by RWK Clark
“I guess what I am saying is, in the case of a living human, if this compound were introduced through broken skin, say a cut or a scrape, it would cause instant death, without letting the subject die.”
Now Dr. Moss stood up, her mind racing and her stomach sick. “What about their mind?”
“Well, it’s going to spread as fast as the heart beats,” he said in a low voice. “The victim is going to die, their personal awareness cease. I’ll have to do further tests, but I’m willing to say they would become violent, if not a vegetable. But I repeat, I can’t be sure.” He cleared his throat. “What about your patient? What is their state?”
Diana opened the door to his office to leave, turning back to him for only a second. “Let’s just say you are not only pretty much on base, but you have hit a home run. We have a serious problem on our hands, Roy. Will you keep working on it?”
“I’ll do what I can,” he replied, standing immediately.
Diana Moss left his office, a jumble of emotions coursing through her, the first of which was panic. They had a mess on their hands. Hopefully this was something that could be rectified quickly.
The first thing that had to be done was to demand that Aspen conduct an immediate recall on the Lumiosa. “I will be in the staff lounge making some calls if you need me.”
CHAPTER 11
Randy Carstens was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dim light which managed to seep through the blinds in his bedroom. It was early Sunday morning; his wife, Charlotte, always rose early, regardless of the day. She would be downstairs, making his coffee and reading the paper. In about an hour she would begin making breakfast for their two boys, Jeremy and Jason. On Monday the boys would return to school, Jeremy in the second grade and Jason in the first. Charlotte had started getting them out of bed early a month ago to get them ready for the school year schedule.
He thought about his confrontation with Roger McGinley, which had resulted in his firing. He had gathered his belongings and been out of there in fifteen minutes flat, but only because McGinley had sent security down to escort him out of the building. He had no time to copy computer files to his thumb drive, or his personal cloud service and as a result he had hardly gotten a wink of sleep since.
But he planned to take care of that today. After breakfast he was going to go to Aspen and, using the employee key he had copied ten years ago, sneak into the building and get those files somehow. Then he was going to go the extra mile: he was going to set fire to each and every rat cage in the lab.
They would burn up before the sprinklers had a chance to put them out, he would see to it. He would saturate them in gasoline, and he would drop a match right into it. The thought of making all of this mess right brought a smile to his face.
How the heck was McGinley covering up his findings? He couldn’t begin to imagine, but he was going to expose that man if it was the last thing he did. Randy simply couldn’t imagine what the effect of the ink would be on humans, but if it was anything like the lab rats, well…
He sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched, then stood and headed for the shower. He was so relieved by his plan that he was able to sing as he washed, and that was a good feeling. Within a half-hour’s time he was trotting downstairs to get some coffee and breakfast, clean, dressed, and still humming.
Charlotte looked up at him from the table, her coffee cup half-way to her mouth. “You’re in a good mood this morning! Nice to see!”
“Yes, I am,” he replied as he filled his own mug. He walked to the table and bent down to kiss his wife. “Listen, I have some running to do this morning, so I’m going to skip breakfast.”
She looked up from the paper. “Fine. What’s up?”
Randy sat down and took a sip of his coffee. Shrugging, he replied, “I just forgot a couple of things at the office. Won’t take me long. When I get back I thought we could go have lunch at your mother’s.”
Charlotte looked at him as though he had grown an arm out of his forehead. “If I didn’t know better I would think you are sick, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She’ll love the company. Thanks, dear.”
Randy nodded and took the sports section from the paper. He wasn’t much of a fan of any sports, but he always read up on them on Sunday, just to keep up with the guys at work. The thought made him smile; he didn’t have any ‘guys at work’ anymore.
∞
Ten minutes later Jeremy and Jason appeared, their hair tousled and their eyes tired. “I’m hungry,” Jason said as he approached the table, dragging his blanket behind him.
Charlotte stood to prepare some food. “Fine, dear, but the blanket can’t be at the table. You know better, Jason.”
“I forgot,” the boy mumbled as he climbed down and headed to return the blanket.
Randy stopped him as he passed and planted a kiss on his messy hair. “I’ve got some errands to run,” he said, releasing his youngest son. “Had to steal a kiss. You too, Jeremy. Come over here.”
“Ugh, dad,” the boy said, faking his disappointment. “I’m too big for kisses.”
Randy gave him six kisses and replied, “You are never too big for kisses from Mom and Dad, got it?”
“Got it.”
Charlotte brought two small glasses of orange juice to the table as Randy stood. He embraced her and gave her a kiss as well. “I’m gonna go, dear,” he said. “I should be back in an hour or two okay? Don’t forget to call your mom.”
“I won’t,” Charlotte replied. “Drive safe.”
Soon, Randy was tooling down the freeway in the direction of Aspen Stationers’ Supply. He made only one stop to fill a five-gallon gasoline tank, then resumed his mission. When he pulled up to the gate he worried about the guard on duty, but only for a brief moment; the weekend guard, Ted, wouldn’t know he had been fired. That wasn’t something Aspen was too strict on, especially when it came to firings of executives or scientists; they liked to pretend it didn’t happen as quickly as possible.
