49
1 Piseckého, Prague, Czech Republic
November 30
Eva tore into the box, dropping a long tube into her trembling hand, rushing back into the living room where the incubator had finished booting. She popped open the lid, pushed the tube into place, and reloaded the file she’d been working on, the cure to Nuremberg-6.
“It doesn’t matter if you kill me again,” Rhodri called to her from his spot on the couch, his black jacket and trousers blazing against the fabric. “I’ll be here in person soon, won’t I?”
Eva ignored him, pulled up the cure, and planted a finger on the start button. The incubator began to churn, humming softly.
Then, from the bathroom, Eva heard a smash, a scream, and she dashed away from the table, down the hall. Rhodri paced ahead of her, trying to put himself in her way, and she shoved past, dodging this way and that, but he wouldn’t leave her alone until she slammed into the door frame, catching her breath.
Her mother lay on the ground, cowering against an invisible foe, broken mirror shards everywhere.
“Mama!” Eva said, rushing over. “Mama, you need to be careful here.”
Her mother looked up with watery eyes, reached a hand towards her daughter, and then swivelled around, turning on the tap to the bathtub. Blood from her cut arm dripped into the stream, making the base briefly pink.
“Shh, mama. Come on, we need to get back now,” Eva said, lifting her up.
Rhodri stood by the door, leaning with a smirk on his face, faked a yawn.
“Won’t be long now,” he said as she passed. “I’m about ready to reach out and touch you. Are you looking forward to it?”
Eva sat her mother down on the sofa, wrapping her arms in bandages she found in the closet, pushed her head down gently, trying to urge her to sleep. Her mother sighed, rolled back and forth like she was having a nightmare, though her eyes were open.
“Somebody find Eva… my poor Eva…” she gasped all to herself.
Eva checked the progress on the incubator: nearly done. Warm hands once again stroked her neck, her shoulders, and she hit them away, refusing to pay attention.
“I’ll be here soon,” Rhodri said softly. “In the flesh, where you can’t avoid me. Any minute now…”
Eva squeezed her eyes shut, pushed the voice away in her mind. Then she heard a knock at the door. A knock at the door! She froze, hands clasping the desk desperately. She stayed perfectly still, listened, waited.
The knock returned, more urgent this time.
“Come on, Eva!” sang Rhodri. “I’m waiting! Let me in!”
Eva pressed her head against the door, afraid to look. She heard noises from outside: feet shifting, pacing. She peered through the peephole, trembling, afraid. At first she saw nothing… and then… she saw a woman, black and just as scared as she was.
“Who is it?” Eva called out. The woman turned, pushed both hands against the door, seemed so relieved to hear a voice.
“I’m from the hospital,” she replied. “My name is Fanta Anouma. I’m a doctor there. We… I need your help.”
Eva slammed her head into the door, grit her teeth.
“Go away!” she shouted. “I can’t help you! Just go away!”
Anouma shook her head, seemed so desperate. She pushed a feeble fist against the door.
“Please! I saw you with the incubator! I need your help! My brother is dying and there’s no one else who will help him!”
Eva turned her head from the door, saw Rhodri. He shrugged, disinterested.
“What makes you think I can help you?” she called out, and there was a long pause before Anouma answered.
“Maybe you can, maybe you cannot. But that incubator has the power to cure my brother, and maybe stop the outbreak that has quarantined half the hospital. I have to try!”
The door popped open a touch, Eva looked out nervously.
“What outbreak?”
“We don’t know. It seems to cause hallucinations. Bad ones. Virtual insanity in the afflicted.”
“Hmm, sounds familiar…” hummed Rhodri, running a finger down Eva’s cheek.
Eva opened the door wide, ushered Anouma in, closed and locked them in. She paced towards the incubator just as it finished processing, and it spat out another container with the orange lid. Eva took it in her hand, held it up to Anouma.
“This will cure your outbreak,” she said, confident.
Anouma reached a cautious hand out, incredulous…
“But how did you…”
“Never mind that. I’ll make more. But first, I need to give this to my…” Eva turned, saw the empty sofa, and nearly dropped the container. “Mama? Mama!”
She saw a streak of blood on the wall near the bathroom, and took off. She and Anouma tripped into the bathroom to find Eva’s mother, face-first into the full bathtub, arms floating loose at her sides.
