Fatal (39 page)

“Yeah,” Lyle said, “Ah’m a fuckin’ old man.”

He smiled toothlessly and shifted his weight as if he was going to stand.

At that instant, there was a scraping sound from high on the head-wall. All seven of those below turned to the noise. Ellen, a gaunt, dusty apparition, was standing straight up, twenty feet directly above Vinny Sutcher. The broad, flat rock she was holding over her head looked as big as her chest. At the moment Grimes spun and fired at her, she hurled the rock with all her strength, straight down at Sutcher. With his head tilted back, the heavy missile caught him flush in the face, producing the sickening sound of a pumpkin dropped onto pavement from a second story. Instantly limp, blood spattered across his face, Sutcher crumpled backward onto the stony floor.

The seconds that followed were a blur to Matt. He was still fumbling for the gun in his pocket when all three Slocumb brothers produced pistols, seemingly out of thin air. Instantly, the cavern sounded like a Chinese New Year. Gunshots seemed to be coming from everywhere. But the only muzzle flashes Matt saw came from the Slocumbs. Grimes was instantly hit in the chest, neck, and face. His eyes wide with disbelief, he danced sideways like a giant marionette, arms flapping, legs disjointed. Then he crumpled as if his strings had been sliced, held a sitting position for a single beat, and toppled lifelessly onto the dust. Verne caught bullets in his throat, mouth, and the center of his forehead, and was dead before he hit the floor.

Matt raced over to the head-wall. Above him, Ellen was down, but he could see that she was moving.

“Ellen?”

“I’m okay,” she called back. “I slipped when I threw the rock. My pride’s going to hurt when I sit, but otherwise I’m not hurt badly.”

“Is Nikki all right?”

“She’s back there with the others. It’s slow going with her ankle. I think it’s broken.”

“Is there enough air in there?”

“There is now, thanks to whoever created that hole.”

Ellen began making her way down to where Matt waited. Vinny Sutcher lay at his feet, deeply unconscious, breathing shallowly and intermittently. His broad pancake face was a pulpy mass, his eyes obscured beneath twin pools of blood. His head was cocked at a sharp angle, leading Matt to suspect that his neck had been fractured. Ellen moved in beside him, her jaw tightly set, her eyes fixed on the horrific damage she had wrought. Then, without a word, she bent down and, with great effort, picked up the rock again and leveled it over Sutcher’s face.

“Ellen, don’t,” Matt urged. “It’s over. Trust me, it’s over.”

Tears glistened through the dust on Ellen’s cheeks. Her arms were shaking from the effort of holding the rock. Sobbing, she turned and dropped it to the floor, where it split in two. Matt put his arms around her and held her. A few seconds later, Sutcher took a single, shuddering gasp, and stopped breathing forever.

Matt led Ellen over to where Frank was once again arranging the Gel-Paks, and introduced the two.

“I’m going in to see Nikki,” he said.

Ellen pointed to his watch. “Matt, listen. That first shot of Omnivax is going to be given to that baby in a little over three hours. As soon as it is, other kids all over the country are going to start getting it. We’ve got to stop them.”

“Is there someone we can call?”

“This is the biggest campaign stunt of this election. I don’t know anyone in a position to rein in the First Lady at this point. Do you?”

“No. We could try calling in a bomb threat.”

“I hate that idea, but I suppose we could try it if we absolutely had to. I can see us accomplishing nothing except to give them more publicity and land us in serious hot water.”

“If they go ahead with the shot, how many kids do you think will be vaccinated by the end of the day?”

“I really can’t do more than guess,” Ellen replied, “but I think it could be lots, especially on the West Coast, where pediatricians’ offices will be open three hours later than the ones on the East Coast. Thanks to the President’s publicity people, the papers are calling today’s injection The Shot Heard Round the World. The public and the pediatricians just love vaccines. Omnivax is the most eagerly awaited advance in immunizations in decades, but it’s been made clear that even though tens of thousands of doses have been shipped to offices and clinics around the country, administering it to patients won’t be legal until after Lynette Marquand and Secretary Bolton have had their worldwide TV photo op. So . . . What? Maybe a few thousand doses by the end of the day? Maybe more. Who knows?”

