They looked exactly like mine.
The sound of rustling clothes behind me prompted me to look over my shoulder, finding Dom lurking there. His eyes were bloodshot, making me guess that he’d been working through the night and had barely caught any sleep. His gaze briefly landed on those last two plates before returning to my face. “That first one’s from the samples you and your group brought us on the first visit,” he explained. “From the hacked-up zombies, remember? That other one’s from the incident that killed Stanton. I had one of the other scientists get the samples from cold storage and plate them in one of the other labs to make sure that I didn’t cross-contaminate them. Growth times are pretty much the same.”
That really didn’t need a more in-depth explanation. I took the news with a nod and turned to Sunny. “Any luck identifying anything?”
Sunny was visibly frustrated, which killed what little filters he normally had—few and far between as they were. “It’s less of a question what’s multiplying in your bloodstream, and more what isn’t? Because that list is a lot shorter.” He reached for a notepad that he’d kept next to his microscope, either ignoring or just plain not seeing the zip-it gesture Dom was making at him. “Let’s start with the big, interesting ones, shall we? At least four different strains of Streptococcus, my favorite of them being Streptococcus pyogenes. Listeria and Clostridium, of course. Haemophilus influenzae surprised me, but probably shouldn’t. Oh, and my personal favorite, Staphylococcus aureus. My guess is that’s the one responsible for your blood coagulation being off the charts. Never seen a live infection of that one outside of a textbook. Really, how you’re still alive is a medical marvel.”
Dom winced at the last remark, doing his best to appear positive. “On the upside, we didn’t find any E. coli in your blood. That’s something.”
I couldn’t help but snort. “Gee, and there I was so afraid of that because, sometimes, I can’t wash my hands out there after taking a shit. But hey, now I have it black on white: I’m special.” Exhaling slowly, I forced myself to swallow the mix of emotions that tried to rise in my chest and turn into full-blown panic. “Well, guess that’s it. Thanks, guys. You did me a solid. Wish I could repay the favor somehow, but I think satisfying your curiosity will have to suffice.”
I turned around and practically ran from the room, barely stopping by the exit to grab my jacket. I was out of the door before Dom could do more than call something after me that I didn’t get. Blake startled out of the chair he’d been dozing in opposite the lab, looking for once not quite like an angry badger. “I’m ready to leave now, Sgt. Blake. If you will please escort me outside now?”
I’d seldom seen anyone this happy to leave a sedentary position. I certainly didn’t mind the brisk clip he set, moving fast enough that I had to scramble to get into my jacket before we made it to the elevator. We had to wait for a few seconds for the doors to open, just long enough for me to dread someone running after me—but the corridor remained empty. Thank fuck for small mercies.
I counted the seconds the trip up to the shack took, my entire body starting to vibrate with the need to move. Breathe in, breathe out—it was that simple. No need to hold my breath, or to start hyperventilating. Only ten, maybe fifteen seconds. I’d seldom needed to see the sky above me this strongly, or take a deep breath of cold, crisp air.
The elevator ground to a halt and I was ready to bolt forward, yet Blake held me back, his arm shooting out in front of me, barring my way. I was ready to try barreling through him, but instead forced myself to hold on to my semblance of calm. “Yes?”
“I’m sure the scientists caught you up on what happened?” He waited until I jerked my chin in an approximation of a nod. “Stanton was a good woman, as were the six scientists that died that morning. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
The laugh that wanted to bubble up inside of me was only shy of hysterical, so I quickly swallowed it. Holding Blake’s gaze, I took my time to formulate my reply. When I opened my mouth, my voice was void of even the slightest tremor, strong and confident as it should be. Damn, when had I gotten so good at bullshitting people? “It wasn’t my fault that you idiots forgot absolutely everything about securing your base and keeping your noncombatants safe. I get why Wilkes chose to use me as the scapegoat—I made myself a target, willingly, and because he wasn’t strong enough to remain independent, he struck his own bargain. But you and I, we both know that even if I’d tried, I could never have pulled off a stunt like that. And what cause would I have had? I have friends here, too.” Pausing, I amended, “Had. I’ve missed seeing a good three people that I was sure I could count on, so I presume they are among the casualties. That I am sorry for. And you are right. Stanton was one of our best. I’m not. And just if you’re wondering—I’ve never regretted killing anyone for even a second. Now move out of my way, or you’ll become the latest body on that increasingly lengthening list.”
