Pipe Dreams (9 page)

CHAPTER 17

After Bowen’s car was out
of sight, Isaac slipped into the alley behind his modest Brownstone, turned right, and followed the narrow path between buildings until he arrived at the abandoned bakery. He reached inside a broken window and pulled a string to unlock the heavy door.

Pushing it open, he eased into the black interior and made his way from memory to the staircase. The climb was laborious and his heart pounded with every step. At the fifth floor landing, he bent over the railing, heaving. Then he turned
and followed the corridor to a small utility closet at the far end.

He removed
a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. With probing fingers, he felt along the edge of a metal shelf until he grasped the item he wanted. Finally, he closed the door and sat down with his back against it. When his breathing returned to normal, he opened the case, inserted the freshly charged battery, and pressed a button on the object in his hand. The satellite phone’s tiny screen illuminated the darkness. Isaac punched the number he knew by heart and waited. When his call was answered, he spoke.

Though the voice on the other end of the line pressed for details, he didn
’t elaborate. It was difficult to betray his lifelong friends and he grieved for what had been lost. He had never wanted the Design to be what it had become, but he had sworn allegiance to it. His heart conflicted, his explanation was brief. The airborne version of Priscilla would soon be released. Capable of genetically modifying all who remained unvaccinated, it would change the world forever by eradicating greed, ambition, pride, lust, and every other known behavior that contributed to strife. Using a global network already in place, the designers were preparing to shepherd a new flock of innocents. Those infected would pass the mutation to their children. He finished speaking, turned off the device, and cradled it in his lap.

He sat for a long time, caught in a tangle of emotions too complex to unravel. In the beginning, the cause had been worthy of his highest endeavor. Then the early tests had gone wrong. The designers had moved too quickly and the effects of their meddling had proved irreversible.
He had personally witnessed the devastation some of their mistakes had caused and had resigned from his beloved temple to seek refuge in retirement. Part of him still prayed for the Design’s success. The other part wished he could stop it. If young people like Vanessa and Michael lost their spark, fight, and independence, what was the point? The effects of the genetic modification were worse than the ills they sought to eradicate. Priscilla 279 would be death to everything that made mankind worth saving.

When his aching bones finally demanded movement, Isaac struggled to his feet and shuffled out the door.
He locked it behind him, pulled himself down the stairs, and out of the bakery. Instead of returning home, he continued to the cell’s sanctuary. Isaac would make sure Vanessa was truly safe. He could not live with himself if she were raped again.

At the Gate, his soft whistle was instantly returned, signaling the all clear for him to enter. He sidled into the crack and counted his paces until he reached the basement door. Inside, Mariah greeted him.

“How did you know to come? Michael’s been asking, but we couldn’t spare anyone to send for you,” she said.

“What do you mean Michael
’s been asking?  Where is he?  If he wanted to see me, why didn’t he come himself?”

Mariah frowned. “I
’m sorry, Isaac. Since you’re here, I just assumed you knew. Michael’s had a serious accident. He’s in the infirmary.” 

“Can I go to him?”

“I’ll take you.” Mariah placed her hand on his arm. On the way, she explained the day’s events. Isaac withered under the weight of what he had done. To save a life, he had inadvertently compromised the well being of at least five others.

It was his curse. Every time he had tried to do the right thing, his actions brought unintended pain and events spiraled out of control. There was no such thing as a straight line, a pure heart, or a good deed. He had thought he knew the minds of men, but he only knew the carnival funhouse of his own desires. Deep in the maze, the distorted reflections mocked him. Who was he to save anyone? 

When Mariah parted the privacy curtains, Isaac couldn’t stop his eyes from welling. He shuffled across the room and took Michael’s hand in his.

“My dear, dear boy,” he said. “I am so sorry.” Michael did not respond and Isaac threw an inquisitive glance at Mariah.

“He’s been going in and out. He might not wake for awhile,” she whispered.

“May I sit with him?” 

“Of course.” Mariah pulled a chair close to the bed, helped Isaac into it, and left him alone. He was exhausted and his creaking bones ached. He trained his moist eyes on his young friend, noting the plaster cast, bruised head, and sallow complexion. He could not lose Michael now. Grief made him cold and his teeth chattered. He hugged himself, trying to squeeze the shivers away. Then he took Michael’s hand in both of his and prayed.

