Plague (30 page)

“Downstairs. They want to quarantine me in a room and they said I can’t see my family anymore. They said they’re gonna lock the doors.”

“They have to. You’re carrying something extremely dangerous inside you right now. The people here don’t even know how dangerous it is. Otherwise
,
you never would have had the opportunity to get away.”

“Please,” she begged,
“I have a fiancé. I just want to go home.”

“You look healthy enough to me. Were you in Hawaii recently?”

“Yes?”

“How did you get back to the mainland?” She didn’t say anything. “Don’t worry, I’m not the cops. I’m a doctor.”

“They were letting people in the
Army off
. I bought a uniform
and a fake ID
from this guy that was sellin’ ‘em and they let me get on one of the planes.”

“How many other people bought uniforms and
IDs
?”

“I don’t know. There were three other people with me. I don’t know how many others.”

Ralph nodded, melancholy on his face. “The will to survive. It never ceases to amaze me.”
He reached into his bag and came out with a syringe and bottle with a white
label. He stuck the needle through the rubber top of the bottle and pulled up an amber fluid.

“What’s that?” the girl said.

“It’s to help you relax. You’re frantic. Stress aggravates your condition.”

“I don’t want it.”

Ralph took a cotton ball out of the bag along with a
Band-Aid
and then approached her.

“I said I don’t want it.”

“You need it.”

“No I don’t. Get away from me.”

“Listen to me,” Ralph said, showing her his palms in a placating gesture
.
“
If
you don’t get this shot and sleep through the night, you will overwork your endocrine and cardiovascular systems. It could literally giv
e you a stroke
. We’ve seen it in other patients with your condition. I’m just going to give you the shot and then let the staff know where you are. They’ll take care of you. As soon as you’re better,
they’ll release you. I’ll see what I can do about your fiancé coming to visit you here.”

She didn’t speak or move. Her lip quivered a little and Ralph didn’t push it. He stood silently until she was ready.

“What’s in it?”

“It’s
Mebaral
. A sedative. You’ll feel like you’re slipping into a warm bath. It’ll be euphoric at first and then you’ll sleep like you’ve never slept before.”

She looked away a moment, and then held out her arm.

Ralph came over and wiped an
area just underneath her bicep with the cotton ball. She didn’t notice that he hadn’t used any antiseptic to clean the area; he wasn’t worried about her getting an infection.

He injected her and then withdrew, gently caressing her forearm
,
and he laid her back on the gurney and sat next to her. He held her hand; her breathing was slow and growing labored.

“I feel weird.”

“I know,” he said.

“Wait
…
wait
…
I don’t like
this. I don’t like this, Doctor
. Please stop it. It feels like my head is burning.”

“It is. It’s potassium. It’s slowly suffocating you and soon your heart will stop. People will think it was a natural death, probably brought on by Agent X.”

“No,” she said, her eyelids dipping and then opening again
.
“
No
. Ple
…
please.”

“I’m sorry. There’s no other way.”

“No,” she said, attempting to cry. “No no
…
please.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, gripping her hand tighter.

She wept for a few moments and he didn’t interrupt her. She looked up at him, their eyes locking. Ralph wanted to look away, but didn’t. There was a mea
sure of respect involved
.

“I have to tell you
somethin’
,” she said, her breathing growing difficult. “About the other people.”

“What is it?” She mumbled something. “I didn’t understand you.” There was more mumbling. Ralph hoped he hadn’t moved to soon; perhaps she had information that could help him track down the three others that had snuck off the island with her.

He leaned down close to her, staring into her eyes. They were blue, but he saw that they were growing dim and wondered if it was life leaving her body or the disease
eating away at her. The
edges of the whites of her eyes were dark black; blood was seeping into them. Soon, she would be blind.

“What is it, honey?”

It happened to
o
fast for him to notice.
She
seemed meek, mild mannered. Weakened from the disease and unable to defend herself. He hadn’t seen her coming.

He reached up and touched his face. The thick glob of black spit, mingled with her blood and mucus, dripped through his fingers. He jumped off the gurney as the girl laughed.

Ralph ran to the bathroom and ran the hot water. He splashed his face as much as he could, knowing the ooze had gotten into his eyes and onto his lips. The water burned him but he didn’t stop. He took soap and scrubbed his face until it was raw. Rummaging through the contents of a shelf, he found packaged iodine sponges and wiped his face before repeating the hot water and soap.

He was
n’t
sure how long or
how many times he repeated this
but it must have
been several dozen
because his face felt
like
it had been stuck in a furnace. He stood over the sink, panting, looking at his eyes in the mirror. Had it gone into his mouth? Or had it hit his forehead and dribbled down, missing the orifices of his face
and just dripping off his lips
?

He stepped out into the room. The woman lay still on the gurney. He walked over to her. Her eyes still had life in them, but she wasn’t breathing.
It’d be
six minutes
until
brain death. He wanted to reach out and slap her across the face. Instead, he sat down again next to her, and held her hand.

