The Alpha Strain

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The Alpha Strain Page 8

by Urcelia Teixeira


  “Another deserted building,” Ezra remarked. “There,” pointing to the freight elevator obscured by a delivery truck.

  Alex pounded the button with her fist. The door remained closed. Her eyes scoured their surroundings and found a steel bar sticking out from underneath a wood pallet.

  “Help me,” she instructed Ezra who promptly wedged the rod between the elevator doors. Alex’s fingers strained against the tight crevice in an attempt to pull the doors apart. Their efforts paid off and the doors sprung open; revealing a gaping shaft dropping two floors down. Alex looked up into the shaft. The elevator was stationary one floor above their heads. Wasting no time, she leaped onto the suspended cable and made her way up to the elevator floor above her head. Ezra followed as soon as she had navigated her way into the narrow space between the lift and the wall. It took all of three knee extensions before she was on top of the elevator’s roof. With Ezra now next to her they unlatched the roof panel and dropped down into the lift. The doors parted with ease under their combined pulling effort and they soon found themselves in the foyer of the art museum.

  “What are we looking for?” Ezra asked as he took in the enormous open space.

  “Not sure, but I would imagine it to be something relating to the professor’s field of study. He was a paleoanthropologist so let’s see if we can find an exhibition correlating to this.”

  “A paleo what?” Ezra said puzzled, having no idea what that meant.

  “Anything to do with ancient human history. Human skulls, fossils et cetera. Essentially anything you think might belong in his office.”

  The museum displayed various paintings and African statues, clay art, beading and several African masks but nothing remotely related to human bones.

  “Nothing here,” Ezra yelled back from the opposite side of the considerably sized hall.

  “Nothing here either,” Alex called back spotting the circular ramp along the outer walls. “Let’s go up to the next floor.”

  The sloping surface spiraled up to the next level and Alex and Ezra found themselves side by side in another exhibition hall. A multitude of glass boxes containing animal bones, human bones and rock art decorated the floors and walls.

  “Something like this maybe?” Ezra asked as he pointed to a display cupboard with three drawers.

  Alex joined his side as he stood over an opened drawer exhibiting three apelike skulls on a bed of beach sand. They were replicas of Homosapien skull fossils, each with a separate scientific name tag and explanation.

  “Yup, that will do,” Alex answered lifting the first one up to inspect it more closely. She read the label tag out loud.

  Homo erectus

  About 1.75 million years ago

  This hominid has a number of similarities to early Homo erectus including an exceptionally small cranium, rounded occiput and face similar to KNM-ER 1814. The presence of this specimen in Dmanisi, Georgia suggests that the first humans to disperse from Africa had smaller brain cases than Homo erectus.

  “Remarkable. What does the second one say?” Alex asked Ezra as she put the first skull back in its place.

  “Nothing like that. If I’m honest I can’t quite make ass or elbows of it. But I suppose that’s science for you.”

  Ezra placed the skull replica back in its place and proceeded to pick up the next one in the tray.

  Alex leaned in to read the tag on the second skull.

  Homo habitis

  About 2.5 million years ago

  The windows of his soul delivers the call where Homo’s ancestors introduced Dewey to Decimal. Between jackets and spines lie the hidden root that reveals to all the submerged foot.

  She paused and read it again. “You’re right. It doesn’t sound like the other one.” Alex read it again, this time slower. Her pulse quickened and her mouth broke into a wide grin. “It’s a clue, Ezra! It’s a clue!”

  “It looks like a crushed skull that had been patched together with putty. Are you sure?” Ezra queried scratching the back of his neck.

  “Absolutely, we just need to figure it out. ‘The windows of his soul delivers the call’. That’s obviously referring to his eyes, or in this case the cavities.”

  Alex stuck her fingers into the empty holes where the eyes once were.

  “And? Can you find something?” Ezra nudged.

  Alex pulled her flashlight from the pouch in her vest and shone it into the skull. Straining her eyes to get a visual she gasped with excitement as she spotted the sequence of numbers.

