Pestilence (13 page)

“Wait, Bart,” Pest called out, but Bart didn’t look back.

“Why won’t you just tell me? Don’t you trust me?”

Pest grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face him. “It has nothing to do with trusting you or not. These aren’t just my secrets to tell. They affect others as well, and I can’t talk. In addition, you don’t believe me. I know you think I’m completely crazy when I talk about the village I lived in, or all the things I’ve done throughout my life.” Checking his watch, Pest shook his head. “I can’t say anything right now. We need to get some clothes and head to Boston to catch a flight down to Washington.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t really want to agree to Pest’s suggestion, but he understood they didn’t have time to waste if they were to get to Washington as soon as possible. He went to the curb and flagged down a cab. After climbing in, he gave the driver his address and kept his gaze focused out of the window. Bart didn’t feel like talking to Pest.

As they rode in a thick air of silence, Bart wondered why learning the truth about Pest mattered so much to him. It wasn’t like they’d known each other forever, or even made a commitment to stay together after all this shit got straightened out. Yet ever since he had fallen into Pest’s arms in the clearing, his heart had seemed determined to make a play for the man.

Bart admitted he wanted to fuck Pest in the worst way. He wanted his cock buried so deep inside Pest, he wouldn’t know where Pest began and he ended. He was sure Pest would be hot and tight. He shifted in his seat when his erection pressed against his zipper. Pest inhaled, and Bart waited for him to say something, but the man stayed quiet like he knew Bart would jump all over anything he said.

The cab pulled up in front of Bart’s condo and Pest paid the man while Bart climbed out. While Pest packed his clothes, Bart called Kerry.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“We need a ride to the airport. We have to get down to D.C. a.s.a.p.” Bart turned to see Pest leaning against the wall, staring out the window.

“No problem. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Kerry hung up.

Bart tucked his phone in his pocket and went to pack his own bag. He carried it out into the living room and sat on the couch. Pest had his pouches sitting on the floor next to his own suitcase.

“What’s in the pouches anyway?”

“Some herbs I used on you while you were ill. I’m hoping they’ll help the others.” Pest looked at him with a smile.

“How are you going to get your pouches to Washington without security taking them at the airport? I’m pretty sure they’ll think they’re some kind of drug.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of that.” Pest didn’t turn to look at him, just kept staring out of the window.

“Fine. I assume it’s going to be the same way we got from Brazil to here,” Bart muttered.

“Yes, it’s the same way. I’ve already told you all this, yet you keep asking me questions like my answers are going to change. I’m doing my best to be honest with you.” Pest’s back tensed. “Why should I risk everything for you? Why can’t you let well enough alone and ignore what you don’t understand?”

“I wouldn’t be a very good teacher or scientist if I did that. How can I learn anything if I don’t ask about it?” Bart clenched his hands. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve been a font of information about things anyway.”

“I told you it isn’t just my story to tell. Others have been a part of it since I became what I am.”

“And what is that? All you’ve said is you were a doctor during the Bubonic Plague outbreak in the 1300s. I’m assuming by your name you were Italian, or is that not your real name?”

He gasped as Pest grabbed his shirt and yanked him to his feet.

“Aldo Bianchi is my real name. It’s the only thing beside this locket I’ve been allowed to keep since I killed myself all those centuries ago. You don’t get to question that.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Bart held up his hands in surrender.

Letting go of him, Pest took a deep breath before strolling past him toward the door. “Kerry’s here. We need to go.”

Bart grabbed his carry-on and stalked out of the door. He raced down the stairs and burst out onto the sidewalk. Anger simmered under his skin like he was on fire. He couldn’t tell if his fever had returned or if he really was that angry.

“I’ll ride in the back. You can sit up front and talk to Kerry,” Pest said. “Here.”

He handed Bart a travel mug of tea before he slipped into the backseat. Bart took it without arguing because he knew it would help with the fever. As frustrated as he was with Pest, he knew the man wouldn’t do anything to set back his recovery. He settled into the passenger seat and nodded at Kerry.

