Threshold Series (Book 1): Threshold
Page 1
Threshold
Book One of the Threshold Series
David Luquer
Copyright © 2013/2019 David Luquer
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 781092672535
Threshold
by David Luquer
ISBN: 781092672535
Copyright © 2013/2019 David Luquer
Original Released: March 1, 2013
Re-release: April 6, 2019
Originally released as Serum of the Dead
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without the prior written permission of the author, except in brief quotations or critical reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Any name, places or events are fiction or used fictitiously by the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
“Some cures are worse than the dangers they combat.”
- Lucius Annaeus Seneca
CHAPTER oNE
Six Months Ago
It began as barbering, a seemingly normal activity when dealing with laboratory rats. The dominant rodent chews or tears the hair from the others, leaving a bald spot in their fur. Sometimes they will even chew the whiskers of the less dominant.
Next came the barbarism. This is less common and involved the chewing and tearing of the skin of the other rats, sometimes going as far as tearing the flesh beneath the skin. At times this may drive the others to join in, attacking the bloodied rodent to death.
Last came the bloodbath. Pieces of the smaller rats littered the cage, torn to shreds by the larger one. Blood was smeared and splattered against the inside of the cage. This was something entirely new to Doctor Benjamin Johnson. He startled and leaned back quickly as some of the limbs began twitching every so often. He blinked in disbelief before looking over his shoulder to see if anyone else was present to notice this. He breathed a sigh of relief to find himself still alone.
In the years he’d worked in biomedical research, he had never witnessed anything like this. While it may not be completely unheard of for this behavior to progress to this degree over the course of six months or a minimum of six weeks, this had taken place over the span of six hours. Only six hours had passed from docile demeanor to the aggression and pure rage that fed a bloodlust unexplainable by the doctor who’d created the serum injected into the once normal companion rodents. These side effects were disturbing. The speed at which they had taken over the brain functions of the subjects was alarming. Still, the evidence of this had unfolded before his eyes in less than the span of a single workday.
Doctor Benjamin Johnson removed his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, trying to think of what could have possibly gone wrong. PEF06 was supposed to be a miracle, a medical breakthrough that would place him and his colleagues on the list of geniuses in the field.
Instead, they were all met with another failure.
The sole survivor of the brutal battle hobbled between the scattered remains of the now dead victims. Its right hind leg kicked out to the side occasionally as it trudged along. The damaged neurons were not completely firing. At times it seemed the leg functioned normally for a minute or two. After that, it would resume the letdown of kicking out to the side again.
Doctor Johnson sighed and rested his hands on the table, staring at the gruesome sight before him behind the thin wall of polycarbonate holding the victor within its confines. “Give me the answer, you little fucker. What more do I need to do?”
The enraged creature gazed back at him, no apparent signs of the rodent it once was remaining in its eyes. He glared back at it with disgust. He would have to prepare his results and be forced to give an explanation for the lack of desired results and the extent of the unwanted side effects. But first, he had to get rid of the remains.
Gassing the rats had proved unsuccessful. They appeared dead afterward but began moving shortly after the fumes ceased to flood the cage. He wasn’t about to stick his hand in and grab the rat with the intent of overdosing it with a strong injection of barbiturate. Doing so would surely result in the brutalizing of his fingers.
Instead, he slid the cage into a biohazard bag, sealed the opening and exited the lab with it. The only thing he could think of to end the occupant was incineration. He would burn the cage and its contents, reducing it to nothing but ashes and smoldering plastic.
He knew there was still a chance to salvage the project, though it was taking longer than he’d hoped to do so. For now, he would have to return to the early stages of formulation. Funding was beginning to dry up and time was running out.
CHAPTER TWO
Day One
A late spring breeze was gently blowing the trees that had finally filled in with new green leaves as Doctor Fredrick Blake drove his blue sedan along the state highway, a winding road that ran along the river that nearly perfectly paralleled it. The scent of the blossoming buds filled his nostrils, flowing in through the open window.
With vacation cut disappointingly short, Doctor Blake had agreed to return to work early and oversee the recent and unexpected testing of on a control group of rats in the laboratory. True, his lifestyle of living alone made these decisions easier. Still, he had been looking forward to the time off to work on his own projects. Things had already been busy enough and now it was about to get busier, or so it seemed.
Music played at a fair volume, hard rock from the Nineteen-Seventies. It was Blakes music of choice. He preferred the genre that bordered heavy metal, some called it proto-metal but genres mattered nothing to him. If he liked it, he listened to it. His fingers subconsciously drummed the steering wheel to the beat.
