Rox cringed and tried to squirm away as he advanced on her, but he got a foot across her neck, holding her down like she was some sort of animal as he stuck the needle in her upper arm and depressed the plunger.
The injection was a cool burn followed by a faint tingle that dissipated within seconds, but Rox’s heart shuddered in her chest at the knowledge of what would come next: fever and malaise, then the reddish eyes and body sweats. Then death.
The antidote was designed to cure humans who had eaten the contaminated fish or proteins extracted from those fish, not the nutrient itself. They had no idea if it would work on the actual toxin.
She was going to die.
Hopeless, helpless tears filmed her vision as the masked man straightened away from her and tossed the syringe carelessly aside. Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Don’t worry, you won’t be alone for long. Your boyfriend and his buddies, the cops and a good chunk of the town are trapped in this building with you. I’m going to send my little army in after them, and once they’re all inside, wham!” He clapped his hands together, making her flinch. “I’ll seal the place and pump it full of a special gas I’ve been working on. Everyone will just fall asleep, and bye-bye.” He paused, his voice going reflective. “Then…I’ll simply disappear. Even with you gone, there are too many people on the outside who’ll be looking for me and trying to steal my greatest invention. I need time to work on it, to perfect it.”
The world grayed out for a moment as he gave her a fond-seeming pat, as though she were a lab rat. A test subject.
Then he strode away, the tails of his white coat swinging as he walked, looking for all the world like a hotshot doctor striding along the hospital corridors.
At the thought of her own hotshot doctor, Rox’s tears broke free and tracked down her cheeks. She hated that their last words had been in anger, hated even more that he’d struck a chord in their fight.
He’d accused her of not being willing to compromise, either, and he’d had a point. She hadn’t offered a solution, had only shot down his suggestion, not because she didn’t want to be with him, but because she wanted it to be on her terms for a change. So much of their time together had been spent doing what he loved, wasn’t it fair that she got to do the same?
Perhaps, but she’d needed to say that to him. And maybe she’d needed to give a little, too. There had to be a compromise where they both gave up something, both gained something. But instead of figuring out where that middle ground might lie, she’d jumped down his throat and they’d fallen right back into old, pointless patterns.
Now it was too late to go back and try again.
Her tears dripped down her chin and landed on the stone floor beneath her as she cried for herself, for Luke. For the hints of perfection they’d both been too stubborn to make a life out of, and the fact that they wouldn’t get another chance to try.
And that, she realized with a start, was giving up. Which was the same thing as running away. How could she expect Luke to fight for her if she wasn’t willing to do the same?
She might be dying, but she would damn well make her last few minutes on earth count.
So, as the sweat of a fever broke out across her body in the first stage of the toxin’s effects, she worked her mouth beneath the adhesive until the tape came loose, and she was able to push it off with her shoulder.
Afraid to shout for help because she could hear the tramp of dragging footsteps and the screams that suggested the Violents were already loose within the monastery, she rolled over, squirming, making her joints howl in protest as she angled her bound hands around to the front of her body.
Then she went to work on the knots, tugging with her teeth, refusing to give up until the last moment, when her heart stopped beating and it was truly over.
HEARING ONE OF the Violents drag-stepping along the narrow secret passageway toward him, Luke beat a hasty retreat to the last corner he’d rounded, where a waist-high, unlit offshoot passage gave him a hiding place.
Just in time, too. He’d barely ducked in and scrambled back, out of the light, when the Violent shuffled past.
Luke was just edging out into the main tunnel when he heard a low-voiced conversation and froze.
“I left those four guards in the antechamber below the main doors,” a man’s voice said, sounding well-modulated and clear. “Once you and the others have secured the people on the main level, bring the cops up to join them. I want everyone in one place for the gas.”
“Yesssh,” a second man said in the slurred voice of an end-stage Violent, followed by the sound of the two men moving off in different directions.
Gas, Luke thought with dawning horror. He froze, jammed between what he knew he should do, and what his heart was telling him to do. He should double back and return to the main floor, and try to free Swanson and the other cops to help him search the secret passageways, find the mad scientist and neutralize him and the Violents before the gas attack began.
But the insistent pound in his blood told him to find Roxie first, a gut-level conviction that she needed him right away. She’s my top priority, he thought, and the realization gave him pause.
He’d never told her that before. He probably hadn’t shown her enough, either, which was why she’d constantly accused him of putting his job first, of choosing his career over her.
But he could control the job to a point, he realized. He couldn’t control her, or his feelings for her. She made him crazy, made him worry that she’d leave him, that she’d die, that he’d fail her somehow.
And that was it, he knew with sudden, panicked clarity. His insistence on short-term assignments and short-term affairs wasn’t about being afraid to care, afraid to love. It wasn’t even about being afraid to watch someone die, though that was part of it.
He was petrified of failing.
He handed off assignments that looked unsolvable, bailed on relationships that got too complicated, avoided May when her case started looking hopeless. He wasn’t a success because he was a top-notch doctor. He was a success because he only fought battles he thought he could win.
