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Permanent Ink: Deadwalkers (Zombie Outbreak)

Page 3

by RWK Clark


  “I’ll be up directly,” he said to the CEO. “I’m prepared to present my findings.”

  McGinley stepped into the lab and Randy let the door close. He walked back to his stool, his back to the man, who was closing the shade that covered the window on the door. As he did so, he saw the rats for the first time.

  “Wow, Carstens,” he said in a low voice.

  Randy turned to the man, whom he now hated. McGinley’s face was void of any smile now. He was pale, and he looked as if he may throw up.

  “This is what it does,” he said matter-of-factly. “This ink of yours.”

  McGinley approached the cages and stood, frozen, before them. He watched in horror as the rats continued to go at each other. A couple of them were even in the stage of coming back to life. It was terrible and unnatural; it was downright evil.

  “You have been telling me about this, but…”

  “But what, sir?” Randy asked in a sarcastic voice. “But you thought I was making it up? But you thought it was a joke? But what?”

  McGinley continued staring. “I guess I thought you were exaggerating. What do you really think are the chances of this product having the same effect on human beings? Percentage-wise, I mean.”

  “One-hundred percent,” Randy replied in a quiet voice.

  That got Roger McGinley’s attention, and he abruptly turned to the scientist. “Well, Lumiosa has been on the market since yesterday; there is no way to get them off the shelves. They have been selling like crazy, and the projections are outstanding.”

  “You have to recall them, sir,” Randy said. “Immediately.”

  McGinley shook his head. “No. I’m not going to do that.”

  Randy felt rage build in his entire body. He stood up and approached his boss, reaching him in two long strides. “You have to. I guarantee you that people, children especially, are going to die! Are you out of your mind?”

  The CEO suddenly laughed. “Don’t be naïve, Carstens. The numbers are so good that we are going to be out of trouble within the month. There have been no reports of any issues whatsoever. No, I won’t do it.”

  “It takes only a few hours for the effects to manifest, McGinley!” Randy was so angry he was shaking. He took a series of deep breaths, and when he was a bit calmer he stated in a clear, controlled voice, “If you don’t do this, I am going to the authorities with my findings. It’s as simple as that.”

  Now McGinley spun around to face Randy, his face red with anger. “Don’t you try to threaten me. I’ll see to it that you not only lose your job, but that no one ever hears your lame opinions.” The man was clenching and unclenching his fists rapidly. “As a matter of fact, you don’t need to attend the meeting at all. I will present ‘your’ findings; you clean out your office and get the heck out of the building within the half-hour.”

  Carstens’ mouth hung open as he stared at the man in disbelief. How could one human being be so greedy and so calloused as the man before him seemed to be? His eyes glanced to the left at the file folder on the counter, and McGinley took note of it immediately. He walked over and picked up the folder marked ‘Lumiosa Trials’.

  “Well, this was all I need to seal the deal anyway, thank you,” McGinley said. “A half-hour, and I mean it. The meeting will take ten minutes or less; I’ll be back to make sure you are gone.”

  With that, the man left the lab, leaving Carstens to decide what to do. Without the folder, there wasn’t much he could do. He had the same information in his computer though, so he decided to go there right away, send the computer files to his personal cloud service, and then go to the police as quickly as possible.

  There was no other way.

  ∞

  Roger McGinley sped to the elevator and got to the top floor boardroom as quickly as he could. He had the folder in his hands, which would make the series of lies he was about to tell look very good indeed. If the board wanted copies, well, he would simply forge some convincing and dishonest copies for their benefit.

  He saw absolutely no reason to take the Lumiosa series off the shelves. He knew if he did it would mean sure death for Aspen Stationers’ Supply, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. He had worked here since he was twenty, and he had worked his way up the ladder with all of his heart. If Aspen fell apart because of a little fluke with their most popular ink, it wouldn’t be on his watch.