“Oops!” Rhodri cackled.
“Mama!” Eva screamed, and pulled her mother out, laying her on the floor. Anouma pushed in, leaned close and listened.
“She’s not breathing. Tilt her head.”
Eva pushed behind her mother’s neck, and Anouma began CPR, pumping, breathing, pumping, breathing, until Eva lost track of it all, just sat back and cried while her mother lay there, unconscious and fading further away.
Rhodri ran a hand down her thigh, and she pushed him.
“Leave me the fuck alone!” she screamed, and Anouma paused, looked at her, concerned.
“Who are you…?” she began.
“Just help her,” Eva begged, filtering Rhodri out as best she could. “Please!”
Anouma pushed down on the chest again, and this time, suddenly, water bubbled up and out of the mouth, and Eva’s mother choked, gasped, spat and was rolled to her side, and she vomited bile and water onto the floor. Anouma rubbed her back, eyeing Eva cautiously.
“Mama? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” Eva pleaded, down on her hands and knees next to her pale mother.
“Eva?” came the reply. “Eva, my baby… she’s in the tub. Somebody has to find her, please!”
Eva pushed her forehead into the ground, let out a rattled breath. When she looked up, Anouma was staring at her seriously.
“You have the virus too,” she said. “You both do.”
Eva nodded weakly, said nothing.
“Are you sure this cure works?” Anouma asked.
“I’m sure,” Eva said seriously, getting to her feet. “And I can prove it to you.”
She ran out of the bathroom, down to her mother’s office, throwing junk aside until she found a box of needles. She ran back to the bathroom, uncapped the container, filled the syringe, and without a moment’s hesitation, injected her mother with the cure.
* * *
Crew and Sobotka sat on the bed in the dead man’s room. Sobotka put her gun in her holster, rubbed her temple, trying to massage out a pending headache.
“That went well,” she said, gloomy.
Crew snorted, then laughed. He got to his feet, stretched out and sighed loudly.
“Let’s do a quick check and get back after the girl,” he said. “I’m all done with my case now, so we might as well do yours too. We can leave this mess to the crime lab.”
He bent down over the Healer’s body, peeled back bits of fabric, investigating the body. Sobotka got to her feet, did a brief look around, nudged some things with a pen, but didn’t touch anything.
“God it stinks in here,” she gagged. “Too much blood.”
She pushed out to the window, leaning into the night air, the curtains flapping at either side.
“So you really think the Healer was behind this? I mean, he did kill a lot of people here tonight, but if he’s going to do that, why would he bother making a virus at all?” she asked, leaning out, looking at the body on the sidewalk again.
“Maybe he’s just a nut job,” said Crew, tossing bits of paper from the body, obviously not concerned with disturbing the crime scene. “Anyone that dresses like this has got to be at least a little bit nutty.”
Sobotka laughed, turned back to the room, but then did a double-take, spinning round and looking out again… there, a glint on the drainpipe outside. She looked further down, saw a clear streak of red down the drainpipe. The body in the snow. The drainpipe again. They weren’t in the same direction.
“Those two don’t connect…” she muttered. “Uh, Crew… I think we have a problem here.”
She turned round to her partner, stopped dead. Crew’s face was white. He looked up at her, blinking.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I think so too.”
He held out a small leather wallet, flipped open to a bright white card. Sobotka couldn’t read it, but didn’t need to. In the top left corner was a very obvious Union Jack.
* * *
The door exploded open, showering the room with fragments of wood, and the Healer stumbled in, his arm bandaged with red-soaked gauze, clutched by a desperate hand. Anouma got to her feet, pushing Eva back, away.
“I told you to stay in the stairwell!” Anouma said, urgently.
Eva shot a confused and horrified looked to the doctor.
“You’re with this monster?”
“Oh, this is getting good,” chuckled Rhodri.
The Healer shoved Anouma aside, into the refrigerator.
“Talking is too slow,” came his weakened voice, distorted and delirious. He walked past Eva without effort, kneeling down at the edge of the sofa, where her mother was laying, eyes open, almost alert. With his one good hand, he grabbed her by the chin, tilted her head up, looked at her eyes. His hands were shaking, and although he was bandaged heavily, he was still dripping bright red blood on the floor.
Eva stepped forward aggressively.