  “It’s numbers; 927.381”

  “That’s it? Just six numbers. It’s too short for a mobile number as the clue suggests.” Ezra threw out a theory.

  Alex read the clue again “Where Homo’s ancestors introduced Dewey to Decimal. Between jackets and spines lie the hidden root… Wait! Dewey to Decimal. It’s the Library! Of course! Between jackets and spines. Get it? Books. The libraries organize books according to the Dewey Decimal system. The first three letters reference the particular broad subject, like science, literature et cetera, while the second three numbers indicate the sub-section of that subject. We’re looking for a book in the library. Let’s go!”

  Alex dropped the skull back into the drawer and started running toward the elevator.

  “Wait! What about the root and submerged foot part? What does that mean?” Ezra yelled after her as she sped down the ramp.

  “Not sure yet, but we’ll figure it out.”

  Ezra laughed under his breath as he followed hastily after her. He had never been part of a treasure hunt and this excited him to no end.

  Back at the minivan, Alex spread the map open on the dashboard. “Do you have any idea which library it might be?”

  “I’ve only ever come to one library and it’s the Johannesburg City Library. It’s a couple of blocks away.”

  “That’s a start; certainly seems like the most logical. Let’s go.”

  Alex pulled her seatbelt across her chest and glanced at Ezra as they took off. She never noticed that he was of mixed race. It didn’t matter much to her, but she was curious to know more about him. “Were you born in Johannesburg?” She asked cautiously.

  Ezra’s eyes met hers briefly as he turned the corner. “Nope, Cape Town.”

  His voice was tainted with a somberness Alex didn’t quite understand.

  “So your parents still live there then?” Alex probed further in an effort to lighten the mood. Instead, her question prompted Ezra’s lips to tighten into a thin line. He looked away without answering.

  “Sorry, I was just trying to get to know you.”

  Ezra’s shoulders tensed up as he cleared his throat. “My parents are both dead, Alex. My mother was killed by a revengeful white farmer on the day Mandela was released, and my father died shortly after the army called me to service.”

  Alex drew in a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. I had no right to ask.” She watched as his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. The cold tone of his voice spoke volumes about a lifetime of hurt. Deciding to focus her attention on the map instead, she sat quietly in her seat.

  “I was barely five at the time. I watched them shoot my mother in front of the whole world and no one did anything about it. Yes, she was black and my father white, but she didn’t deserve to die.”

  “No one does, Ezra. It’s ok to be angry.”

  “That’s just it Alex, I’m not. I’ve moved on and yet here I am; serving the country and expected to kill the very people who killed my mother. How can I? I understand the concept of defending my country against foreign enemies, except I’m not though, am I? We’re caught in the middle of a self-inflicted war. A war between this country’s very own people. And for what? Power? To prove a point? No one can change the past. It happened. Why can’t this country move forward?”

  Alex listened as Ezra’s voice changed from sadness to anger and then despair. “I can’t answer that, Ezra, but I do know that you’re one of the bravest souls I’ve ever met, and if yo
u could overcome such a horrific act of hatred, then anyone can.”

  Ezra shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as his eyes caught sight of the only other car in the street from his rearview mirror.

  “I hate to spoil the moment, Alex, but I think we have company.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “It’s Volkov. We can’t let him find out we’re heading to the library. Do you think you can lose him?”

  “I’ll try,” Ezra replied as he pushed his foot down on the accelerator, dodging a charred couch in the middle of the street. The taxi van expelled clouds of black smoke from the exhaust pipe as Ezra accelerated. Moments later a loud clanging noise filled their ears.

  “I think we just lost the exhaust.”

  Alex turned to look out the rear window. “Affirmative, we’re going to need to change vehicles. We’re about a block away from the library. Turn here.” She instructed Ezra who promptly turned the vehicle into the opposite direction in an attempt to lose Volkov. It didn’t work. With the exhaust gone, the minivan was losing power — and with that their head start.

