Stillness

by Eldon Farrell

  Eric Lydekker

  Alexander Cummings

  Dr. Nikolai Markov???

  The fifth name is written in a darker shade of ink and was obviously added more recently. But it’s the fourth name that grabs both Lynne’s and Caleb’s attention.

  “That bastard,” Lynne hisses under her breath.

  “Why is Art’s name on that list?”

  Everyone turns to look at Mary who shrinks slightly from their gazes. “You know someone on this list?”

  Slowly she nods answering Caleb’s question. “Art Wellesley was married to my best friend before he split on her and his baby.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Around fifteen years ago.” Mary sneers contemptuously “He actually took out a classified ad in The Sound telling the whole town he was leaving. And after everything that Bea did for him too. Whatever he wanted her to do, she would do. She even got an amniocentesis just because the loser wanted her to.”

  “How old was she at the time?” Lynne asks.

  “Not old enough to need that procedure,” Mary answers “Of course he was a doctor and convinced her that it was necessary.” Shaking her head she adds, “I never would’ve let him put me under, I can tell you that much.”

  Lynne lowers her gaze in deep thought as something tickles at the back of her mind.

  Caleb looks directly at Jacob saying, “So this Wellesley shows up on a list of suspect names prepared by a dirty sheriff who had to have been involved in getting your charges dropped. He disappeared around the time that you made your deal with Mr. Anonymous and then has an ad published in your paper.

  “Any chance this guy was the stranger in the woods that day?”

  The room is silent for several moments as they all contemplate the possibility. Finally Lynne turns back to Mary asking, “Your friend, what’s her son’s name?”

  “Der—” Mary pauses in mid-sentence suddenly realizing something. “How do you know she had a son?”

  “His name’s Derek Rohm isn’t it?”

  “How did you…?”

  Reaching for her cell phone Lynne stands up saying, “You’re awake for an amniocentesis. Whatever your friend had I’m afraid it wasn’t an amnio.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Rushing from the house she turns back to Caleb saying, “I have to check something. Wait for me to get back to you before going after Cummings. There’s something I need to find out first.”

  Chapter 44

  The most horrible moments in this world—when they’re over and are looked at—come down to the simplest of things. They’re often defined by that one thing that you didn’t do, or maybe did do. When you look at them it’s always that one small detail that done differently would have made all the difference.

  A gentle rapping on the door wakes Angela up from a fitful sleep. Cringing from the pain in her ribs and face she stands up and moves gingerly towards the door.

  Lost in a painkiller induced haze she reaches out for the door and pulls it open. She doesn’t look through the peephole. She doesn’t pull back the curtain on the window to see who’s calling this late at night. She doesn’t ask who it is before unlocking and opening the door.

  “Trick or treat,” Donald spits the words out through clenched teeth as he slams the door open sending her toppling backwards.

  With his foot he hooks the door and quickly closes it again. With the curtains already pulled he now has no concern about witnesses.

  They’re alone.

  Angela gasps from a mixture of both fear and pain. Crawling on all fours she tries to reach the bathroom to get behind a locked door.

  She doesn’t make it. Fiery pain shoots through her scalp as her hair is grabbed from behind and violently twisted. She can feel it being ripped right out of her head as he yanks her to her feet.

  Facing him she can barely make out his vile face through her watering eyes.

  “Hello dear,” he hisses close to her ear, “You didn’t come home tonight.” Tightening his grip on her hair he elicits an involuntary cry from her. “I was worried.”

  Repulsed by being this close to him she sucks back her saliva and spits right in his face. With a roar he throws her to the side.

  She sprawls across the bed cracking her knee on the frame before landing on the mattress. He’s on top of her before she scrambles away. Through sore and swollen eyes she can still see him raise his fist high over her.

  The blow lands with a sickening squish and pop of flesh and blood. Stars flash in front of her retinas as another blow rains down on her bringing cold darkness with it.

  Before the final curtain descends though she feels his hideous fingers wrapping around her bruised throat—and squeezing.

  As the pressure increases she fades fast. But before her hyoid bone snaps and all air is stolen from her she manages one last word.

  Jaime.

  A mother’s last gasp for her child—then all is gone.

  How do they do it?

  It’s a question that Eric Lydekker has never asked himself in all the years he’s worked at the facility.

  Standing now looking through glass that is several inches thick he stares at the darkened laboratory. He can picture PhD’s and lab techs scurrying about the room much like their mice do in their cages.

  He’s not wondering what work is done in this lab. It’s never mattered to him what unnatural feats the facility can perform. Nor is he wondering about the horrors that they might unleash next.

  All he can think about as he stands there is the phone call he received and how it all started years ago right on the other side of this glass.

  The loose ends…

  Looking down at his pager he sees the number for The Voice and sneers. We wouldn’t be in this position if you had listened to me years ago. I warned you about leaving them breathing.

  Shaking his head he leaves the window behind and stalks off down the stainless steel corridor towards the elevator.

  Overhead harsh fluorescent lights flicker softly. Next to his footsteps, their buzzing is the loudest noise in the hallway at this late hour of the night.