Approaching a small private road ahead, Doctor Blake could see the glass-front buildings of NeurAx looming from the hill at the end of the road. Claiming to be the way of the medical future, the structure was state-of-the-art research a facility where he worked as a laboratory veterinarian, overseeing the effects of biomedical research on mice, rats and other rodents.
He turned onto the road, which stretched for a quarter of a mile before coming to the large parking lot in the front of the main building. Though they were off the road quite a distance, the large gated buildings were more than visible from the main road. Blake couldn’t help but notice how impressive the sight was, even after working there for some time and seeing it day in and day out.
NeurAx was located in upstate New York, approximately 3 hours north of New York City, in a small town far from the major populations. The large building was nestled in the surrounding maple, spruce and elm trees, the only other inhabitants residing beneath the soil in a nearby cemetery. The quiet atmosphere was perfect for the doctors, technicians, chemists, microbiologists and security staff who entered each day. The tall gate surrounding the property was lined along the top with razor wire to ensure that no trespassers could enter the grounds uninvited.
Since moving here, Doctor Blake had come to truly love the area, along with the laid-back way of life. Days were busy but nights fund him working on papers and reports from the events taking place in the laboratories as well as articles of his own interests. Blake required little downtime and even less of a social life. The hardest adjustment came with the first winter here, cold and snowy. Summers were hot and humid but he spent most of the time in the air conditioning during those months, anyway.
Blake, along with the other doctors and scientists on staff at NeurAx had been working on a means to repair damaged or severed neurons and a serum allowing these nerve cells to fire on their own once again, causing useless limbs to be useful, helping eliminate the effec
ts Alzheimer’s and reverse neurological damage of various types and degrees. Neurologists were tasked with perfecting methods of repair to these neurons and performed the surgical procedures required. Chemists developed experimental serums to aid in chemically enhancing the firing of the repaired neurological pathways. Laboratory technicians tested these serums on laboratory animals and monitored the host, determining the wanted or unwanted effects of each new serum.
Doctor Blake slowed his car as he neared the gate easing to a halt and reaching his arm out the window to present his badge to James Douglas, the overnight security guard on duty each morning at this time, his shift less than an hour from ending.
James was a pleasant man, appearing to be in his thirties. He never failed to greet each person arriving with a broad smile and a brief moment of conversation. He never complained when making his rounds, no matter what the weather conditions were at the time, even in the dark. The small security structure at the gate entrance offered some relief whenever he returned, air-conditioned in the summer and heated in the winter and some amount of light during the dark hours that covered most of his shift.
“Good morning, Doctor Blake,” James said with his usual pleasant smile. “You don’t need to show me your I.D. every morning. I should know who you are, by now.”
“Formalities, James,” Doctor Blake said. “How are the wife and kids?”
“They’re doing great, thanks. I thought you were on vacation.”
“I got called back in early.”
James shook his head. “haven’t you learned not to answer your phone when you’re supposed to be off?”
“The downfall of having a company-issued cellphone.”
“Must be something big going on, right?”
Doctor Blake smiled and shook his head. “You know I can’t discuss these things, not outside of the labs and meetings.”
“I know, sorry. Just my curiosity getting the better of me. You have yourself a good morning.”
Doctor Blake responded with a pleasant nod before driving through the gate. Parking his sedan in the nearest space he could find, he climbed out to be met by Doctor John Williams, also exiting his own car. They walked toward the door together, engaging in small talk as they started for the glass double doors. The two had worked together at NeurAx for the past two years and had formed a friendship as well as a close working relationship.
“About time you showed up,” Williams said.
“I was enjoying my vacation before you called,” Blake responded.
“I know and I’m sorry,” Williams said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I thought you would want to be here for this. We’re testing PEF07 this morning.”
“It’s ready for trials on rats?” Blake asked, somewhat surprised. “It’s only been in reformulation for six months.”
“What can I say? Johnson’s a genius.”
PEF07 stood for Pathway Enhanced Firing serum, seventh formulation. They had been attempting to use the previous PEF serums, all six of them, without the fully desired effects. They had gotten close a couple of times so the hope was that PEF07 would be the last reformulation, the one to go to final approval and clinical trials.
“Who’s overseeing the test group?” Doctor Blake asked.
“I am,” Williams answered. “But we need you to monitor the rats and the technicians.”
“Just let me drop some stuff off in my office and I’ll meet you in the lab.”
“Sounds good. We’ll be in Lab Four.” Doctor Williams said.
As Williams headed down the hall toward the laboratory wing, Blake made his way to his office to deposit his briefcase and notes before checking his e-mail. His office was not large, but big enough for him to spend hours there without getting claustrophobic. He had a fold-up cot in the corner, which he had been known to set up and sleep in his office when he had worked late into the evening. With the new tests awaiting him, this would be happening more than he enjoyed the thought of. It wasn’t really comfortable and he got very little rest during those nights.
Once he’d checked his messages, he headed out into the hallway, making his way to the research animal laboratories to meet up with Doctor Williams. This could be an amazing break-through or it could be another disappointment. In a short time, he and the others would know which way it would go.
* * * *
Once inside Laboratory Four, Doctor Blake oversaw the technicians injecting rats with PEF07 with Doctor Williams overseeing him. He often felt slightly awkward with Williams standing behind him while he directed the technicians but he aware of the doctor’s investment of time in each formulation. It only made sense for him to be there, even if his presence made everyone slightly nervous.
The lab was filled with the smell of cedar shavings from the polycarbonate rat cages. Technicians in white lab coats moved about in the room, picking up cages and heading to the long tables where they worked with the rodents.
The rats had been the recipients of recent surgery to repair severed nerves in their right hind legs, the same limb for all to make certain all results we consistent. The nerves had been severed initially by the doctors to test the repair procedures and the following treatments with experimental serums. The severed nerves had been left damaged for weeks to ensure that all firing had stopped and they would not receive erroneous results from being impatient.
The technicians, led by Julie Walsh were responsible for giving the injections in the affected legs near to the original site of the repaired neurons. The rats were then placed back into the cages, hobbling around on three legs, waiting for the serum to cause the firing that would allow them the use of all four limbs again.
Julie moved from one technician to the next, observing their technique and making any corrections needed in their delivery. Blake had learned a great deal of confidence and respect for the young woman. He had watched her skills grow in the time they had worked together at NeurAx.
“What, exactly happened to the last formulation’s test group?” Williams asked.
Blake shrugged, not taking his eyes off the rats. “Nobody knows for sure. Johnson only talked to Doctor Benson afterward. The rest of us were just told it had unpredictable results. I guess we may never know the entire story.”
Johnson rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Just thinking out loud. There may be a way to get ahold of some of those notes.”
“Doubtful,” Blake said. “The server they’re on would be limited access and secure as hell.”
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I prefer the word ‘risky’,” Johnson said with a smile.
One of the previous serums, PEF 05, had caused the firing they had hoped for, but the neurons stopped working after a few weeks. They had tried a second injection to see if they would fire again, but only the first dose had worked. It had appeared that the tissues had built up a resistance to PEF05, something they hadn’t counted on and were still stumped by. It was a temporary fix but they were, of course looking for permanent results. Blake had seen this before, multiple formulations until the right one finally makes its appearance. Eventually, a generation of PEF would do the same. At least, that was the hope they all shared.
PEF06 had seemed to work, though Doctor Benjamin Johnson had taken the rats to his office shortly after for his own observation against Blake’s argument about it being against regulations. The test subjects needed to be monitored by technicians, under the direct supervision of a veterinarian. Unfortunately, Johnson was not always noted for following regulations to the letter.
The PEF formulations were supposed to remain localized, staying in the area of repair long enough for the nerve cells to take off on their own. Once the neuron took over and the repair was permanent, the serum was supposed to dissolve away, leaving behind no traces except for a healed pathway, as if the nerve had never been damaged, to begin with.
No one other than Doctor Johnson
and Doctor Benson knew the full extent of the results of PEF07, since Williams had never fully briefed them on the final outcome. All they knew was that it didn’t work as anticipated and the results were somewhat disastrous.
“How long does Doctor Johnson expect it to take for the serum to produce results this time?” Blake asked.
“Not sure, but the formulation was given some new accelerators, so I am hoping to see something within a few days or so,” Williams said.
“That would be amazing. We really need a boost in funding. If we could show something positive with this, there would be no way the benefactors could say no.”
“That’s the hope,” Williams said hopefully. “I have a really good feeling about this one, though. We were so close with PEF05, so this has to be right. If not, it should be fixed in one more formulation. I really can’t see it taking more than that.”
“Nobody is worried about it going systemic at all, right?”
“Nope. It should still stay where we put it until it does the job and dissolves away.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Blake said under his breath.
At that moment, the door opened as Doctor Johnson entered the room with an anxious look upon his face. Benjamin Johnson, Ph.D. was a biochemist who had devoted most of his waking hours these past months to the serum they would be testing today. Johnson was one of the original scientists at NeurAx, starting out in the infancy stages on PEF01, which produced very few results. The results it did produce were weak and short-lived. His short temper had a way of making an appearance at the end of each formulation’ initial trials.
“Good morning, John. I see you started without me,” He said, appearing more excited than annoyed.