Parasite (Parasitology) (54 page)

Love me once to lose me twice;

Learn to take your own advice.

Try to love the darkness if you want to reach the light.

Know your quest but leave your name.

I will love you all the same.

There’s beauty in the starkness of this never-ending night.

T
he closet connected to a service corridor, which connected in turn to an underground garage that was probably used by janitorial personnel: it was small, dark, and spotless. Tansy led the way with unflagging efficiency, never lowering her guns. I struggled to keep up, and was panting slightly by the time she finally waved me to a stop near the center of the garage.

“We rest here for five, and then we’re on the move,” she said.

I frowned at her. “Isn’t that—”

“The alarm’s been sent up by now,” she said calmly. “Banks will have his men starting to sweep the grounds, and they know how long each escape route takes to use. The sewer route would have finished fifteen seconds ago. They’ll check the tunnels, decide we’re not down there, and pull back. Maybe they’ll leave a man or two behind. No skin off my nose.” Her teeth showed white through the darkness, making it clear just how
pleased she’d be to have someone left for her to take her aggressions out on.

“Where are we going to go from there?”

“Away,” she said, vaguely. “Don’t be dumb, okay? I can’t say, ‘Oh, golly gee, Sal, we’re going to
Disneyland
’ while we’re still on SymboGen property. Who knows what they’ve decided to bug around here? Banks was a paranoid dick before he had anything to be paranoid about. Now…” She shook her head. “He’s got more to be paranoid about than any other man alive. If I were him, this place would be so buggy, it would be a…” She stopped. “It would be something really buggy.”

“Right. Right.” I looked around the garage again, fear gnawing on my ribs like a rat with sharp, sharp teeth. I looked back to Tansy. “Sherman’s a tapeworm?”

“Yeah. I thought we covered that.”

“Sherman was a tapeworm all along?”

“The whole time you’ve known him, yeah. He left the lab like six months before you had your accident. I don’t know who he convinced to hire him here. Chave used to give us reports, before she went and got all eaten by the cousins, and she said he was pretty good at his job. Unhealthily interested in you, but she did what she could to run interference there.”

I glared at her. “You could have told me.”

“Why?” She sounded honestly confused. “He was a nonfactor. We didn’t know he was all about fomenting rebellion against his human creators. Honestly, I figured Banks had him cut up after he got picked up in that outbreak sweep you told us about. And what would we have said? ‘Uh, by the way, you totally don’t believe Tansy and Adam are tapeworms in human suits, but you should know that that dude Sherman you’re so fond of is one, too, so maybe be a little careful around him if he’s not all dead and stuff.’ It wouldn’t have done any good. It would’ve just confused you. I don’t like confusing people.”

“Yeah, well next time, confuse me. I’d rather know what’s going on.”

Tansy gave me a quizzical look. “You sure about that?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“Well, then, have I got some news for you.” She started walking again. “The exit’s this way.”

“That’s your news?” I demanded, following her.

“No. But not much else is going to do us any good if we don’t get out of here alive.” She led the way into the dark, and I followed. There was nothing else that I could do, and I had come too far to turn back now. Even if I wanted to, there was a string of locked doors behind me, separating me from everything I’d ever known.

The only way out was to keep moving forward.

The sewers were dark and hot. That was enough to put me at ease, despite the smell around us. I followed Tansy. Her steps were silent as we moved through the sucking slime of human waste. My steps splashed and made horrible slurping noises, like my shoes were trying to bring the entire sewer with them every time I picked up my feet. Tansy glowered at me, her expression barely visible in the gloom, but she didn’t shush me. Even she knew that there would have been no point.

I was starting to think we weren’t going to encounter any of Dr. Banks’s security when we turned a corner and there they were: two men in black uniforms, each with a flashlight and a gun. They never had a chance. Tansy shot the first man before either of them had a chance to react to our sudden appearance, and shot the second while he was still fumbling with the safety on his pistol. They went down hard, and she made her silent way over to kneel between them, studying the holes she’d made in their foreheads.

Then, to my absolute horror, she holstered her right-hand
gun and stuck her index finger into the first man’s skull, wiggling it around for a moment. I gaped, my stomach rolling. It got worse when she pulled her finger out and stuck it in her mouth.

When she repeated the process with the second man, I turned away and vomited messily into the muck.

She was back on her feet when I turned to face her again. She was smiling. That didn’t help. “They’re both human, although this guy,” she kicked one man’s foot, “wouldn’t have been for too much longer. Still, explains why they went down so easy. They didn’t hear us coming the way they would’ve if they’d been cousins.”

“What are you—”

“Come on.” She started forward again, dismissing the two corpses like they didn’t matter anymore. To her, I guess they didn’t. The men were dead. They weren’t any fun to play with once they were dead.

I swallowed hard, spat once to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth, and followed after her. The open eyes of the dead men seemed to follow me, and I was more relieved than I could have believed possible when they passed out of sight behind us.

We passed no more security guards. My relief grew. Tansy had acted to keep us from being detained—or worse, since now I’d shown that I was willing to betray Dr. Banks at the request of people I barely knew—but that didn’t mean I wanted her shooting anyone she didn’t strictly have to. She enjoyed it a little too much for me to be comfortable with it.

Finally, we reached a drain feeding illegally out into the salt estuary under the cliffs near the Golden Gate Bridge. Tansy climbed out and started casually up the nearest hiking trail. I scrambled after her, feeling infinitely more conspicuous, even though I wasn’t the one carrying the guns.