  The air stinks of disinfectant and causes Eric to both twitch his nose and hurry his step. Once aboard the elevator he pushes the button for the fourth floor. As the lift rises swiftly he checks his image in the reflective surface of the sliding doors.

  Slowly rotating his head atop his large neck he listens to his bones crack and pop. It’s late and he’s stiff and tired and is not happy about this meeting. He swears he can almost see his hair turning gray before his eyes.

  A soft ping announces his arrival on the fourth floor and as the doors slide open he steps out into a wood finished hallway.

  No longer smelling the disinfectant that permeates every scientific level of the facility, he leisurely walks along the plush carpeting towards his meeting.

  Entering the foyer of an office he scans the room knowing that during normal hours an annoying assistant would be sitting at the mahogany desk manning the phones and keeping people away from the boss.

  Listening he can hear the clink of ice cubes followed by the slosh of liquid coming from the interior office. Moving silently across the thick carpeting he steps into the inner sanctum announcing his arrival, “You wanted to see me.”

  The chair behind the large oak desk is turned away from him hiding its occupant behind the chair’s tall leather back.

  Eric doesn’t need to see the man to know who he is. This office in the Chimera facility is reserved for only one man. He is known to his many informants simply as The Voice, but is known to Eric by his real name.

  Slowly swiveling around in his chair General Alex Cummings stares calmly at his associate. “Yes. Please have a seat Eric.”

  Lowering his large body into the velvet cushioned seat opposite the desk Eric waits for Alex to explain the purpose of this meeting.

  “The authorities have issued an arrest warrant for Kazim. They know about his involvement with Chimer
a.”

  “How do they know about Chimera?”

  “I told them,” Alex answers evenly. “Can I offer you a scotch Eric?”

  Eric is floored by this news. His lips gaping open like a fish out of water he stammers, “Why? Why would you do that? Are you nuts?”

  Shaking his head Alex answers, “You never could see the big picture could you Eric?”

  “The big picture?” Eric shouts skeptically.

  “Exactly,” Alex beams proudly, “This is why I hired Kazim in the first place. When you’re involved in what we’re involved in it’s always wise to have an escape plan. What better escape plan than having a Muslim fall guy? He’ll rot in Gitmo until he dies having never received a trial.”

  “But why now? Why offer him up now?”

  “It wouldn’t be much longer before we were found out. Already the CDC is certain the strain was created by USAMRIID trained geneticists. This way, attention is deflected away from us.”

  “But if they find him,” Eric insists “He’ll turn on us.”

  “And say what?” Alex clinks the ice cubes against the sides of his crystal glass before taking a sip of scotch. “He can say whatever he wants. He has no proof for what he does know—and I assure you that isn’t much.”

  “Are you certain of that? He’s been in the archives and has been asking questions of Tesla.”

  A thin smile creases his lips as Alex replies, “I’m sure. Kazim knows nothing that can hurt us.”

  “Well I’m glad that you’re so certain because I sure as hell am not.”

  Narrowing his eyes at his associate Alex asks, “What is it that has you so troubled?”

  “Kazim is not our only problem.”

  Alex raises his eyebrows waiting for Eric to elaborate. “I got a call from Anjou. The fucker’s been keeping a file on his dealings with us—just in case he needed it, he said.”

  “Why would he tell you this?”

  “Because he lost it.” Eric stiffens in his chair in response to Alex leaning forward. “His son broke into his safe and stole the file. It has names in it—yours and mine among others.”

  “How did he get our names?”

  “He’s apparently more resourceful than you thought. I warned you about leaving these loose ends out there. I told you they could unravel but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “Just find his son and get it back.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Eric explains “Anjou believes his son gave the file to Sullivan. Apparently Sullivan paid Anjou a visit tossing threats around about false autopsies and his involvement in them.

  “He said enough to convince Anjou that he’s seen his file. And you’re not going to like this but, he also said he’s been talking to Castle. All your loose ends are unraveling.”

  Leaning forward Eric points a threatening finger at Alex. “I’m not going down for this. This was your show all along. You’re the one who wanted to play it this way. You’re the one who wanted to leave the people who could hurt us alive. It wasn’t my choice.”

  “You’d have killed them?”

  “If I had we wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “Unexplained deaths create problems of their own Eric.” Alex murmurs “I’d have thought you learned that from the Sullivan’s.”

  “Don’t even,” Eric’s face contorts in an angry grimace “Don’t even try to blame that on me.”

  “Who arranged the accident?”

  “Who gave the order?”

  Smiling Alex says, “See, we’re in this together and don’t forget it.”

  Exhaling in a huff Eric leans back snarling “I told you it was a bad idea to keep Anjou and Castle around but you got off on being The Voice. You let your desire to fraternize with the sheep jeopardize everything.”

  His fingertips whiten as Alex squeezes the crystal glass tighter. His nostrils flare as his anger simmers, threatening to boil over. “We’re still all right. Anjou can’t have anything terribly implicating in his little file. He doesn’t know enough to implicate us in much.”