  “There!” Alex pointed to a parking garage up ahead. “Hopefully we might gain enough distance between us to allow time for us to abandon the car and find another one.”

  The basement parking was dark and totally deserted. A few overhead lights flickered, emitting orange sparks every couple of seconds. Ezra maneuvered the van around the garage, increasing speed on the straights. It took three more corners before he headed up the ramp, bouncing over a metal studded speed bump. Alex had her head turned to face the back, expecting Volkov to come around the corner, but remarkably they had successfully managed to gain enough distance to have lost sight of them.

  “Pull in under the ramp,” she directed Ezra who screeched the van in a hundred and eighty degree circle and pulled in underneath the ramp; wedging the roof between the cramped overhead concrete space. The tight positioning prevented either of their doors from opening. “Out the back!” Alex yelled already climbing over the rows of seats to the boot. The dilapidated state of the vehicle proved in their favor as it only took one kick for the rear door to open and they fell to the ground. The screeching sound of car wheels around the corner warned them that Volkov had caught up and they rolled underneath the row of abandoned cars to the left of the van. Obscured by the darkness and wall angle, Volkov’s car sped past and up the ramp to the next level.

  Alex and Ezra crawled out from underneath the cars and bolted for the stairwell.

  “Hurry, they’ll figure out we dodged them somehow,” Alex yelled as they barged through the stairwell door of the floor below. Her eyes searched for a car that would be easy enough to hot wire.

  “I got this,” Ezra declared and Alex watched as the young soldier shoved his elbow through the window of a nearby car and climbed in. A mere second later the engine started without a key even before Alex had a chance to shut her door properly.

  “I’m impressed,” she remarked.

  “Yeah don’t ask. I did a lot of stupid things when I was a kid.”

  The gray sedan navigated the corners far easier than their previous mode of transportation and shortly after they had already reached the parking garage exit. Alex glanced back. “Looks like we lost them. Well done Ezra.”

  “Shall we chance it to the library?”

  Alex nodded as Ezra gathered speed the moment they exited the parking garage. A split second later bullets hit their vehicle’s roof, catching them both by surprise. Bullets slammed into Alex’s door and behind her seat the window shattered into a million pieces.

  “Damn it! Now they know what car we’re in,” Ezra swore.

  “They have a bird’s eye view from up there so go around. If they see we’re heading for the library they’ll come for us there.”

  Ezra took a sharp left and another sudden right turn; disappearing between a row of tall office buildings. In that moment of safety Alex felt the sharp pain in her shoulder and reached to rub it. When she pulled her hand away from her arm she felt the sticky wetness between her fingers.

  “You got shot!” Ezra expelled as he noticed the blood on her palm.

  “I’m fine. We need to get as close to the library as we can and go the rest on foot before they find the car. Park up in that alleyway.”

  Still concerned with her injury, Ezra did as she instructed and hid the car in a narrow street between the buildings. Blood seeped from Alex’s arm leaving tiny droplets on the paving. Ezra searched the car and found a shopping bag with linen in the boot. Relieved he ripped one of the sheets and tightened the expensive cotton rag around her bleeding arm.

  “That should do for now. We need to make a run for it,” Ezra voiced as he fastened the last knot. Aware they were now an open target for insurgent groups, they readied their guns and set off down the street. The sudden sound of men’s voices coming from the entrance to a nearby block of flats alerted them and they ducked behind a garbage bin. Alex searched for another way through. Turning back wasn’t an option. Blood had started to seep through the bandage and she felt lightheaded.

