Chapter Twenty-One #2

strolled o’er to Victor and Catriona’s bedchamber next door. He

rapped on the wooden thing and waited for an answer.

At last Catriona opened the door. “Brother,”

she said in way of greeting.

“Sister.” Lachlan grunted. “’Tis Victor I

came to see.”

“He’s working on his, uh, maxine.”

“’Tis a vaccine,” he sniffed with an air of

authority on the matter. “Vaccine.” He shooed her from the doorway.

“And I needs must see him.”

Catriona, dressed this day in a red bliaut

with matching ribbons woven into her ebony hair, moved out of his

way and gestured for him to enter. Lachlan did so and immediately

espied Victor. The mon was sitting at his bureau, his shirt off and

braies on. He glanced up, saw Lachlan, and pushed his spectacles up

the bridge of his nose. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“I dinna ken. ‘Tis what I came to ask you

aboot.”

“I’m working as fast as I can with the

resources at my disposal.”

Lachlan brought his brother-within-the-law

up to speed regarding Veronica’s suspicion aboot variables. After

learning what a variable was, he asked Victor for his thoughts on

the matter. “Leastways, I dinna ken if I should worry aboot my own

clan getting sick.”

“No,” Victor drawled, visibly thinking.

“Someone would have shown symptoms within a few days of my sister’s

arrival.” He frowned. “But she makes an excellent point. There has

to be something novel about the infected flesh that was on her when

she arrived here.”

“And that ‘twould be…?”

“I don’t know. Not yet.” A thought must have

struck him. “The only things that were different about that

particular infected flesh on her when she got here was, number one,

we burnt it down using pig fat and wool which the Campbells then

indirectly drank and, number two, it was, well, everywhere.” At

Lachlan’s raised brow he clarified, “It was the only time I ever

saw Veronica use a grenade to kill a pack of eaters.”

“Grenade?”

“The circle she threw at them that exploded.

It blew them to pieces.”

“So?”

“So maybe the explosion released too much of

the virus because of all the contaminated organs it tore apart.

That seems the less likely of the two explanations, though.” He

sighed. “Perhaps I should take a break from working on the vaccine

and travel to the Campbells to observe any changes that might be

going on. Watching them will give me more clues.”

“When do you wish to take our leave?”

Victor looked longingly at Catriona, but

eventually capitulated. “As soon as possible,” he said, looking

miserable.

Lachlan grunted, though he understood

Victor’s reticence. He would not want separated from his wife so

soon either. Leastways, Veronica would be trekking to the Campbells

with them so he dinna have to be. “Get ready,” he ordered. “We

leave within the hour.”

*****

Veronica wore her Matrix hellion

attire under her blue gown and black cloak, the satchel slung over

her left shoulder. Lachlan hoisted her up onto his stallion before

mounting it himself. She shivered, the first gigantic snowflakes of

winter cascading down from the heavens and covering the ground.

“Will the snow slow us down considerably?” she asked, already

dreading the long ride.

“Nay,” Lachlan returned. “’Tis still verra

light. Leastways, let us hope it stays that way.”

This was considered light here? If

that was the case she could only wonder what Highlanders considered

a heavy snowfall to be. She supposed she’d find out soon enough for

winter had absolutely arrived. Truthfully, she felt like a figurine

inside of a frosty snow globe.

She glanced at Victor as their party of five

set out. He was waving goodbye to Catriona who stood misty-eyed on

the castle’s steps waving back at him. She saw Finn roll his eyes

at the melodramatic scene, which caused Ramsay to chuckle.

“We shan’t be gone o’er long,” Finn said to

Victor. “You will survive the wee separation from your lady

wife.”

“Or mayhap he willna,” Ramsay grinned. “He

has the look of a condemned mon.”

Victor frowned at everyone’s amusement,

making the group laugh. Even Lachlan snorted. Her brother sighed

and shook his amber-curled hair so much the color of

Veronica’s.

It only took roughly three hours to get to

the Campbell stronghold despite the worsening weather. Euan and

James came out of the keep to greet their party, both men wearing

the Campbells’ signature red and green kilts. The Gunns were

quickly ushered in and taken to the great hall. After maids served

mead, bread, and stew, Euan shouted at them to leave the room with

all speed. It was apparent the old laird wanted no ears to overhear

their upcoming conversation. Lachlan got right down to

business.

“Have there been any changes?” her husband

inquired. “Anything Victor should ken?”

“Nay, not really,” Euan answered. He

grunted. “Though in truth I worry as I’ve heard naught else aboot

another with the icy fever.”

“We’ve burned down three huts. Our clan has

caught onto the fact that when the icy fever comes, we burn down

the stricken and their homes alike.” This from James. “Mayhap ‘tis

being hidden from us now.”

“Dinna you tell your people to ken that the

icy fever will kill them too if they grow sick with it?” Lachlan

asked.

“Aye, of course,” Euan returned. “I’ve been

as honest with my clan as I can without giving away o’er much.”

“What did you burn down the huts with?”

Victor questioned.

James looked at him as though he wasn’t

right in the mind. “With fire.”

“I know that,” Victor frowned. He was

uncharacteristically impatient, which Veronica presumed was due to

Catriona’s absence. “I mean, was it just fire or did you use

anything to fuel it?”

“Fuel it?”

“Something that would make the fire burn

faster. Like pig fat.”

“Oh.” James waved that away. “Nay. The snows

hadna started yet when we burned them down. ‘Twas fire to the

thatched roofs and no more.”

Victor inclined his head. “And now that the

snow has come? How will you burn the next home if someone else

comes down with the icy fever?”

James shrugged. He absently ran a hand over

his blond hair. “With pig fat I suppose.”

“Don’t,” Victor told him. “Not until I can

determine if it’s safe to use.”

Veronica expected Euan and James to question

her brother, but they didn’t. She hid a smile. Obviously, from the

three days he’d stayed here before, the men had grown accustomed to

Victor’s longwinded scientific explanations that just left a person

feeling more confused.

Both men held up their hands before Victor

could speak again. “Okay,” Euan and James said quickly and

simultaneously.

“What are we to use then?” Euan hesitantly

queried.

“Tar,” Victor announced. “Tar actually

possesses highly flammable—”

“We’ll use the tar,” Euan cut in on a

grumble.

Veronica tried not to smile, but she was

amused. She felt sorry for Victor. Her poor brother didn’t have

anyone in this era to geek out with.

*****

Euan and James joined Veronica, Lachlan, and

himself to go hut to hut checking on the Campbell clansmen and

clanswomen while Finn and Ramsay remained at the keep and enjoyed

mead with two of Euan’s best men. Truthfully, this was a job Victor

could have done with just Veronica’s help, but he knew better than

to gainsay the lairds or The Campbell’s heir apparent. There were

rules in this world and not contradicting a laird or his heir was

amongst them. Unfortunately, their party’s large number made

checking the huts a longer, more cumbersome task.

“We’ll never finish this in one day,” Victor

announced. “I have a feeling we’ll need to stay overnight.”

Veronica, he knew, had left her gown back at

the keep with Finn and Ramsay. Still draped in a heavy black cloak,

he doubted any villagers could see her Kalari clothing beneath it.

At least he hoped not. They certainly didn’t need to draw any more

attention to themselves.

The first huts they sought out belonged to

those who had previously gotten sick with hot fevers and recovered

from them. As he’d hoped, they were still well with no relapses or

worsening symptoms. Even old Fraser was looking fit and healthy for

a man of his advanced years. He took the time to show them the

coins he still had from Francia—France—and regaled them with a few

stories from his youth.

The inspection carried on from there, still

producing the exact results Victor had hoped for. The previously

sick clearly weren’t coming down with the icy fever, which meant a

natural immunity would be the result. Relief was the only

word he could think of to describe his current state.

Wearing scarves around their mouths and

noses, they checked several more homes. So far so good. Victor was

growing increasingly more reassured.

He stilled. Eyeing a hut situated between

two others that had been burnt down, he suspiciously suggested they

check that home next. “Just to be safe,” he murmured to the group.

“It seems odd that the sickness caused the huts on either side of

it to get burned down while that one still stands.”

Veronica knocked on the hut’s small door,

her satchel securely slung over her shoulder. She took out a gun

with a silencer as she and everyone else waited for the door to

open. It was eerily quiet inside. Nobody answered her knock. She

glanced back at Victor, looked at Lachlan, and proceeded to kick

the door in. She went inside first, the rest of them following

behind her.

At first, the hut appeared empty. It wasn’t

long before the group noticed a young woman lying on the ground,

apparently haven fallen from her humble straw bed. Her body limp

and white as a sheet, she looked quite dead. Seconds later, her

eyes flew open. Her neck twisted and she eyed their party.

Oh shit! Victor thought, his

heartbeat accelerating. Her eyes were that weird blue, her snarl

almost instantaneous. She jumped to her feet on a hiss and crouched

down, preparing to lunge. Lachlan instinctively drew his sword and

Veronica fired a gun directly at the infected woman’s forehead as

she sprang toward them. She fell mid-air, meeting her final

death.

“By the saints,” Euan breathed out.

“Aye,” Lachlan seconded. “’Tis nigh unto

difficult to accept.” He looked at Veronica. “Good work, wife.”

Veronica put the safety back on the gun and

pocketed it. “What do you want us to do, Victor?”

“Burn her and the hut down,” he said without

thinking. “No wait! Is there any exposed brain matter on the back

of her head?”

His sister shrugged. “There’s plenty of it

on the ground.”

He fumbled through his bag for a small jar

and a wooden tongue compressor. Victor walked over to where the

infected’s brain matter lay splattered. He squatted over it,

scooped some up with the compressor, and emptied the gray, bloody

stuff into the makeshift petri dish. He had been careful to keep as

much dirt away from the sample as possible. “Now you can burn

everything down,” he muttered from under the plaid as he stood back

up. “I’ll run tests on this when we get back home.”

“You heard him afore,” Euan said on a sigh

to his son. “Dinna use the pig fat when you set this hut

afire.”

Victor frowned. Of all the bags to leave

behind at Castle Cumhacht…

He wouldn’t have any answers until he could

get his hands on the AI scope he’d brought back through time with

him, which meant returning to Gunn land. He could only hope that

boiled pig fat was the unknown variable in the equation.

*****

‘Twas one matter to see an eater on Victor’s

AI scanner. ‘Twas another worry altogether to watch the dead come

back to life with murder and hunger in their inhuman eyes. Whilst

he had been ready to swing his sword, Veronica’s shooting stick had

been faster than his arm.

“So what do we do now?” Veronica asked him

after their group returned to the Campbell great hall and sat down

at its long table. “Leave tonight in the snow, leave in the morning

wherein we chance more snowfall, or stay another day and check the

remaining huts and risk even more snow?”

“We leave the soonest,” Lachlan announced.

“James can check the huts with Euan’s warriors. Victor is anxious

to take that…that…thing’s insides back to Castle

Cumhacht.”

“I am,” Victor concurred. “As quickly as

possible.”

“I hope it’s the pig fat,” his wife

muttered. “We have to get this under control while it’s still

manageable.”

“I dinna ken,” James admitted. “How could

pig fat be causing such evil?”

Victor launched into one of his lectures,

making Lachlan sigh in resignation. He carried on aboot variables

and things called AI theories. “So it’s not about the pig fat

itself,” his brother-within-the-law finished. “It’s about how the

boiled pig fat interacts with infected flesh when it comes into

contact with it. Hopefully, I pray, it will turn out to be that

interaction between infected flesh and boiled pig fat that caused

my sister’s tub water, uh, basin water, to become contaminated and

infect some of your clan.”

“And if it’s not?” Euan asked.

“Just pray it is.” Victor sighed.

“Otherwise, I’m back to needing to make a vaccine, which is harder

and will take much longer given what I have in this time to work

with.”

“How long until you ken the answer?” James

inquired.

Victor shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We should leave now,” Veronica piped in to

Lachlan’s relief. “The faster we get home, the faster my brother

will have an answer for you.”

“I’ll send a messenger,” Lachlan offered.

“The soonest.”

The old laird nodded. “My son and my men

will check the rest of the huts on the morrow,” he vowed on a sigh.

“Leastways, Godspeed in your travels. I await your messenger.”

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