The Virus (18 page)

The doctor sighed in
exasperation. “I need to run some tests on you and I don’t have
time for this at the moment,
Miss
Hanson
.” he hissed her
name, “If you will just cooperate with me, then we can get this
over with as soon as possible.”

It was more than apparent
to Delilah that she was wearing the doctor down, which was exactly
her intention, and she couldn’t have been happier (except, of
course, if she was immediately released from this place). She
smiled innocently and nodded slightly in intimation that she would
cooperate. The doctor, for his part, exited the room in great
strides (Delilah fancied to herself that his very steps were those
of defeat), and returned some time later, trailed by three of his
assistants—none of whom were the ones from earlier, not
surprisingly—each was carrying or pushing some kind of medical
apparatus. Once these pieces of equipment had been properly set up
in Delilah’s new room, the assistants left a second round of
medical equipment, then a third. By the time they were finished,
Delilah thought that she may have to undergo medical tests until
the Second Coming; and oddly enough, this was not far from the
doctor’s intention. The myriad of blood tests, stress tests,
disease screenings, more blood tests, etc., was indeed of paramount
importance, but by no means did all of them have to be performed in
a single day. Delilah had not grown an immunity to The Virus, she
just hadn’t contracted it, so synthesizing a cure from her blood
would be much more difficult than it would otherwise, but the
cure—if it could even be found—would certainly not be produced in a
day, a week, or even a single month, so performing all the these
arduous, painstaking tests at once was essentially
meaningless.

Unfortunately for Delilah,
the only purpose for doing things this way was to cause her as much
discomfort as possible. Of the many things she didn’t know about
this secret facility was that Dr. Crangler was not, as she had
assumed, the top ranking official here. He had superiors that he
had to answer to that Delilah would never lay eyes upon—some of the
same officials that had authorized her abduction, in fact. Now,
these officials knew (mainly because Dr. Crangler had explained it
to them), that the work to be done concerning Delilah was a
delicate endeavor. Delilah’s body had to be functioning completely
up to par for the doctor to be able to extract the kind of
biological samples he needed to possibly find a cure for The Virus.
That meant that Delilah had to be free of diseases, contaminants,
and other things, but it also meant that she could not be
excessively stressed, as the effects would be just as hazardous.
Unfortunately for Dr. Crangler, this meant that he could not vex
this terribly spoiled young woman like he desperately wanted to,
but it wasn’t to say that he couldn’t pursue other routes to annoy
her, and right now, one
other
route
was to run tests
on her until she was past exhaustion, and then run more tests. Of
course, if Delilah had known what was going on, she would’ve used
this information to her advantage, but she didn’t, so the doctor
used it to his.

He ran Delilah on a small
treadmill for a myriad of stress tests, drew blood until her arms
nearly looked like a heroin addict’s, and then ran her again. He
was as falsely polite to her as she had been to him as he connected
all manner of uncomfortably-cold leads to her torso and legs and
recorded the findings. He pricked her fingers, cut unnecessarily
long samples of her hair, forced her to pee in countless cups, and
all while, his attending assistants looked on with considerable
confusion. When he finally finished, five and a half grueling hours
later, Delilah was asleep nearly as soon as he informed her that
they were done for the day. After everyone had left, he looked at
Delilah, a little surprised at just how unprofessional he had been,
before leaving the room himself. He didn’t have much time to dwell
on the ugly facets of human nature because he still had to sort
through the results of the many tests he’d performed, and try to
make sense of them. After all, even though he and Delilah would
likely resume cold war combat as soon as she awoke, there was still
a virus to cure, and the destruction that was being wreaked above
ground would not wait.

Chapter 17

Days passed before Delilah
saw Dr. Crangler again and though there was a new set of assistants
assigned to her now, she soon managed to work them to her own
benefit as deftly as the last bunch. Not only did she get a few
more pieces of furniture in her room, but she also pressured the
new guys into getting her some new clothes and hair
accessories—
colorful
cloths and hair accessories. This was Delilah’s boldest move
yet and it wasn’t a great surprise to her that shortly after her
newly-acquired things showed up, so did Dr. Crangler. The
assistants were still in Delilah’s room setting up her new things
when he arrived. She was trying to convince one of them to give her
an amateur foot massage when the locking mechanism of her door
unlatched and the doctor roared in.

“I want Miss Hanson moved
to another room and everything cleared out of this one right now!”
the doctor bellowed. “I specified at the briefing that there was to
be nothing of color placed into her room unless I approved it
personally!” The doctor’s fists were clenched and trembling, his
face was flushed, and his words came in angry gasps.

“But you said not to
disturb you for any reason, you said…” one of the assistants
began.

“Damn it all!” shouted the
doctor, “I don’t care what I told you. I said no color in this
room!” The assistants traded confused glances. Looking at how
similar the bewilderment was on each of their faces, Delilah had a
nearly overpowering urge to burst out in hysterical laughter. It
was always a great joy for her to be reminded that she had the
ability to put men into such great disarray. Meanwhile, the doctor
continued, “Now move Miss Hanson to another room and clear this one
out immediately!” The two disorientated subordinates struggled
nearly in vain not to stumble over one another as one headed for a
piece of Delilah’s furniture to drag it out, and the other for
Delilah. Delilah had been enjoying the chaotic scene, but now, she
sprang into action. Rising to her feet in one swift movement, she
held her arms out in front of her in intimation that she wasn’t
going anywhere.

