Reviver: A Novel

by Seth Patrick

  ‘It didn’t whisper, Victor. It spoke. It spoke to me through Alice.’

  Eldridge closed his eyes, shaking his head. ‘Dear God. Does that mean it’s closer now?’ He opened his eyes and met Jonah’s. ‘God help us if they succeed. Whatever Andreas wants to bring into our world, there’s no one to stop him anymore.’

  * * *

  They drove in silence in Never’s car. Twenty minutes of putting distance between themselves and the hospice, before Never finally spoke.

  ‘You believe him?’

  ‘Yes. I saw it too, Never. I saw what was out there. And everyone told me it was in my mind.’

  ‘What the hell can he even mean, Jonah? What can be out there?’

  ‘I don’t know. Problem is, what do we do? Who the hell do we try and convince?’

  They were silent for a minute before Never spoke again. ‘Hang on. You heard what Eldridge said. Andreas needed a replacement reviver. Maybe Hannerman had discovered who it was. And Hannerman attacked Jason Shepperton.’

  ‘Eager to get out of the hospital. Getting ready for a long holiday. You think he’s taking Andreas’s money?’

  ‘Not after we talk to him.’

  Jonah took out his phone and dialled Annabel’s cell number.

  ‘Jonah,’ she said, sounding surprised but pleased.

  ‘We found something, Annabel. I saw Eldridge again. He told me what Unity is. Andreas is behind it. Where are you?’

  ‘At home.’

  ‘Me and Never are on our way there. They needed to hire a reviver. We know who they got.’

  * * *

  It was close to midnight when they arrived at Annabel’s. Her Porsche was in the drive, the garage doors closed, outside light off.

  ‘Nice car,’ Never said, hanging around the Porsche.

  ‘Come in when you finish drooling,’ said Jonah, going on ahead to Annabel’s door. It was open, just a crack. He put his hand on it, a warning sounding in his head.

  ‘Annabel?’ He pushed the door open and stepped into the unlit hallway. The closed door to the living room was on his left, light coming through the gap at its base. He opened it. ‘Annab—’

  There was barely enough time to register Annabel, wide-eyed and gagged, sitting in her father’s favourite chair with her hands bound. On either side of her were two huge men, dark jackets and black jeans, sunglasses and stony faces. Annabel jerked her head and he was suddenly aware of movement behind him. He was grabbed as he turned, but outside he could see Never, still by the Porsche as he saw what had happened and froze.

  ‘Jonah! What the—’

  The man holding Jonah called to the others, ‘There’s another one outside. Get him.’

  Jonah yelled, ‘Run, Never!’

  As Never started to move, the man to Annabel’s right strode past Jonah to the front door, reaching in to his pocket. Jonah saw the weapon and swore.

  In one smooth movement, the man’s arm came up to aim at Never.

  And then, without warning, he fired.

  30

  They were searched – hurried and rough, their phones taken – then bundled into the windowless rear of a black unmarked van.

  ‘We’re not going to hurt you,’ they were told as the van doors slid shut. Jonah was unconvinced.

  They drove for hours. Jonah brought Annabel up to speed on exactly what had happened with Eldridge. Their requests for a break were shouted down from the front. There was a dim light above them, and Never’s complaints were growing louder by the minute. Being hit by a Taser was bad enough, but it had made him empty his bladder. Every time he moved, he squelched.

  ‘I can’t believe they fucking shot me,’ he said, trying to rub the impact site of the Taser, low on his back. ‘I didn’t realize how much those things hurt.’

  ‘Not as much as a bullet,’ said Annabel.

  ‘I can’t believe I pissed myself,’ he said, sounding defeated and scared. ‘I can’t believe we’re even here at all. What are they going to do with us?’

  ‘Depends who they are,’ said Annabel. ‘Maybe they’re going to warn us off and let us go.’ Jonah looked at her, then away. She didn’t really believe it would be that easy, he thought. She’d said it for Never’s sake. He figured they were either from Andreas or from Kendrick. Whichever it was, engineering an accident would have been the simple way to get rid of them; they wanted to talk, at least, and find out what they knew. He hoped that was all.

  ‘Jonah,’ Annabel said. ‘What do you honestly believe? Do you think Eldridge isn’t crazy?’