“Dr. Carstens!” Teddy greeting him with a glowing smile. They hadn’t seen each other in months, as Randy either stayed all weekend long, or didn’t come in at all. “How are things going? That new pen of yours is sure doing well! Congrats!”
“Good Teddy,” he replied. “It’s going great, and thank you.”
The man opened the gate and Randy drove through, maintaining his calm, cool demeanor. He drove to the rear of the building, where the science and lab employees parked and entered. The lot was empty, much to his relief, and he parked his car right outside the door.
That particular entrance was the only one that didn’t require a card in the entire building. Due to Aspen’s financial problems it had been swept under the rug when the other doors were converted. That had been the reason Randy had been given a key by upper management, and he had made a copy only because he had a bad habit of losing things. When he left he had given the original to the security guard who had escorted him out, and he had been so relieved that he had a spare safe at home.
Once he was safe inside, gas can in hand, he made a beeline for his old office. Everything was just as he left it. He glanced around with sadness; he had to admit he would miss this place. But now was not the time for melancholy and tears.
Randy sat at his desk and booted his computer. He had prepared himself in the event that the system wouldn’t take his password; it would be simple enough to override. But to his surprise his password went right through, granting him complete access. They must have forgotten to take care of the small stuff.
It took him less than fifteen minutes to open the files he needed. It did take a little longer to transfer them to his thumb drive, but he got it done and turned the system off, satisfaction filling his soul and a broad smile on his face. Randy stood and walked to the office door, where he bent down and picked up the gas can. He looked around the room one last time, then shut the light off and left.
The lab door would be locked, but the same key that got him in
the building would get him in the lab. First he tried his code, and of course, it didn’t work. They sure didn’t forget some things, he thought. He started to dig for his key, then he remembered one of the other scientists, George Keister, had Randy write down his code so he wouldn’t forget, and it had been easy: 8765. He punched it in and the door popped open.
Right away Randy could hear the sickening, abnormal squealing of the rats. The sounds of fighting and ripping flesh were audible as well, and Randy cringed as he fought the urge to gag. He approached the closest cage and peered in.
The two rats were nothing more than dirty, bloody mounds of fur with milky eyes and claws. They were fighting violently, biting and ripping at each other like mad. Randy couldn’t tell if they were the same rats, but he guessed they were; they had evolved horrifically. He didn’t believe anyone had tended them since he left.
He took his cell phone out of his pocket and began to snap pictures. He took scores of them, from as many angles as possible, then returned his phone to his pocket. Glancing down at the gasoline, Randy began to wonder if he was doing right by killing the rats. Wouldn’t that destroy much needed evidence?
He thought about it for only a minute longer. No, he wouldn’t burn down the lab. All of this would not only be evidence, it may help authorities to find some kind of antidote, or even a preventative vaccine. With that thought Randy found himself wondering if anyone had been affected since the pen’s release to the public. He shook his head, as if to shake the thought off of him, then he picked up the gas and turned to leave.
Roger McGinley stood at the doorway of the lab, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed over his chest. “What the heck are you doing here?”
Randy’s heart began to pound. “I forgot some things in my office, I thought, but I realized that none of it was important, so I threw it all away.”
“What’s the gas for, Randy?” he asked. “And how the heck did you get in the building?”
Randy dodged the last question, preferring to answer the first; hopefully it would distract the man. “To be honest, I was going to burn the damn place down, but then I decided if there are any negative repercussions from your selfish choices it would be best to let them fall on you.”
“Put the gas down.”
Randy peered at him in confusion, then sat the red gas can on the floor. When he stood upright Roger was standing there pointing a gun at him casually. He thought he might crap his pants on the spot.
“Move away from it, please,” Roger said. “It wouldn’t do to kill myself trying to get rid of you.”
Randy put his hands in the air and took a few steps forward, putting space between himself and the gasoline. “Look, Roger. I have no interest in bringing you or anyone else down, okay?”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” The man approached him, clucking his tongue. “Look, I’m sorry that it had to come to this, but I cannot let you sabotage the entire company because you suddenly grew a conscious, do you understand?”
When he got about a foot away from Randy he cocked the handgun, and his smile grew. Just then a loud screech came from the cage directly behind him, and Roger spun, startled, toward the sound. The gun was no longer pointed at Randy, and he took advantage of the opportunity.
With a single swing he punched Roger as hard as he could in the side of the head. The man flew backward, dropping the gun, and he fell into the very cage from which the sound had come. It fell off the countertop and clattered to the floor, the lid flying open.
The rats didn’t miss a beat; they rushed out of the cage and jumped on Roger McGinley’s body, which lay in shock on the floor. Immediately they began to bite him, and he started to scream.
“Randy, what the heck?” he hollered. “Help me! It hurts! Get them off me! Help me!”
Randy stared as the rats ripped and chewed at the skin on his face with their teeth. He backed away, his mouth hanging open, and thought he might be sick. Suddenly, one of the rats went for the man’s neck, and Randy jerked himself out of his trance. He ran out the lab door and got to his car as quickly as possible.