  “Now who’s not looking at the big picture,” Eric sneers. Ticking the points off on his fingers he continues “Sullivan can prove that his parents weren’t shot to death and I don’t trust Castle around him—if he talks…

  “Tesla has already been connected to the autopsy—he’s still alive and not exactly a pillar of loyalty. Now you’ve given up Kazim who’s been in contact with him. If the Feds catch Kazim and he talks, and if Sullivan goes to the Feds too, combined they’ll have enough to bury us.”

  Alex shoots him a silencing glare before swiveling in his chair and turning his back to Eric who in response to the silence asks, “What are we going to do?”

  Downing another gulp of scotch Alex sets the glass on the credenza behind his desk saying, “We’re going to take care of the problem.”

  Turning back around to face Eric he instructs him “Take out Sullivan and be sure that it cannot be traced back to us. Get me that file.”

  “My pleasure,” Eric grins “But what about the others?”

  “Let the Feds have Kazim, they need someone to blame for this outbreak and alone he has nothing that can hurt us. Tesla is safely in our custody and can be taken care of later if it’s necessary. I’ll handle Castle myself.”

  “And what about Anjou?”

  “Don’t worry about him.” His voice dripping with menace Alex promises “He’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough.”

  Chapter 45

  “Here, take this.”

  Kazim eyes the tiny brass key in Vladimir’s hand. Taking it he asks, “What’s this?”

  “A key to a lockbox that’s hidden beneath a false bottom of the lower desk drawer in my office. You’ll find a sworn affidavit inside it—my confession and your answers.”

  Pocketing the key he asks, “Why did you wait until now to show me this?”

  “You needed to discover certain things on your own first. Now that you’ve uncovered partial truths yourself you’re ready to see the whole truth.

  “But I warn you my friend, this secret was buried by powerful men who still have a stake in keeping it buried. If they know you possess this information they will stop at nothing to silence you.”

  “Why haven’t they silenced you?”

  Vladimir smiles a wry grin answering “Knowledge is power. After what happened to Arthur, the knowledge I possessed made me very important to them. They needed me to complete the work that he began. Had I completed it, they probably would’ve silenced me. As things are, they still might.”

  “No,” Kazim shakes his head promising “I’m the one who brought you back here and I promise I’ll get you out.”

  “Do not split your focus Kazim. Before you make promises you cannot keep, read the affidavit. After you’ve read my confession you can decide if I’m worthy of being saved.”

  Reaching out Vladimir pats him on the shoulder saying, “Did you think me innocent in all of this? I’m afraid Kazim that like you; I have not been on the side of angels.”

  “If this affidavit is incriminating to you, why give it to me?”

  “It is the sacrifice I must make to end this madness. If I must incriminate myself in order to bring down the house that Cummings built, then so be it.”

  Kazim nods and turns to leave when Vladimir tugs at his sleeve adding, “Be wary of him Kazim. Alexander Cummings is a wolf amongst sheep.”

  “Yeah well,” Kazim rubs his beard saying “I just happen to have a few tricks of my own.”

  “What will you do…?”

  The sound of a car driving past brings Kazim back to the present and out of the reverie of his memory. What will I do?

  Looking across the street he watches the quiet façade of the police station. How did it come to this?

  Vladimir’s words echo in his mind warning him that they will stop at nothing to keep their dirty little secret hidden.

  Glancing over at the passenger seat of his Explorer he looks at the affidavit that he r
emoved from Vladimir’s office. He’s read it twice now and still cannot believe the story that it tells.

  And yet somehow, he knows that it’s all true.

  Pinching his nose between his fingers he closes his eyes. The memory of hearing the news broadcast over the radio floods back to him.

  ‘This just in. The FBI is asking local residents for their help in locating Kazim El Said, whom they believe is responsible for the recent outbreak of disease in Stillness. He is about six feet tall with an athletic build, has several scars on his face, black hair, brown eyes, and a chinstrap beard. He is to be considered extremely dangerous.’

  He has no doubt that Cummings is behind it. This is how he will try to silence me—by turning me into a traitor and a murderer.

  Pursing his lips as he fingers his beard, Kazim knows exactly the game that Cummings is playing. Is it not the same tactic he employed against Markov?

  A tactic that is suited for the dead who cannot talk. Kazim smiles beneath his sharp nose. He knows I’m alive so he must still think I know nothing that can hurt him. I guess you’ll lose that one General.

  Grabbing the affidavit he leaps from the Explorer and begins to walk across the street. On the horizon he can see the darkness of the night lightening to a hue of purple as the dawn approaches.

  Narrowing his eyes he can also see high clouds forming. A storm is gathering.

  Stopping short of the police station he steadies his nerves. I may be innocent of what they are accusing me of, but I am not innocent. If I go through with this…

  Vladimir’s words return to him ‘If I must incriminate myself, then so be it.’

  Then so be it.

  Walking confidently into the lobby of the police station he stalks over to the front desk and before the young officer behind the desk can say anything he says, “My name is Kazim El Said. I am wanted for crimes against this country. I am here to turn myself in to the FBI.”

  The officer wouldn’t have looked any more startled if he had told him he was from another planet.

  Part Four: