Captain Martin took a step forward, back rigid, his head held high. “I take full responsibility for that, sir. I was in charge of the operation and I failed.”
With a wave of his hand Wade dismissed the captain’s apology. “You’re a good man, George. God knows I wouldn’t have made it half as far as you did. You don’t have to be sorry for anything. We’re in uncharted territory here. We’re all making this up as we go along now. Frank? Taylor? The next question applies to all of you.”
Taylor was listening as she held on to Cidney’s pink backpack. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something caught her attention. A zipper opened enough to let a single piece of white paper peek through.
Wade finally lifted his eyes from the table. “Did either of you see anything or did the doctor say anything that might help? Anything at all would be…” Wade’s gaze rested on Taylor.
She could feel his eyes on her. Curious, she lifted the bag and opened the satchel’s main compartment. Taylor wasn’t sure what she thought she would find inside; clothes, a stuffed animal, toiletries. Inside there was a pile of papers and a book.
Her breath caught as she pulled out the files of the doctor’s work and his personal journal. Instinct directed her eyes to where Cidney sat. Melissa had set her up with a chair and was helping the girl clean off the blood from her hands and arms.
Cidney was allowing the woman to help but she was looking at Taylor. When their eyes met, Cidney gave Taylor the slightest nod and the saddest smile Taylor had ever seen.
“Taylor?” Wade’s voice broke their moment. “Taylor, are you all right?”
She returned her gaze to the backpack and reached into the bag. “I think we’re more than okay. The doctor left us a parting gift.”
CHAPTER 27
The five of them sifted through files and documents the doctor had worked on for a lifetime. Some of the research papers dated back to a time the doctor would have been in college.
“He saw all of this coming and we didn’t listen,” Wade said.
“James Jones?” Captain Martin asked, changing the subject. “Is he alive?”
Wade nodded. “Yes, he is, as well as a few others we’ve managed to capture who fell victim to the disease. Our teams are getting nowhere with the tests. It’s as if they’ve gone mad. Their only purpose now is to kill or infect others with the sickness they have. What once started as a psychological epidemic brought on by Vanidrum is turning into a biological attack bent on spreading.”
“I think the doctor was right when he told us that whatever this is, is pure evil,” Frank said. “This madness that is spreading across the globe has always been here, it only ever needed a way to get out. The drug gave it its escape route.”
Wade nodded. “It would seem that is what all the doctor’s work is pointing to. How do we stop it?”
“He said there wasn’t a way.” Taylor rubbed her red eyes. “He said all there was left to do was fight the darkness, that there isn’t a cure for it.”
The table was silent again, drinking down the information like a bad cough syrup.
“Maybe if we can’t cure it, we could create a drug to fight it?” Jason suggested. “I think this is further up Frank’s alley. Perhaps if we can’t cure those who are already sick, could we reverse the results to bring out the light in people who aren’t sick yet? Maybe that will either make us immune to the disease or, at the very least, make us stronger to fight it.”
“You mean create super soldiers by reversing the results so instead of bringing out the darkest parts of us, it brings out the best?” Frank clarified. “What would that even look like? People running around giving hugs and words of affirmation?”
Jason shrugged. “When you put it like that, it sounds insane. But who knows? I’m not seeing a whole lot of options here. We have rolling blackouts in every major city, the government has declared martial law, and every branch of the military is being called home to try and contain the situation.”
Frank bit his lip and echoed Jason’s words, “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Could it work, Frank?” Wade asked.
“I guess. I mean, it’s a good theory. I’d have to talk to your biological and genetic teams to see if that would be possible. It would require a few doctorates I don’t have.”
“My dad said it would work.”
All eyes turned to Cidney, who stood at the edge of the table, her chin barely cresting the ledge. Melissa was nowhere to be seen, probably called off to some more important task than babysitting a little girl while the apocalypse took place on their doorstep.
“He said that’s the only way to win,” Cidney went on. “That the light would have to fight the darkness. He said God wouldn’t leave us defenseless. He’d give us a way to fight this thing, but the change has to come from the inside.”
In the early hours of the morning, Cidney was making too much sense. The table of hardened warriors and business leaders sat stunned as they each weighed Cidney’s words.
“Frank, I want you to get on this right away,” Wade said. “I’ll put you in contact with our lead geneticist here at Lazarus.”
CHAPTER 28
Taylor didn’t want to know what time it was. Her guess was somewhere in the range of one to two a.m. Her body was beyond exhausted. The only thing keeping her going was the pace her mind was running.
If Cidney was right, there wasn’t a cure, but there could be a way to immunize themselves from the darkness. Maybe even counter it by somehow altering the disease.
These thoughts would have to be saved for another time. It was decided that Cidney and Taylor would share a room in the building’s vast store of apartments, and they were on their way now. Unbeknownst to Taylor, Lazarus had an entire section dedicated to dormitory-type living. Originally the space had been used for employees and scientists ranging from biologists to genetic engineers, who needed a quick nap or place to rest. Now it had been converted to apartment-type living. In the last twenty-four hours beds had been brought in with toiletries and fresh changes of clothes.