A few minutes later, he saw the light in her eyes fade and he closed her lids and said a prayer. He rose and took his bag and left the room, turning the lights off behind him.

CHAPTER 40

When Sam had thought of Iquitos, Peru, she had seen degraded huts about to fall onto the muddied floors they covered, swarms of mosquitos, meat hanging to dry on long ropes between trees. Instead, she saw a perfectly modest city with paved roads, plenty of apar
tment buildings
,
and red Spanish-
tile churches and government buildings that could have been found in many European countries.

The plane landed on a small airstrip outside the city and she watched the massive green trees and
lush grasslands that lay before her. There was another side to the city; shantytowns where the poor were huddled in the huts she had imagined. Some of the children were wearing little more than shorts, their feet hardened like clay from not possessing any shoes. As the
rented
cars with the young drivers pulled to a stop and they cli
mbed aboard, Sam stared at the
hovels. She could see families inside them, and not just nuclear families. Probably uncles, aunts, cousins
,
and grandparents. Many of the huts didn’t look like they were any larger than studio apartments.

She rode with Duncan and Agent Donner and they
wound
through the city streets, avoiding bicyclists and rickshaws and the occasional donkey hauling coffee beans or rice.
The
y
drove for what seemed like
an hour
and Agent Donner spoke to the driver in Spanish. The driver, suddenly, looked like he had seen a ghost.

“What’d you say?” Duncan asked.

“I told him that he shouldn’t push his hours up or we won’t use him again.”

Samantha said, “That’s all?”

“That’s all. Why?”

“He looks frightened.”

“They rely heavily on the tourists. They don’t want to piss anybody off and have me leave bad reviews all over the place.”

From there, it only took five minutes to get to the hotel. It was a baby-blue structure of
three stories and they parked at
the curb. The driver hopped out first and collected their bags, taking them inside. Agent Donner got out and stretched his back, inhaling a deep breath of the city air.

“You know,” he said, “even ten years ago the air here was crisp and refreshing. Like the air at the top of a mountain. It tastes like exhaust now. It’s a shame our species
had
to ruin that. We’ll miss it when it’s gone
,
I think.” He looked to a small café across the street. “I’m going to grab some lunch. Anyone care to join me?”

“I’m starving,” Duncan said.
He turned to Sam.
“You in?”

“No, I’m exhausted. I need to get some shut
-
eye.”

“Suit yourself. Come by if you change your mind.”

The two men walked acros
s the street as Sam watched
. Agent Donner never let his back relax; it was always straight, held stiff as if he were waiting for an inspection. She got the feeling that he was a man that never lost control.

She walked inside the hotel. She was going to ask the desk clerk in her bro
ken Spanish where her room was. B
ut he
already
held out a key that said 121 on it and she smiled and said, “Gracias,” before heading down the hallway.

Sam found room 121 and unlocked the door. A couple was
in the room,
laughing. They were dressing and it was such a surprise Sam didn’t say anything. They quickly put on their clothes and snuck past her, apologizing. She glanced to the bed and saw that it was messy.

She walked in and sat down on the couch, asleep before she could think about whether they had used the couch as well.

Duncan sat across from Agent Donner at a table that was set outside on a veranda. There were a few other people there, mostly tourists, and
they
sipped coffee and beer and ate snacks rather than large meals.

Agent Donner ate an odd smelling beef stew and drank
something
that smelled like paint thinner. Duncan watched him a while and Donner said, “What?” without looking up from his food.

“Nothing. I’ve just never seen someone eat somet
hing that smelled so bad with that
much gusto.”

“This is nothing.
In Ghana, t
here’s a large rodent that I still don’t know the name of. They barely cook it over a large spit and then slice of
f
pieces, fur and all, and if you don’t eat it with them, because food is so scarce and they’re extending their hospitality, they’ll never talk to you again.”

“What were you doing in Ghana?”

“Research.”

“On what?”

“Their water supply. Water’s privatized over there and warlords own it. You think Microsoft or Standard Oil
were
monopolies?
Y
ou should see a methed-up warlord with a machete try to keep his market share.”

Duncan took a sip of
coffee. It was so strong it made his nostrils burn. “You seem to have travelled a lot. Didn’t know the FBI paid for so many flights.”

“New world now. We’re not the former accountants in black suits anymore.”

“How long was your training in Quantico for?”

Duncan watched as Agent Donner wiped his lips with a napkin and then looked him in the eyes. “Twenty-one weeks. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. Seems like an interesting job to me. So what’d you do after Quantico?”

“I was in violent crime and then computer forensics before being transferred to terrorism after 9-11. If you’re so curious
,
you should apply
. The
bureau could always use good scientists.”

“No, I can barely stomach working for the government
as it is
. Don’t know how I’d feel if I
actually impacted people’s lives
.”

Agent Donner took a long sip of water and then placed the glass down
as if to signal that he was done with the conversation
. He looked at Duncan, their eyes locking. A grin came over his face
.
“We should go. You need some rest before we go trekking through the jungle together.”