“Hey, Hey! Stop right
there!” she yelled so loudly that everyone in the room, the doctor
included, was startled motionless. “I already told you, Dr.
Crangler, I’m not going back to that room or any other one. Now,
I’ve been trapped here long enough without anything but white walls
to look at. I’m not a barbarian, I’m a woman. And if you expect me
to cooperate with you so you can get whatever it is you’re trying
to get from me, then I’m going to have some things.” With this
heated declaration, the battle between the doctor and Delilah was
brought to an undeniable head. She had waited long and worked hard
to secure the things that now populated the room, and the thought
of having to be taken backward so easily was more than she could
take. A year ago, these clothes (they weren’t even designer for
goodness sake!), these pieces of furniture, the girlie hair things,
all of it would’ve been little more than an insult to her routinely
pampered palate, but now… Well, now, after all she’d been through,
and living in the confines of a place so completely devoid of style
and excitement, these things actually meant something.

“Miss Hanson, I will have
you sedated if you refuse…” began the doctor.

“I
dare
you!”
Delilah squealed. The gloves were off, the games were over, and
Delilah was completely swept away in frustration that had been
building up inside her since this whole Virus nonsense began.
“I
double
dare
you!” The words themselves could’ve been shouted by a child, but
the tone and fierce determination that accompanied them were
anything but. “That’s right, I heard one of the
other
asshole doctors say that you
couldn’t sedate me again. You need to get this vaccine or whatever
from my blood, and if my blood is loaded with a bunch of drugs,
then it’s no good. You need me, whether you like it or not, and I’m
not cooperating one damn bit if I have to sit in a room all day
alone with nothing and no one to look at but you and your flunkies.
Do you understand me?” Delilah was at fever pitch now. She didn’t
know if she was helping or hurting her cause, but it didn’t even
matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was that she had had
enough of the ‘white treatment’ and if life was going to be hell
for her, then she would damn well make sure it was the same for the
doctor as well.

“And another thing.”
Delilah continued erratically, “I want to get out of here and see
the outside. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but if you don’t
let me out of this place for a while, I’m gonna go crazy. And if I
go crazy, I’m gonna make damn sure that I take somebody with me.
And why the hell can’t I get more than one fucking station on the
television or the radio? And I want some more clothes! And why the
hell can’t I call my father?” Delilah was delirious with anger, her
arms flailing in every direction and her squeals brought to an ear
piercing crescendo. With every protestation, she moved closer to
the doctor, so much so that he was actually concerned for his
physical safety. Fortunately for him, her outburst exhausted all
her energy before she could cause him bodily harm. Now, she stood
just before him, her eyes wild and angry, and her delicate breasts
heaving for precious breath. It was clear on her face that she had
many more angry ultimatums to shower upon the doctor, but not the
energy or the breath to demand them. The doctor was again struck
dumb. He had expected Delilah to be discontent with his decision to
remove her and her newly-acquired things from the room, but he
certainly had not expected how spirited that discontent would
be.

Meanwhile, the assistants
had wisely vacated the room and reported back to Operations, some
time ago. Now, one of them returned, and upon entering the room,
whispered something into the doctor’s ear. The doctor and Delilah
were standing in the same position with the same expressions as
before, but now, with the assistant whispering in his ear, the
doctor’s face assumed a series of expressions, something like
varying degrees of realization, until at last, a mysterious and
mischievous smile alighted on his lips. This smile widened as the
assistant continued whispering and, by the time the assistant
exited the room again, the doctor’s face was completely different.
His smile was broad, stretching his lips against his teeth and
bunching his cheeks together in deep ridges, the light in his eyes
twinkled, and his posture was more relaxed. Much more.

“You
know, Miss Hanson,” began the doctor, after some contemplation. The
mirth with which he uttered Delilah’s name warned her that somehow
the tides had changed—and not in her favor. “I think you may have a
point. Perhaps it
is
time we give you a few more privileges. After
all, you
are
vitally important aren’t you? And we can’t have our VIPs
feeling like prisoners can we?” Delilah didn’t like the catch in
his voice. “So,” the doctor continued, “not only can you keep all
your things, but I’m going to have one of our mirror trucks
summoned immediately, and you’re going to get a nice, long, scenic
ride out. I’ll even see if I can get you out of the compound and
into the countryside for a while. How does that sound, Miss
Hanson?”

Delilah squinted at the
doctor. “And what’s the catch?”

“Oh, no
catch, Miss Hanson,” answered the doctor, as he turned to leave. He
turned back just before he reached the door. “Well, perhaps there
is one little catch.” “You see, Miss Hanson,” Dr. Crangler resumed,
“according to our findings, we believe we can indeed synthesize a
permanent cure for The Virus from your blood, just not your
present
blood. To
produce a cure for this unique pandemic, we need a particular type
of stem cell, a type of stem cell which your body would only help
produce only under certain circumstances...a type of stem cell
found in umbilical cord blood.”

The look on Dr. Crangler’s
face suggested that he just said something profound and was
expecting a livid response from Delilah, but she had no idea what
he was talking about. “I don’t understand.” She said, shaking her
head.

“Miss Hanson,” said Dr.
Crangler, “in order for us to synthesize a cure, you’re going to
have to get pregnant.”

Chapter 18

The cry Delilah released
upon being informed that she was be impregnated and experience the
untold horror of child bearing, was excessively loud, long, and
intoned. Just as Dr. Crangler had promised, she would briefly be
released from her current confines via a scenic ride in the
countryside, but it would not be a ride that she could enjoy fully,
not with her mind occupied as it was with the information she
recently received. This was precisely the doctor’s plan. He knew
that a former ardent socialite like Delilah would not see pregnancy
as the blessing that it was, and that furthermore, it would dampen
her spirits no matter what unorthodox privileges she wrangled from
him. With Delilah finally understanding the considerable power she
wielded, even in this place, this was the doctor’s ace in the
hole—his
only
ace
in the hole—and he was certainly not going to let it go
unused.