Cidney and Taylor crossed the long hall in silence. They were both tired, hungry, and dirty. Even Cidney, who had been cleaned up as much as possible thanks to Melissa, still wore her blood-spattered shirt.
Their room was small; a single bed in the corner with a chair, desk, and door that led to an adjacent bathroom.
Someone had arranged for food for them. An assortment of pre-packaged sandwiches, fruit, and cookies from the cafeteria were waiting for them on the bed.
The two fell on the food like they hadn’t eaten for days. In between bites of a turkey and cheddar sandwich, the Cleaner and the child got to know one another.
“Do you have a mom and dad?” Cidney asked.
Taylor paused mid-chew. “No, I don’t.”
“What happened to them?”
“They both passed away while I was younger.”
Cidney’s cheeks were full of apple. She raised a hand to over her mouth, despite her level of exhaustion remembering her manners. “My mom died when I was a baby, from a car accident. Now my dad’s gone too. I wish they were still alive so I could talk to them.”
Taylor had no idea what to say. Instead of trying to comfort the girl, she took another bite of her own sandwich, a feeble attempt at not having to engage in the next line of conversation.
“What do you think is going to happen to us?”
“I guess we’ll use your father’s work to beat this thing. He was a brilliant man, Cidney. It’s because of him that we even have a chance.”
The girl nodded. “I’m sleepy.”
“I know, so am I. We should really do something about your clothes. Did you bring any extra? I thought I saw some in your backpack.”
Cidney nodded and grabbed her bag. She crossed the room to the bathroom and flipped on the lights. One peek inside and she was back. “There’s no shower.”
Taylor rose from her seat, the last bits of a sugar cookie giving her a brief ener
gy rush. Cidney was right. The bathroom was small, a sink with a few towels, soap, and a toilet.
“It looks like you’ll have to use a towel and wash off as best you can.”
Cidney looked at her like she was speaking a different language. “I don’t know how to do that. Can you help me?”
Cidney’s simple question had given her more pause than rushing an elevator full of diseased maniacs. In her short time with the girl, Taylor was racking up a new record for uncomfortable situations.
Cidney sensed her hesitancy and felt she needed to explain herself. “I…I, it’s, I know how to give myself a shower but I’ve never used a towel to clean my whole body. Do I just need to wipe? It’s kinda weird.”
Taylor imagined any eight-year-old would have trouble carrying out this task, especially if they had never had to do it before. All things considered, Cidney was handling the day’s events like a rock star. If all she needed was a bit of guidance with her bathing, Taylor wouldn’t say no.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Taylor started the tap, waiting for the water to warm. “You’ll need to take off your shirt and your pants. You have extras in your bag right?”
Cidney nodded. “My shoes and socks too, right?”
“Yeah, I can turn around if you want or—”
The little girl was already halfway undressed. Her head was disappearing from under her shirt like a gopher down a hole. “No,” she said with a muffled voice through the shirt’s cotton fabric. “You’re a girl too, so that’s fine. If you were a boy, you’d have to wait in the other room.”
Taylor smiled at her logic. In another minute Cidney was down to her underwear and Taylor was gently rubbing her narrow back and neck with a warm towel.
“I think my mom used to do this for me when I was little but I can’t remember. It’s like a dream.”
Taylor was rushing through the exercise as fast as she could. Treating it like a drill, she was already down to Cidney’s legs and feet.
“I’m sure she was much better at it than me. Don’t worry, we’re almost done.”
“It’s okay, you’re doing a good job.”
“Thanks.”
With a series of final nervous strokes, Taylor finished. She was surprised to find herself sweating, her brow damp not from the exertion of the exercise but her own anxiety when it came to dealing with children.
Cidney was dressed in a plain white shirt with a new pair of jeans. She folded her bloody clothes in a neat pile and placed them on the sink. “Do you think we can save my shirt? It was my dad’s favorite, remember?”
Taylor nodded. “We can definitely save your shirt. Come on, let’s get you in bed now.”
Cidney followed Taylor to the bed and burrowed deep under the covers. “Where are you going to sleep?”
Taylor pulled the single chair sitting in the room toward Cidney’s bed. “Here.”
“In the chair? Isn’t that going to be uncomfortable?”
Taylor switched off the lights and eased herself into the embrace of the chair’s cushions. “I think I could sleep on a rock right now.”
“Could you tell me a story?”
“A story?”
“Yeah, you know, like a fairytale. My dad would tell me one every night when it was time for bed.”
Taylor’s eyes adjusted to the darkness that enveloped the room. To her right, she could barely make out Cidney’s large eyes looking at her for a response. Fatigue was setting in fast. Taylor knew if she was this tired, Cidney had to be fighting sleep with everything she had.
“Okay, but only one.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“So—”
“You have to start with ‘once upon a time.’”
“What?”
Cidney yawned, her words coming out slow as she fought off the sandman’s world of dreams. “That’s how you start a bedtime story.”
“Okay, you’re the expert.” Taylor cleared her throat and started again. “Once upon a time there were two little girls.”
“What were their names?”
“Glock and Remington, and they owned an eagle, a desert eagle.”