“With a three percent prion infection rate.”

“Or more.”

“Or more,” Matt echoed.

He peered up at the hole high on the rock wall and made his decision.

“My Harley’s at my Uncle Hal’s place. I can probably get you to D.C. on time, but I don’t want to leave before I see Nikki. We’ve been through too much together.”

“I understand, but please, let’s get going as soon as you can.”

“We will.”

“And Matt, I apologize for getting so wrapped up in my issues just now. I’m sorry about your uncle. I really am.”

“Thanks. Me, too. Lewis, can you wait a little before setting off those charges?”

“Ain’t no place we got ta be. We don’ ’specially need Lyle, neither. He kin drahve ya ta yer bike.”

“Great. Lewis, tell me something. How on earth did you guys get your guns out so fast?”

Grinning broadly, Lewis pulled up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing an arrangement of leather straps and springs.

“Ma brother Frank, thar, invented this here gizmo a couple a year ago an’ built one fer each a us. We ain’t really got ta use ’em, but we put ’em on taday ’cause we jes don’ truss Bass Vernon much. An’ the older we git, the more careful we git. That rot, Frank?”

“Thassit.”

“So that’s why you guys were looking at each other like you had a secret.”

“We knowed somethin’ they dint, thet’s fer sure,” Lewis said. “The moment Grimes tol’ his boy thar ta git our guns an’ dint jes pull the trigger, we knowed he ’uz a dead man, providin’ Frank’s gizmo worked the way it’s s’pose ta.”

“And did it ever. Ellen, I’ll be right back. We’ll make it. My uncle’s place isn’t too far from here. His girlfriend is away, but I know where he keeps a spare key.”

“Good, because there’s someone I need to call.”

“I’ll be back.”

Matt was halfway up the head-wall when he heard Nikki’s voice.

“Hey, sailor, come up here and get your Red Cross advanced swimmer’s badge.”

Looking about as grungy and disheveled as a person could, she sat perched on a slab to one side of the rent Lewis had made in the massive wall. Matt hustled to her side and kissed her unabashedly.

“I knew you’d make it,” she said. “I just knew it.”

“You did not.”

“Okay, I didn’t. But you made it just the same, and that’s what counts.”

“How’s your ankle?”

“Better now than it was a few minutes ago. You know any decent orthopedists?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. How many people are still alive down there?”

“Believe it or not, all the ones that were alive when you left.”

“Even Fred?”

“He’s actually a little better. I did a trach on Colin.”

“Incredible. You dun need no steenking OR.”

Nikki looked down at the three bodies sprawled in blood amid the stones and dust.

“Did you do that?” she asked.

“In my mind I did, especially Grimes. But I didn’t even get a shot off.”

“I never trusted that Vinny.”

“I know. Listen, it’s almost noon. Let me help you down. I’ve got to get Ellen to D.C.”

“Oh, yes, that first shot is due this afternoon. Hurry. I can get down myself.”

“You can let me help you.”

It was a slow, awkward descent. When they finally reached the bottom, Matt carried her to a safe spot in the tunnel and set her down. Even beneath the bandage he had applied, he could feel the enormous swelling in her ankle. He kissed her hand, then her neck, and finally her lips.

“You think you might like to, I don’t know, hang with me after I get back?”

“Only if you promise me we get to do something really, really dull.”

“I promise.”

They kissed once more before he headed back to Ellen. As he passed Grimes’s bullet-riddled body, he paused.

“See, I told you there was proof,” he said.

