The Cure

by JG Faherty

  Healing the dog was like getting back to her roots, her true self, and she understood that she’d been missing it.

  The dog gave a yelp and backed away from her, its eyes already alert and bright, its fur filled with color and life. The green glow was gone.

  At the same time, a vague feeling of nausea settled in Leah’s stomach. Nothing major, not yet; she knew from past experience she had an hour or more before her symptoms became life threatening. But unlike when she was at work, here there was no reason to wait and pretend nothing was wrong.

  Speaking like a teacher demonstrating a procedure to a class, she explained the next steps in the process to Green as she carried them out.

  “The dog is Cured,” she said. “Right now I’m carrying the disease inside me. If I were to wait too long, it would kill me the same as it would have killed the dog. Which is why I pass it on to another animal as soon as I can.”

  She motioned at the cage containing the monkey.

  “You should inject him now and then step away. I wouldn’t want you to be touching it at the same time I do.”

  The implication of her words caused Green’s face to go a little pale. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, although Leah wasn’t sure if he was afraid of her or the monkey. As he reached between the bars, she wondered if he had any experience with injections. She’d never thought to ask. However, he expertly pinched a section of skin between his fingers and injected the contents of the syringe.

  The rhesus, already on its deathbed, barely flinched.

  “You’ve got about sixty seconds,” Green said, backing up.

  Leah didn’t respond. She grasped the monkey’s paw and felt the muted shock of transference. The monkey jerked once and then turned its rheumy gaze towards her, as if to ask why she was inflicting further torture on it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, stroking its palm.

  The monkey closed its eyes and let out a final breath.

  Leah wiped tears from her eyes, wishing she didn’t always cry when she had to sacrifice an animal. The soldiers watching her would no doubt take it as a sign of weakness, something to exploit. She walked away from the cart and sat down, pausing to rub the dog’s ears as she went by.

  “That’s it?” Green asked from his position by the door.

  “What did you expect?” Leah felt bitter inside and it flavored her words. “Lightning? Storm clouds? The trumpeting of angels? I thought you did your homework. That stuff only happens when I feel threatened, not when I’m Curing something.”

  Green wisely didn’t answer. Instead, he made another call, requesting someone to take the two animals to the lab immediately.

  Alarmed, Leah stood up. “You’re not going to sacrifice that dog I Cured, are you? Because if you do, my cooperation is over.”

  “No, we’re not.” Something in Green’s voice told her he was telling the truth, at least for now. “Blood tests, that’s all.”

  A masked tech arrived and the door whooshed open, reminding Leah there must still be at least some soporific in the air.

  Have I grown used to it? Am I tired and I don’t even realize it?

  Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Green exiting the cell with the technician until the door was almost closed.

  “Wait!” She motioned with her hands. “When do I get to see John?”

  Holding the door open with his foot, Green shrugged. “That depends on you. We have to run this same experiment again, except this time with some diagnostics hooked up to you. Can you, you know, do it again today or do we have to wait until tomorrow?”

  Curing more than one animal in a day wasn’t any hardship; she’d Cured as many as four in one day. But she wasn’t about to let them know that.

  “I can do one more,” Leah told him, putting a note of exhaustion in her voice. “But that’s all.”

  Green nodded.

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Chapter Four

  That evening, after a quick cheeseburger and fries in the officers’ mess, Green joined General Moore and the intelligence agent he mentally referred to as Spooky in the General’s conference room. Moore and Spooky were already poring over the diagnostic reports from the two experiments.

  “I thought the meeting started at six,” Green said, opening his own file.

  Moore glanced up at him, his expression hard.

  “Gotta be ahead of the pack if you want to win the race, Captain.”

  “Have you reviewed the reports, Captain?” Spooky asked, never taking his eyes off the data tables he was reading.

  “Yes, earlier. Nothing really exceptional, from what I could see. Blood pressure, pulse, oxygen levels, all almost identical before and after she cured the rabbit. Same with her blood panels and EEG.”

  “And you don’t find that exceptional?” Spooky’s dark eyes narrowed and he looked back and forth between Green and Moore. “The woman somehow transferred a carcinoma from the test animal into herself and then passed it on to another animal, all without her brain waves, blood chemistry or even heart rate changing, and you don’t consider that exceptional?”

  “There is one change, right here.” Green pointed to a blip on the EKG. “Right at the point where the cancer was in her. A slight increase in heart rate and blood pressure. But it goes back to normal before she passes the cancer on.”

  Spooky nodded. “The time corresponds to when she told us she gets that nauseated feeling, after she’s taken in the disease. Fluctuations that small could result from feeling ill, stress, worry, any sort of emotional change. Then her body adjusts. No different than if you or I stubbed a toe or got a piece of disturbing email. Statistically insignificant.”

  Moore frowned. “So on the one hand you say we should consider her results exceptional, but on the other you say the deviations are insignificant. You’re not making any sense.”

  Spooky turned to Green, obviously ignoring Moore’s comment.