“Those are weird names for girls.”
Cidney barely managed to mouth the words. Her eyes were already closed, cheek resting heavy on the soft white pillow that cradled her with so much care.
“Yeah, well, it’s my story and those are their names,” Taylor said with a smile. “Let’s see, the year was 1911 and they lived in a land torn apart by war. Their country’s name was…”
Heavy breathing saved Taylor from having to finish. Tiny snores drifted from her roommate in the same rhythm in which waves beat the shore.
In all honesty, telling stories wasn’t as bad as Taylor expected. She fell asleep sitting in the chair next to Cidney thinking of where her story would have gone if she had been able to finish.
Her dreams, however, unlike her story, were not something she would enjoy.
CHAPTER 29
Taylor knew she was dreaming. Nevertheless, the notion of waking up refused to cross her mind.
She was standing outside in the middle of a snow-covered landscape. As far as she could see, soft white sheets of snow blanketed the ground, trees, and even the mountains behind her.
There were no buildings or people in sight. Despite the frigid appearance of the area, Taylor felt neither cold nor even chilled. In fact, she was warm. Looking down at her clothes she saw she was wearing a pair of jeans, worn brown boots, and a black tank top that had seen better days.
She stepped forward. Her boot fell through a thin layer of snow and crunched on something underneath.
Taylor lifted her foot to see what she crushed. Her eyes made contact with the item, what appeared to be the side of a human skull. She sank to her knees and began scooping the snow in every direction to uncover the object.
Her hunch was correct, and not only a single bone was there. A whole body of bones was underneath—more than one body, dozens, hundreds. Taylor didn’t care about the ice soaking her pants; she couldn’t feel the cold even if she wanted to. Armloads of snow were scooped from beneath her and thrown over her shoulder.
Her heart was picking up speed. The only sound in this dream, this nightmare, was her own pulse racing as she uncovered the extent of the carnage below. She had no doubt they were human remains. Taylor wasn’t a doctor, nonetheless she knew a ribcage, a skull, even a femur when she saw one.
They were already worn bare of any flesh with time. No clothing, no flesh clung to their rigid frames. Whatever had done this, whoever these people where, it had happened a long time ago.
Taylor sat back on her heels with another crunch. This time she knew it wasn’t only the snow making the sound beneath her weight. Examining the wide circle of cleared snow in front of her, she wondered how far the human remains spanned. A few feet, a few miles?
While this question lingered in her mind, Taylor caught movement. A single figure approached directly in front of her. Her mind told her she shouldn’t be able to see that far but she could. She could even tell it was a single figure of a man making his way toward her.
She rose to her feet and craned her neck forward. He was unarmed, dressed in jeans and a sweater. A few more seconds passed, finally she could make out his features.
Her mind once again told her this was a dream. Only in this world could he still be alive.
Taylor stood in silence as Dr. Jenkins approached.
He stopped a few yards from Taylor with yet another crunch from under his feet. “Taylor Hart, you look well.”
“You, look…” Taylor searched for the correct verbiage to use while speaking with Cidney’s dead father, “…alive.”
He smiled, his grin starting at his mouth and traveling to his eyes. “Thank you. I’m not sure how much time we have, but I wanted to tell you I have faith in you. You can do this.”
Taylor raised her eyebrows. “I can do what?”
The doctor pointed a finger to the ground. “In time, once
you learn to control the light. You’ll be able to do this.”
Taylor’s mind was spinning. “Are you saying I killed all these people?”
The smile that spread across Thomas Jenkins’ face a moment previous was now gone. In its place a determined look. “I’m saying that you are capable of defending the light. There is no cure for man’s inner darkness except through the light. You and others will believe this in time. You are a great woman, Taylor Hart, whether you know this or not.”
Then the doctor’s expression changed again, to one of sadness. Tears filled his eyes as sorrow broke his words. “You’ll make a wonderful role model for my little girl.”
His eyes bored into Taylor’s until she had to break his stare. In the man’s single look a multitude of feelings washed over her like a blast of wind. His eyes spoke of sacrifice, joy, sorrow, pain, hope, but above all, faith.
So many questions were rising in her mind, she didn’t know which one deserved precedence. As she lifted her gaze to reconnect with the doctor’s, she was surprised to see his face turned to the side. No longer were his eyes set on her; he was looking to his left.
Taylor followed his line of sight and landed on yet another figure, this one a girl, no a woman. She stood alone, unaware of either one of them. A gray wolf was curled at her feet. She rubbed the animal’s ears. She was in her late teens, perhaps even in her early twenties, and she was beautiful. Long dark hair was falling over both her shoulders. She was tall, with a smile that said she knew a secret.
It was the smile that gave her away. The same smile that greeted Taylor at the Jenkins’ home; the same face that she tucked into bed and told a story to that night. Taylor looked closer, although there was no doubt the girl was Cidney. Only a version of Cidney a decade older than Taylor knew her.
“Under your guidance, Cidney, as well as many others, will become champions of the light,” the doctor said. Taylor heard him, yet her eyes were too focused on the woman petting the wolf.
All The Beautiful People (A Dread Novel Book 1) Page 13
