Contain (17 page)

That day the dog attacked us, Harper
never even hesitated. He stepped right in front of me and lashed
out with his foot, landing a kick right on the dog's snout. That
thing turned tail and ran straight back into its yard, howling all
the while. We couldn't have been more than seven or eight, and that
dog was no little thing. It continued to bark like mad at us
afterward, that deep, throaty, growling bark. But from that day
onward, it didn't really scare us anymore.

I think that was the day my love for
Harper became a tangible thing, something I held onto and feared I
would lose forever if I ever stopped holding it.

But he's not here to protect me now.
All I have is me.

I head for the stairs. When I get
there, I know I'm out of sight of our door and the two men standing
outside of it, but I turn to check anyway, because it feels like
I'm being watched. But the hallway behind me is empty. Jonah is
apparently not in the mood to pursue and harass me, which is yet
another sign that the way things have recently developed has thrown
him off his game.

I step into the stairwell and descend,
but instead of heading three levels down, I go only two before
poking my head out and listening for voices. There are none. Down
here, the sound of the turbines is louder, thrumming through the
thick rock and concrete walls, seeping through the floor. I stick
to the shadows, pressed as close to the wall as possible and creep
down the corridor listening carefully. A chill rises from the damp
cement, a smell of dust and stone.

Dad had asked me to check in on Doc
Cavanaugh in the med bay. I could tell he's worried about Eddie.
And I don't mean just curious about his recovery, but concerned
about his condition. I can tell those things they found in Eddie's
blood has spooked him as much as they have me.

He has to be wondering what potential
they might have to do harm.

I place my ear against the doctor's
door and listen, but I don't hear a sound. Gently, I rap my
knuckles against the painted metal. “Doctor C? It's
Finn.”

I immediately hear her chair squeak
and the rustle of her feet as she approaches the door. As soon as
it opens, I push my way in. She shuts it behind me.

“
Did you hear?” I
ask.

“
About your father?” She
nods. “I stopped in to speak with Bren a little while ago, when I
took Hannah back up to her quarters to rest. She told me what
happened. It's terrible.”

“
Oh, Bren,” I
say.

“
Is there something going
on between you two? Because she was near tears. When I asked about
you, she completely broke down.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, and
it feels like a rock going down, hard and dry and unwilling. I feel
bad — of course I feel bad — but I don't have time to
think about that right now. “What do you think we should do?” I
ask. “About the stranger, I mean.”

Something flickers in her eyes, and
she shakes her head. She circles back to her desk and settles into
her chair, then motions me toward the other one.

“
I'm torn,” she says. “My
first instinct is to try and save him, to bring him inside.” She
exhales, long and slow, and her face betrays the troubling thoughts
in her mind. “Logically, however, I know the risks are too great.
He might be dangerous. Or worse. Bren says her father is working on
opening the door?”

I nod. “Mister Abramson is also
worried about contamination, so he'll probably stall as much as he
can. And considering he knows nothing about electronic door locks,
and neither does Rory, it shouldn't be too hard.”

Another flicker of something in her
eyes, something suggestive of doubt. Or suspicion.

“
What is it?” I
ask.

“
Your father asked Seth to
take another look at the microscope, see if there might be some way
to enhance the resolution. Of course, we didn't say anything to him
about the . . . .”

“
Spiders?”

“
Nano machines. That's what
your father's calling them. I'm not so sure I'm ready to accept
that they're tiny manmade robots, but . . . .”
She shrugs. “Anyway, Seth thought that, with recent developments
being what they are, we should return the security cam to its
place.”

I frown. “But that view from that
camera is useless.”

“
He said not having it
makes him feel blind.”

“
Well, he's just stressed,”
I say. “We all are.”

“
I agree, but I would think
that learning what we can about these nano machines should trump
another exterior view of the complex. At least for the short
term."

“
So, why not tell him why
you need the camera?”

But she shakes her head. “Your father
requested that we keep our little discovery to ourselves for the
time being, and I agree.”

“
Okay.”

“
As far as the stranger,
his arrival actually provides me with an opportunity to request
samples from everyone without raising suspicions.”

“
You want to test
everyone?”

She nods. “The more we know about
these things, the better. We still don't know their connection with
the Flense. If it turns out the stranger doesn't have them, then
that's information, too. But we need to be discreet about how we go
about doing it.”

“
Discreet isn't in Jack
Resnick's vocabulary,” I say. “He's threatening to force the doors
open if Mister Abramson can't override the security
lock.”

The doctor frowns as she shakes her
head. “That would be simply stupid.”

“
He's got enough support to
make him think otherwise. Jonah's been pushing everyone hard lately
to open the doors. He says it's time for us to leave the
bunker.”

“
Jonah gets his cues from
his father. I doubt it works in the opposite direction.”

I clench my fists. “I just wish I knew
what's gotten into them both.”

“
Cabin fever,” she
suggests. “Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken this long to happen.
Fear of what might be waiting for us outside has kept it in check,
but Eddie's accident may have been the breaking point. And since
it's been months since the last Wraith sighting, it just emboldens
folks to ignore the risks.”

