Decimation: The Girl Who Survived

by Burke, Richard T.

  “Thanks,” Kat said. “You’ve got my number.”

  Chapter 40

  Saturday 8th January 2033

  Jason opened the door and entered his mother’s outer office. The lights came on as he crossed the threshold. Her secretary was not at the desk, but that was hardly surprising on a Saturday evening. He approached the door leading to her inner sanctum and knocked. No answer. He stuck his head inside the room and saw that it was empty. Typical. He pulled his phone from his pocket and double checked the message.

  Fancy going out for a meal tonight? Meet me at the hospital at 6pm. Mum.

  He tapped out a reply.

  I’m here. Where r u?

  His mother was probably in a meeting. He typed out a second message.

  I’ll wait at hospital reception.

  Jason strolled along the corridor towards the stairs. Despite the exertions of that afternoon, he would still have felt guilty if he had taken the elevator. He trotted down the staircase taking two steps at a time and emerged into the reception area. Even at this hour on a weekend, medical staff bustled to and fro, like worker ants around sugar.

  A solitary receptionist wearing a headset pressed a button on the screen in front of her. “Just putting you through.” She turned her attention to Jason and smiled brightly. “Hello, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “Um … I’m here to meet my mother, Mrs Baxter.”

  The smile dropped a notch. “Right. I’ll try her office.”

  Jason opened his mouth to explain that she wasn’t there, but the woman had already placed the call.

  “There’s no reply. Do you want me to page her?”

  “No, don’t bother. I just wondered if you knew where she was. I’m supposed to meet her at six.”

  The receptionist glanced up at the large illuminated display above the entrance. 18:10. “I’m sorry, I don’t have your mother’s schedule, but if you’d like to take a seat, I’m sure she’ll be along shortly.”

  “Thanks.” Jason turned and ambled towards a row of blue-coloured armchairs. As he did so, he spotted a middle-aged woman in a blue nurse’s uniform staring at him from a few feet away.

  She took a pace forwards. “Did I just hear you say you’re Mrs Baxter’s son?”

  Jason nodded.

  “Oh hello. It’s nice to meet you.” She extended a hand. “My name’s Rose.”

  The skin of the woman’s palm felt rough and dry.

  “I’ve just seen your mother with Dr Perrin,” she said. “They’re in the basement lab. I can take you down there if you want.”

  “Um … sure, thanks,” Jason replied.

  “Okay, follow me,” the woman said, heading in the direction of a set of double doors labelled private. She waved a card at a box on the wall and barged through. She led the way down a corridor to another door carrying a large yellow warning sign. ‘Biohazard – authorised personnel only.’ Once again she used the card to gain access and pressed the lift call button.

  “Is it safe down there?” Jason asked, a worried expression occupying his face.

  The woman looked puzzled for a second until she realised what had drawn Jason’s attention. “Oh, yes,” she laughed. “Don’t worry about that. You’ll be perfectly alright.”

  A ping announced the lift’s arrival, and they stepped inside. Rose stared into the red light of the iris scanner and selected the basement level.

  “I never even knew this was here,” Jason said as the floor sank away.

  “Yes, this is where a lot of the sensitive work takes place,” Rose said. “All very hush-hush, but then again, you are the boss’s son.”

  The doors slid apart to reveal a featureless white corridor. The illumination cast by the diffuse ceiling lights was so bright that Jason had to shade his eyes.

  “Yes, it is a bit dazzling, isn’t it?” Rose said as she guided them past several numbered doors. They turned a corner and encountered a guard wearing a brown uniform sitting outside one of the rooms. “Hi Tony,” she called. “Just taking Mrs Baxter’s son to see her.”

  The man waved a hand but didn’t reply.

  “It’s just at the end,” Rose said, pointing.

  “Um, Rose,” Jason said, slowing down. “Is there a loo nearby?”

  “There’s a Gents just there. I’ll wait for you here.”