Well, that stopped now. He didn’t intend to fail Roxie, but he wasn’t going to win by walking away this time. He was damn well going to find her, and he was going to do his best to save her. Maybe he’d fail, but at least he would’ve tried.
Cursing, he darted back into the main passageway and started running in the direction he thought the scientist had come from, calling her name in a whisper. “Roxie? Rox, can you hear me?”
His heart thudded against his ribs and banged in his ears, nearly drowning out her answer when it came.
“Luke!”
He bolted toward the sound of her voice, relief pouring through him when he saw her up ahead, lying prone and bound, but moving. Alive.
He dropped to his knees beside her and started yanking at her bonds. “I’m here, Rox. I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be—” Okay, he was about to say, but broke off when he turned her over.
Her skin was flushed and sallow, her eyes red with more than tears.
Chapter Twelve
“Oh, Roxie.” Luke’s voice went rough on her name.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and clung to him. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Me, too.” He kissed her, and felt her fever as his own.
Grief hammered at him. Panic. Self-recrimination. If only he’d been faster to find the trapdoor at the base of the pillar, or found her sooner once he was in the secret passageways.
“Wait!” He scrabbled in his pocket, came up with the syringes. “I have the last two doses of the antidote.”
She grabbed his wrist before he could pop one of the caps off. “Don’t. He injected me with the toxin itself. The antidote won’t work.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” he said urgently. “We have to try.” Before she could object again, he injected her, hoping against hope that the antidote to DLD would at least slow down the destructive casca
des the nutrient had triggered in her body.
Her breathing grew labored, until it rattled in her lungs. She grabbed at him, eyes going wild. “He’s going to barricade everyone in and fill this place with gas. You have to stop him!”
Luke cursed bitterly. He didn’t have time to be a hero. He needed to help Rox. It stood to reason that at least some of the secret passageways led outside the monastery. If he carried her outside, to fresh air—
She’d still be dying of the nutrient, and the madman would have won by killing the others.
If he stayed with her, he was failing Bug, Thom, May and the residents of Raven’s Cliff. But if he went after the scientist, he’d be failing Rox and the wonderful things they could have together.
“I’m not going to let you down, Roxie,” he said urgently. “I love you. I’m sticking by you.”
Her reddened eyes glowed, not with violence, but with emotion. “I love you, too. But you need to leave.” The glow faded. “I’m sorry, Luke. So sorry.”
She went limp in his arms…but she was still breathing, and her eyes were open.
There was still time for him to help her, Luke thought, mind racing. But how? She was limp and nonresponsive, but her eyes were open…. Exactly, he realized with a jolt, like the earlier patients had done in the later stages of the DLD.
And Bug’s anti-CP 12.21 treatment had altered that status.
“I’m not giving up on you, Rox.” He gathered her in his arms and lifted her, carrying her through the passageways back to the trapdoor through which he’d entered.
He paused below the trapdoor, and listened for footsteps from above. Hearing none, he hoisted himself up a set of inset stone handholds and cracked the door, scanning floor-level for any company in the small room.
Finding the coast clear, he popped the hatch and lifted Rox through, then followed her up. He closed the trapdoor, gathered Rox against his chest and carried her across the room. He still didn’t hear any footsteps, and when he cracked the heavy wooden door and looked out, he found the hallway ominously clear.
The mad scientist had told the Violents to gather everyone in the entryway. It seemed as though the townspeople and patients had already been herded to their destination—leaving the west wing of the monastery deserted.
Moving as silently as possible, Luke ghosted across the hall, to the supply room. He didn’t think he could make it to the field lab in the kitchen wing—not with the Violents and their captives in the entryway. But he and the other doctors had left doses of certain drugs—tranquilizers, anesthetics and the like—in the supply room, in a small case secured with a combination lock.
He closed and locked the door, which would provide a warning if not much protection. The Violents had already proven they could break through the heavy doors if they wanted to. Then he placed Rox on the floor, trying not to panic at her utter stillness and the faint gray cast that was overtaking her skin, indicating that her circulatory system was starting to shut down.
Holding his breath and crossing his fingers that Bug had loaded doses of the anti-CP 12.21 into the lock box, he keyed in the combination and snapped the case open.
The original antidote was there.
Exhaling on a rush of relief, a flare of hope, he snatched up the preloaded syringe and went to his knees beside Rox. It took him a tense minute to get her vein to plump, further sign that her circulation was faltering.
When he finally got a vein, he slid the needle in and backed the plunger to draw the dark red blood into the syringe, confirming that he was in the vein.
Then he held his breath, and injected the anti-CP 12.21 into her bloodstream.
And prayed.
ONE MINUTE Rox was floating, and there was only warmth and numbness around her. In the next, there was roaring pain.
She jolted, her eyes flew open, and she arched, screaming. Seconds later, a big hand clapped over her mouth and Luke was in her face, hissing, “Shh. They can’t hear us! Shh, hush, Rox. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.” He kept repeating the words, over and over, holding her close, rocking her, soothing her.
