The Serophim Breach (The Serophim Breach Series) (32 page)

With that, she headed for the elevator. As she waited, she felt her hands begin to tremble.
Stop it
, she told herself.
It’s much too early for symptoms.

Once inside the elevator and alone, she jabbed her thumb into the number “4” and began formulating her plan and explanation for Thad simultaneously. It would take some convincing, she knew, but he would have to see her injury and exposure as an opportunity. She certainly had to; it was the only thing keeping her from losing control.

The ding of the elevator snapped her out of her thoughts, and the doors slid open to reveal one of her younger residents standing in the hallway, his arms crossed protectively across his chest, his face pale. Surprised to see him, she checked the level indicator on the wall and saw that she was only at the third floor.

“Dr. Lau,” he said breathlessly, extending an arm to prevent the doors from closing. “I was just coming to find you.”

She nodded curtly, still trying to remember his name.
Kurt? Kirk?

“I’m heading up one floor. Ride with me?”

He stepped inside with her and let the doors slide shut.

“What can I do for you?” she asked simply, still unsure of his name.

He swallowed hard, his eyes on the floor.

“Well . . . we’ve been stitching up Justin and Maria, and then we had them both under observation for a few hours.”

Karen remembered her orderlies with a pang of guilt. It had been hours since Brandon had lashed out and bitten them, and she had completely forgotten the incident.

“How are they doing?” she asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Well, Justin has shown some . . . strange symptoms. About two hours ago he started shivering a lot. We wrapped him up, even put him under a thermal blanket, but it didn’t help. He started slurring his words, and then he didn’t respond at all anymore. We thought he might be having a stroke, so we ran him down for an fMRI.”

“And?”

He shook his head slowly. “We can’t explain it really. The scans show his brain function decreasing . . . almost like whole sections are shutting down. The amygdala is still active, but the blood flow is inconsistent. We’re not sure what that means. And the brainstem is showing signs of hyperactivity; everything else is . . . dark. We were almost through when he regained consciousness and started fighting the restraints.”

She was listening with half of her attention and setting pieces of the puzzle into place with the other. The elevator reached the fourth floor, and they stepped out automatically; she was briefly unnerved by the still-quiet hallway that contrasted so starkly with the ER. Walking next to her, the young resident checked her face for a reaction and continued.

“The rest of the images are too distorted to give us any certainty, but I think you should take a look at them. When we lined them up, it almost looks like whole areas of the brain are without blood flow . . . all the higher functions gone. Which matches with the nonsense he’s shouting, but not with his motor skills. I mean, by all accounts, he should be almost immobile.”

They were nearing Thad’s lab, and Karen knew she had to scrape the resident off for a while so she could brainstorm with her tech.

“Where is he now?” she asked curtly, pulling up short.

The resident tightened his arms across his chest.

“Um, we moved him back to his room and put him in restraints. He’s showing a tendency toward sudden, violent outbursts,” he said, his face blanching.

Warning bells sounded in Karen’s head, and she felt her eyes narrow. For the first time, she looked the resident over carefully and saw evidence of fingernail scratches where the backs of his hands were visible and on his neck. He had pulled his collar up to try and hide the marks.

“It’s Kurt, right?” she said, gambling.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded. His face colored slightly with pleasure; it was not often she called her residents by name.

“Were you hurt?” she continued bluntly, and the color drained back out of his face.

“Well, I . . . when we were moving him, he wasn’t . . . he didn’t really cooperate. I got a few scratches,” he stammered.

“Can you unfold your arms?” she pressed.

He was clearly hesitant, so she put on her kindest face, the one she used to coax children into receiving their IVs, and finally he dropped his arms to his sides. As he moved, she saw a bright red bloodstain on the inside of his sleeve, near his wrist.

Trying to keep her face soft, she asked, “What else happened?”

Quietly, he explained that as they had dragged Justin back to a bed, he had fought violently, kicking and scratching at their arms, the aggression escalating until he had eventually managed to knock them to the floor and sink his teeth into Kurt’s forearm.