  The CEO got to the board room and, flashing his dazzling smile, excitedly told the board about Carstens’ ‘success’ rectifying the pens’ issues. He waved the file folder around convincingly, and he let the members know that Carstens had to go home to deal with an ill child. Everyone left the eight-minute-long powwow happy and satisfied, with plenty of laughter and slap backs.

  After McGinley had taken the folder to his office and locked it safely in his desk he headed back to Carstens’ office and lab. He wanted to make sure the guy was out, and he was going to stay with him until he was. It wouldn’t do to have the guy blabbing to anyone with the truth of the matter, and he would see to it that he didn’t.

  So, he took the elevator down to confront the scientist once again, humming brightly during the entire ride.

  Chapter 4

  “Mom, something is wrong with Melanie. I think she’s sick or something.”

  It was twelve-forty-two in the morning, and Michelle had just finally fallen asleep. She was exhausted, but that fact hadn’t brought her sleep any easier; it was always difficult for her to rest soundly when her husband, Mitch, was out of town. It was late Friday night now, and he wouldn’t be home from Chicago until Monday evening.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned as she strained in the darkness at the person standing next to her bed. By height she could tell it was Megan. What was she doing up so late, and what had she just said?

  “Megan?” she asked in a groggy voice. “What’s going on? Why are you up?”

  The girl reached out in the darkness and turned on her mother’s bedside lamp, causing Michelle’s hand to fly up to her face to protect her eyes from its glare.

  “Melanie’s sick, Mom,” she answered. “You need to get up.”

  Michelle nodded and swung her feet to the floor and put them into her pink fuzzy slippers. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Megan shrugged and rubbed at her own eyes with her fists. “I don’t know. I was sleeping, and I heard her crying or something, so I got up to find out what was wrong. She’s all sweaty and red, and she’s breathing really hard.” The girl turned to leave the room, then stopped and turned around. “Oh, and she was, like, crying in her sleep. She never even woke up when I went in, and I tried to wake her up three times.”

  Michelle stood and followed her eldest out of the room and down the hall to Melanie’s room. The door was ajar, and the girl’s Winnie the Pooh nightlight was casting a yellow hue and throwing shadows. She approached the girl’s bed and turned her princess lamp on.

  “Melly?” she said. “It’s mommy, honey. Wake up.”

  The girl didn’t move or open her eyes. She groaned and whimpered for a moment, then went still again. Michelle brushed her daughter’s sweat-soaked hair off her forehead, and immediately her hand jerked back. Her eyes widened and she turned abruptly to Megan.

  “Get me the ear thermometer out of the hall closet, bug,” she said, then turned back to Melanie as Megan jogged out of the room. “Melly, I need you to wake up.”

  Michelle began to gently shake the girl, but all that did was cause the whimpering to start up again. She noticed that the blankets had been kicked completely off, and she reached for them to pull them back up; they were completely soaked! Her stomach flip-flopped with concern.

  Megan returned. “Her you go, Mom. Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Michelle replied as she removed the cap from the earpiece and put it in her daughter’s ear. “Let’s just get a temp first.”

  Within seconds the gadget beeped and Melanie’s temperature appeared on the small screen: 103.7.

 
; “Megan, get me a clean blanket out of the linen closet, then put some shoes on and go start the car and open the garage,” she said. “We’re going to the emergency room. Go now!”

  The girl disappeared again, and within only seconds she returned toting a single-sized quilt. She handed it to her mother without saying a word, and then left yet again to obey the directives she had been given. Michelle stood and unfolded the blanket with a couple of shakes, then wrapped it around her daughter’s sweaty body.

  “We’re going to the doctor, Melly,” she said soothingly. “They’re just going to check you and make sure that you are okay.”

  She heaved the girl up and let her head rest on her shoulder, then she covered her head with the corner of the quilt. Walking as quickly as she could she made her way downstairs, where she slipped her feet into a pair of thongs which sat on a mat next to the garage door before leaving and clumsily shutting the door behind her.