 
CHAPTER
36

CLEARLY PLEASED WITH THE RESPONSIBILITY LEWIS 
had bestowed on him, Lyle Slocumb hopped up behind the wheel of the old Ford pickup. Matt saw Ellen mulling over how best to negotiate the gearshift protruding up from the floorboards and saved her the maneuvering by taking the center seat.

“I could have handled it,” she said, sliding in beside him.

“Hey, after watching what you did with that rock, I would say you can handle just about anything. I just figured since me and Lyle have known each other from when I was a boy, he might enjoy rubbing elbows with me.”

“Yer nuts,” Lyle said.

“Yes, and don’t you ever forget it.”

As they pulled away, Matt looked back toward the mountain, feeling an odd mix of horror, relief, and foolishness. True, there was a toxic waste dump just as he’d suspected. Soon the mine owners were going to be exposed for the callous, unscrupulous profit-mongers they were, and the cave would be cleaned out. But his narrow-mindedness regarding the mine owners and the cause of the Belinda syndrome had kept him from the truth and had, to some degree, cost lives—most notably for him, his godfather’s. He also knew that there was going to be trouble for Lewis and his brothers. The Slocumbs had become legendary for their mysterious, hermitlike existence. Now, unless a way could be found to dissociate them from the carnage in the tunnel, there was going to be publicity, inquisitions, and scrutiny, and probably weapons charges as well.

Inwardly, he shrugged. He had done what he thought was right and had tried his best. That was the way he had been taught to live his life. There was nothing more he could ask of himself. But there was also no hiding the fact that his exuberance about the mine had almost enabled Grimes and his Lasaject cronies to pull off their lethal deception. Over time, he would have to deal with the way he had handled matters, perhaps with Nikki’s help. For the moment, though, it was essential to focus on other things. All that mattered right now was beating the clock to Washington, and placing Ellen in a position to stop the initial injection of Omnivax and all subsequent injections as well.

Three percent.

The figure reverberated in his mind. Three percent of tens of thousands—biological time bombs with an untreatable, communicable disease that had no diagnostic test and didn’t manifest itself for a decade or more.

Three percent.

“It’ll be close, but we’ll make it before that first shot is given,” he pledged.

“Not if we try too hard and end up as roadkill.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll introduce myself to the speed limit. Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”

“Once.”

“And?”

“I’ve been around for a long time, Doctor. Over those years, there have been plenty of motorcycling opportunities. Doesn’t my saying ‘once’ tell you anything?”

Matt grinned.

“You’ll love my bike, Ellen. I promise. Lyle, make the next left. My uncle’s road is about three miles from here.”

“Ya got it,” Lyle said.

Studying the man—thinning gray hair, aquiline nose, weathered skin, engaging, toothless smile—Matt wondered if Lyle, or any of the brothers, for that matter, had ever had a driver’s license. They were certainly a strange lot, but they also seemed to be living lives that were quite fulfilled on many levels. And now, once again, Matt owed them his life. Becoming their friend was certainly an unmerited gift of that bicycle ride to their house so many years ago.

“Know whar the key ta yer bike is, Doc?” Lyle asked.

“In the kitchen on the counter.”

“Jes in case, Ah’ll wait round ’til Ah’m sure ya foun it.”

“Thanks, pal. So, Ellen, what’s our plan once we get to D.C.?”

“I don’t really know. The community health center is in the Anacostia section of the city. I suspect security will be exceedingly tight, what with the First Lady there and everything else that’s been going on since nine-eleven. I don’t know anyone I could call, and I don’t think phoning someone would accomplish anything in time. But once the people at the clinic see that I’m no menace and hear who I am, and assure themselves that the wild man who’s with me is no threat, I imagine they’ll let me speak with someone in authority. Whether whoever
that
is believes us in time or not is another story. There’s a heck of a lot of votes at stake here, and I’m sure the last thing the Marquand camp needs is something that looks like a screwup on their part.”

“Maybe you can get in front of the cameras to explain what’s happening.”

“I doubt it, but I suppose anything’s possible. The bottom line is, we’ve got to get there in time to find someone who’ll listen to me.”

