The Hydra Effect

by G Johanson

  “What a dramatic night! Have you heard?” Delaney said excitedly. She knew Inès had just come in and wouldn’t know a thing and she was pleased she would be the first to inform her of the gossip.

  Inès was pleased to see she was back and shook her head and Delaney dragged her into the store room where she could talk freely. “Mr Simon died in the early hours of the morning. No shock there, that was coming, right? Bloody old Georges insists on sitting with him while he dies and when Isabel tried to stop him he brutalised her, like proper smashed her face in. The police are coming and everything.”

  “So he’s getting arrested?”

  Delaney nodded and after spluttering awhile she said, “He’s in a room by himself for now. She’s had to go to hospital. They’re a bad lot, that family.”

  Inès knew how much Delaney disliked Lucien, which was unfortunate as she would have been her preferred confidante to discuss her feelings about the man. “Wow. Are you better today?”

  “So-so. You?”

  “Fine,” Inès said. Her evening with Lucien had been perfect, even if she felt guilty later. Not for what they did; that was special and nobody could take that away from her. She felt guilty about lying to her mother about where she had been. The night had taken a dark turn when the creature returned for the first time with a knife stuck in its eye which Durand removed. The girth that it had gained had since reduced and the creature hid under the table and was still there when she headed to work. The Quentins had been summoned (Inès had been made to fetch them at two in the morning) and the consensus was that Georges Steil was behind this and that she had to eliminate him so that the creature could return to the nursing home. It was still too weak to target healthy prey and needed this food resource a little while longer before it evolved further. Matthieu was a skilled calligrapher and he had painted Georges’ name on a bullet that was in the pistol she had been given to finish the job in the aim of their cause. She had intended to conveniently forget to bring the pistol with her today, an excuse that would have only worked with them once. Lucien had to see him first and then she would do her duty. Unfortunately Durand chased after her when she left for work and quizzed her and asked her where the gun was and she had been unable to bluff him.

  Inès took her bag with her into the toilets and attempted to strap the pistol to a garter as suggested. The garter, as provided by Jeanne, was a frilly, lightweight design, and the weight of the pistol threatened to pull the garter down from her upper thigh. This was never part of the plan and she found herself throwing up in the bowl. Aurore was outside the cubicle and she assumed that Inès was coming down with something too and waited for her and walked with her onto the ward.

  The matron called the staff together for a meeting midmorning and notified her that they were to receive some more patients that afternoon. The hospitals were overcrowded due to a fresh influx of cases and they were to take a further 40 patients to help them out, all civilians. The matron asked for volunteers to work extra hours and Inès immediately raised her hand followed by Aurore. The intermediate wards were merged together and several of the patients in the recovery ward were discharged. The new patients arrived in small groups and were given two wards, male and female. The youngest patient was a three year old girl who cried for her mother who was not allowed to see her. This was the ugly side of salvation.

  Inès had hoped that Georges’ arrest would spare her from having to perform her difficult task. While the group expected a lot from her, even they could not expect her to get into a police station or prison and execute him. She found she was out of luck and made her disappointment evident when Delaney shared the gossip with her. The police were not prepared to arrest a potentially infectious patient and the matter was delayed pending his recovery and Isabel’s statement. This meant she had no choice but at least she could give Lucien the goodbye he craved. She was working all night and Georges was in a side room by himself. She ventured out to see Lucien when her shift normally ended and he invited her round to his room again.

  “Another time. We’re inundated with patients. I’m working all night and your uncle is in a side room. Be here at eleven and I’ll get you in,” she said breathlessly.

  “That’s what I want, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “This is the least of my worries. You should be able to climb over the wall and if you keep your head down you can get to the side door where I’ll let you in. Don’t be early.”

  “Thank you, Inès.” His tender smile and earnest gratitude almost made her forget which side she was on.

  Matthieu Quentin had no such quandaries. Once it had been very different and in Georges’ version of the events of 1899 Albert Harper had seemed like the villain of the piece and Georges Steil was the saviour of the human race. That was long ago and he had experienced his treachery firsthand since then and could relate more closely with Albert’s position now. For all he knew the deed was done, Georges Steil’s brains splatted across the sterilized ward, likely still causing mischief, tripping up the nurses. Matthieu revelled in the reverie, envisioning the scene in acute detail, hoping that he had a moment to reflect before she pulled the trigger, to remember the transgressions he committed through the years.

  Jeanne knew that her husband was miles away yet continued to prattle away. Like most of her stories about her youth, she included a reference to her former svelte figure. With no photographs to back this up Matthieu had to trust his wife was telling the truth, even if her current frame suggested otherwise. Her top-heavy build was not unattractive but she was no Elodie Eber. He had foolishly introduced his first wife to Georges Steil, virtually placing the bait in his mouth, though back then he had no clue as to what a predator he was. He had called Matthieu the son he never had and Matthieu had taken his words to heart and trusted him implicitly. His own father had disowned him, dismissing his son as airy-fairy, criticising his esoteric interests and condemning him as a heretic, so Georges’ acceptance had meant a great deal to him. He had approached Georges humbly, requesting to be his official biographer, and he had written a first draft of a book of memoirs, Georges providing him with enough material for five books. Matthieu didn’t expect to make much money from the project and wrote as a labour of love.