  “This way,” Ezra whispered as he pulled Alex to her feet and opened a rusted metal door behind them. The door shut loudly behind them and Ezra cursed at his negligence. Convinced it had alerted the gang to their presence, he pushed the leg of a nearby broken barstool across the door handle. It wouldn’t hold but it might buy them some much needed time. Behind the door it was dark and they realized they had come through the back entrance of a street club. Old cigarette smoke hung thick in the air. The sharp acid stench of old urine stung their nostrils when they ran past the toilets. The loud banging of the metal door behind them warned them that their suspicions were correct and the gang had caught up with them. Alex pushed away the frantic wave of fear that engulfed her body, which was now weakening under her straining legs. Dozens of dead bodies lay strewn across the bar floor. Many of them already decomposed and it took nearly everything for Alex not to expel her stomach contents. Ezra paused briefly at the green stained-glass front door before he flung it open and stuck his gun out. Alex followed suit. Their path was clear and they bolted down the street. Ezra pulled Alex by the arm around the corner just as they heard the bar door bang behind them. With any luck they had turned the corner just in time. Oxygen pumped vigorously through her veins as Alex pushed her body to the extreme. She was no longer in control of her legs which seemed to give way with every step she took. Her temples throbbed and her mouth was dry.

  “Almost there, Alex.”

  Alex was aware of Ezra’s comforting voice moments before everything went black.

  * * *

  The soothing warmth of a damp cloth against her forehead brought Alex back to consciousness. Her lips stuck together as she tried to open her mouth to speak.

  “Shh dear, just rest.”

  Her eyelids were heavy and the room spun fiercely when she heard a woman’s shrill voice pierce her aching head.

  “Ez, bring your aunty some water!”

  Confused, Alex forced her eyes open to see a short, overweight black woman seated next to her.

  “Where am I?” Alex murmured confused. “Where are my clothes?” Suddenly aware she was in her underwear under a blanket.

  “Hey, you’re awake. Shh, it’s ok. We’re at my aunt’s house. We’re ok. Here, drink some water.”

  Alex leaned her head forward to take a drink of water from the glass Ezra held up against her lips.

  “What happened?” Alex whispered.

  “You passed out while we were running away from the gang. It must have been the bullet wound. You lost a lot of blood.”

  Alex recalled the gunshot to her shoulder and instinctively reached for it. Her fingers slid across a fresh bandage.

  “My uncle is a vet. He managed to remove the bullet while you were out.”

  “A vet?” Alex panicked.

  “Yes, yes, desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s the same procedure so you were in good hands, don’t worry. You
might start barking like a dog soon though.”

  Alex smiled at Ezra’s silly attempt to make her feel better.

  “You need to eat some soup, dear,” the shrill voice of Ezra’s aunt cut in. “My mother used to say nothing fixes you up faster than homemade chicken soup.”

  “This is my aunt Nozipho. We call her Aunty Nozi for short,” Ezra introduced them.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Not that long; about eight hours. It has given us enough time to evade Volkov and the gang. There’s no way he’ll find us here.”

  Alex searched the room. “Where are my clothes? We need to get to the library.”

  “Not so fast, you’re still recovering. My uncle gave you a strong sedative. Besides, it’s almost midnight. Eat your soup and sleep it off. We’ll head out tomorrow morning first thing.”

  There was no reason to fight it. Ezra was right. She hardly had enough energy to lift her hand to feed herself, much less run away from Volkov.

  * * *

  The sun peered through the small single window in Aunty Nozi’s kitchen. Her house was entirely made from corrugated tin sheets and the size of an oversized garden shed. Against the one wall a tin bowl stood next to a kettle, a toaster and a two plate stove. Against the opposite wall was the single bed Alex had slept in and a small chocolate brown couch pushed up against the third wall. As tiny and cramped as it was, it was as neat as a pin and evident Ezra’s aunt took great pride in her humble abode.

  “Eat dearie, you need to build up your strength.” Aunt Nozi placed a breakfast bowl with steaming brown sludge in front of her on the table. Alex stared at the runny chocolate colored goop in her bowl.

  “It’s porridge. We call it Maltabella — made from malt. Here, add some sugar and milk,” Ezra explained as he added a sprinkle of white sugar and a dollop of milk.

  As non-appetizing as it appeared, Alex was starving. The instant strength after the first spoonful was welcoming and she found herself tucking in with fervor. Ezra smiled in the knowledge that no one had ever been able to resist his Aunt Nozi’s famous porridge.

 

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