My gamble paid off—rather than continue that hulking gig of his, Blake showed his teeth in the approximation of a smile… and stepped aside. “Wilkes wants to talk to you before you leave.”
Part of me should have been glad that I hadn’t misjudged the Silo’s commander completely, but right now, I had bigger fish to fry, and none of them had anything to do with diplomacy.
“I highly doubt that. Tell him I don’t give a fuck. We’ll be gone within the hour, and this will be the last he’ll ever see of me.” And nobody around to accuse me of being melodramatic. Just thinking about the conversation I was going to have a few minutes from now made my stomach heave. So much for holding on to that semblance of calm.
Blake inclined his head and told me where to go, not even bothering with stepping out of the elevator. The door to the shack was unlocked, letting me escape onto the tarmac outside. The air was cold enough to make me gasp as it hit my face, but that came with welcome clarity of mind. It was bright enough outside that the hazy sun shining overhead made me blink, the reflection from the snow making my eyes burn even through my heavily tinted shades. Within seconds I managed to reorient myself and find the building at the very edge of the growing town that Blake had indicated. It would take me about five minutes to walk over there. Five minutes to make up my mind. Shit, but this had been so much easier last time, flipping from being high like a kite to exhausted right out of my mind. I was tired all right, and feeling rather loopy with sleep deprivation and lack of proper nutrition, but nothing comparable to that very first dose of the booster wearing off.
I arrived at the building without a single coherent thought aligning in my mind. So much for preparation.
Nate and Burns were outside, Nate splitting wood while Burns seemed to be keeping him entertained with what looked like a rather one-sided conversation. Nate dropped the ax as soon as Burns nodded at him, alerting him to my presence. I forced my shoulders back and my spine to go ramrod straight, but all my body was capable of was maintaining a slouch. The roiling in my stomach got worse until I was afraid I was going to puke. Then I leaned over and actually expelled part of the protein bar I’d eaten what felt like days ago, the food barely digested although my body had rested a good portion of the night. Symptoms number 10,021 and 10,022. Why was I even still counting? It was all the same, anyway.
I straightened, trying to put on a brave face, but it took Nate exactly one second to read everything I could have said right off my expression. To someone only knowing him passingly, he would have still looked relaxed, but I could see the sudden surge of tension in his shoulders, around his eyes. While I felt ready to fold, he was gearing up for a fight as he held my gaze.
“That bad, huh?” he called across the slowly shrinking distance between us as I kept slogging on. Burns frowned, the fact that he kept his trap shut more than a little alarming.
“I have good news and bad news,” I offered. “Bad news is, I can’t drag you down with me. My cooties do rub off on you, but your body is clearing them out before they can take hold.”
“And yo
urs?”
I shrugged, trying for levity but feeling like even that motion was about to unbalance me to the point where I’d end up on my ass, just from taking the next step. “I’m a textbook-only experience, as Sunny put it. Trust me, I’m feeling so very special right now.” That, and like I really shouldn’t be among people, whatever the control results had shown. I looked around briefly before my gaze returned to Nate’s. “Let’s just pack our things and go. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”
“Tell us what?” Jason called from where he was just rounding the corner of the building, a snow shovel in his hands. Tanner and Gita were hot on his heels, and as soon as they heard him holler, Charlie and the idiot brigade stepped out to join in as well. The rest of the Chargers and Harris and his people followed. Wouldn’t want for anyone to miss this, har har.