  Then the snake bit his wife who enjoyed the poison. For all of her shortcomings at least Jeanne understood loyalty and for that reason alone she deserved to make it to the promised land. If Inès did as he said then an open casket would not be an option for Steil, denying him the attention he would crave even at the end. For the first time in years he was inspired to write again, to finish off the manuscript he had cast into the fire, Matthieu locking himself in the study to pen the final chapter in the life of Georges Steil. There had been seemingly innumerable false endings prior to this and he had to trust that Durand’s faith in the girl was justified.

  The youngest patient at the hospital died shortly after seven o’clock and Aurore finally stopped smiling. Inès visited her body in the morgue and was pleased to see that she did not share the same expression as those that the creature had taken. Perhaps this death had nothing to do with her. The Spanish Influenza pandemic existed before they had tried any spells. The sudden increase in reported cases in the town could have been purely coincidental. The creature appeared to have killed six men who would probably have died anyway. At that rate it would take him forever to meet Albert’s goal of 1000 million, but she didn’t understand everything anyway and ceded to Durand’s vision.

  She was still glum when she opened the door for Lucien and she put a finger to her lips signalling for him to be quiet. He followed her to Georges’ room which was empty.

  “Where is he?” Lucien whispered, growing concerned. “Nothing’s happened, has it?”

  “He should be here. Wait here and I’ll find him.”

  While Inès conducted an extensive search, Georges returned to his room and was startled by the sight of his nephew.

  “So the old man rises from his pit at
last!” Lucien said, mocking his uncle before he hugged him.

  “He does. I heard a reprobate was outside bothering the staff. You should be at home. You’ve talked about wanting to be there long enough,” Georges said, admonishing him lightly.

  “I can be after tonight. Let’s have a drink. Etienne’s buying,” Lucien said, producing a bottle from inside his jacket. Georges asked for Lucien to pour his into his cup so that they did not drink from the same bottle. It was bad enough he had risked infection by coming here and Georges wanted to minimise the risk as much as was humanly possible. Georges used a trick to pop the bottle and they both chatted away merrily. As they drank Lucien was apologetic as he tried to explain the situation. “We do want you home, all of us. It’s just that it would probably be best if you could wait say an extra month so that you’re completely cured and won’t pass it on. Gran’s very frail now.”

  “She will be. She’s doing very well. I won’t live that long. I never thought I’d live this long, mind. There were times you know over this last year that...” Georges trailed off and Lucien began to speak when Georges continued, adding emotionally, “You boys carried me those last few months.”

  Lucien shook his head. “That’s not how I remember it, Uncle Georges. It’s over now, until the next one. You’ve not been getting up to any scrapes in here?”

  “They’re all a bit too ill for that. How’d you get in here?”

  “Inès. She’s a lovely girl.”

  “She’s trouble, Lucien. Stay away from her.”

  “She’ll be to your tastes then. I don’t see why you’d say that.”

  “You know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t say that without good reason. You need to get back to Dijon and start this new phase of your life. You can’t return to what you were because you’re not the same person. There’s a patient in here, a friend of mine, Nann Royer, who everyone calls a loony, but to go through that experience and not lose your mind seems even more insane. I’ve been a soldier before but that, what rational men can put each other through...it’s been an education in inhumanity. I think you’d best leave the bottle with me. I don’t mean to be gloomy, Lucien. I’m just a little bit disappointed in human nature. An old friend of mine once warned me about this century and, it disturbs me to say it, but I’m starting to understand some of what he meant. Anyway, be off with you.”

  “Won’t you get into trouble if I leave this?”

  “I’m already in trouble. Why do you think I’m in seclusion? Apologise to Etienne for me, for not seeing you both through it.”

  “If you insist. Before you go performing around the world again, come back home for a few days first.”

  Georges nodded assent and Lucien left. Georges was pleased that he was not there when Inès returned. She was surprised to see he was present with no sign of Lucien and she asked, “Where have you been?”

  “A man can’t solve riddles, or should that be crimes, from his sick bed. I’m naturally suspicious of nurses based on a prior incident. A dopey matron thought she could imprison an escapologist by shackling my feet to the bed. Even doped up to the eyeballs that was no challenge. Nor was seeing through your story.”

  “You’re delirious, Georges.”

  Georges stood up to face her and he smiled as he said, “You would like to portray me so, and it’s not a stretch to paint me as a delusional fantasist. Your interest in my nephew triggered my suspicions. Using him to get close to me is very underhanded and makes me lose my sense of humour.”

  “Lucien seems a good man, most unlike his uncle, if I’m going to be perfectly frank. You should get back into bed,” Inès said, beginning to lose her cool. If he kept acting like this then doing her duty wasn’t going to be as hard as she thought.

  “That creature arrived almost the same time as you did. Every person who has had any contact with that ward or the dead is getting sicker – that’s where I was by the way, I chose to be sick in the toilet rather in the pot – we’re all declining, while you’re blooming. I talked to some of the patients who came in and they all live or work in the vicinity of Legrand’s funeral parlour.”