  “Captain Green. Your background includes several years in bioterrorism, does it not?”

  Green said nothing. The question wasn’t one that needed answering because Spooky had undoubtedly read his file, knew of his research experience with various biological and chemical agents of destruction. It was one of the reasons he’d been chosen as DeGarmo’s prime handler.

  “Tell me,” Spooky continued, “in your professional opinion, what do these results mean?”

  Green glanced down at the reports again, aware of the two men waiting for his answer. What had he missed that Spooky had obviously seen? He read through the data again. And again.

  Totally normal.

  No physical deviations of any kind.

  No physical…

  No, it couldn’t be.

  A chill ran down Green’s back, amplified by the cool breeze from the air conditioner on his suddenly damp neck.

  “No physical reaction means that most likely there’s no physical cause.” Even saying it in general terms sounded like madness.

  Spooky, however, seemed positively thrilled with his answer.

  “Exactly! Cause and effect, except in this case we’re seeing the effect and trying to determine the cause, instead of the other way around.”

  “Will someone please explain what the hell the point of this is?”

  Green clenched his jaw so he wouldn’t smile at General Moore’s obvious frustration. The man’s face was taking on a reddish hue that made his scars stand out more than usual. Spooky—apparently secure in his higher status on the ladder of rank—actually let out a chuckle. Green hurried to answer before the General’s head exploded.

  “What it means, sir, is that whatever energy DeGarmo is using to do what she does, it doesn’t come from within her. Rather than being natural, it’s…supernatural.”

  “Bullshit!” Moore slammed his hand on the table. “Just because you hav
en’t found an explanation doesn’t mean there isn’t one. You just need to look harder. Cut her brain open if you have to.”

  “I’d rather it not come to such a…permanent choice,” Spooky said. “At least not until we’ve exhausted all other options. But I have to agree with the Captain. In the absence of a natural cause, we must consider the supernatural.”

  The agent held up his hand before Moore could object again.

  “I’m not talking about ghosts or demons, General. Although the physical changes she displays could support such a hypothesis, for sure. I’m speaking of the paranormal. Abilities beyond the norm. You’re familiar with the experiments the military—both ours and other governments’—have done in the areas of far seeing, mind reading and telekinesis?”

  “More bullshit,” Moore said. “Waste of time and money.”

  Spooky’s left eyebrow rose and his smile grew cooler, as if he was remembering something unpleasant.

  “You might not say that if you’d read some of the same reports I have. But that’s neither here nor there. The fact is, there have been people who’ve shown limited psychic abilities and, like Ms. DeGarmo, nothing unusual registered in their clinical data while they were doing so.”

  Watching the man’s face, Green wondered what he’d read. And hoped he never had to find out for himself.

  “Sir, excuse me, but if I’m interpreting you correctly, what you’re saying is that it’s possible she’s harnessing some sort of internal or external energy, and we just can’t measure it yet?”

  “Yes. For now, it falls in the realm of supernatural because we can’t quantify or qualify it. That may change with our next experiment.”

  Green glanced down at the reports.

  “I don’t see anything here—”

  “It isn’t in there,” Moore said, his gruff, assured tone back as he stepped into the familiar role of leadership. “We decided on it just before you arrived. Tomorrow you’re going to have DeGarmo demonstrate her other talent.”

  Green’s heart sped up so fast it almost hurt.

  “You want me to have her kill someone?”

  “Not yet,” Spooky said, his meaning obvious. Sooner or later they were going to have her kill someone. “This time it will just be a something.”

  The very thought of being near her when she changed into her alternate self made Green want to run for the nearest exit and never return. She’d nearly killed him once already, and she’d been wasted to near unconsciousness at the time.

  What would she do—what could she do—if clearheaded?

  Hoping to get them to reconsider, without appearing like a coward for suggesting it, Green shook his head.

  “You heard what she said today. She only goes into that mode when she feels threatened.”

  Moore shrugged.

  “So threaten her. But get her to change.”

  “I feel like a lab rat.”

  Leah and John were lying together on her cot, his one arm draped over her. Shortly before the evening meal was served, two guards had escorted John to her cell and locked him in with her. After a frantic greeting of hugs and kisses, they’d sat down and she’d told him everything that had happened since the previous night.

  “At least you don’t look like one anymore.” John brushed his fingers across one arm, sending delightful shivers across her flesh, despite the fact she knew he was only indicating the places where an array of needle marks and bruises were almost completely faded away.

  “Self-healing, it’s a wonderful thing.”

  Leah felt guilty about not having yet told John the whole truth about where the energy for her healing—and presumably killing—Powers came from, but under the present circumstances it was impossible. Odds were, someone was watching and listening at all times, so sharing secrets would have to wait.

  In the meantime, lying in John’s embrace not only felt good, it was probably also recharging her. That brought on more than a few twinges of shame as well; she was using him, in a way. But tempering them was the knowledge that her body obviously never took anywhere near enough energy to actually harm someone. She was more like a sock or balloon getting dragged across a carpet, gathering tiny bits of electricity as she went. A little here, a little there. A hug here, a handshake there, a pet to a dog’s head.

