Even The Dead Will Bleed

by Steven Ramirez

  “I don’t want us walking in with weapons,” Isaac said. His voice was stern. “These people are doing us a favor.”

  Though every instinct told me to go in packing, out of respect I decided to follow Isaac’s advice. We helped Sasha out and locked the motorhome. We would have to make our way around to the front entrance. It was after nine when we entered the vast lobby. A high, curved desk manned by two security guards stood against the wall. On either side were hallways that led to banks of elevators.

  The interior was simple. Huge modern paintings hung on the walls. And light streamed in through vast windows.

  Isaac approached the guard station and handed over his driver’s license. One of the guards typed something into his computer and gave Isaac a book to sign. After he had done that, the guard handed Isaac a visitor’s badge with a number on it.

  “I’ll need to see everyone else’s IDs as well,” the guard said.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that we’d need to show our IDs. I could give them my mine—it was a fake. But Vlad carried his real driver’s license. And Sasha had nothing.

  When Isaac saw the look on my face, he realized the dilemma and took out his cell phone. “I need to make a call,” he said.

  He stepped off to the side and spoke to someone in hushed tones. The guards continued looking us over suspiciously. When they got to me, I smiled like a feeb. Guards hate that. Isaac returned and spoke to the guards.

  “Someone’s coming down,” he said.

  A few moments later a man with chiseled features, wavy silver hair and a deep tan approached us. Smiling through professionally whitened teeth he extended his hand towards Isaac, who took it.

  “Dr. Fallow! So glad you made it.”

  “My pleasure. Dr. Zeles, these are my friends.”

  “Welcome,” the doctor said. “I’m Dr. Franklin Zeles.”

  Vlad, Sasha and I had declined to give our names. When we had finished shaking hands, Zeles went behind the desk, grabbed three more visitor badges and said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

  “Doctor?” one of the guards said. “Only one of them has signed in.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll contact your supervisor later and explain the situation.” Then to us, “Follow me.”

  Unhappy at being put in his place, the guard snatched back his sign-in book and glared at his partner.

  We rode an elevator up to the top floor and followed Zeles into a large corner office. Two of the walls were pure glass. The view was amazing—we could see all the way to the ocean where dark clouds were already rolling in.

  “Please sit,” he said, going behind his huge desk. “Can I offer anyone coffee?”

  “That would be great,” I said.

  After checking with the rest of us, the doctor pressed a button on a speaker phone and asked someone to bring our refreshments. Then we waited. In a few minutes, an assistant brought a tray with three coffees and an apple juice for Sasha. When she had dispensed the drinks and left the room, closing the door after her, the doctor leaned forward.

  “I want to begin the tests right away,” he said to Isaac.

  “Agreed. And I cannot stress enough the confidential nature of this situation. I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I told you that lives are at stake.”

  “I understand completely.”

  Over the past weeks and months I had developed a kind of radar about people. And I could usually tell whether someone was lying. As I watched Zeles, all I saw was a cipher. And that wasn’t good or bad. I decided to dig deeper.

  “Dr. Zeles, what kind of work do you do here?” I said.

  “Great question, um . . .”

  I hesitated. “It’s Dave.”

  “Dave. This is a research facility. We are a team of geneticists, chemists, biologists and immunologists. And we are focused on advanced research for the purpose of curing disease.”

  “I don’t mean to be difficult, but how will this kind of experience help the patient?”

  The room became very quiet. Zeles looked away, wearing a tight smile. Then he turned to Isaac for help.

  Isaac said, “Dave, we’re not sure they will be able to help. I thought it was worth a shot.”

  “Cool,” I said. “No more questions.”

  “And on that note,” Zeles said, getting to his feet, “why don’t we get started?”

  Sasha’s movements were halting, her expression intense. Being in a lab once more was getting to her. As we walked down a pleasant-looking hallway, she refused to let go of her brother’s hand. Vlad did his best to calm her, speaking soothingly to her in Russian.