  A strong perfumed scent hit Jason’s nostrils as he entered, in stark contrast to the medicinal smell in the corridor outside. He relieved himself at the urinal then stood by the white marble sink and examined his reflection in the mirror. The cold winter air had coloured his cheeks a rosy hue. His hair looked like he had just got out of bed, several patches sticking out at odd angles. He rinsed his hands under the tap and smoothed down the stray tufts. He used the dryer then pulled the door towards him.

  As he exited into the corridor, a movement to the right drew his eye. The end of a hospital trolley emerged from the room outside which the guard was sitting. A body lay on top covered by a sheet. Jason half expected the head to be covered too, but it wasn’t. He only gained the briefest of glimpses, but he instantly recognised the face of the patient. It couldn’t be. She was dead. His mother had told him so. Yet her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.

  Two orderlies wearing green outfits followed the trolley out, partially obscuring his view. An arm moved. The person lying on the stretcher was definitely alive. The two men turned the corner and disappeared from sight pushing their cargo before them.

  Jason stood slack-jawed, staring after the departed trolley. The nurse’s voice dragged him back to the real world. “It’s this way. We don’t want to keep your mother waiting.”

  Jason stumbled towards her as if in a trance.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You don’t look well.”

  “I’m fine,” he replied, but his face felt flushed, and his ears were burning.

  Rose resumed her route, a worried frown creasing her forehead. Reaching the door labelled ‘Chief Scientist’, she knocked loudly.

  A voice inside shouted, “Come.”

  She turned the handle and held the door open for Jason. “Your son was waiting in reception, Mrs Baxter. I thought I’d do you a favour and bring him down.”

  Even as she said the words, she realised from the shocked expressions on the two people’s faces that she had made a terrible mistake.

  Chapter 41

  Saturday 8th January 2033

  The pen tip clicked in and out at an alarming rate. “Jesus Christ, Rose. What were you thinking? You know about the security precautions. We have them for a purpose.”

  The nurse’s chin quivered. She looked like she was about to burst into tears at any second. “Sorry Dr Perrin. I … I thought–”

  “That’s exactly the problem. You didn’t think.”

  “But he’s her son. I thought it would be alright to bring him down here. I was only trying to be helpful.”

  “Look,” Perrin said, attempting to control his temper. “We have several women being held down here against their will. What do you think would happen if he discovered what we were doing? The boy’s sixteen for heaven’s sake. Would you tell your teenage son something like that?”

  “I haven’t got a–”

  The doctor slammed the pen down. “Jesus, Rose. Are you winding me up deliberately?” He glared at her across the desk. Now, she did start crying. She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket in her uniform and dabbed at her eyes. A series of mewling whimpers emerged from beneath the square of cotton.

  Rosalind and Jason Baxter had departed a few minutes earlier. Perrin knew from the paleness of the CEO’s face and the vivid red spots on her cheeks that she was struggling to maintain her composure. He had been unfortunate enough to witness several meltdowns over the years and had offered to handle this situation, knowing that if left to Rosalind, the nurse would be unemployed by morning and also probably on Grolby’s to-do list. He debated with himself what action to take. The easy option would be to fire Rose on the spot. She had
committed a grossly irresponsible breach of security and could have no complaints if they sacked her. In her favour, she was actually a good worker and would be hard to replace. That, and the fact that she knew too much. What she said next would help him to decide.

  “So, did he see anything he shouldn’t have?”

  Rose lowered the handkerchief and sniffed loudly. “Um, like what?”

  Perrin frowned. “Are you being deliberately obtuse, Rose? Do I have to spell it out? Did the boy see anything he wasn’t supposed to?”

  “Oh, you mean like one of the patients?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  The nurse hesitated for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. We were only in the corridor for a second or two.”

  Perrin’s eyes bored into her. “You do realise that the sixteen-year-old girl, Antimone, was his girlfriend?”

  The colour fled from her face. “His girlfriend?”

  “Look, Rose, you’re really stretching my patience. Antimone Lessing was Jason Baxter’s girlfriend. You just led him right past her room. Now did he or did he not see anything?”