His friend chatted non-stop the entire way to the airport. Bart appreciated Kerry’s apparent disinterest in anyone else talking because Bart didn’t know what he would say, and he was afraid he’d start yelling at Pest. The issues going on between them were personal and Kerry didn’t deserve to get stuck in the middle. Bart could wait until they got to the hotel before he forced Pest to talk to him.

After getting to the airport and getting in line, Pest crouched down and opened his briefcase. Bart frowned when he realized Pest didn’t have the pouches of herbs.

“I forgot to give these to you back at the apartment. You’re going to need them.”

Taking the packet from Pest, he asked, “Where are the pouches?”

“I told you not to worry about those. They’ll probably be waiting for us when we get to D.C.” Pest stood and stepped up to the counter, handing the lady his passport.

Bart looked through the packet, his jaw dropping when he saw his passport, money, and driver’s license in there. “What the hell?”

How had Pest gotten his identification, considering Bart didn’t even know where they had gone after Jasper left with them? He handed his license to the airline lady, but glared at Pest, whose calm, blank gaze irritated Bart even more. Mark one more thing they would be discussing later on.

He sat close to the boarding door and dug through his packet. All his other papers taken when the others left him behind. How had Pest done that?

“Oh, these are yours as well.”

Looking over, he saw Pest holding out his research notebooks. He took them and let them drop in his lap.

“How the hell did you do this? I would have thought Jasper had them and would have used them as his own.” Bart ran his hand over the covers.

“He did have them, but we were able to relieve him of them. Or at least Death was able to get a hold of them. Don’t ask me how he did it. At times, it’s better not to question Death when he does things. Dr. Jones might not have gotten the chance to do so, and now that you have them, he won’t be questioning him. Dr. Jones probably won’t need them anyway. If we save him, you can consult with him on the paper you’re going to be writing.” Pest glanced up when their flight was announced. “We should go.”

“We’re going first class?” Bart gathered his stuff and got his boarding pass ready.

“When I have to travel like a mortal, I choose to do so in comfort. Coach isn’t very comfortable.”

Something in Pest’s tone alerted Bart to the fact the man wasn’t being arrogant or snobby about flying first class. The airline person swiped his boarding pass and he followed the flow of well-dressed businessmen. They got to their seats and settled in. The flight attendant came by to ask if they wanted something to drink. He requested water and Pest didn’t want anything.

Bart bumped Pest’s shoulder with his. “Something tells me you’re only traveling this way because of me.”

Pest’s smile was enigmatic. “You could be right.”

“If I wasn’t with you, would you use your horse to travel from here to Washington?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to give any of the other passengers a chance to eavesdrop.

“Yes.”

Pest rested his head back on the seat. Bart had got used to Pest’s sunglasses covering his unusual eyes.

“Is it annoying to wear those glasses all the time?” Bart nodded his thanks to the attendant for the bottle of water.

“At times, but it’s better than having to deal with people’s reaction to my eyes. When I must remove them, I tell people it’s a genetic mutation and most leave me alone after that.” Pest yawned. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. Why do you refresh your memory on what you found in the Basin? Dr. Kakkar will want to hear all about it when you get back from D.C.”

“Are you sure?”

Pest twisted slightly to look at Bart. “Am I sure about what?”

“That Kakkar will want to know what I found in the Amazon? That you’ll be able to cure Jasper and the others?” It was Bart’s turn to shrug. “Are you sure about anything?”

The smile he received from Pest was tender and full of understanding. “I’m sure Kakkar will want to know your news. It’s very intriguing and could possibly be a totally new discovery. As for curing Dr. Jones and the others, I can’t be sure of that at all. Only God knows for sure whether it’s their turn to die or not. To be honest, once I stopped practicing medicine, I stopped trying to heal people. The urge has always been there, but you are the first one I actively tried to help. Obviously there’s something about you that touches me.”

Bart inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment of Pest’s statements.

“As for being sure about anything, yes, I am sure tonight you will discover there are more things in the world than you ever believed possible. I’m not sure you’re ready to find those things out though.” Pest inhaled and tapped Bart’s hand with his fingers. “Try to rest. I called Dr. Darvi. He might have someone waiting for us at the airport, and we might not get to the hotel until late tonight.”

“I guess you’re right.” He blinked and realized his fever had disappeared. “The tea worked.”

“It always does. I’ve studied those particular plants for decades and they’re very powerful, plus the natives use them on themselves, or so they told me. Now you should close your eyes and try to sleep. The attendants will wake us up when we land.”

Bart took Pest’s advice. The tea helped soften the raging questions running through his head and allowed him to fall asleep quickly. The last thing he remembered was Pest covering him with a blanket so he didn’t get cold during the flight.

Chapter Seven

Pest stretched and glanced over to where Bart still napped. They were about ten minutes out of Ronald Reagan airport and he should wake the man up, but he loved watching him while he slept. All of Bart’s walls and defenses were down, plus he didn’t stare at Pest with a barely hidden look of distrust. Pest shook his head. It wasn’t distrust really, more like disbelief.

With a mental sigh, Pest reached over and touched Bart’s shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Bart, you need to wake up.”

Bart stirred, mumbling something under his breath.

“What?” Pest leaned forward, close enough to feel Bart’s breath brush his ear.

“Is Aldo Bianchi really your name?”

Sitting back in surprise, Pest met Bart’s sleep-filled eyes. There wasn’t any accusation or doubt in Bart’s gaze. The man seemed to simply be wondering out loud. Pest slowly nodded his head.

“We went over this already. It was once, but I rarely use it anymore. I am Pestilence now, and will remain so until the world comes to an end. I doubt I’ll ever be lucky enough to have someone take my place.”

Bart blinked and seemed a little surprised at the soft confession, considering how Pest had reacted the first time he asked, but Bart didn’t say anything else. He handed his blanket to Pest who folded it and they finished preparing to land. Pest set his briefcase on his lap and drummed his fingers on the leather. The sound was muffed because of two layers of leather.

When they landed, and the door opened, Pest exited the plane with Bart right behind him.

One step from the gate and a man approached them.

“Dr. Aldo Bianchi? Dr. Bartholomew Winston?”

Pest inclined his head, but didn’t offer to shake the man’s hand. “Yes. I’m Dr. Bianchi. This is Dr. Winston.”

“Dr. Darvi sent me. He hoped you wouldn’t be too fatigued from your flight and would be willing to come directly to Walter Reed. He’s very interested in meeting both of you.”

A sour smell drifted on the air from the man toward Pest. He wrinkled his nose and a memory hit his brain. Bart had had the same smell when he fell into Pest’s arms the first time they met.
Fuck!
It meant this man was infected with the virus and could possibly be spreading it to the other people around him.

Pest reached into his pocket and pulled out another pair of gloves. He handed them to Bart. “Put these on and make sure this man doesn’t touch anything else.”

“Why?”

It made Pest happy to see Bart tugging on the gloves without any real argument, even while he enquired about Pest’s reasoning. Pest stepped a few inches closer to Bart and leaned down.

“I think he might be infected with whatever you and the others got. He smells the same.”

“How are we going to get him out of here without endangering everyone even more?” Bart shot a quick glance around them, but didn’t show any signs of panicking.

“I have an idea, but you have to accept it without asking any questions until we get out.”

“Fine. I’ll just add it to the list of questions I have for you.”

Pest jerked his head once and reached out to grab the driver’s arm before taking Bart’s hand in his. What he planned on doing would take energy and would probably shock Bart almost to the point of rage, but Pest didn’t have any other idea how to keep the driver from spreading the virus further. Death was going to have his head for this.

“Pestilence, don’t do it.”

“Sorry, comrade. I have no choice.”

Closing his eyes, he swept the driver’s mind for where he’d left the car. It was one of the few times Pest was happy about the ability to read minds. He didn’t use it often, seeing the power as an invasion of privacy. Pest fixed those directions in his mind and focused his power. A sudden jerk and complete blackness engulfed them for a minute, then they stumbled as their feet hit concrete. He opened his eyes to find them standing beside the car.