  A female nurse was already waiting in Sasha’s private room, a hospital gown draped over her arm. The interior reminded me of a moderately priced hotel. The walls were painted pale blue. A window looked out over the vast lawn. In the center lay a rose garden where doctors stood, smoking and chatting. A hospital bed stood in the center of the room with a nightstand and decorative lamp on each side.

  “This must be the patient.” The nurse’s voice was pleasant, though it lacked warmth. “Doctor Fallow, once the patient is undressed, you can accompany us to the lab. And you other gentleman can wait in the lounge. But first I’m going to take her vital signs.”

  It felt strange leaving Sasha here alone. I didn’t trust anyone and wished I could stay. But since Isaac had vouched for this place, I had to let things unfold. Vlad hugged his sister. I squeezed her hand. Then we left.

  Vlad and I waited in a living room-type setting that featured cable TV, Xbox and a pool table. There was a kitchen next door, stocked with cold food and snacks.

  “How long?” Vlad said.

  “No clue. Isaac promised to join us for lunch. Maybe we’ll know more then.”

  “I was thinking about baby.”

  “You mean, the fact that you’re going to be an uncle?”

  He grinned self-consciously. “Baby is good. Family is good.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  I thought again of my lost child—the one I would never see. I didn’t know whether it had been a boy or a girl. Though she had died early on in her pregnancy, Holly had insisted it would be a girl. I wondered if in some twisted way God was trying to make amends by giving this strange child to Sasha.

  At around noon Isaac walked in, a preoccupied look on his face. He wore a white lab coat and was holding what looked like a medical chart.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  “Tests are proceeding. Dr. Zeles has personally taken charge. One of his team members is an immunologist, and he’s running various blood and urine tests. After lunch they’ll do a sonogram to see about the baby.”

  “And no idea yet about Sasha’s chances?”

  “Afraid not, Dave.”

  Zeles walked in, excited. “Isaac, we used that test kit you brought and have isolated the virus. My team is looking at it now. Why don’t we have lunch, then I can show you.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  True Colors

  Isaac and I ate lunch with Zeles and his team in the main dining room, a sprawling space with large windows, upscale furniture and a cook staff headed by a chef rumored to have been stolen from the Four Seasons Resort, located a few miles away. Vlad was absent—he’d insisted on eating with Sasha in her private room. The scientists sitting with us were excited, and I found it difficult to keep up.

  “We’ve never seen anything like this,” Zeles said. “Though the patient is infected, there are no signs of fever.”

  “That’s not all,” another scientist said—a tall, slight man in his late twenties with pale skin, curly black hair and brown eyes. “Her white blood cell count has not increased above what would be considered normal during pregnancy.”

  “This is Dr. Peter Asimov,” Zeles said. “He’s one of our best immunologists.”

  “Asimov,” I said. “That’s Russian, right?”

  “Yes. My family was originally from Russia, though I was born here.”

  “
So, the white blood cell count. What does that indicate?”

  Isaac turned to me. “It means, her body is not fighting the virus.”

  “And the baby?”

  Zeles knitted his brow. “The patient isn’t far enough along for an amniocentesis. And even if she were, it’s extremely invasive. There’s always a risk. We can’t even sample blood from the umbilical cord yet.”

  “So that means you have to wait for the baby to be born?”

  “Not necessarily,” Asimov said. “There are other tests we can perform on the mother’s blood. Since the baby’s DNA is also carried in her blood, there are some other things we can test for.”

  My cell phone vibrated. I pulled it out and recognized the number as Maritza’s. “Excuse me,” I said to the others and, getting up, I walked over to the massive windows that afforded a view of the lawn and trees. Outside, a wind had kicked up and the sky was beginning to darken.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I said into the burner.

  “David, are you alone?” Maritza sounded tense.

  “Sort of.”

  “Listen carefully. You need to get Sasha out of there.”

  “What? Why?”