  Inès shook her head, Georges’ ‘evidence’ circumstantial at best, and she said derisively, “You’ve spent too much time with Royer.”

  “And who or what have you spent too much time with, Inès? I want to help you, though it’s getting harder for me and at some point that desire to help will be replaced with a sole desire to stop you, and I’m not always a gentleman in these affairs,” Georges said regretfully, hoping she would not force his hand.

  “I already know that.” With trembling hands she fumbled under her skirt and produced the pistol which she held with both hands and pointed at his chest. “I’m sorry that it had to come to this.”

  “You’re well prepared. Is that standard nurse issue? Lower the gun, Inès, I’m not liable to overpower you,” Georges said casually.

  “You can’t talk your way out of this,” she said emotionally.

  “No? At least I had a good run. You can at least tell me why I have to die. Fill in the blanks for me which I couldn’t work out.”

  “You’re playing for time.”

  “Nobody will come in to see me. They think I beat up a defenceless nurse; nobody’s rushing to my aid to see that I’m clean and watered. A true villain would relish the moment of their triumph and reveal all.”

  “I’m not the villain here.”

  “I am? The outsider looking in at this picture might dispute that. Come on, as a condemned man’s last request, tell me why I deserve the bullet that’s about to penetrate skin and tissue and shatter bone.”

  Inès sighed and she said, “Durand was right about you. You’re so slippery. You won’t have heard of my brother, Jean. He perished at Ypres three years ago...”

  “You have my condolences.”

  “I don’t want your condolences!” Inès snapped. “You knew this was coming. You were forewarned; you were even shown the visions of the horrors to come. Albert Clarke’s vision...”

  “Albert Harper. The 1899 purge, right?”

  “Mankind’s salvation, which you opposed and destroyed. Without you this war would never have happened. Jean would still be alive.”

  “1000 million would have died. The odds that you and Jean would have both lived are slim.”

  “Better to die in the swift cleansing than the cruel way he was taken. Look to the other inmates...and that’s what you all are, not patients, because you’re so damaged it’s not safe to let you leave. Jean underwent purgatory and didn’t make it through to the other side. Paradise is forever gone because of you.”

  “The manifesto is bullshit. It was never about auguring in a golden age of peace and prosperity. Albert’s agenda was purely about bringing back one woman, a scheme which resulted in rotting zombies infesting the capital and came to a grisly end in the Catacombs. Glorify him and his agenda by all means, if you are happy to follow a falsehood,” Georges said, realising he was dealing with a zealot of a sect he believed, and wished, had long since perished. “Okay, fine, I see why, from your perspective, I deserve to die. What about these other patients, and the monster? What’s that all about? Do you know or are you just one of the foot soldiers?”

  “The earth must be cleansed. It’s the only way to ensure we never have another war like that ever again.”

  “Nothing will ever stop wars. Reducing the population won’t fix that. I’ll rephrase the question. What form is this purge taking? Albert sought to use the energy of man against us. As far as I can tell this monster likes a midnight snack and then the bodies seem to become further contaminated and spread a variant of Influenza like wildfire. Am I close?”

  Inès shrugged. “I don’t claim to have all of the answers.”

  “But you’re still going to shoot me. By your own admission you’re pretty clueless about your operation. You’re just following orders. Just like a soldier. Just like your brother...”

  Georges pushed her too far
. If he had begged for his life she might have struggled to pull the trigger, or if he had shown her some respect or fear. Instead he was condescending and arrogant and pushed the wrong button by mentioning her brother in a negative context. She fired in anger and blood sprayed from his mouth as he held his abdomen, the bullet striking his chest. He collapsed to the floor and Inès ran out of the room and out of the building. It was very late and she stumbled home after midnight. The creature was still there, sitting up with Durand, its skin now taut over its body as it attenuated further, now thinner than when they had first summoned it.

  “Is it done?” Durand asked.

  Inès nodded.

  “Are you sure?” Durand asked, questioning her resolve. With Georges’ death he had assumed the creature would return to its ‘larder’ with the protector of the home now dead.

  “His eyes stayed open,” Inès lied. She had not stayed long enough to examine him for signs of life and she told this lie because she knew otherwise he would make out that she should have checked for certain he was dead, something which she did not need to do because there was no way that he would survive her shot.

  “You may have to return tomorrow to repeat the incantation. He doesn’t seem to realise the coast is clear, which I find remarkable given his intelligence. You’re absolutely sure?”

  “Yes. I can’t go back there, please don’t make me go back,” she begged.

  “You have no choice. He needs food.”

  “Please,” Inès said. She sobbed and Durand positioned her limp body on the floor so that she knelt one side of him and the creature sat on the other, with Durand stroking them both.

  “They can’t prove it was you. You’ll be the last person they’d suspect, sweet, innocent Inès. Go back to work and act shocked, weep as you are now. You only need work for the morning and you can say you’re too upset and you want to leave. Lead him back. Now go to bed. You need to be there in the morning.”