Eventually, his fervent mumbling ceased. He closed his eyes, dozing to the steady rise and fall of Michael
’s breathing. A little while later, Isaac jerked awake and bolted from his chair screaming, “Run, Michael! Take Vanessa and run!”  Then he grabbed his chest and fell to the floor. His legs twitched. A dark, wet stain appeared around the crotch of his pants. Deep in his own dreamless world, Michael did not stir and the rabbi died alone.

CHAPTER 18

V
anessa stood frozen in the
doorway. A few feet from her, Jeremy quivered with exhaustion and worry. Next to him were two sentries, tense and alert. Ramirez sat in a wooden backed chair, his arms loose at his sides. Overhead, a fluorescent light dangled from chains, casting the small, cinderblock room in unnatural light. The scene was unreal. As if encased in a plastic bubble, Vanessa could see, hear, and smell, but she could not feel.

Ramirez leapt from his chair, crying her name. Then he was holding her in a tight embrace. This she felt. His arms were strong and warm, his breath was hot against her cheek, and he smelled of sweat and dirt.

Jeremy yelled and the other men flew toward them. They grabbed Ramirez’s shirt and hauled him backward. Cool air rushed between their bodies and Vanessa shivered. Then Ramirez was on the floor with the men standing over him. He started to rise, but one of sentries stepped on his chest. Jeremy pointed the confiscated gun at Ramirez’s face.

“Don
’t!” Vanessa shouted, putting her body between Ramirez and the gun. “Don’t hurt him!  He hasn’t done anything!” Babbling, the words tumbled from her at a pace of their own. “He saved me. Don’t you understand? He saved me!  He tried to save the girl. Your Ashley. He went after her. And he came back. He came back for me. Jeremy, he’s good. I promise you, he’s good!”

Jeremy lowered the gun. “It
’s okay, Vanessa. We’re not going to hurt him.” He motioned to the guards and they stepped back. Ramirez climbed to his feet and sat heavily in the chair. The tension went out of the room like air out of a balloon.

She wiped away tears, turned to Ramirez, and touched his head. His hair, soft and bristly, was like the elk hide that had covered the floor of her father
’s study.

“You came back,” she said.

“I didn’t want to leave you. I had no choice.”

“Did you…”  Her voice trailed away. She did not want to know if Ashley was dead.

Ramirez’s face tightened. “If these people would stop fucking around, we might be able to get her back.” At his words, Jeremy’s chest sunk. “Talk,” he said. Ramirez shifted his eyes from Jeremy to Vanessa. She nodded and he relayed his adventure. Jeremy didn’t hesitate.

“Mark, bring Vanessa back to the basement and get Paul, Greg, and Jon. Ji
m, you and Ramirez come with me.” He started toward the door and stepped down hard on his injured foot, wincing in pain. Ramirez grabbed the crutches and thrust them at Jeremy.

“You can
’t come. You’ll slow us down too much,” Ramirez said. Jeremy raised a hand in protest and then dropped it.

“You
’re right. I’ll wait for you at the Gate.”

Mark took Vanessa
’s arm. Together, they hurried into the tunnel. In the basement, he called for the men and they came running. They grabbed baseball bats and pipes from an umbrella stand near the door and dashed away, leaving Vanessa by herself in the big, quiet room. Avoiding the curious stares of other cell members, she searched for a familiar face.

Mariah was in the kitchen, stirring something in a cup. Vanessa moved toward her, keeping her as a beacon while she wound her way across the living room. When she arrived, Mariah did not ask about the commotion. Instead, she focused on concerns of her own.

“I was going to bring Isaac some tea. Well, it’s not really tea, just water and spice, but it does the trick. Do you want to come?” she asked.

Vanessa
’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be her Isaac?  No, that was impossible. Isaac was at home, where he belonged. She accepted Mariah’s invitation, grateful for the distraction.

“Do me a favor and carry this. I want to bring a basin of water, too,” Mariah continued. After she had filled a large bowl with warm water and soap, Vanessa followed her through the curtains
at the rear of the enormous room. The tea smelled good and Vanessa relished its warmth in her hands.

At the infirmary, Mariah parted the long, white sheets with her backside and sidled through, careful not to spill the water. Vanessa was right behind her when she shouted, “
Oh my god!” Dropping the bowl, she ran. Michael lay on a cot at the end of the narrow, rectangular room. A man’s body was sprawled on the floor next to him. Wasting no time, Mariah dropped to her knees and put her ear against the man’s chest. She cursed then began CPR. At one point she pleaded, “Come on, Isaac!  Come on!” 