“
Speaking of Eddie, how is
he?”

“
Awake. This morning, he
couldn't even speak. I just checked in on him a few minutes before
you arrived, and he was talking. He asked for Hannah and, stupidly,
I told her. She was very upset when I told her it wasn't a good
idea. I relented when it appeared she might cause a
fuss.”

“
Bren hinted that something
was going on with her earlier. Is she with him now?”

The doctor shakes her head. “I sent
her back to her quarters with a sedative after her
visit.”

“
Why?”

She doesn't answer at first. Finally,
she shakes her head and stands up. “I wanted to show your father,”
she says. “But since he's confined, it'll have to be you.” She
gestures toward the door.

Without another word, we make our way
down the hall. Once again, I find myself straining my sense of
hearing for any indication we're not alone down here. The pitch of
the turbines wavers momentarily, and my heart skips. But it resumes
its usual tone.

Doctor Cavanaugh leads us toward
Eddie's room, a finger to her lips and a glance around us, as if
she's also wary of being seen or heard. When we get to his door,
she leans in and whispers in my ear, “Brace yourself.”

She keys in the code for the room and
the door clicks. Her hand trembles slightly as she pushes it open,
and together we step inside.

The plastic sheeting covering the bed
flutters from the draft we make by entering. It's translucent and
yields only a vague suggestion of a presence on the bed. On the
floor in the corner is a loose heap of yellow fabric or
plastic.

The door clicks shut behind us, and I
realize how chilly and dimly lit the room is. Doctor Cavanaugh
notices me looking at the ceiling and she says she removed a couple
more of the light bulbs because Eddie had complained about the
glare.

“
And the
temperature?”

She shakes her head. “I blocked the
vents to minimize the possibility of infection. He's under
blankets.”

“
Is he asleep?”

“
Sedated.”

“
Why?”

She purses her lips, and her eyes scan
the plastic tent. “Because I was afraid he'd try to get up and
leave.”

“
He's able to
walk?”

In lieu of further explanation, she
steps hesitantly over to the bed and unhooks the plastic sheet from
where it dangles from the ceiling. Then, with a deep breath, she
begins to pull it off to the other side of the bed.

I don't move from my spot. I'm afraid
to get any closer.

The sheet slips over the hump of
Eddie's feet first. The weight of it begins to drag it down, and it
begins to slide faster over the other side. It clears his knees,
then his hips, before getting caught up on his folded hands beneath
the blankets. Doctor Cavanaugh pushes at it, once, twice, until it
resumes its slide.

I still haven't seen any skin. I'm
curious how it will look after being so badly damaged by the steam
downstairs.

His chest rises and falls as he
breathes.

The doctor circles around the other
side of the bed and gives me another look. I nod, once, quickly,
and she pulls the plastic fully away.

The gasp is out of me before I realize
it. I raise my hands to my mouth, stumble backwards into the door.
The hairless, pink thing on the bed barely resembles a human being.
The veins, so close to the surface of his new skin, glisten gray
and white. He looks like some kind of mutant science experiment
gone horribly wrong.

As if sensing our presence, two slits
where Eddie's eyes used to be slide open. He turns the thing that
is his head toward me, and, in a perfect replica of Eddie's voice,
he says,

“
Hello, Finn.”

Eddie's chuckle sounds wet and unhealthy, but the amusement in it
is crystal clear.

“
I'll take it from the
shocked look on
your
face, Finn, that mine looks about as alien to you as these do
to me.”

He pulls his hands out from underneath
the blankets and holds them up. The skin is a shade between pink
and white, and it's as smooth as fresh paint. When he spreads his
fingers the light shines through the thin webbing stretched between
them. Veins pulse just beneath the surface. I can almost see the
blood flowing through them, returning it to his heart and lungs to
be reoxygenated.

“
What the hell?”

He stretches out his right arm,
reaching for me.

When I step away, he chuckles again,
then tucks it back beneath the blanket. “Just kidding.”

I'm not amused.

“
The good doctor won't let
me see a mirror, but the look on your face tells me everything I
need to know.”

“
What? H-how?” I stammer,
turning to her.

“
I removed the bandages
this morning, and the damaged skin sloughed off,” she says. “It
was—”

“
It was like coming out of
a cocoon,” Eddie finishes.

My eyes flick to the pile on the floor
and I realize it isn't plastic, or even fabric, but skin. Lunch
rises in my gorge, threatening to gush from my mouth.

“
Ever have a really bad
sunburn?” Eddie asks me. “Ever have the skin just peel off in
sheets?”

“
How can you even joke
about this?”

“
What's the alternative,
Finn? My daughter is terrified of me, and—”

“
That's
why you had to sedate her,” I exclaim, turning
back to the doctor.

She nods. “I told you Eddie asked for
her. She was here when I began to unravel the first bandages. It
was a mistake.”

“
It was
my
mistake for demanding hat you do
it,” Eddie says.