“Stop that!” she shouted in French, clenching her fists. The Healer turned his head to her, and her confidence melted.
“Where is her blood?” he demanded. Eva glanced to Anouma, then back to the Healer, and sneered.
“Why do you need it?” she asked, defiant.
He let go of her mother, lurched into a turn and bore down on Eva. She clenched her jaw, kept her eyes on his, and held her ground. He looked at her, a blank fury growling from his mask.
“I do not have time to play games,” he said, his voice faltering slightly. “Give me her blood or I will take it myself. My way.”
Eva’s eye twitched.
“You leave her alone,” she said to him, a warning.
“I will do as I please,” he said, and Anouma stepped forward again to protest, but he held his hand out to her to stop her. “Give me the blood now!”
“It won’t do you any good!” Eva yelled. “I’ve already cured her! There’s no virus left for you to diagnose!”
Behind her, the incubator deposited another container of serum. Her eyes darted towards it very carefully, trying not to show.
“Who is that for?” he asked her, ominous.
Eva watched him carefully, then made a mad dash for the incubator, grabbing towards the container, trying to get it before… the Healer pulled her shoulder, threw her onto the floor in the back of the kitchen. Her sprained wrist screamed out at her, and she cradled it urgently.
The Healer loomed over her, pulling a grey device from his pack.
“Give me your arm or I will cut it off and test it that way,” he said.
Eva looked to Anouma, who seemed just as scared as she did. She held out her arm, terrified, and the Healer placed the device to her. She felt a prick, a tug, and her blood seeped away, into the machine that purred softly as it worked. He turned away, watching it intently.
Eva got to her feet, shaky, and Rhodri was there beside her, whispering in her ear:
“The knife, Eva. The knife. Cut his heart out with a knife, like you would for me.”
Eva saw the knife there beside the rotting carrot, and she reached a cautious hand over, slipped it away, kept it close. The Healer fell against the counter, stood straight again, leaving a red mark where he’d been. He kept watching his display, waiting. Oblivious to anything else.
Finally, the answer came, and Eva watched him carefully as his expressionless face stayed locked down. Slowly at first, he started to shake his head more broadly, and then she heard the creak of plastic in his hands, and he savagely ripped the empty vial from the bottom and threw it across the room, into a mirror, which shattered loudly onto the floor.
“A new strain!” he shouted, coughing at the force of his own voice.
Eva acted: she flipped the knife around in her hand and swung it in a quick, precise arc at the Healer’s neck.
He caught her arm in mid-swing, did not even turn to look. Eva trembled at the force of his rough glove on her wrist, her hand unable to move in for the kill. She ground her teeth, tried to will it forward, but it was no use. She watched him, helpless.
He turned his head, looked at her calmly.
“I am done with games,” he said, and squeezed her arm, her hand releasing the knife against her will. She didn’t make a sound; he made no more movements, just stayed there, holding her tightly.
Anouma came to his side, put a hand on his shoulder, carefully, like she was scared what he might do to her, too.
“Please don’t,” she said, her voice soft and trembling.
He shook his head, slowly, dizzily.
“No, she carries a new strain. It must be contained. I have my directives…”
“But I found the cure!” Eva exclaimed, tears in her eyes. “I’ve already saved two people, and I can do more! You don’t need to do this!”
The Healer froze, he let go of her arm, but she didn’t move it, not sure what he might do. He looked slowly to the incubator, then round at Eva, his bloody goggles still a frightening sight.
“You cured the man Daniels?” he asked, and Eva’s breath stopped in her lungs.
“How did you…?”
“Did you cure him first?”
“Y-y-yes, maybe an hour ago…” she said, tense. “What did you do to him?”
The Healer looked away from her, stared at her mother, didn’t move.
“Nothing,” he said, and she breathed again, feeling less tension, less anxiety. “He was already dead.”
The ground spun for Eva, and she fell backwards against the counter, slid down it, put her head in her hands and tried to get her breathing back under her control. There was a thumping in her ears and she couldn’t focus. The Healer stood over her, blood dripping from his arm onto the ground next to her.
“Was he bleeding before you treated him?” he barked.
Eva had trouble focusing. She shook her head vaguely, unsure.
“I must see your cure,” said the Healer, his voice gaining strength. He pulled the container from the side of the incubator, held it towards Eva. “Is this it?”
