16. 16
The sound echoed through the walls, guiding me to it.
I ran out of the room, across the lobby, and through the door across from the one I had just exited to find Elias’s blood on the floor.
There was too much. He had lost too much.
I froze there, staring at the blood, before I could pull myself away.
I followed the path he’d left, a blood trail getting weaker and weaker as I went.
The hall opened up into a grand, open space filled with medical equipment. It looked like an operating room for every ailment that might exist. Dentist’s chairs, gurneys, operating tables. . . Cages lined the walls in all sizes, large enough for humans to be stuffed into.
He lay there on the ground next to an operating table, face down.
I was by his side in an instant. “Elias?” I asked, trying to roll him over to see his face.
“I told you to leave. What are you doing here?” He grunted, the words fighting their way out through his teeth. He turned his head to face me, but remained on his stomach.
“And I told you I wasn’t going to leave you to die,” I said, my voice firm. “How bad is it?”
“Someone else is down here. He’ll be back in a few minutes. You have enough time to run.”
“Not without you,” I pleaded. “Let me help you up, we’ll go together.”
He resisted my help, pushing my hands away. “He got me, Cassie. You need to go back the way you came and out the front door.”
“What do you mean? He got you?” I asked. He couldn’t mean that.
“I’ll turn into one of them,” his voice shook. “Shoot me in the fucking head and leave. Please.”
“No.” I fell to my knees, not thinking, just acting. Trembling hands ripped open the cooler, snatching a dose of the vaccine. It was frigid, and I held it tight to warm it up. I only needed a minute or two for it to be warm enough to administer, right? I hadn’t given a vaccine before.
“The President needs that,” he said, trying to take the vial from my hands. “He’ll never leave you alone if you go out there empty handed.”
“There's plenty. I will not be able to live with myself if you die,” I retorted.
He looked at me for a moment, contemplating the words.
His eyes were bloodshot, the capillaries pushed to their limits.
I knew he understood. He’d been in a similar scenario, and had to be the sole survivor.
He never forgave himself for that, and if he cared about me at all, he wouldn’t subject me to that either. “Okay.”
We didn’t have much time.
“Cooperate,” I ordered. “Warm this up in your hands, I’m going to look at your shoulder.
” I gave him the vial, and he held onto it, rather than try to shove it back into the cooler.
He didn’t want to die, and he rotated his body so I could see his injury.
The wound wasn’t as deep as I thought it might be, but it would definitely need stitches, especially the flesh by his shoulder.
I took off the top layer I was wearing, and wrapped it tightly around his damaged arm.
It wasn’t great, but it would keep his blood from pouring out.
I pulled a syringe from the cooler, and retrieved the vaccine from Elias’s hands.
It was cold, but not frozen. Perfect. I filled the syringe slowly, checking for air bubbles.
I flicked it a few times, and decided that it was now or never.
I pulled his pants down a few inches, slammed the needle into his behind, and pressed down on the plunger.
“Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed, squirming. I backed away, tossing the needle to the side.
We’d completely skipped the testing and trial phase, and I could only hope that I wasn’t the reason he died right here on the floor. I never intended for him to be the guinea pig, but it was either this, or a much worse fate.
He began to heave, vomiting black bile onto the floor. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to get too close, worried that he might turn and attack me, but I felt helpless watching him writhe on the ground.
“I didn’t expect to meet you, Cassia,” said a new voice. I heard the stranger’s footsteps now, alerted to his presence. “You had your little science experiment, now isn’t it time for you to leave?”
I looked at him, unsure what to say. He dressed like I normally was, a long white pristine lab coat, black slacks and shirt. His dark hair was greased back, committing to his cartoonish appearance. “What do you want?” I asked.
He laughed. “What do any of us want? Money. Power.” He made a flicking motion with his hand. “I’d like you to leave, for starters.”
“I’ll leave if Elias can come with me,” I said, hoping to negotiate. I was still on my knees, not exactly an intimidating position.
“It’s too late for him,” he said. “He’ll be working for me soon.”
He didn’t see me give Elias the vaccine. “And you are?” I asked. I had to bide my time. If we talked long enough, Elias might be strong enough to shoot him between the eyes.
“Adrian Taylor,” Elias chimed in. His voice was rough, and he choked out the words.