  ‘He’s crazy, all right. But not wrong. Since Alice Decker I’ve been trying to convince myself it was all in my head, but Eldridge can’t have been far off the mark. He said reviving a living subject was like opening a door. How can we possibly know what’s out there?’

  When they finally stopped, they had to wait for a long time before the van door was opened. They were in a large basement garage. Six security guards hustled them through a door and a tangle of corridors before leaving them in a small office, which seemed to be a general dumping ground for unused furniture. Along the far wall were three desks, each with a second desk inverted on top, half a dozen office chairs in front. To their left were five empty bookshelves. A clock on the wall showed just shy of six in the morning. Two sides of the office had large windows, the blinds on them closed. Jonah opened one set up, just as one of the guards appeared on the other side and held what looked like a large piece of cardboard over it. Another guard ripped tape off a roll in his hand and fixed the cardboard in place.

  Jonah closed the blind again, the sound of ripping tape continuing as the rest of the windows were sealed. Only the small window in the office door was left uncovered, presumably to make it easier for the guards outside to check on them.

  ‘Hasty measures,’ said Annabel. ‘They did this on short notice.’ She looked at Jonah, and he thought he knew what was on her mind. They’d been grabbed by people unprepared for it. Just as her father had been.

  ‘Do you know where we might be?’ he asked her.

  Annabel walked to the desks and began to methodically open drawers. At last, she found a single crumpled Post-it. She unfolded it and looked, then held it up. It was printed with a company name and a logo that seemed like a stylized DNA double helix.

  ‘Reese-Farthing Medical. One of Andreas’s companies. A biotech firm that deals with virus and gene therapy work. That puts us a little outside Pittsburgh. For what it’s worth.’

  Ten minutes later the office door opened again. Two of the men who’d been at Annabel’s entered and took position on either side of the door. Then Jonah’s mouth fell open as Will Barlow walked in.

  ‘Shit,’ Jonah said.

  ‘Now, Jonah . . I didn’t expect a cheer, but things like that can hurt a guy’s feelings.’ Barlow’s smile looked about as genuine as it always did.

  ‘You know him?’ Never asked.

  ‘We go way back. This is Will Barlow.’

  Then Michael Andreas entered as well. He was wearing a cap with the Andreas Biotech logo; Jonah could see that part of his scalp had been shaved. The cap covered most of it, the white edge of surgical dressing just visible near his left temple.

  ‘Mr Andreas,’ Jonah said, deadpan. ‘How’s the health?’

  ‘It’s excellent, Jonah,’ Andreas said. ‘I admit I overstated my condition, but it’s good of you to ask.’ He was wearing the impossibly sincere smile he’d had on his face when Jonah and Annabel had last seen him. ‘My apologies to you all. Jonah, Annabel. And especially to you, Mr Geary.’ He looked Never up and down. ‘The rough-housing was uncalled for.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ said Never. He scowled. Like his grin, it took up most of his face. ‘Any chance of a change of fucking trousers? It seems I pissed myself when your apes electrocuted me.’ He glared at the apes, but they didn’t twitch.

  Andreas’s smile didn’t waver. He looked at Will Barlow. ‘Will? Please, arrange for Mr Geary to shower and organize a change of clothing
.’ Barlow acknowledged the request and left.

  ‘What is this, Michael?’ Annabel asked.

  ‘Please, believe me, Annabel. We’re not going to hurt you.’ He turned to the guards. ‘Wait outside,’ he said. The guards went without a word. Andreas closed the door and took a seat, indicating for Annabel to join him. She did; Jonah and Never both remained standing. ‘We’ve been taking an interest in your activities. I’m afraid that’s included tapping your phone, but it’s lucky for us we did. The moment it became clear that you were too close to our interests, I decided it was time to intervene. Our plans have been delayed for too long already. We couldn’t risk more disruptions, and we didn’t know how much you knew. It was safer to have you here, as my guests. You’ll be allowed to leave when we’re finished.’

  ‘I don’t think you quite get the meaning of guest,’ Annabel sniped.