A familiar car was parked at the top of the cliff, an even more familiar form standing next to it. Nathan’s hair was blown back
by the wind coming off the water, and his hands were tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket. My relief grew so great that it felt like my body would be unable to contain it, like it was going to break loose and float away. I started to step out into the open—

—only to come up short as Tansy’s arm shot out and caught me across the chest, blocking any further progress. “Tansy, what the hell…?”

“Shh,” she said. “Look.” She nodded into the gloom behind Nathan.

I looked, and felt my blood go cold.

A mob of sleepwalkers was assembling in the greenery behind him, moving slowly but inexorably forward. We might reach him before they did. Then again, we might not.

“Trust me,” said Tansy. “Can you do that?”

“I…” I stopped, swallowing. “I can try.”

“Good. Now, when I say ‘run,’ you run. Got it?” I nodded. She smiled. “Good. Run!” Just like that, Tansy’s arm was no longer barring my way, and she was sprinting away, laughing maniacally as she closed on the sleepwalkers. Nathan turned toward the sound of her voice, and could only stare as she ran past him, slid across the hood of his car, and opened fire on the oncoming mob.

It wasn’t a fair fight by any definition of the word. There were more of them than Tansy had bullets, but they weren’t armed, and she had an uncanny knack for headshots, which dropped them like stones where they stood. She plunged into the mob, pausing only long enough to howl, “
Get Sal in the car and get out of here!
” Then she was gone, covered by the bodies of the sleepwalkers still on their feet. It didn’t seem to matter that the tapeworms motivating the sleepwalkers were her cousins; they clawed and grabbed for her all the same.

Nathan recovered quickly, and had the passenger side door open by the time I reached the car and flung myself inside. He
twisted the key in the ignition, shouted, “Seat belt!” and hit the gas before I even had time to close the car door.

We went bouncing and shuddering over the uneven ground of the parking lot. I got my belt clicked home just before our tires dropped down to the street, and we were rolling smoothly into San Francisco, away from Tansy and the sleepwalkers, away from SymboGen… away from everything.

Nathan didn’t try to talk to me until we were halfway across the Bay Bridge. I assumed we were heading for Dr. Cale’s. I didn’t care as much as I thought I was supposed to. Glancing over, he asked, “Did you get it?”

“Yes,” I replied dully. I followed the answer with a question of my own: “Do you think she got out?”

“Tansy?”

I nodded.

“I don’t know.”

I sighed, turning my face back to the window. “Thank you for not lying to me.”

Nathan was quiet after that. We passed from the bridge into the East Bay, and drove in fragile silence all the way to the Caldecott Tunnel. Once we were on the other side, I turned to him and asked, “Are we going to your mother’s lab?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want antiparasitics. I want all the antiparasitics in the world. I want so many antiparasitic drugs my skin turns blue and my nails fall off. Whatever it takes to get this thing out of me.” I slapped my stomach, hard. Something was gnawing at the corner of my thoughts like a rotten tooth. I did my best to shove it aside.
No no no I will not think that.
“Make it go away, Nathan. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”

“Your reaction to antiparasitics would probably make that fatal.”

“I don’t
care
.”

“Sal…”

“Please.”

Nathan took a shaking breath. Finally he said, “We’ll do a blood test first, and find out just how healthy your implant is, all right? We don’t want to risk giving you an overdose when something less aggressive would have taken care of everything. Okay? I’d rather not kill you, if you don’t mind.”

“Yes,” I said, and closed my eyes, sagging into my seat. “That’s okay. Thank you.”

Nathan didn’t say anything. He just drove on.

Part of me had been hoping, no matter how foolish it was, that we’d pull into the bowling alley parking lot and find Tansy waiting, her ass parked on somebody else’s car as she counted down the minutes to our arrival. Instead, all that greeted us were shadows, and the dead, leafless trees.

Nathan pulled out a key as we walked toward the bowling alley door. I blinked. He glanced my way and said, almost apologetically, “I’ve been here a lot lately.”

“I guessed,” I said. Anything else I might have had to say was lost as he opened the door and I was swarmed by Beverly and Minnie, both wagging their tails in frantic delight. Minnie’s delight seemed based more on Beverly’s than on actually being happy to see me, but that didn’t matter: energetic dogs are their own reward.

By the time I pushed the dogs off, Nathan was already past the threshold. I sighed and straightened, whistling to bring Beverly to heel. Minnie followed her, and both dogs followed me as I made my way inside. I closed the door behind me.

Nathan waited until we were both safely in the bowling alley before turning and pulling me into a tight embrace, burying his face against my shoulder. “Oh my God, I was so worried about you,” he said, words only somewhat blurred by my skin.

I took a shuddering breath, locking my arms around him.
Then I took another, and another, and before I knew what was happening, I was crying against him, all the terror and tension of the day leaking out through my eyes. He held me tighter as his own tears dampened my shoulder, and the dogs twined around our ankles, whining anxiously.

Finally, we let each other go. Nathan looked at me gravely. “Never do that again. Please. I don’t think my heart could take it.”

“I’m not planning to,” I promised him.

“Good.” He took my hand, and we walked, together, into Dr. Cale’s lab.

Dr. Cale herself was parked at one of the lab benches, flipping through a file of pictures that I didn’t quite see before she snapped the folder shut. I was glad of that. What little I had seen gave the impression of red, raw muscles, and I didn’t really want to be looking at autopsy photos just at the moment. She turned toward us, relief lighting her face. “You’re both all right,” she said. Then the relief slipped, replaced by puzzlement. “Where’s Tansy?”