Eva didn’t look, just nodded blankly. She felt so cold.
He put the vial into his device and pushed another button, staring at the display as if were the only thing in the world to see. Eva’s gaze shifted from the Healer to her mother, then to Rhodri, who sat next to her, kissing her ear softly. Then… then back to her mother. She was staring past her at the countertop, blinking, somehow different than before.
Suddenly, the Healer dropped his device on the ground, and it cracked on impact. He made no other moves, just stood there, his hand open, frozen. He spoke something to himself, a hiss, that Eva had no concept of understanding. He clenched his fist, lowered his head and shook it.
Anouma looked up to him, reached a hand up to his.
“What is it?” she asked.
He looked past her, at Eva.
“She will die too,” he said without inflection. “Same as Daniels. Massive hemorrhaging. It cannot be stopped. Your cure is too effective.”
And with that, he straightened himself up, groaned, and grabbed the last of the serum off the table. He grunted as he slid it into his belt, and then with a deep breath, lurched towards the door, his body giving out on him so quickly he looked like he might disintegrate at the threshold. Eva leapt to her feet, started after the Healer, shouting: “Stop! You have to do something!”
The Healer turned, his breaths uneven and wheezy while he looked at her.
“I have no solutions,” he said quietly. “Only the one you do not want.”
Eva watched the Healer as he stood there, patiently delaying his own death for her, and she nodded to him, horribly.
“End it,” she pleaded quietly. “Please.”
The Healer nodded gravely, turned and stumbled back to the counter. He removed a blue pouch from his pack and placed it on the countertop and unrolled it carefully, leaving bloody prints all over it. Eva looked away, and Rhodri moved in to kiss her. She closed her eyes at it, and felt the brush of his beard on her lips, the softness. She buried her head down, gasped for air, trying to block out whatever sounds she might hear.
“Eva,” said her mother quietly. “It’s done, Eva.”
She opened her eyes, blinked. Her mother sat on the sofa, a gentle smile on her face, her arm still out where the Healer had killed her. She motioned for Eva to come, and she obeyed, sitting on the sofa too, as if in a dream. Even Rhodri stayed distant, giving them space.
“Mama, I’m so sorry…” she sobbed, pushing her head into her mother’s arms. “I’m so sorry…”
“Shhh now, Eva. It’s not your fault.”
Her mother put her hand on the side of Eva’s face, brushed her cheek softly, and she met her eyes, calm and forgiving.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her smile radiant, comforting. “I’m just glad I got to say good-bye first.”
Eva cried, gasped for air.
“I should have said no,” Eva said darkly. “I should have trusted my instincts. I knew this wouldn’t work. I didn’t know what I was doing, and it killed you! I killed you!”
Her mother closed her eyes now, seemed to be feeling something, her smile faded slightly. But she spoke:
“The reason… the reason I kept Richard from hiring you, Eva, was because I knew how terrible it can be to make mistakes in this field. It’s not what I’d wish upon you. It’s not what I’d wish upon anyone. And you’ve already suffered enough for the mistakes you’ve made in life.”
Her mother began to shake. A low, subtle shake, but it shook her whole body, and Eva held tight.
“Eva,” she gasped. “You did well. I’m proud of you. Don’t let my death crush your spirit. You have to live on… you have to learn from your mistakes and do better… promise me…”
Eva cried, nodded.
“I promise, mama,” she whispered.
“Good,” said her mother, a slight smile on her face, but her eyes seeing nothing. “Good.”
And then she jerked slightly, then again, backwards onto the back of the sofa, and started to seize more violently, her eyes rolling back in her head and a few strained gasps coming from her mouth. Eva tried to hold her, somehow stop it, the sounds ripping her apart. And then her mother calmed suddenly, she exhaled, and Eva did too, her lungs aching from the endless pause.
No one moved for a moment, and the sound of the room took time to come flooding back. Eva’s hands were shaking, and she squeezed them together to try and regain her composure.
She looked to the Healer, who stood by the door, leaning on it for support.
“I need to destroy that cure,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
He shook his head, took a step backwards in the open space of the doorway.
“Make a new version,” he said, swaying slightly. “You can stop the outbreak if you hurry. Check the cure against your own blood and you’ll see.”
“But what about…”
“I will keep this one,” he said, and it was not up for discussion. “I have one last use for it.”