get out of the building, she struggled to her feet and staggered forward.
Kim lurched through the door and hobbled out into the gusty wind and driving rain. She limped all the way to the far edge of the graveled area in front of the castle, gritting her teeth against the pain in her arm and knee with every step. Turning around and shielding her face from the heat with her good arm, she looked back at the castle. The old structure was burning like tinder. Flames were already visible in the dormered windows of the attic.
A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the area. For Kim, the scene was like an image of hell. She shook her head in disgust and dismay. Truly the devil had returned to Salem!
EPILOGUE
* * *
Saturday,
November 5, 1994
Where do you want to go first?” Kinnard asked as he and Kim drove through the gate onto the Stewart compound.
“I’m not sure,” Kim said. She was in the passenger seat, supporting the cast on her left arm.
“You’ll have to decide pretty soon,” Kinnard said. “We’ll be coming to the fork as soon as we clear the trees.”
Kim knew Kinnard was right. She could already see the field through the leafless trees. She turned her head and looked at Kinnard. The pale, late fall sunshine slanting through the trees was flickering on his face and lighting up his dark eyes. He’d been extraordinarily supportive, and she was thankful he’d agreed to make this drive with her. It had been a month since the fateful night, and this was Kim’s first return.
“Well?” Kinnard questioned. He began to slow down.
“Let’s go to the castle,” Kim said. “Or at least what’s left of it.”
Kinnard made the appropriate turn. Ahead, the charred ruins loomed. All that was standing were the stone walls and chimneys.
Kinnard pulled up to the drawbridge that now led to a blackened, empty doorway. Kinnard turned off the ignition.
“It’s worse than I expected,” Kinnard said, surveying the scene through the windshield. He looked at Kim. He could sense she was nervous. “You know, you don’t have to go through this visit if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” Kim said. “I’ve got to face it sometime.”
She opened her door and got out. Kinnard got out his side. Together they strolled around the ruins. They did not try to go inside. Within the walls everything was ashes save for a few charred beams that had not completely burned.
“It’s hard to believe anyone got out alive as fast as it all burned,” Kim said.
“Two out of six is not a great record,” Kinnard said. “Besides, the two who survived aren’t out of the woods yet.”
“It’s a tragedy in a tragedy,” Kim said. “Like poor Elizabeth with her malformed, miscarried fetus.”
They reached a hillock where they had a view of the entire incinerated site. Kinnard shook his head in disgust. “What a fitting end to a horrid episode,” he said. “The authorities had a hard time believing it until the dentition of one of the victims matched the toothmarks on the bone of the dead vagrant. At least you must feel vindicated. They didn’t believe a word you said in the beginning.”
“I’m not sure they really believed it until both Edward and Gloria had another transformation in the burn unit of the hospital,” Kim said. “That was the clincher, not the teethmarks. The people who witnessed it attested that it had been brought on by sleep and that neither Edward nor Gloria had any recollection of it occurring. Those were the two key points that were critical for people to believe what I told them.”
“I believed you right away,” Kinnard said, turning to Kim.
“You did,” Kim said. “I have to give you credit for that and for a lot of other things.”
“Of course I already knew that they were taking their untested drug,” Kinnard said.
“I told that to the District Attorney right from the beginning,” Kim said. “It didn’t influence him that much.”
Kinnard looked back at the impressive ruins. “This old building must have burned awfully quickly,” he said.
“The fire spread so fast it was almost explosive,” Kim said.
Kinnard shook his head again, this time in gratitude and awe. “It’s a marvel that you got out yourself,” he said. “It must have been terrifying.”
“The fire was practically anticlimactic,” Kim said. “It was the other stuff that was so horrifying, and it was a hundred times worse than one could ever imagine. You can’t believe what it’s like to see people you know in such an animal state. But the one thing it did for me was underline that all drug taking, whether steroids for athletes or psychotropic drugs for character enhancement, is a Faustian contract.”
“Medicine has known that for years,” Kinnard said. “There’s always risk, even with antibiotics.”
“I hope people will remember it when they are tempted to take drugs for what they believe are personality flaws, like shyness,” Kim said. “Such drugs are coming; there’s no stopping the research that’s going to develop them. And if someone doubts they will be used for such purposes, all they have to do is look at the expanded use of some of the current antidepressants in such questionable ways since they’ve been on the market.”
“The problem is we’re developing a culture which thinks there is a pill for everything,” Kinnard said.
“That’s exactly the reason that there is bound to be another episode like the one I just lived through,” Kim said. “It’s inevitable with the potential demand for psychotropic drugs.”
“If there is another such episode, I’m sure the witch industry in Salem hopes that it will occur here,” Kinnard said with a laugh. “Your experience has been a boon for business.”