I opened my mouth to respond—with what, I still wasn’t sure—but the sounds of someone approaching through the snow behind me made me pause. It was Dom, doing his best to run through the powdery whiteness, a bunch of printouts in his hand. He was winded by the time he stopped beside me, ignoring the rest as he tried to form coherent sentences while gasping for air. “It could still be cross-contamination. And we didn’t have enough of your old samples left to plate them. It’s possible that you already had it all when you were here last.” It must have been obvious that I wasn’t buying it, judging from how he was squinting at me, pleading. “And you don’t show any of the symptoms—“
“Symptoms like what?” Nate cut in, clearly expecting to get a quicker answer from Dom than me.
“She’s still alive, for one thing,” Dom offered, then looked at me sideways as if to check if that was still the case. “With that number of big hitters, you should be nothing but a slab of rotting meat. What you told me about the signs of exhaustion, that could be anything, but it doesn’t necessarily point at a bacterial infection at all, let alone a full-blown contamination like that.”
I kind of expected the others to take a collective step away from me now, but they seemed highly engrossed in following the conversation—and very confused. I couldn’t hold that against them. It was hard for my brain to make sense of anything, and I knew what Dom was talking about. Mostly.
“It’s more than that,” I insisted. “And the bruise on my leg is getting worse.”
Dom made a helpless gesture. “So that’s one bruise—“
I didn’t let him go on. “My fingers have been acting up for months. I didn’t lose a good tooth just for the fun of it. I’m also having trouble digesting food. Hell, I don’t quite remember the last time I had to take a dump, and I’m not bloated like a whale. There are signs. You just don’t want to see them.” Turning to the others but mostly focusing on Nate, I voiced what was quickly becoming my living nightmare. “I’m rotting from the inside out. It’s as simple as that.”
The answering silence wasn’t exactly comfortable. Even Burns seemed at a loss for words. Sadly, that didn’t count for Dom, who, now that he’d regained his breath, was ready to prattle on.
“You haven’t yet tried to take any antibiotics, right?” He held out a small, brown paper bag to me that I only just noticed. “In here’s what we have that I think will at the very least make a dent. It will likely also screw with your gut and skin microbiome, but a week of diarrhea and some rash is still a preferable nuisance if it makes a difference. Your body’s in moderately good condition so you should be able to tough that out.”
That sounded a lot like wishful thinking to me, but I still accepted the bag, yet without checking the contents. Dom held out the papers in his other hand to me as well, and after a second’s hesitation I took them. He’d photocopied a few of the overgrown plates. The rest was a far too extensive list of bacterial species, and the results from what they’d managed to do of the blood panel. Looked like I didn’t have to worry about getting diabetes any day now.
When I didn’t do more than stare at that last paper, Nate took it from me, briefly scanning the numbers. His frown deepened into a scowl the farther down the page he got. Why did they have to print the acceptable ranges on it, too?
“So what this says is that her liver’s not doing too well, and her kidneys are pretty much shot?” he summed up the worst of the damage.
Dom gave a helpless shrug. “Not my expertise, sorry. But it makes sense.” When Nate’s glare switched from the paper to him, he downright cringed. “Her metabolism is working in overdrive to keep going at the moment. Her immune system’s running on full where it’s not failing, and the human body has only so many ways to try to clear itself. The liver and kidneys are the main parts responsible for that. Kill the infection, and they’ll likely recover. It’s also possible that some of what you think are symptoms are merely by-products of your body trying to slow you down so it can work and recover.”
It all sounded so logical, coming from someone with a PhD. So easy to accept. So easy to let hope take over. But while most of the others relaxed—except for Burns, who was likely playing off my reaction, just like Nate—I couldn’t delude myself like that.
“Either that, or my body has pretty much burned through its entire resources, and the candle’s just about to snuff itself out once all the wax is gone.” Maybe a stupid analogy, but it fit to how I was feeling right now. Not quite feverish, but bone-deep weary.