Being there for her.
Rox bit her lip to keep the cries inside as the pain washed over her, through her, seeming to take over everything. Eventually, though, after what seemed like forever but was probably only a minute or two, the pain faded to discomfort, then to pins and needles. Then it was gone.
“Oh, boy.” Rox exhaled a shaky breath and pressed her face to his chest. “Oh, God. What just happened?” But even as she asked the question, she remembered the tunnels, and the masked man. Luke injecting her with the antidote, and her being sure it wouldn’t work. “I’m alive,” she whispered, shifting to look up at him. “How?”
He smiled slightly, and she saw herself reflected in his eyes. “Teamwork. Bug reverse-engineered his original treatment based on the genetic change caused by the nutrient. I’m betting if we do a few tests, we’ll find the nutrient doesn’t cause mutations in humans, it directly targets other systems. But Bug’s molecule was close enough to the DNA target in the fish that the nutrient glommed right on, neutralizing both of them.” He lifted a shoulder. “It’s a theory, anyway.”
She looked around, realizing they were in the supply room. “You carried me all that way?”
“I would’ve carried you as far as it took,” he said simply, and for the first time in their roller coaster of a relationship, she believed it, believed she could count on him to be there no matter what came between them, whether it be location, careers, fights…or the threat of death.
She didn’t even realize she was crying until he wiped the tears from her cheeks. She gave a watery sniff. “Thanks for the rescue. You’re my hero.”
He shook his head. “You saved me first, by reminding me that being a hotshot and a hero doesn’t matter worth squat unless you have someone to share it with.”
There were tears in his eyes, as well, but she realized with sudden dawning horror that it wasn’t because of emotion.
She sniffed again, and this time got a whiff of something nasty. “The gas,” she said fearfully. “He’s started pumping it in. We don’t have much time, we have to do something!”
“We will.” He squeezed her hands and stood, tugging her up with him. “Grab as many surgical masks as you can, and layer them over your nose and mouth, and bring extras with us.”
She did as he said, her heart pounding painfully in her chest as the air got increasingly stale. Luke grabbed a heavy metal rack and swung it at the barred window. The glass shattered with a crash and the air got lighter.
Then, suddenly, she heard pounding footsteps in the hallway, screams of panic, and slurred shouts of rage.
Luke’s face went grim. “The Violents must’ve realized our scientist doesn’t intend to let them out. They’re all looking for an exit, but he’s blocked them off.”
Rox shivered. “What about the tunnels?”
“I’m betting the Violents will go into survival mode once they get a lungful of the gas and panic. They’ll forget all about the tunnels and hammer at the ground-level doors. They’re not very bright at the end-stage.”
“Can we get out through the tunnels and stop the gas?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know the way out. We need a guide.” He handed her a syringe full of a clear liquid. “Be ready.”
She didn’t have a chance to ask “ready for what?” because seconds later he yanked open the door and shouted, “Hey!”
Several townspeople ran past, screaming, but it was the big, hulking figure of a Violent, all red eyes and temper, that filled the doorway.
Rox screamed and backpedaled as she recognized Doug Allen, the man who’d killed the chef and his assistant at the Italian restaurant.
Roaring, Doug lunged toward her. Luke slammed and locked the door, then spun and leaped on the Violent’s back, driving the other man to the floor.
“Inject him!” Luke gasped as Doug jackknifed beneath him, fighting for freedom. “Quick!�
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Rox leaped forward, popped the protective cap and plunged the needle into the big man’s upper arm. She pushed the drug in, and withdrew the needle as the Violent roared and bucked.
Seeing that Luke was losing his grip, she got Doug’s flailing arms up behind his back and applied leverage, trying to keep him under control. He howled and thrashed with superhuman strength, nearly pulling away from them twice.
After maybe a minute his struggles slowed. Then they ceased.
Then he drew a long, shuddering breath and exhaled on a long moan. “Oh, my God. What have I done?”
It sounded like a normal man’s voice.
Luke and Rox exchanged looks. At Luke’s nod, she let go of her grip on Doug’s hands and stepped back. After an assessing pause, Luke levered himself off the other man and helped him roll over.
Doug’s eyes were reddened with gas and tears, but not with disease. He looked from Luke to her and back, and his features crumpled. “I killed them.” He rolled onto his side and put his face in his hands, repeating it over and over again. “I killed them. I can’t believe I killed them.”
“Doug!” Rox bent near him and pulled at his hands. “Doug, I need you to listen to me. We need your help, quickly! There are many more people in danger and you can help them. Are you listening to me? You can save lives if you help us now.”
But Doug wasn’t listening, he was howling his grief, his body bowed in an arc of disbelief. “I killed them!”
“Quiet him down,” Luke ordered. “Someone’s going to hear.”
But it was already too late. Stagger-stepping footsteps drew near out in the hallway, and heavy blows made the doorway shudder as another Violent started pounding on it. “Let me in!” roared the Violent. “In!”
With the M.D....at the Altar? Page 16