“If we don’t, doctors all over get the green light to start shooting Omnivax.”

“Four days to two weeks old,” Ellen said. “That’s the age range where Secretary Bolton says they’re going to start administering the inoculations. But soon, Omnivax will be available to all.”

“Oh, that’s just great.”

“They’re justifying that decision by stating that except for those who are allergic, there’s no evidence that being overimmunized is dangerous.”

“And every single man, woman, and child in this country should be grateful for the protection against Lassa fever.”

Ellen laughed sardonically. “Exactly,” she said.

“But nobody’s ever studied the adverse effects of vaccinations over the long term.”

“Not in any organized study that I’m aware of.”

“I feel like I’ve been such a medical ostrich about this stuff.”

“Believe me, you have company. It’s not that on balance vaccinations do more harm than good. It’s just that no one really knows.”

“Well, then, let’s get us to Washington. Lyle, that’s Grandview Road, right there. Hang a left. The house is at the very end. Wait until you guys see my uncle’s place. You won’t have any trouble understanding why they named the street Grandview.”

The road remained paved throughout. Hal’s house was at the end of a long, gravel driveway that cut through a peninsula covered with low-lying shrubs and scattered pines.

“I’m sure coming here like this will be hard for you,” Ellen said.

“I still can’t believe this has happened. Hal’s always been very good to me and my mother. I’ll miss him, and I know she will, too.”

Matt decided against going into any details about his mother’s deteriorating mental state.

The thin woods gave way to a broad, beautifully landscaped lot, at the end of which was Hal’s expansive lodge, perched on a promontory two hundred feet above a large, pristine lake.

“Magnificent,” Ellen whispered reverently. “Just beautiful.”

“Wait! Stop!” Matt cried.

Lyle skidded to a halt.

“What is it?” Ellen asked.

“There, parked in the driveway on the side. That’s my uncle’s car.”

“So?”

“Something’s wrong. He drove us to the mine last night. If he’s buried there, how did the car get back here? Lyle, do you have your gun? I left mine with Lewis so that we wouldn’t have any trouble with the security people in D.C.”

“Frank’s got m’ pistol, but they’s a shotgun in the back.”

“Bring it, please.”

Cautiously, the three of them approached the lodge.

“Look!” Ellen exclaimed in a loud whisper.

Through the broad living room window, they could see a man polishing a vase.

“That’s Hal! That’s my uncle,” Matt said. “Lyle, stand over there and keep the door covered. I . . . don’t know what’s going on.”

His confusion did not last long.

He was moving toward the front door when it opened. Hal, nattily dressed in white trousers and a light blue button-down shirt, stepped out onto the low front porch. At the sight of the man, showered, relaxed, and clear-eyed, Matt knew.

“Matthew! God, I’m so relieved to see you. I’ve been worried sick about you since the explosion. I’ve called the police and—”

“Pardon me for saying it, Hal, but you don’t seem very frantic. In fact, you look downright rested—not at all like someone who’s spent the last twelve hours trying to get his nephew rescued from a mine explosion.”

“I’ve made many desperate phone calls for help, Matthew. I—”

There was no sincerity in his words. Matt’s lingering disbelief vanished.

“Can it, Hal,” he snapped. “You’re demeaning yourself. You know what’s been bothering me ever since we figured out that the Lassa vaccine was really behind those deaths? Grimes. That’s what’s been bothering me, Hal. He’s not exactly a dope, but he’s no Einstein, either. I couldn’t understand how a man like that could have gotten involved with the manufacture of Lasaject in the first place. Then he goes and masterminds an epidemic to get his vaccine included in Omnivax; then he discovers that the vaccine has a fatal flaw; and finally, he sets about systematically destroying all the evidence of that flaw. That make any sense to you, Hal, that he was capable of doing that?”