Whatever Dom had been ready to offer up in his protest—that I was sure he’d keep going until I dropped dead right in front of him—went unsaid when the door to the shed opened once more, spilling out Blake, Wilkes, and a few more guards, all of them looking like they meant business. Without much thought I folded the papers and dropped them into the bag so I’d have one hand free to draw my so-far undiscovered backup gun should I need to. Nate didn’t try to disband the scowl on his face, but then why should any of us have tried to de-escalate things when they’d likely come up to kick us out for good?
Nobody spoke until the procession halted a few feet away from us. Wilkes himself stepped forward to extend an envelope to me. “I was told to hand this over to you next time you stopped here,” he said, the flatness of his tone making me guess that whoever had given him that task hadn’t exactly asked for his cooperation. As soon as my fingers closed around the manila paper, he stepped back, but his group lingered.
Trepidation made my throat close down as I remembered all too well the last time someone had left a message for me. That had ended with most of our people either dying or getting hurt badly enough to take them out for the rest of the year. I really didn’t want to open it, but with everyone’s attention on me, it would have been weirder not to. Shoving the paper bag containing the antibiotics at Nate, I snatched up his knife to slice the envelope open. Inside was a simple white piece of paper, with nothing but an address printed on it. A Canadian address, no less.
Well, that was anticlimactic.
Or so I thought, until I caught the look on Nate’s face as he read over my shoulder. It was something between utter disbelief and—much more comforting—abject horror.
“You know what this is?” I asked, mostly to break the silence.
Rather than answer me, Nate turned to Wilkes, hard-pressed to wipe any emotion off his face. “Who gave this to you?”
“When” was the far more important question. After the warm welcome we’d received, I wouldn’t have put it beyond Wilkes not to reply, but he did, if with the same kind of barely concealed anger that he’d shown upon our arrival.
“One of the soldiers who later left with Stanton. He didn’t explain himself, only gave me this message for you.” He paused, and for a second I thought that armor of his would crack and show us a glimpse of the reasonable commander I knew must be lurking underneath, but that didn’t happen. “I expect you will be leaving now?”
I could tell that Nate wanted to wring his neck for more information, but left it at a curt nod. “Within the hour.”
Wilkes took that with a nod, and he and his entourage marched off once more. Dom wanted to s
tay but at Blake’s bark fell in line, leaving with a quizzical look on his face. The entire situation was so beyond bizarre that it took Burns lightly bumping into my shoulder for me to focus back on the important stuff.
“So what’s up with this?” I asked him more than Nate, who still seemed at war with himself what to make of this.
Burns read the address himself but lacked most of the trepidation that was coming off my husband in waves. “We’ve all heard of this, no shit. But I never thought it actually existed.”
“What exactly is there, up in…” I glanced down at the paper. “Esterhazy… Sounds vaguely European.”
Burns shrugged. “Headquarters of the serum project, if you believe the myths.”
His doubtful tone wasn’t the only thing that ticked me off. “Why would USAMRIID have a lab up in Canada? Next you’ll tell me all those CIA torture cells all over the world are real.” Burns opened his mouth, a slight grin spreading over his face, making me grunt. “Please don’t answer that. I might not have much time left but I’d prefer to sleep well at night.” That grin disappeared at my words, and whatever else Burns would have wanted to say, he swallowed it when Nate spoke up.
“First off, the project was never just the Army, or USAMRIID at all. That’s just how they openly played the recruitment.”
“You mean, openly, under cover,” I offered, not sure why I had to joke now of all times.
Nate, as usual, didn’t appreciate my attempt at levity, but ignored it rather than reprimanded me—always a bad sign. “That’s not the point. Remember when I told you how they treated us like boogeymen after we survived the inoculation with the serum? You always need a bigger, badder evil to keep the boogeyman in check—and that was this very lab.”
“If it really exists,” Burns intercepted.
My brows rose up. “You still doubt it?”
Green Fields (Book 7): Affliction Page 22