He sped off the grounds and through the gate, ignoring the wave Teddy gave him. When he was a couple of miles down the road he pulled over, flung his car door open, and vomited all over the pavement. It took him awhile to stop and collect himself, but when he did he took his cell out of his pocket and dialed 911.
“911 Emergency Response,” a woman said. “What is your emergency?”
Randy cleared his throat. “Roger McGinley, president of Aspen Stationers’, has just been attacked by some infected rats in the laboratory. They are trying to eat him! Please, hurry! Before they kill him!”
“What is your name, sir?”
“Randy,” he replied. “Randy Carstens. I used to work for Aspen, but I was fired. I came to collect my things, and this took place. I will wait for the ambulance at the main gate if you want.”
Randy held the phone to his ear as he turned the car around and headed back for the Aspen building. This was the best way. He could give authorities the information they would need. If he got into trouble, so be it.
After all, he knew in his heart that he deserved it.
CHAPTER 12
Randy drove back to the main gate of Aspen Stationers’ to find Teddy standing in front of the open gate, waving his arms frantically.
“Dr. Carstens, I just got a call in the guard shack from the police station asking about an emergency in the building,” Teddy said in high speed, his eyes wide and anxiety ridden. “Is something wrong inside?”
“Hold on,” Randy replied. He pulled his car away from the entrance and parked it before returning to the guard. “Teddy, something pretty unsavory has been going on here, and just now it came to a head. The police and ambulance are on their way, but I think I should wait to fill you in.”
Sirens immediately became audible, and even though Teddy could tell how serious Randy was, he asked no further questions. Two EMT vehicles arrived first, and as soon as they pulled up Randy and Teddy jogged up to them. The scientist was extremely happy to see them.
“I’m not sure how to fill you in on all of this,” he began, “but there is a heck of a mess inside, and you are going to be in danger by even going in.”
Two police cars and a fire truck came racing up to the gate next, and the first two officers got out of their car and approached Randy and Teddy.
“What is the emergency here, gentlemen?” Asked an officer with a tag on his chest which read ‘Bransky’.
Randy cleared his throat. “I’m going to try to fill you in, and it’s all going to sound unbelievable, but I promise you that everything I am about to say is the honest truth.”
“Is someone in need of medical assistance at this moment?” the cop asked.
Randy held up his hand. “Listen, sir. I am a former lead scientist for Aspen. I was let go last week because of my unwillingness to cover up a volatile situation. The man inside, the man in need of assistance, is currently a direct victim of the situation, and I have to say that anyone who comes into contact with him is running a massive risk of becoming the same.”
Bransky looked at his partner, a man by the name of Gibbons, with concern. “Go on.”
With relief Randy continued. “We released a new ink pen to the public recently. The Aspen Lumiosa; perhaps you have heard of it?”
Gibbons eyes lit up. “Sure! I bought some for my kids for school!”
“Well, the pens are poisonous,” Randy said.
Now Gibbons and Bransky both looked a bit stricken. “What do you mean, ‘poisonous’?” Gibbons asked in a low voice.
Randy took a deep breath. “In lab testing the ink from the pens did… horrid things to our lab subjects. Things that no one could figure out how to stop. I tried to halt the release of the product, but the president, Roger McGinley, fired me and released it anyway due to the financial state the company was in.”
“If you have been fired, what are you doing here?
” Teddy interjected.
Now Randy looked at him, guilt on his face. “I came to download records from my computer to turn over to authorities. Roger caught me, pulled a gun on me, and threatened me with it. But some of the rats got out of the cage when it was knocked over, and they attacked him…”
“Rats attacked Mr. McGinley?” Bransky asked.
Now Randy was getting impatient. Why couldn’t they all just let him tell them the story and then decide how to deal with it? All they wanted to do was interrupt and ask stupid questions.
“Listen, these aren’t just any rats!” Randy was getting irate. “These rats were the lab subjects for Lumiosa’s special ink, and it… it did something to them. They kill each other, but they don’t die! They attack, and they eat bites of each other, but the victims, well, they come back to life, and they keep attacking!”
Now Bransky gave a slight chuckle. “What the heck are you talking about?”
Randy Carstens could tell this was going to be far more difficult that he initially thought, and if he were them, listening to him, he wouldn’t believe it either. “Look, it’s this simple. When I left the lab a little while ago, rats were attacking and eating Mr. McGinley. He will need medical attention, but the rats, and their condition, are infectious. If you go in there you will all need some kind of protection; something to keep them from being able to bite you.”
Gibbons spoke up. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Deadly,” Randy replied.
With that, Gibbons didn’t wait another second, even though Bransky maintained his incredulous look. Gibbons turned immediately and made his way over to the EMTs.
“In order to proceed you will need to wear some kind of protective gear,” he said. “Do you have anything like that with you in your vehicles?”
While they discussed the situation, Randy turned to Bransky. “Listen, sir. I realize how outlandish this sounds, but who would make something like this up? We need to contact the feds; the CDC, or someone. The situation needs to be contained as quickly and efficiently as possible, or I promise you, everyone in the country is at risk.” He sighed and shook his head. “We already are.”