  Andreas was unfazed. ‘When you came to see me before, you already knew so much that I decided to throw you a bone and hope it would keep you occupied. The bone I threw you may only have been part of the truth, but it was true. Did you speak to Sam Deering, Annabel?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘I surmise he told you what our authorities have done in the national interest?’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘Torturing the dead. An inquisition of souls. In your phone conversation, Jonah, you said you spoke with Victor Eldridge, that he told you what Unity is, and that I was behind it. I knew of Eldridge, knew that he had spoken for years about other things being out there, whispering to him. When his psychiatric problems first began, he’d contacted staff in MLA Research to admit to misusing the BPV variant you asked me about. Indeed, Andreas Biotech paid for his care for a time, although he abruptly stopped accepting our generosity a few years ago. I had no idea he knew anything about Unity, but believe me, whatever he told you was wrong. So, you tell me what you do know, and I’ll tell you the rest.’

  Jonah laughed. ‘Why the hell would you tell us?’

  ‘Because you can’t stop this. We’ll keep you here until we’re finished, and then we’ll be gone. I would have preferred not to have involved you so directly, but now that our hand has been forced your presence seems fitting. I came to the conclusion that I’d rather you know the truth, not a Halloween camp-fire tale. Your father died tragically, Annabel, and you deserve some answers, at least. And Jonah … You may not realize it, but without you none of this would have been possible.’

  Jonah stepped aggressively towards him. ‘Then I’ll tell you what I know. I know that your people were working on live revivals. I know they used me to make it work, but there’s something else out there, something that could use the live subject as a host. I know you plan to bring something ancient back and make it stay.’ He moved forward and leaned until he was inches from Andreas, his voice a harsh whisper. ‘And I’ve seen this thing. I felt it, felt the evil of it, just like Eldridge did. I don’t know why you want to do this, but I will do anything I can to stop you.’

  Andreas nodded. ‘I heard about your experiences, Jonah. Your hallucination, your suspension from revival duties, and—’

  ‘You heard? You seem to know a hell of a lot.’

  ‘You confronted me in my own office, Jonah. Interrogated me. Of course I was going to make inquiries.’

  ‘Did you know about Hannerman?’ said Annabel. ‘Did you know before they took my father?’

  Andreas frowned. ‘For God’s sake, Annabel, what do you think we are? We didn’t know about Hannerman until your father was found. We realized the kidnapping was connected to us, garbled and inaccurate as Hannerman’s information must have been. We changed our plans. We relocated here and delayed until the threat passed.’

  ‘But your plans are either crazy or dangerous,’ said Annabel. ‘Can’t you see that?’

  ‘There’s little I can say to convince you. But I want to try and show you that we are not the fools you believe us to be. And that we are not crazy.’ Annabel watched him with impassive eyes.

  Jonah scowled. ‘Andreas, what I felt was something to be feared…’

  ‘Your experience was overwork.’

  ‘Please. Don’t do this.’

  ‘The world won’t end, Jonah. This isn’t Armageddon.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘What we encountered was more than intelligent, Jonah. It was wise. Unity is a beautiful thing.’

  ‘Unity,’ Jonah said with a sneer.

  ‘The term we use both for the process and for our group. Permanent unity with these beings. We’ve been working towards that goal for seven years.’

  ‘What you’re talking about amounts to demonic possession.’

  ‘Oh, please, Jonah. Don’t be childish. Not demons. Not some great threat. As I said, this isn’t Armageddon.’

  ‘How do you know?’ pleaded Jonah. ‘How do you know, the moment you succeed, these creatures won’t show their true nature?’

  Andreas’s smile softened. ‘Because we’ve already done it.’

  Jonah paused. He turned to look at his friends, their eyes wide. He turned back, his voice shaky. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We’ve done it before. The first successful Unity was sixteen months ago.’ He allowed himself a gentle laugh. ‘No monsters.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ said Jonah. Fear crept over him, hot and alive.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to meet the first?’

  Jonah’s eyes widened.

  Andreas shook his head. ‘There’s no need to be afraid, Jonah. No need at all. You’ve met her before.’

  And at that, Jonah felt sick, felt faint, even before Andreas opened the door, even before she came into the room. The moment Andreas said ‘her’, he knew who it would be.

  ‘Hello, Jonah,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Tess,’ he replied.