  Megan was in the passenger seat of the van, her seatbelt buckled. She had the vehicle running, and the garage door was open, just as Michelle had asked. Melanie was quickly put in the back seat, and then her mother jumped into the driver’s seat and put the van in reverse. Her heart was pounding, and her mind was racing.

  “Who have you two been around lately that is sick?” she asked Megan as she got moving down the road.

  Megan tried to think about the question, but not a single ill person came to mind. “No one, Mom. We haven’t even left the house since we went shopping with you. No, wait, Melly did play in the tree house this morning, but she was alone, remember?”

  Michelle nodded and picked up her speed. “I wonder what it is… maybe she ate something bad?”

  “We’ve all eaten the same food, Mother,” Megan replied.

  They made the rest of the twenty-minute drive to the hospital in silence. When they finally pulled into Suburban Medical Center in Thornton Michelle drove directly to the entrance and threw the van into park. She got out and began to get Melanie out of the back as Megan turned the engine off and got out of the van, keys in her hand. Once the sick girl was in her mother’s arms the woman began to run into the emergency room as fast as she could.

  The ER was milling with people. Some were seated in chairs, and others were in wheelchairs. Some were pacing around anxiously while others slept with their heads on the shoulders of loved ones. Down a long hallway someone was screaming in either grief or horrible pain.

  Michelle took note of none of it, however. She made a beeline for a nurse who was seated behind a large countertop/desk area. The woman was on a computer, and she seemed unfazed by the chaos surrounding her.

  “Excuse me,” Michelle began. “My daughter is really, really sick. I need to see someone right away please.”

  The woman turned to her and pulled a large card from a rack next to the computer. “The girl’s name?”

  “Melanie Casperson,” Michelle replied.

  “Age?”

  “She’s nine,” Michelle said. “Look, can’t we do this from a room?”

  The woman looked up and smiled robotically. “I’m sorry. We have to admit her through triage. What are her symptoms?”

  Michelle sighed with exasperation. “Her sister woke me up and said she was sick. When I went to check on her, she had a fever of 103.7 and she was covered in sweat. She was crying a bit in her sleep, and she wouldn’t wake up.”

  The nurse wrote furiously. “Go ahead and have a seat right over there.” She stopped and gestured toward a row of orange chairs which were lined up in the corridor along a wall. Next to them was a large door marked ‘Triage’. “One of the triage nurses with be with you momentarily.”

  “Thank you.” Michelle turned to Megan and then nodded toward the chairs with her head. They walked over and sat down, Michelle cradling and rocking her sick younger child.

  “Mom, just so you know, the van isn’t parked, remember?”

  Michelle thought about it only for a moment. “It’s just going to have to stay there until we get her in a room. I can’t leave her now.”

  At that exact moment a young man of approximately twenty-seven came through the automatic doors leading outside. He wore a jacket with a nametag at the breast; both items identified him as a paramedic. He walked up to the main desk and said something to the nurse, which neither Michelle nor Megan could hear, and soon the nurse picked up the telephone receiver. She punched in a few numbers, and then her voice came over the PA system.

  “Would the owners of the maroon minivan please move your vehicle,” she firmly stated. “If not, the vehicle will be towed. Thank you.”

  The paramedic turned around and began to scan the room, and Michelle tried to stand quickly. He noticed and made his way toward her. As he walked he held his hand up to signal her not to stand.

  “Is that your van outside?” he asked.

  Michelle nodded. Tears were forming in her eyes, and she felt completely overwhelmed. She felt Megan’s hand on her shoulder, patting it and trying to console her.

  “Yes,” she replied. “My daughter is very sick. I’m waiting for the triage nurse to call us back. I can’t leave.”

  Megan spoke up. “Mom, leave Melly with me; I’ll sit with her. It will only take you a minute.”

  The paramedic said, “I can stay here with the girls as well, but we really need your van to be moved right away. It’s blocking the ambulance access.”

  Michelle looked over at Megan, studying her, as if to be sure that the girl was with it enough to look after her sister. After a second she gave a single nod, and she put Melanie’s limp, blanketed body into Megan’s arms. Her brow was knit with anxiety.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, looking her oldest daughter dead in the eyes. “You stay right here no matter what, unless the nurse calls us, okay?”