Rooted in place, Vanessa watched the scene from a distance. When Mariah collapsed on top of the man and sobbed, Vanessa took slow, cautious steps across the floor until she stood over them. The light in the room was dim, but the figure on the floor was unmistakable. The teacup Vanessa carried slipped from her hands and shattered. She fell to the floor and pressed her hands flat against the cold concrete. Like a dog howling at the moon, she cried, “No, Isaac. No. Please, Isaac. Please!” while unchecked tears streamed down her face.

When a groan broke through the din of Vanessa’s wails, Mariah raised herself from Isaac’s body. Michael was sitting up and groggily shaking his head. Mariah snatched a blanket off the floor and threw it over Isaac. Then she stood, placing her body between the two men. Vanessa’s chest heaved and her body shook. She could not contain her grief.

“Michael, hold still now. It
’s not good for you to be moving yet. I’ll be right back,” Mariah lowered herself and, meeting Vanessa’s eyes, hissed at her to be quiet.  Vanessa ignored her, intent on Isaac’s body and her own, imploding heart.

“Shut up!  Do you hear me? Shut up. You
’re not the only one hurting here,” Mariah said. Vanessa continued to howl until Mariah lifted a hand and slapped her face. Shocked, Vanessa’s sobs ceased.

“I mean it. Get yourself under control,” Mariah whispered before rising to attend Michael. Though trembling, Vanessa was quiet. She watched as Mariah stroked Michael
’s hair. Her love for him lit the room. In time, Michael slept and her low murmuring ceased. She turned to Vanessa and extended her hand. Vanessa took it, fearful her legs wouldn’t hold. Together, they returned to the kitchen where Mariah made more tea. Vanessa stirred hers with a spoon. The aromatic steam was pungent and slightly sweet.

“How did you know Isaac?” Mariah asked, taking the spoon and sinking onto a stool.

What could Vanessa tell her? That she loved him? Needed him? That he was larger than life? She had no words to describe what the rabbi had meant to her and doubted Mariah would understand if she tried.

“He is, was, a family friend. I have known him my whole life,” Vanessa whispered. Her hollow heart had no room for loud noises. Suddenly, she needed to know why Isaac was here and not in his bed. He didn
’t belong here. This was not his world.

“What was he doing here?”

“He just came, like he knew Michael was asking for him. It was strange, but then this whole day had been strange,” Mariah said.

“How did he know Michael?”

“I’m not sure. I think they go way back.” Mariah paused, ashamed. “I’m sorry for slapping you, but I didn’t know what else to do. Michael needs rest. Isaac’s death might be more of a shock than he can bear right now.” 

They were still sitting when the door burst open and one of the sentries screamed Mariah
’s name. She whipped her head around, jumped off her stool, and followed the sentry into the tunnel. Vanessa caught up with them, threw her weight against the closing door, and stumbled into the small room she had been in before.

This time, the savage blond from the street sat in the chair. He was not as frightening under the fluorescent fixture, though the light colored his hair a sickly green. He groaned, jerking against the ropes that bound him.

Mariah eased behind him and put her fingers against his throat. Then she bent down to inspect his arms.

“How long has it been?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I would guess at least nine or ten hours,” Ramirez answered.

“Get him to the infirmary and tie him to a bed. Make sure he can
’t move. He’s in for a long night.”

As two of the men moved forward, Jeremy interjected, “Can
’t you just keep him here?  I don’t want the bastard inside.”

“Not if you want him to keep him breathing. He needs to be watched and re-hydrated. I can
’t do much for him, but if you’ll let me work, I think I can keep him alive,” Mariah said.

Jeremy stepped back and Mariah beckoned to the men. They grabbed the back of the chair, tipped it, and dragged it toward Vanessa. Jumping out the way, she held the door open while they pulled him through. Mariah rushed after them.

Jeremy and Ramirez shared a grim glance as Vanessa cried, “But what about Isaac?”

“What about him?”  Jeremy asked, raising his eyebrows.

“We have to get him off the floor!”

“Vanessa, you
’re not making any sense,” Ramirez said.

“Isaac
’s dead,” she choked. “He’s in the infirmary and he’s dead.” 

Ramirez bolted to her and took her in his arms. Behind them, Jeremy murmured, “Jesus Christ, will this day never end?”