Hal looked as if he was about to issue another denial, then he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Grimes is a jerk,” he said. “A violent and avaricious jerk, and therefore quite useful to me, but a jerk nonetheless.”

Hearing his uncle openly admit what he had done brought Matt a wave of sadness. “When did you first learn about the prion disease?” he asked.

“Not that long ago, really. Would you please tell your friend to stop pointing that thing at me?”

“No. Go on.”

“Well, two cases were brought to me for autopsy a couple of weeks apart. One had killed herself, the other had been shot in a bar fight. I recognized the names from our initial field trials and began to suspect that was the connection. Then you got involved with that miner, Rideout, and I was certain. Lasaject was too close to being included in the supervaccine to allow anyone to stumble on the connection, so I simply had to identify those unfortunates who had the side effect and send the late Mr. Grimes and his people to deal with them. I assume he is late.”

“Actually, he’s very much alive and talking to the state police right now.”

“Nephew, nephew, you never were a very good liar. And Mr. Sutcher?”

“Well, let’s just say things got a little rocky for him.”

Matt glanced over at Ellen.

“Ah,” said Hal, “the redoubtable Mrs. Kroft, yes?”

“A lot of people are dead because of you,” Ellen said icily.

“Life can be very hard sometimes.”

“Jesus, Hal, who in the hell are you?”

“Just a guy trying to make ends meet. You want to come in for some tea? Of course, I don’t allow shotguns in the house. Or better still, why don’t you all just leave.”

“Hal, we’re not going anyplace until you’re tied up and waiting for the state police.”

“Well, I simply can’t permit that,” Hall said, with disturbing, singsong confidence. “So I suppose I’m going to have to dispose of you all, beginning with your friend who insists on pointing that gun at me. You’re a Slocumb, I presume?”

“Ah surely am,” Lyle said proudly.

The words were barely past his lips when a shot exploded from where Hal’s car was parked, driving Lyle backward into the fender of the truck, clutching his belly. He managed a single, wild shot before he dropped the shotgun, stumbled, and fell heavily on his side.

Standing by the garage, smirking, was Larry, the massive killer Matt was supposed to have murdered, then incinerated.

Matt was just turning to help Lyle when Larry shot the man again, this time in the chest. Lyle, who had been up on one elbow, slumped back onto the gravel and was still. Comfortable with his handiwork, the killer turned the gun on Matt.

“I’ve been waiting for this chance,” he said. “You’ll never know how much I’ve been waiting.”

Matt felt his heart stop as he saw the man’s sausagelike finger tighten on the trigger.

“No!” he cried.

“Larry, wait!” Hal ordered. “I’ll tell you when.”

Matt felt his knees about to buckle, but beside him, Ellen stood her ground defiantly and even put her arm through his.

“Killing us won’t solve any of your problems,” she said to Hal. “Too many people know.”

“Would you care to give me a list of them, Mrs. Kroft? I didn’t think so. But please, don’t worry. I can take care of myself. Matthew, I’m sorry about this, really I am. You know I care for you a great deal. Always have. But this is business, and you have become a definite liability. As you see, my man Larry, here, is very much alive. Believe it or not, I conjured up that murder-incineration story on the spot, with you hanging on the other end of the line and Dr. Solari about to visit the FBI. Brilliant, don’t you think?”

“You’re sick,” Matt said.

“Now, Larry, here, is very anxious to shoot you, but I am a sporting man, as well as one who doesn’t want bodies with bullet holes floating around in the lake. That wouldn’t appear very accidental. So, I am perfectly willing to have you and Mrs. Kroft step over that fence”—he indicated the split-rail fencing that paralleled the side of the drive—“and step off the edge. Who knows, maybe you’ll miss the rocks.”

“Give it up, Hal,” Matt said, regaining a modicum of composure. “There’re way too many loose ends that are all tied to you. You know, you can still come off looking like a hero in this business by telling the police you are blowing the whistle on Lasaject in order to save all those unborn children from spongiform encephalopathy.”