Kim picked up a stick and poked into the rubble of the castle. Metal objects had been distorted out of shape because of the intense heat.
“This house contained all the material legacy of twelve generations of Stewarts,” Kim said. “Everything is lost.”
“I’m sorry,” Kinnard said. “It must be very upsetting.”
“Not really,” Kim said. “Most of it was junk except for a few pieces of furniture. There wasn’t even one decent painting except for the portrait of Elizabeth, which survived. The only thing that I truly regret losing are the letters and papers I’d found about her. I’ve lost them all and only have copies of two that were made at Harvard. Now the copies are the only corroboration that exists concerning Elizabeth’s involvement in the Salem witchcraft upheaval, and that’s not going to be enough to convince most historians.”
They stood for a time gazing at the ashes. Finally Kinnard suggested they move on. Kim nodded. They walked back to the car and drove over to the lab.
Kim unlocked the door. They passed through the reception area and Kim opened the inner door. Kinnard was amazed. It was just empty space.
“Where is everything?” he asked. “I thought this was a lab.”
“It was,” Kim said.
“I told Stanton everything had to be out immediately. I told him if it weren’t, I’d donate it all to a charity.”
Kinnard made a motion of dribbling a basketball and shooting it. The sound of his heels echoed in the room. “You could always convert it to a gym,” he said.
“I think I’d prefer a studio,” Kim said.
“Are you serious?” Kinnard asked.
“I think I am,” Kim said.
Leaving the lab, they drove on to the cottage. Kinnard was relieved to see it hadn’t been stripped like the lab. “It would be a shame to destroy this,” he said. “You’ve made it into a delightful house.”
“It is cute,” Kim admitted.
They walked into the parlor. Kinnard walked around the room and examined everything carefully.
“Do you think you’d ever want to live here again?” Kinnard asked.
“I think so,” she said. “Someday. What about you? Do you think you could ever live in a place like this?”
“Sure,” Kinnard said. “After taking the rotation out here I’ve been offered a position with a group at Salem Hospital that I’m seriously considering. Living here would be ideal. The only trouble is, I think it might be a bit lonely.”
Kim looked up into Kinnard’s face. He raised his eyebrows provocatively.
“Is that a proposition?” Kim asked.
“It could be,” Kinnard said evasively.
Kim thought for a moment. “Maybe we should see how we feel about each other after a ski season.”
Kinnard chuckled. “I like your new sense of humor,” he said. “You can now joke about things that I know are important to you. You’ve really changed.”
“I hope so,” she said. “It was long overdue.” She gestured up at Elizabeth’s portrait. “I have my ancestor to thank for making me see the need and giving me the courage. It’s not easy breaking old patterns. I only hope I can maintain this new me, and I hope you can live with it.”
“I’m loving it so far,” he said. “I feel less like I’m walking on eggshells when we’re together. I mean, I don’t have to guess continually how you are feeling.”
“I’m amazed but thankful that something good has come out of such an awful episode,” she said. “The real irony for me is that I finally had the courage to tell my father what I think of him.”
“Why is that ironic?” he asked. “I’d say it’s perfectly in keeping with your new ability to communicate what’s on your mind.”
“The irony is not that I did it,” she said. “It’s because of the result. A week after the conversation that turned very nasty on his part he phoned me, and now we seem to be enjoying the beginnings of a meaningful relationship.”
“That’s wonderful,” Kinnard said. “Just like with us.”
“Yup,” Kim said. “Just like with us.”
She reached up and put her good arm around his neck and hugged him. He reciprocated with equal ardor.
Friday, May 19, 1995
Kim paused and looked up at the façade of the newly constructed brick building she was about to enter. Above the door set into the brick was a long white marble plaque on which was carved in low relief: OMNI PHARMACEUTICALS. She was not sure how she felt about the fact the company was still in business in light of all that had happened. Yet she understood that with all his money tied up in the venture, Stanton was not about to let it simply die.
Kim opened the door and entered. At a reception desk she left her name. After waiting for a few minutes a pleasant, conservatively dressed woman appeared, to escort her up to the door of one of the company’s labs.
“When you’ve finished your visit do you think you will be able to find your way out without difficulty?” the woman asked.
Kim assured her she could and thanked her. After the woman left, Kim turned to the lab door and entered.
From Stanton’s description, Kim knew what to expect. The door that she’d just passed through did not take her into the lab. It took her into an anteroom. The common wall with the lab itself was glass from desk height to the ceiling. In front of the glass were several chairs. On the wall below the glass were a communications unit and a brass-handled door that resembled an after-hours bank drop.
Beyond the glass was a modern, state-of-the-art biomedical laboratory that bore an uncanny resemblance to the lab in the stables building in the compound.