“I got it cleaned up,” he said quickly, his voice tight. “I don’t even need stitches . . . he barely broke the skin.”

“I see,” she responded, thinking. Less than five minutes prior, she had instructed her ER nurse to restrain anyone who had been attacked or bitten, and now she was having trouble following her own protocol. It was nearly impossible not to feel sympathetic toward Kurt; he was fresh out of medical school, idealistic and kind to patients. And he looked scared. She swallowed her guilt forcefully and looked him in the eyes.

“Kurt, I need you to go see the ER nurse. I know you said you don’t need stitches, but I want you to get an antibiotic in your system. We’re also following a protocol for attack victims, just until we can get some sort of order imposed.”

He blinked rapidly a few times and licked his lips nervously.

“I’m sorry; I have to be consistent,” she said, moving back toward the elevator. He followed without protest, and she waited with him until the car arrived to take him down to the main floor.

“Please, Kurt, go straight to the nurse. I can’t go with you, but I’ll come check on you in a little while,” she said just before the doors closed. He smiled thinly, knowing full well her words were a platitude. Still, she gave him her best comforting smile as the elevator doors slid closed.

Once he was gone, she turned quickly, forgetting her ankle, which sent spires of burning pain rocketing up her leg. She limped the rest of the way back to Thad’s lab, her mind working feverishly.
More information is always helpful
, she told herself, trying to ignore the fact that it was also terrifying.

~

The rain drove down in sheets so thick it acted like fog, obscuring the streets ahead of them as they made their way toward the police station. Leading their small group, Kai walked slowly, hunched over slightly against the rain and cold, keeping to the darkest part of the shadows. He watched for street signs to keep them on the right path, while doing his best to keep an eye out for any movement besides their own. Once, when they were only a few blocks away from the gas station, he thought he saw motion, a hazy silhouette moving in the rain, but when he focused it had disappeared. They moved on, cautiously.

Jones’s teeth were chattering hard; he walked a step behind Kai, just visible in his peripheral vision. His arms were wrapped tightly around his torso as he trudged along, eyes on the sidewalk. The once-proud Mohawk now hung in tangles, the longest part dripping water onto Jones’s pallid face. Kai reached out and patted his friend reassuringly on the shoulder, slightly surprised when Jones jumped at the contact.

He looked up, his eyes disoriented and hazy, but then the sunny grin broke through and he chuckled. “Sorry. I was dreaming.”

Frowning, Kai looked at Paul, whose face was awash with concern. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but a nagging pull at the back of his brain told him he should keep a close eye on Jones. But he smiled at Paul reassuringly.

“We should be getting close,” he said in a low voice.

“I hope everyone’s okay,” Paul answered quietly.

A shiver ran up Kai’s spine; he had been working hard to ignore any doubts in his mind about Sarah’s safety. Repeatedly he told himself that she was with Mike, who would ensure that no harm came to his sister. But that lid only held for so long—eventually the fears would break loose and pervade his thoughts again until he could barely focus on anything but the urge to break into a run and get to the station. He held himself back with the reminder that neither Paul nor Jones would be able to keep up with him, and if they were separated, even by a few yards, they were infinitely more vulnerable to attack. And then he would return to the struggle to understand this strange new reality in which such considerations were necessary.

They came to a corner that required they move away from the shelter of the buildings and cross a street. Uncomfortable with the prospect of a dash across an open road, Kai scanned the area for other options. Finding none, he gathered his nerve and signaled to the others to follow. The rainwater gushed down the street in torrents, tugging at their feet as they splashed along, sapping their energy and calling attention to their movement. Bits of trash and glass whirled in the dark water that smelled of brine and asphalt. Once across, they huddled against the side of a building and watched for followers.

“Frickin’ rain,” Jones cursed and pushed his hair out of his face. He was panting hard as he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“You gonna be okay, man?” Paul questioned.

Jones just nodded, still winded. Kai frowned again—he was tired too, and the weight of his wet clothes was making it difficult to move efficiently. It was now well past the middle of the night, and the strain of all that had happened threatened to crash down at any moment, overwhelming what little energy he had left. But Jones looked completely exhausted, as if he had been up for a week straight, and a strange kind of fog was creeping into his eyes.