  “N–n–no,” she stammered. She met the doctor’s gaze for a second then stared down at her feet.

  “You better not be lying, Rose. Are you sure?”

  A quick glance up. “No, he definitely didn’t see anything.”

  The doctor relaxed slightly. “Good.”

  Another sniff from the nurse. “So, is Mrs Baxter going to fire me?”

  “I’ll have a chat with her in the morning. Just make sure you stay out of her way. Are you working tomorrow?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. You’re going to take a couple of days off, starting immediately, as holiday of course. There’s been a breakthrough in developing a cure, so hopefully she’ll be in a good mood over the next week or so. I can’t make any promises, but I think I can persuade her not to do anything too drastic.”

  Rose buried her face in the handkerchief again. “Thanks, Dr Perrin. I really appreciate it. I was only trying to be helpful.”

  “Yes, I know, Rose. Now I suggest you go home. Have a good break, and when you come back, for heaven’s sake, do as I said and keep out of Mrs Baxter’s way.”

  Perrin watched as the nurse got to her feet and shuffled towards the door, her body language a picture of dejection. He waited until he had the room to himself then walked around the desk and made sure that she was not standing outside. He returned to his seat and stared at the phone for a second or two. Placing the handset to his ear, he spoke Grolby’s name. A click and three rapid beeps. The sound of a ring tone. Another click as somebody answered.

  “Grolby here.”

  Perrin remained silent, wrestling with his thoughts.

  Grolby’s voice again. “Is anybody there?”

  “Sorry, Anders. It’s Nigel. It’s nothing. I dialled your number by mistake.”

  Chapter 42

  Saturday 8th January 2033

  A burst of raucous laughter erupted from the corner of the restaurant. Three suited men and their expensively dressed partners were sharing a table and by the sound of it, several bottles of wine. La Cordonnerie was one of the most expensive places to eat in Cambridge but in spite of this, always had a long waiting list. However, when Rosalind Baxter’s personal assistant had called about a reservation, a table for two miraculously became available.

  Jason sat across from his mother, studying her as her eyes ran down the menu. The journey had passed mostly in silence. Throughout the drive, she had remained engrossed in the screen of her mobile phone, but he could tell by her uneven breathing and the slight tremble in her fingers that she was still seething with anger. As they neared their destination, she had finally emerged from her fugue-like state and had asked him about his day. He had been deliberately vague, implying that he had not left the house.

  The aroma of French cooking made his stomach rumble, overlaid though it was with the scent of his mother’s perfume. Rosalind dropped the folded menu on the tablecloth, and within seconds the waiter was standing beside them, pen and pad at the ready. Neither of them ordered a starter, Jason choosing the pan-fried duck and his mother a tuna salad.

  Rosalind ran a finger down the wine list. “Ah, a Chateau Margaux, twenty twenty-five. Not a bad vintage. I’ll have a bottle of that please. Do you want a drink?”

  Jason shrugged. “Water’s fine, thanks.”

  “I thought we should go out to celebrate,” she said. “I know I haven’t been home much recently, but we’ve made an exciting breakthrough. We might finally be on the path to a cure.”

  “Good,” Jason replied. “Is that what happens in the basement?”

  Rosalind frowned. “The work that goes on down there is top secret. I know that nurse meant well, but she should know better than to bring unauthorised people down there, even if you are my son.”

  “Anyway,” she said, brightening, “Back to school on Monday. Any more thoughts about what you might want to do for a career?”

  “Well, obviously something related to science with the subjects I’m studying, but I’m not really sure yet.”

  The arrival of the waiter holding a bottle of wine interrupted the conversation. He presented the label to Rosalind. She nodded her approval, and he withdrew a corkscrew from a pocket in his jacket before removing the cork. He poured a small amount into Rosalind’s glass and waited while she took a sip.

  “That’s fine,” she said, putting it down.

  The man half-filled the glass with ruby-coloured liquid. He turned to Jason. “Would Monsieur care for some wine?” he asked.

  “You’re sixteen now,” his mother replied on his behalf. “I think you’re old enough for a glass.”