  Over time, though, the bits added up.

  After a few more minutes of silence, Leah spoke again.

  “I’m scared of what they’ll ask me to do next.”

  She’d already told him about Curing the dog, and then the rabbit. Passing the diseases to the two monkeys had been hard, but John had agreed she’d been doing them a favor just by ending their wretched lives as test subjects. She’d also told him about the blood tests, EKGs, brainwave monitoring and even a urine test, which had been especially humiliating.

  “What? Like a CT scan? Or a human subject?” John’s voice grew agitated. “I hope they don’t think they can make you handle criminals.”

  “I’m thinking worse.” It had been on her mind all day, and now, lying in the darkened room with nothing but John’s body to distract her thoughts, it was on her mind again. “They’ve seen me Cure animals twice. But I don’t think that’s what they’re really interested in. That was just to see if I’ll do what they say. I think they want me to…you know…”

  John’s arm tensed and then relaxed.

  “Become the other you and kill something.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re afraid you won’t be able to do it.”

  “No.” She turned around so she was facing him, their noses only inches apart, close enough that she could smell the coffee and mustard on his breath from dinner. “I’m afraid that if I do it, the power will go to my head, make me overconfident, and I’ll try something I shouldn’t. And then they’ll either kill you or me or both of us.”

  Staring into his eyes, Leah wondered how a conglomeration of colored cells could express so much emotion, even when you couldn’t see the rest of the face. John’s eyes, so dark they almost disappeared in the dim light, seemed to soften and grow warmer, like two pieces of chocolate sitting in the sun. She could feel his compassion radiating from them.

  “Sometimes you just have to trust yourself. I don’t know much about these powers you have, but I get the feeling they’re a lot like you: stronger than you think.”

  Leah wasn’t sure what to make of John’s statement. It sounded like a compliment, but a cryptic one. Was he telling her to go for it, let her Power loose? Or that he trusted her to keep it under control?

  She kissed him, long and hard, and then rolled back over so they could spoon again. She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that while looking at him.

  Long after John drifted into sleep, she was still awake.

  Chapter Five

  Leah wiped sweaty palms on her pants. She’d lost count of how many times she’d repeated the gesture since Green and two soldiers had come to take John back to his cell and remove their breakfast trays. After they left, a technician had arrived and stuck an assortment of wires to her forehead, chest and arms. The leads all disappeared into a black box that hung from a canvas belt at her waist. Two other technicians set up digital recorders on tripods outside the clear walls of the cell.

  Since then, she’d been waiting almost fifteen minutes for Green or someone to return, and her anxiety was getting so bad she’d started pacing just to burn off some of her nervous energy.

  Something was going to happen. She could feel it like a change in the air before a thunderstorm. Even though she couldn’t see any people, a sense of expectancy charged the atmosphere.

  Something is going to happen.

  She just hoped it didn’t involve her or John dying.

  Almost a half hour after Green left, he finally returned, this time with four guards who held large, odd-looking pistols. Behind his m
ask, Green’s forehead was beaded with sweat and his pupils dilated.

  He looks more nervous than I feel.

  It’s going to be something big, that’s for sure.

  “Please take a seat on your bed.” Green’s words came out faster than normal, another sign of his agitation.

  He waited until she sat down before continuing, “We’re going to bring in another test animal. We need you to—”

  “I know what you want. You want me to kill it, like I did those men at the slaughterhouse. I told you, though, it’s not something I can just turn on like when I Cure an animal.”

  Green smiled, but it was an unappealing smile, knowing and gloomy, all at the same time.

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.” He turned and left, two of the guards accompanying him. The other two took up positions outside the door, their backs to her.

  Leah leaned back against the wall, hoping she didn’t have long to wait this time. It turned out she didn’t; only a couple of minutes passed before two masked technicians appeared, rolling yet another metal cage on a cart.

  This one contained a medium-sized Labrador retriever.

  Leah felt the anger rising inside her. They wanted her to kill a dog? Just thinking about it made her furious. And when the cage was wheeled into her cell and she saw the poor Chocolate lab trembling, her jaw tightened and her fists clenched in her lap.

  No way. I am not doing this!

  The technicians quickly exited the cell and shut the door. Only after they left did a maskless Green come down the hall.

  This time he didn’t enter the cell.

  “Anytime you’re ready,” he said. He hadn’t pressed any kind of button outside the door, so she figured there was some kind of speaker system that he’d activated before showing up.

  “No. I won’t kill a helpless animal for you. Not like that.”

  “I told them you’d say that.” Green tapped a Bluetooth earpiece and spoke, “Bring him.”

  A cold mass formed in Leah’s belly. There was only one thing he could mean.

  Two guards came down the hall guiding a handcuffed John between them. They stopped a few paces away from Green and one of the guards jammed a gun into John’s ribs.