  There was a long silence. Then she sighed. “Karen did some more research. It’s not looking good. Franklin Zeles is not who he seems.”

  I turned back to the table. Zeles had said something funny, making the others laugh. “What are you saying exactly?”

  “We think he’s connected to Walt Freeman.”

  I felt like someone had gut-kicked me. My skin turned cold and sweat beaded on my forehead. I lowered my voice even more. “How do you know?”

  Silence, followed by a rustling noise. The next thing I heard was Karen’s voice. “David, after you left this morning I decided to do some research on St. Lazarus. Honestly, I was just being curious—you know me. I wanted to see what kinds of research they had done in the past, you know, to see if they would really be able to help the Russian girl. At first everything was on the up-and-up. Then I began digging into Dr. Zeles. Did you know he used to work for Robbin-Sear at their headquarters in Virginia?”

  “What?”

  “And five years ago he took a new job. Guess where.”

  “Baseborn Identity Research.”

  “Bingo. Two years ago he took over as head of St. Lazarus.”

  “This can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Hardly. Last year he and Walt attended a hearing together in Washington, DC. Maritza and I are looking at a photo of them. They’re seated at a table, surrounded by lawyers. And guess who’s sitting next to Zeles.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Your friend Trower.”

  I had been hunched over my cell phone the entire time, speaking in hushed tones. When I straightened up and looked out the windows, I saw her—the angel. She was standing in the middle of the lawn, staring at me, her hair blowing in the rising wind. And then I knew.

  Someone was coming.

  “I have to go,” I said. “Listen, do me a favor. Find out everything you can about a Dr. Peter Asimov. He also works here.”

  “Will do.”

  “And tell Maritza not to worry.”

  “David? If these people are working with Walt Freeman, they will do whatever they can to keep Sasha there.”

  “I understand.”

  I disconnected and looked out the window again. The angel was gone. I turned to find Isaac standing next to me, looking concerned.

  “Everything all right?”

  I looked past him at our table. Everyone was in deep conversation. “Isaac, how do you know Dr. Zeles?”

  “I was introduced to him through a colleague in San Francisco. Why?”

  “We need to leave. Now.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to help this girl.”

  “It’s not safe here.”

  “Look, Dave. I realize you don’t know Dr. Zeles, but—”

  “He’s connected to Walt Freeman. I think he’s helping him get the girl back.”

  “That’s preposterous.”

  “Isaac, I know what I’m talking about!”

  I realized that I had raised my voice enough to attract the attention of Zeles. I tried to think how to do this. We needed to find Sasha and get her out of the building without attracting attention. Forcing a smile, I returned to the table with Isaac and took a seat. I noticed that Asimov was looking at me strangely.

  Zeles ignored me and directed his attention to Isaac. “Dr. Fallow, I’ve been brainstorming with the team.”

  Isaac seemed lost in thought. “Call me Isaac.” His voice was distant.

  “Alright, Isaac. I’d like to keep Sasha here overnight. You see, some of the tests will be exhausting for her, and I think it would be better if we spread them out.”

  “That sounds good, Dr. Zeles,” I said. “Isaac, we have to do whatever’s necessary to help the patient.”

  Catching on, Isaac smiled at the scientist. “Yes, I agree completely.”

  “Good.” Zeles sat back and smiled, obviously pleased. “I’m afraid we’re not exactly a hotel. But we do have a few rooms available for patients’ families. Peter, why don’t you show these gentlemen where they can stay? Then we can resume our work.”

  “Happy to,” Asimov said, getting to his feet.

  As we left the dining room, Zeles turned to me casually. “By the way, Dave, I meant to ask. Where’s your car? I want to make sure it doesn’t get towed.”

  “Oh, we took a shuttle here,” I said. “We didn’t really know the area, so . . .”

  “I see.”

  Zeles didn’t look like he was buying it. If his suspicions got any worse, all he would need to do is check in with the guards. Chances were they saw our motorhome approaching from the street and circling the building. I hoped he would be too busy with the lab work to care.