  Jason was not unaccustomed to the taste of alcohol, but on the few occasions he had tried it, he couldn’t really see what all the fuss was about. At his age, it was more a case of conforming with his peers, but he wasn’t about to go into that with his mother. “Yeah, okay,” he said.

  The waiter smiled and poured the wine, barely covering the bottom of the glass. He placed the bottle in the centre of the table and draped a napkin around the neck.

  “Now, where were we?” Rosalind asked once the man had departed.

  Jason stared at his mother for a moment before replying. “I know she’s alive. I saw Antimone this evening.”

  Rosalind froze, the wineglass halfway to her lips. Slowly, she returned it to the table. The tinkle of cutlery and the muffled conversations of the other diners seemed to increase in volume to fill the silence.

  Finally, she spoke, her voice a low whisper. “Jason, you don’t know what’s going on.”

  Jason leant forwards. “But you told me she was dead. You lied to me.”

  A flush rose from Rosalind’s neck. “I did it to protect you.”

  “So, she’s the breakthrough that you mentioned?”

  The pinkness had extended to her cheeks. “The less you know about this, the better.”

  “But you’re not denying that she’s alive?”

  The silence stretched longer this time. “Yes, she survived the birth, and she’s being cared for at Ilithyia.”

  “But she’s my friend. Jesus, I’m the father. You let me think I was responsible for her death. Did the baby survive too?”

  An expression of anger flashed across Rosalind’s face. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “You might be the child’s father but, as we both know, you’re not culpable when it comes to the pregnancy. Unfortunately, the child died.”

  “What happened?”

  “A bacterial infection is what happened. Now I don’t want to talk about this here.”

  It was Jason’s turn to display his anger. “So when are we going to discuss it? You hardly ever come home these days.”

  Red blotches formed in the centre of her cheeks. “I don’t answer to you.”

  “Would you rather I discussed it with the police?”

  Rosalind pushed the table back and s
tood up, wine sloshing from her glass and staining the tablecloth. The sudden movement drew glances from the other diners. “Right, we’re leaving.” She strode towards the bar at the entrance and entered into a low conversation with a man in a bowtie standing by the till. She withdrew her phone from her purse and waved it at the reader, then stormed out onto the pavement without checking whether Jason was following. Her fingers jabbed at the screen of the phone and within a few seconds their driverless car drew up alongside. Almost before the vehicle had stopped moving, she extended a hand and yanked the door open. She climbed in and slammed it closed behind her.

  For a moment, Jason thought she was going to drive off without him, but the car remained stationary. He crossed to the far side, opened the door and clambered in. He buckled himself into the seat on the opposite side from his mother. She stared straight ahead, a vein throbbing prominently at her temple.

  Finally, she turned to face him and spoke, ice dripping from every word. “You do not talk to me like that … ever. Am I clear?”

  Jason remained silent, his heart thudding in his chest. He had never pushed her this hard before.

  “Am I clear?” she repeated, raising her voice.

  Jason met her eyes, nodded then looked away.

  “There is more going on here than you can possibly imagine,” she said. “Yes, Antimone survived the birth against all expectations. It was nothing to do with any treatment that we gave her. It seems that she has some natural immunity to the virus. Now, think about it for a minute. Millions of women have died since this virus first emerged. Your friend, Antimone, holds the key. Think of the lives that could be saved. Now, knowing all that, do you think she could just saunter out of the hospital and resume her life? Of course not. Apart from being hounded by the press, she’d be a target for every religious nutcase and lunatic who thinks it’s a punishment from God. What’s more, she’d be top of the kidnap list of every foreign power trying to develop a cure of their own.

  “Keeping her survival quiet is the best thing that could happen to her. When we’ve found a way to treat this disease, she’ll no longer be such a big story. She’ll just be one of many women who have survived giving birth. But that means we have to keep the fact that she’s alive a secret. If news gets out, she’ll be in danger, and the chances of finding a cure will be reduced. You can see that, can’t you?”