Following Stanton’s instructions, Kim sat in the chair and pressed the red “call” button on the communications console. Inside the lab she saw two figures stand up from behind a lab bench where they had been busy working. Seeing Kim, they started over.
Kim immediately felt a wave of sympathy for the pair. She never would have recognized them. It was Edward and Gloria. Both were tremendously disfigured from their burns. They were essentially hairless. Both were also facing more cosmetic surgery. They walked stiffly and pushed “keep open” IVs in front of them with hands that had lost fingers.
When they spoke their voices were hoarse whispers. They thanked Kim for coming and expressed their disappointment that they were unable to show her around the lab that had been specifically designed with their handicaps in mind.
After a pause in the conversation, Kim asked them how they were getting along healthwise.
“Pretty good considering what we have to deal with,” Edward said. “Our biggest problem is that we’re still experiencing ‘fits’ even though the Ultra has completely been cleared from our brains.”
“Are they still brought on by sleep?” Kim asked.
“Not by sleep,” Edward said. “They now come on spontaneously like an epileptic seizure, without any warning. The good part is that they only last for a half hour or less, even when untreated.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kim said. She struggled against a sadness that threatened to well up inside of her. She was facing people whose lives had been all but destroyed.
“We’re the sorry ones,” Edward said.
“It’s our own fault,” Gloria said. “We should have known better than to start taking the drug until all the toxicity studies were completed.”
“I don’t see that would have made any difference,” Edward said. “To this day, no animal studies have shown this human side effect. In fact, by our taking the drug when we did, we probably saved a large number of human volunteers from experiencing what we’ve suffered.”
“But there were other side effects,” Kim said.
“True,” Edward admitted. “I should have picked up on the short-term-memory loss as being significant. The drug was obviously showing its capability to block network-level nerve function.”
“Has your subsequent research led to any understanding of your condition?” Kim asked.
“By studying each other in the throes of an attack we’ve been able to document what we had originally proposed as the mechanism of action,” Gloria said. “Ultra builds up to a point where it blocks cerebral control of the limbic system and lower brain centers.”
“But why are you getting attacks now that the drug is gone?” Kim asked.
“That’s the question!” Edward said. “That’s what we are trying to learn. We believe it is through the same mechanism as ‘bad trip’ flashbacks which some people suffer after hallucinogenic drug use. We’re trying to investigate the problem so that we might be able to figure out a way to reverse it.”
“Dilantin worked for a short time to control the fits,” Gloria said. “But then we began to become tolerant, so now it no longer works. The fact that it influenced the process for a short term has us encouraged we might find another agent.”
“I’m surprised Omni is still in business,” Kim said to change the subject.
“We are too,” Edward said. “Surprised and pleased. Otherwise we wouldn’t have this lab. Stanton just has not given up, and his persistence has paid off. One of the other alkaloids from the new fungus has shown significant promise as a new antidepressant, so he’s been able to raise adequate capital.”
“I hope at least
Omni has abandoned Ultra,” Kim said.
“No, indeed!” Edward said. “That’s the other major thrust of our research: trying to determine what part of the Ultra molecule is responsible for the meso-limbic-cerebral blockage that we’ve labeled ‘the Mr. Hyde Effect.’”
“I see,” Kim said. She started to wish them luck but couldn’t get herself to do it. Not after all the trouble Ultra had already caused.
Kim was about to say goodbye and promise she’d be back to visit when she noticed Edward’s eyes glaze over. Then his entire face was transformed just as it had been on the fateful night when she’d awakened him. In an instant he was in an uncontrollable rage.
Without any warning or provocation he launched himself at Kim and collided with a thump against the thick glass shield.
Kim leaped back in fright. Gloria responded by swiftly opening Edward’s IV.
For a brief moment Edward clawed vainly at the glass. Then his face went slack and his eyes rolled up into his head. In slow motion he sagged like a balloon with its air slowly let out. Gloria skillfully guided him to the floor.
“I’m sorry about this,” Gloria said as she tenderly adjusted Edward’s head. “I hope Edward didn’t frighten you too much.”
“I’m fine,” Kim managed, but her heart was pounding in her chest and she was trembling. Warily she stepped close to the window and looked down at Edward lying on the floor. “Will he be all right?”
“Don’t worry,” Gloria said. “We’re rather used to this sort of thing. Now you can see why we have these IVs. We’ve been experimenting with various tranquilizers. I’m pleased with how quickly this one worked.”
“What would happen if both of you had an attack simultaneously?” Kim asked to try to focus her mind.
“We’ve thought about that,” Gloria said. “Unfortunately, we’ve not been able to come up with any fail-safe ideas. So far it hasn’t happened. I guess all we can do is the best we can.”
“I admire your fortitude,” Kim said.