  As we followed Zeles to another wing, Isaac glanced at me with concern. It looked like Vlad and I would be needing those weapons after all.

  Halfway down the hallway Zeles stopped. “Peter will show you your rooms. Down that way. I’ll leave you here.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’d like to see our friend before we go to our rooms.”

  “Certainly. We’re not quite ready to begin the other tests. Peter, go ahead and take them over.” We watched as Zeles walked away hurriedly, followed by the rest of his team.

  “We’re this way,” Asimov said and started walking.

  We found Sasha resting on top of her bed. Vlad was sitting in a chair by the window. When we entered, he stood.

  “Vlad, this is Dr. Asimov,” I said.

  As Asimov came forward and extended his hand, Vlad hesitated, then took it. “You’re a Jew.”

  “Yes, I am.” He looked at Isaac and me. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Nyet. I knew many in Moscow.”

  “Some of your best friends, huh, Vlad?” I said, trying to break the tension.”

  Asimov shook it off. “So, how’s our patient holding up?” he said to Sasha.

  She looked away, a little angry. “I hate hospital.”

  Taking out a pen light, Asimov leaned over Sasha to examine her eyes. “I’ll tell you a secret. I hate them too.”

  When he was finished he smiled and gently brushed the hair from the Russian girl’s face. At first she tried to remove his hand, then she allowed him to finish. If I didn’t know better I would think that Sasha was developing a little girl crush.

  “We have to do a few more tests, I’m afraid,” Asimov said to her.

  “Der’mo! How long?”

  “Just overnight.”

  Vlad stepped forward. “We will stay with you.”

  My phone vibrated, and I took it out to check it and saw a text message from Maritza. Three words only—Asimov is clean.

  “I need to make preparations,” Asimov said. “A nurse will be here for Sasha in half an hour.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Isaac said.

&n
bsp; “Yeah, thanks.” I extended my hand to him, smiling. Nervous, he took it and, smiling at Sasha, left the room.

  Once we were alone, I shut the door. As the others watched with curiosity, I did a quick sweep of the room, looking for hidden microphones. Confident that we were not being monitored, I crossed to the bed and took Sasha’s hand. At first she tried pulling away—she was still angry with me. Then she squeezed back.

  “Sasha, we’re getting out of here,” I said. “Tonight.”

  “What happened?” Vlad said.

  “Zeles is working with Walt Freeman. This place is a trap.”

  Isaac was shaking his head. “I don’t believe it. Dr. Zeles is a respected researcher. Why would he be a part of some conspiracy?”

  “Let me ask you something. Did anyone here tell these people Sasha’s name?” Then to Sasha, “Did you?”

  “No.” The others shook their heads. “And neither did I. So why did Zeles refer to her as ‘Sasha’ at lunch?”

  “Come on, Dave,” Isaac said. “Obviously, one of us must have said her name.”

  “Karen saw a photo of him and Walt Freeman at a congressional hearing. Isaac, I know you don’t want to believe it, but it’s true.”

  “And the rest of team?” Vlad said.

  “The only thing we know for sure is that Asimov is not involved.”

  “What can we do?” the Russian girl said.

  “Isaac, since you’re working with these people, it’s best you stay with Sasha and keep an eye on things. Vlad and I need to make up some excuse to leave. We’ll wait in the motorhome till dark. Then you can let us back in with the weapons.”

  “Dave, I don’t like it,” Isaac said. “Innocent people could die.”

  “They already have, Isaac.”

  Vlad and I sat at the small dining room table inside the motorhome, checking and loading our weapons. The day/night shades were closed and the windshield curtains were drawn, preventing anyone from seeing inside. We had made a big show of going out the front, telling the guards that we had business and would return in the morning to pick up “the patient.” No one questioned us. As planned, Isaac remained behind with the Russian girl as the medical team continued running their tests.