“It bit me on the ear,” Robert protested, “My ears are sensitive.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Charlie said, “because this shot goes in your arm.”
Charlie took the syringe and plunged it into Robert’s left arm.
“Just relax for a few minutes and let me know if you start to feel dizzy or anything,” Charlie said as he turned and picked up the second needle with a blue label and moved next to Ben.
“That wasn’t bad,” Robert said.
Charlie plunged the second needle into Ben’s arm.
“Piece of cake,” Ben said as he looked up at Charlie.
Charlie pulled the needle out of Ben’s arm and walked back to the equipment cart.
He picked up the needle with the red label and turned back to face the two men.
Robert and Ben were now both out cold.
The first shot was harmless, it’s only purpose was to knock them out cold, for as Eric put it, “Humanitarian reasons.”
It was the next shot that did the damage.
The exact damage was yet to be determined, but the best term for it that Charlie could think of for the moment was a living Hell.
Eric hadn’t told Charlie which man to give the second shot to, using the syringe with the red label.
Charlie had assumed that Eric felt that it didn’t matter who received the second shot.
But now it dawned on Charlie, that Eric had not specified which man was to get the second shot for a reason.
The reason was guilt.
For experimental purposes, it didn’t matter which man received the final shot.
However, whoever chose the man to receive the final shot was sentencing that man to death. Maybe even worse, the man he chose not to receive the second shot, was being sentenced to possibly an even more gruesome death.
Making the choice, as he now thought about all the implications, was not as simple as he thought it was going to be.
Charlie tried to force out of his mind every conversation he had with each of the men.
Forget about the jokes they told him, the stories about their families, their favorite pets, their first girlfriends. He tried to forget about anything they had said that made them seem like regular people.
Charlie stood and looked at both the men, first at Ben, then at Robert.
Finally, he walked over to Ben.
The final deciding factor as to which man to choose was the fact that Ben was the closest.
“Well, Ben you are the lucky one to receive the next shot,” Charlie said quietly as he pushed the needle into Ben’s arm next to where he had given Ben the first shot. Then he added, “Honestly, neither of you can be considered the lucky one. But if it were me, I would want to be the man that gets this final shot.”
Charlie pulled out the needle and tossed it on the cart.
He then placed the electronic patches on the side of Robert and Ben’s heads, chests and arms that would transmit their heart rate, blood pressure and nervous system activity to the computer.
He removed his rubber gloves and tossed them next to the empty syringes.
He took one last look at the two unconscious men, grabbed the cart and pushed it out of the room.
He took a key out of his pocket and locked the door to the observation room.
He started to push the cart down the hall, but stopped after a few feet. Charlie turned and walked back to the door. He turned the handle and pulled on the door.
“It’s locked,” he thought to himself.
He then slid the three dead bolts into the locking position. He double checked the dead bolts. One was on the top of the door, one in the middle above the door knob and the last one was on the bottom of the door near the floor.
When he was reassured that the door was locked and it would be near impossible for anyone to get out of the room, he sighed, turned and walked away.
He tried to forget everything that had just taken place over the last half hour.
Chapter 10
Levi walked back to the bedroom.
“Is he asleep now?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah, finally,” Levi replied.
“I thought you were going to be in there with him all night,” Jamie said.
“It is three o’clock in the morning,” Levi yawned, “that’s pretty close to all night. Thank God the wedding isn’t until four tomorrow afternoon. Maybe I can still get some sleep.”
“That’s good for you.” Jamie growled, “but I have to get up early. I have to be over at Jamie #2’s place at 8:30 AM. They have a hairdresser and a beautician coming to do all the bridesmaids hair and makeup.”
“You can get some sleep when you get back,” Levi said.
“After getting my hair done how am I supposed to get some sleep?” Jamie shot back. “I’ll mess up my hair.”
“Don’t worry about your hair, no one is going to be looking at you,” Levi replied. “Everyone will be looking at the bride.”
“Well, you better be looking at me!” Jamie said.
“You know what I mean,” Levi replied.
Levi and Jamie arranged their pillows, laid their heads down and squirmed around to make themselves comfortable, hoping to finally get some sleep.
A moment later Jamie asked, “Do you think Logan is too young to get married?”
“A little late to ask that question now,” Levi laughed. When he stopped chuckling, he added, “No he isn’t too young to get married, he is twenty-six years old. He is older than we were when we got married.”
“I know, but Logan is different. I’m not sure he is as mature as we were when we got married,” Jamie added. “I’m not sure he really knows what he is doing.”
“You just feel that way because you’re his mother,” Levi replied. “Mothers are like that.”
“I don’t know, Levi,” Jamie continued. “I’m not sure he knows what he is doing.”
“Let me let you in on a little secret,” Levi said. “All guys at Logan’s age when they get married, don’t know what the hell they are doing, except for me that is. They usually only have one thing on their mind and you just have to hope the girl has a good head on her shoulders and everything works out alright.”
“Not my Logan,” Jamie gasped.
Levi laughed, “Yes your Logan. He can’t see past the stars in his eyes right now, but he is a good kid and Jamie seems like a smart girl. I think they are going to be alright.”
“I don’t think those are stars that Logan can’t see past,” Jamie said.
“Go to sleep Jamie,” Levi sighed into his pillow.
After about five minutes of quiet, Jamie asked another question.
“How did you get George to go to sleep?” Jamie asked. “Did you rub his tummy?”
“That didn’t work,” Levi said sounding half asleep. “I heated up some milk. After he drank the warm milk he fell right to sleep. I put him on one of the couch pillows he shredded and locked him in the shower. He shouldn’t get into any trouble for a while.”
Jamie sat up in bed, “You can’t give him warm milk. Milk makes him vomit.”
“It made him go to sleep,” Levi replied, “I don’t care if he vomits later, so long as he does it quietly and I can sleep.”
“If he is sick and throws up during the wedding, it is going to be your fault,” Jamie protested.
“Maybe we should do Logan and everyone else a favor and give George warm milk in the morning too,” Levi answered. “Having George in the wedding is going to be a disaster. It’s going to be like the Tasmanian Devil in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.”
Jamie chuckled.
“Now go to sleep before we wake him up,” Levi said.
Jamie chuckled again, “I can just see him now, walking down the aisle, snorting and vomiting.”
Levi had to laugh, “Snorting and vomiting is better than trying to rip all the bridesmaids dresses off.”
Jamie had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
“As much as you are enjoying that image, go to sleep. If you wake him up, it’s your turn to deal with all the snorting and vomiting tonight. Remember, you have to take a shower in that shower stall in the morning.”
“That’s not funny,” Jamie whispered.
Levi had just fallen asleep when he felt a jab in his side.
“What?” he whispered.
“What did you mean when you said all men, except for you?” Jamie whispered. “Are you saying that I….”
“Go to sleep Jamie,” Levi growled. “It’s 4:30 in the morning. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Levi rolled over and pulled the covers over his head and hoped she would forget about it.
He knew after he had made the statement about men, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to put things as he did.
He could see how Jamie might twist his statement into numerous meanings, none of which would be good for him.
He also knew, Jamie, as with most all women, would not forget. She would bring it up again tomorrow, next week or even next year.
He would have to carefully rethink what he had said and come up with a good response.
But he was too tired tonight.
He would find his way out of this in the morning.
Levi had just started to fall back asleep.
In between long relaxing breaths he heard it.
From behind the closed bathroom door, first he heard a snort and a soft grunt.
Then he heard gagging, followed by all hell breaking loose.
Chapter 11
Charlie walked back into the lab.
Eric was sitting at the computer, looking at the readouts from Robert and Ben’s monitors and jotting down some notes.
“That seemed to go well,” Eric said.
“Yeah, they were eager and willing to get on with their assignments,” Charlie replied. “I am beginning to see what you were saying about the feeling of doubt creeping into the back of your mind about our experiment.”
“You mean guilt,” Eric said.
“Yes, guilt,” Charlie admitted. “I honestly didn’t think it would affect me. Guess I was wrong.”
“Well, forget about it now. It’s done,” Eric added. “All we can do now is our job and use this situation to come up with some answers.”
“It’s still not too late for Robert,” Charlie said quietly.
“You and I both know it was over for all of them the day they were brought here,” Eric answered. “If not with us then at the hands of someone else. We have done everything as humanely as we could. So, let’s just do our job so everything hasn’t been for nothing. Robert’s part is very important. It will answer some very important questions, not everything, but enough to hopefully be able to make sense out of this thing.”
Charlie nodded. It hadn’t escaped him that it was only an hour ago, and it was him giving a pep talk to Eric. Now it was the other way around.
Charlie guessed he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t have some feeling of doubt or guilt about this project.
But feelings had no place in a scientific experiment.
In an experiment, only the facts and observations mattered.
He got up and walked over to his computer and sat down in his chair.
He needed to get back into scientist mode and put his feelings aside.
In the next two hours, his powers of observation and logic would need to be at their best.
Charlie only hoped that he would not have to repeat the events of today again.
“Any change in either of the men?” Charlie asked.
“Robert’s numbers are unchanged from the time of his injection,” Eric replied. “Ben’s numbers have been dropping steadily. Heart rate is down to twenty-seven. Blood pressure is down to forty over fifteen. Brain activity is almost none existent. His breathing is down to eight breaths per minute and his body temperature is about eighty, down from one hundred and ten five minutes ago.”
“This is happening fast,” Charlie said. “It took Joe Reynolds almost an hour to progress to this point.”
“I think it is because the biological agent has mutated slightly,” Eric replied. “I re-examined the first slides of the agent mixed with my blood cells and compared them to the cells from Joe Reynolds. There has been a dramatic change in the last half hour from the first test to the most recent slides.”
“Any evidence of the cells burning themselves out like we first thought?” Charlie asked.
“None,” Eric replied, “In fact some indices show they may actually be getting stronger as they mutate.”
“What would account for that?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know. We may learn more when we examine the cells of our two test subjects. It is my guess and only a guess that it is intentional, I am starting to believe that this recent mutation is programed into the agent,” Eric stated. “This experiment will confirm my theory as to what the purpose of the agent is and how it has been programed to carry out that purpose. I think we may also find that this mutation is an intentional programed action meant for self-preservation. In other words, to prevent anyone from developing an antidote or defense against the agent.”
“That is some heavy information,” Charlie said looking concerned. “Does that mean it may not be possible to defend ourselves against this biological agent?”
“Very possible,” Eric responded. “This could have been intended to be the doomsday weapon that everyone had considered nuclear weapons to be a few years back.
This would be even worse than nuclear weapons. It would take a whole lot of nukes to destroy the world. This weapon, if that is what it turns out to be and my theory is correct, would only take one drop to destroy civilization as we know it.”
Before Charlie could respond, the intercom sounded.
“Charlie, it’s the Air Force over at San Bernardino.”
Charlie hit the button on the intercom, “Thanks Dave.”
He picked up the phone and punched the flashing button on the phone for line one.
“Yes General,” Charlie said.
He listened for a minute.
“No, they didn’t come back here. We called you shortly after they left. We haven’t seen or heard from them since.”
Charlie listened for a few more minutes and then hung up.
“What was that about?” Eric asked. “Don’t tell me the Air Force lost Joe Reynolds?”
“They said about thirty minutes after their men left here, the base received a distress call from the driver. He said something about being attacked. That was all they could make out. He was just checking to see if they had somehow managed to come back to our lab,” Charlie said.
“Shit!” Eric said. But before he could say anything else, they were distracted by a crashing sound coming from the observation room.
They both looked in to the room through the two-way mirror.
“Ben fell off his cot,” Charlie stated.
Eric started to read off the information on his computer screen.
“Heart beat is down to one. No measurable blood pressure, no respiration, brain activity is an almost unmeasurable flutter.”
Eric finished with one final readout, “Time from normal stats to now, thirty-seven minutes. Almost twice as fast as those of Joe Reynolds.”
Both men stood at their desks to get a better view of what was going on inside the observation room.
Robert Johnson was still lying on his cot motionless.
The sedative he was given would begin to wear off in about twenty minutes, one hour from time of injection.
They could not see Ben as the cot was between Ben and their line of sight.
But as they watched, a dark gray hand rose from behind the cot.
A moment later a second gray hand slid up over the edge of the cot.
The hands griped the mattress on the cot and began to pull at the cot. Soon the cot began to tilt backwards.
They heard the crash as the cot tumbled over, falling on its sid
e.
Eric and Charlie watched as a gray hand again appeared over the side of the fallen cot.
The hand was soon followed by the top of Ben’s head.
His brown hair, streaked with patches of gray, was sticking up in all directions.
If Charlie didn’t know better, he would have thought that Ben had put his finger into an electrical outlet.
Next the dark gray skin on Ben’s forehead could be seen, as his head continued to rise over the side of the cot.
Charlie cringed when two milky white eyes came into view.
Eyes that were a kindly brown a half hour ago, when Charlie led Ben into the room.
Ben’s blood smeared right cheek appeared next. It looked like the skin had broken open and dark thick blood oozed out of the wound.
Charlie didn’t know if the wound was caused when Ben fell out of bed, or if the skin had just split open as his cells mutated.
Charlie forgot all about the wound on Ben’s cheek, when the rest of Ben’s face appeared above the cot.
A dark black red drool oozed out of Ben’s mouth, ran down his face and covered his chin as it dripped down onto his white jump suit.
They both watched as Ben struggled to his feet.
His gaze locked on the mirror in the room and never wavered as Ben slowly staggered towards the mirror.
When he reached the mirror, he raised his arms and began to pound against the glass.
“I know I asked this question when Joe was in the observation room, but do you have any idea if he is seeing his own reflection or does he sense us?” Charlie asked.
“After what happened when we tried to go into the room with Joe,” Eric replied, “I feel he somehow senses us in here. I don’t have any empirical data to support that, it’s just a gut feeling I have.”
Dead Man Walking Page 7