  31

  Jonah stared at her.

  ‘Who the hell is she?’ Annabel whispered to Never.

  ‘Tess Neil,’ said Never. ‘Kind of, uh, Jonah’s ex. Recent ex.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Annabel, going quiet.

  Jonah was still staring. He took a deep breath. The moment he’d seen Tess, he’d felt a dizzying panic. Its after-effects still left him edgy. So many questions were churning in his mind, but there was one he needed to know first. ‘What are you going to do with us?’

  She looked at him with genuine surprise, hurt by the implication. ‘You’re safe, Jonah. We’re going to keep you here until we’re done, and then you’ll hear no more from us. We’ll let you go. Two days at most. I’m sorry you had to go through this, and I’m sorry Never got hurt.’

  ‘Maybe you didn’t hear about Sam. He nearly died, Tess. He still might.’

  ‘I heard.’

  They locked eyes, and Tess was the first to look away. He could see real pain, real regret. She was sorry, but he was so angry he wanted to scream at her.

  Michael Andreas spoke: ‘Soon after Will Barlow and John Gideon broke away from Kendrick, they came to me. Their story was astonishing, and hard to believe. They said that they’d found some lost souls, trapped and needing help. Lost for so long they’d even forgotten their own names. They told me these beings had answers. They showed me what they’d encountered, and I felt honoured. Privileged to be one of the few to see this and be in a position to help. It’s not easy. An ordinary revival couldn’t possibly bring these beings through. The process needs a living subject to be cooled, their heart stopped, to—’

  ‘I know what the process is.’ Jonah could picture Tess, hooked up like Lyssa Underwood with artificial blood pumping through her.

  ‘Of course. When those who experienced it came to, they would feel the presence of these beings within them, now part of them. Memories came, vague and confused, with impossible images. We hoped, given enough time, that we could help them find out who they were. And we knew how important a discovery that would be.’

  ‘So what are they, Andreas?’ asked Annabel.

  Andreas smiled. ‘An ancient race.
Older than humanity. Much older. We spoke many times to the being you first brought forth in Lyssa Underwood. It was disorientated, confused, but it spoke again and again of a great cataclysm. Their own world was destroyed. It spoke of knowledge preserved, of warnings for those who would listen. Of the Thirteen, chosen from the last of their kind, who volunteered for a sacred duty. The rest we learned is open to interpretation, but I’ll tell you what I believe. They preserved all that they know from destruction in a living vault. The Thirteen were charged with passing on their knowledge, and we will be the first to hear it.’

  ‘Always an angle, Andreas,’ she said, and Andreas looked angry.

  ‘Don’t mock, Annabel. This is not for me. This is for us all. We’ve spent years trying to understand how to help these beings remember what they are. They have been alone, trapped in the darkness, for an unknowable time. Hundreds of thousands of years, millions. Perhaps much longer. They’ve forgotten everything they once were. Try to imagine, the long silence they’ve endured. It was Will who realized that we could bring them out of the dark. After each revival, the beings would still be present in the minds of the woken revival subject, but the effect always faded. It would last for a few hours, no longer. Yet when we spoke to the beings again, they had memories of that time also. It had been a true joining, a true Unity. It wasn’t a simple remnant effect. They were part of us, for those brief hours.

  ‘The pieces fell into place one by one. The BPV variant we spoke of was crucial. It focused the effect considerably, and without it we would have progressed no further.

  ‘We were able to slow down the degradation of the effect, and make it last days rather than hours, but it wasn’t enough. We hunted for a more permanent solution, using imaging, live scans of the brains of our subjects. After identifying areas of the brain that contributed to the degradation, we speculated that small lesions could be created in a handful of sites, and brought in a neurosurgeon to—’

  ‘A neurosurgeon?’ said Jonah. The word jumped out at him. He thought of the scar he’d seen in Tess’s hair that night, and her explanation. Surgery. A minor tumour. Benign. She’d been unwilling to say more, and he’d respected that, assuming it was difficult for her to talk about. But no: it had been difficult for her to lie about. Suddenly he understood the operation Andreas himself had gone through, the shaved area on his head. Jonah felt shaky. ‘Christ, Tess. You let them hack at your fucking brain?’