“Jones,” Kai said, turning to place both his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. Jones looked up, and Kai realized with a shock that he was crying.

“Something’s wrong,” Jones whispered, his chin quivering.

“What do you mean?” Kai pressed.

The younger man shook his head slowly, like he was trying to clear it, and brought his hands up to his temples.

“I feel like my brain is going soft,” he whimpered, his chin puckering as he held back tears. “Like I want to go to sleep, but not lie down . . . like I would keep going. But every time I try to say what I . . .” He groaned and pressed on his forehead. It was both a sound of frustration and fear.

Kai looked up at Paul, who was watching him with guarded eyes. He knew what his brother was thinking—the same realization had finally hit him. The way Jones moved, his speech, the look in his eyes—all reminded him of Brandon over the last few weeks.

Jones wiped his face and looked up at Kai with searching eyes.

“You think I . . . you think I got something, from that girl?” he stammered, his teeth chattering hard. “Whatever she had? Whatever made her . . .”

Kai searched for an answer, but before he could speak, Jones yanked himself away and stood back from them, eyes wide.

“It’s got to be, right? Whatever is turning people into maniacs, it’s contagious. That’s why they want us in evacuation centers, so they can monitor the spread. Oh shit,” Jones rambled, running his hands over his face and head frantically. Blinking furiously, he started to pace a short path back and forth in front of them.

Paul took a step toward his friend. “Jones, I don’t think—”

“No, it makes total sense!” Jones exclaimed, his eyes simultaneously foggy and feverish. “Something is going around, making people act crazy . . . violent . . . it’s only natural that it would spread through the blood, right? I mean, her blood must have gotten in my cut, and now . . .” He trailed off and stopped short, staring off into space. In a quick, fierce motion, he spun to face them.

“I don’t want to die, you guys,” he said in a flat, hard voice.

“That’s not going to happen,” Kai replied forcefully.

Jones gave him a skeptical look.

“Yeah, well . . . it’s only a matter of time before a quarantine turns into a kill zone. But, what I mean is . . .” He eyed them both, emotion plain on his face. “I’m not one of those people who’d be like, ‘I’d rather be dead than be one of
them
.’ You know? I mean, we don’t even know who
them
is or what’s wrong with them. What if it’s easily curable? Right? And I go off myself because I think I’m going to become some kind of mindless monster, but really I’m just going to be sick for a while.”

He stood before them with his hands stretched out, palms up, searching for support. Kai realized suddenly how young he was, barely out of high school and still living with his parents. Before today, he had only worried about the best surf spots and how to get girls into bed. And here he was, soaked to the bone and bleeding, making a case for his life.

“Buddy, no one’s talking about that,” Paul said, his tone reassuring. He put a hand on Jones’s shoulder, and shook him gently. “You have to calm down and realize you’re probably fine. You’re just tired, and probably hungry. If you can keep it together until we get to the station . . . we’re only a few blocks away . . . we’ll get some warm clothes, and I’m sure they’ll have some food too.”

Jones opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a shrill bark from somewhere down the street. They froze and listened; another call answered the first, a staccato yip from farther off in the distance.

“Move,” Kai growled, and they took off up the street toward the next corner. There was no reason for stealth anymore; he was sure of it. They had been found, and the sound of that answered call sent adrenaline coursing into his system. His arms and legs pumped furiously, water sluicing off his limbs as he scrambled forward, throwing a glance over his shoulder to make sure his brother and Jones were still nearby; they ran close behind him, determination and alarm on both their faces. Much farther down the road, nearly obscured by the rain, two more shadows followed in pursuit.

“Run!” Kai shouted as he hurled himself around a corner. Immediately, he recognized the street as the one on which they would find the station, and he surged forward with a burst of energy. His lungs burned, and he spluttered against the drops of rain he inhaled; he could hear other voices now, crying out like dogs, howling and barking from all directions, and he knew they were nearly surrounded.