Adrian tsked Elias. “Doctor Adrian Taylor, Elias. You know this,” he scolded. “You know better than that, or at least you will.” Dr. Fassi stood by Adrian’s side waiting for orders.
“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Taylor,” I said. “I am unfamiliar with your work. Is Dr. Fassi yours?”
“Oh yes,” he smiled. “It isn’t easy to manipulate the virus, but Fassi is a prime example of what hard work can get you.”
“Why?” I asked. “This can’t end well for you.
I don’t understand.” I didn’t know what I was thinking, really, but the questions poured out anyway.
He wouldn’t let me leave with Elias, that was for certain.
I’d have to kill him, though that seemed a lot easier than dealing with Dr. Fassi, who I hadn’t the slightest idea on how to incapacitate.
“I don’t care about your so-called vaccine,” he said, ignoring my question. His hand moved to his chin and fiddled with the facial hair there. “I can make more than you can stop. It’s not a problem.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” I said. “Letting us leave.” I wanted to beg, to plead on my knees, but a man capable of such chaos likely wouldn’t be moved by any emotional displays.
“I need him. He will do great things for me.”
“I’ve already given him the vaccine, he’s of no use to you,” I argued. I didn’t see the point in hiding the truth.
He laughed in my face, a cold, bitter cackle. “Then I’ll infect him with something else. Perhaps something. . . more experimental.”
“Over my dead body,” I said, standing, raising the magnum.
He snapped his fingers. “Anything for you, Cassia.”
Before I could pull the trigger, Dr. Fassi moved in front of him at the sound of his directive, machete at the ready in his hand. I could see Elias’s blood still on the blade.
I knew I couldn’t shoot his head, we’d wasted ammunition on him earlier, watching it fly across the room as it hit.
Parts of Dr. Fassi were still flesh, but he was covered in gore and the natural looking pieces of him blended into the new.
His eyes were vulnerable, but I didn’t trust my aim enough to hit such a small target.
Not from this distance. Not with this gun.
Adrian slinked back, preferring to watch from a distance. Elias had been disarmed, and I was being pursued by something much more dangerous.
Dr. Fassi charged at me, but in his new form, he wasn’t as quick. His movements were powerful, but they lacked agility, and he stumbled far more often than he had a steady step. Intent on staying alive, I used his instability to my advantage.
As he approached, he raised his weapon. I squatted, feet firmly on the ground, my right further forward then the left, and I rammed my body into his legs. He toppled forward, rolling over my back and heading straight for the floor. His machete clattered against the ground, but he held onto it.
I shot up, rocketing toward Dr. Fassi’s weapon.
Surprising him, I kicked it straight from his hand and ran to pick it up.
He was less frightening now, alone on the ground without his weapon.
He was so slow to stand, I had enough time to grab the machete and come back to him before he was even on his knees.
Standing behind him, I kicked him in the back, hoping to push him forward. He caught himself on his hand, but held the position for a moment, his head hanging down. I stepped to his side, raising the machete above my head, and brought it down hard on his neck.
It felt like I’d hit a baseball with the handle of the bat.
The machete bounced back in my hands, and I hardly held onto it, my hands and arms vibrating to the point of disorientation.
“His eyes,” groaned Elias. His voice caught my attention, and I turned my head to look at him.
He was crawling toward us now, still unable to stand.
I undid the holster on my thigh and tossed it to Elias, Glock included.
He fumbled the gun, not quite able to catch it, and it hit the floor near his face.
Pulling the gun from the holster, he inspected it, checking to see if it was loaded.
A hand gripped my ankle and pulled, and I fell forward, crying out as I tried to catch myself with my arm. I might have saved myself from breaking my nose, but it felt like I had broken my arm instead.
I was tugged backwards a second time, bringing me to my senses. I kicked wildly, hoping to free myself. Dr. Fassi’s hand stayed on my ankle, but I spun underneath him, my back on the ground, ankle bending the wrong way just enough to be uncomfortable but not painful.
He creeped toward me, holding me firmly in place. I raised the machete again, hoping to find soft tissue this time, but Dr. Fassi blocked the attack with his arm, and I lost my grip on the weapon. The force from the hit sent it flying out of both of our reaches.