  Megan nodded. “I’ve got it Mom.”

  With that, Michelle made her way out the automatic door. No sooner was she gone than the triage door opened, and a nurse with a clipboard appeared. She scanned the board for only a fraction of a second, then looked at Megan.

  “Melanie Casperson?”

  Megan sat up straight. “That’s my sister, right here. She won’t wake up.”

  The nurse looked around. “Do you have a parent with you?”

  “Yes,” the girl replied. “She had to move our car. She’ll be right back.”

  The nurse began looking around yet again. “I need to get a wheelchair to bring her back in, okay honey? Stay right here.”

  Megan watched the woman as she went a short distance up the corridor and took a right. In seconds she reappeared, pushing a wheelchair, her clipboard tucked snugly under her arm. She rushed toward the girls with the chair.

  “Okay, hon,” she began. “Just sit still, and I’ll take your sister from you, okay?” She bent down and positioned her arms under Melanie properly. “At the count of three I’m going to lift her, okay?”

  Megan nodded, and the nurse said, “One, two, and three!” She lifted the girl almost effortlessly. Just as she was placing her in the chair Michelle came through the door.

  “Oh, thank you!” She hurried to them. “My daughter, she is so sick!”

  The nurse smiled comfortingly at Michelle, but it had little effect on the woman. “Well, follow me Mrs….”

  “Casperson,” Michelle finished.

  “Mrs. Casperson. We are going to find out what’s going on with your daughter.” She began to head back to the triage room pushing the chair. Megan and Michelle followed right on her heels.

  When they were all the way into the room, the woman said, “I’m Julie Yates, and I’m the triage nurse this evening. I’m going to take Melanie’s vitals. What’s going on with her tonight?”

  For the second time Michelle recapped what she knew while the nurse took the child’s temperature, pulse, and other vital signs. She also made it a point to try to wake Melanie, and when she was unsuccessful she looked at her pupils with a light.

  “I’m going to have t
o admit your daughter, Mrs. Casperson,” she said as soon as she took the light from the girl’s eyes. “A doctor should see her right away.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Michelle asked, her voice on the verge of panic.

  The nurse held up her hand. “Just give me one moment.” She left the room, but returned less than a minute later. “We’re going to take Melanie to a room. The nurse outside is getting a doctor here right now that can see her immediately. Her temperature is 104.6, and she is unresponsive. I am not able to make a diagnosis, ma’am. She needs to see a physician right away.” She took hold of the wheelchair and began to steer it out of the room. “Follow me, please.”

  Ten minutes later they were in a room in the emergency department, with Melanie’s still body tucked snugly under blankets on an exam table. Nurse Yates reassured them that the doctor would be there right away, and that if anything should happen they needed only to press the button on the end of a wire which was plugged into the wall and clipped to the bedding. Michelle took the chair next to the bed, and she sat rigidly, stroking her daughter’s soaked hair.

  Megan, on the other hand, paced back and forth as her mother cooed over her sister. Finally, she stopped. She stared at them both briefly.

  “Mom,” she said, “what’s going on with Mel?”

  Michelle answered her daughter without looking at her. “I think she just has a really bad flu bug.”

  “But why isn’t she waking up?” Megan asked. “And look, her skin is so… gray looking.”

  Michelle only nodded at her daughter, exasperated and scared to death. At that moment a physician entered the room, accompanied by the nurse from the triage room. He offered Michelle a slight smile, attempting to put her at ease, but even she, in her panicked state, did not miss the stunned look on his face when he glanced at Melanie.

  “I’m Dr. Kyle Hilliard,” he said to Michelle as he walked directly to the sick child. He immediately lifted her eyelids, and then proceeded to put his stethoscope in his ears. He turned to Julie Yates. “I want to start an IV immediately; she’s terribly dehydrated. I also want the lab up here to draw for a CBC, stat.”

 

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