The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga (54 page)

She looked at the clipboard in her hands and turned a page.
 
“Says here you hurt your ribs pretty bad?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Chad again.
 
“Sgt. Garza wrapped me up pretty good, but they hurt a lot more now, after that big cop—Perkins—roughed me up in the alley.”

“You’ve had quite the trip getting here,” observed Boatner as he helped Chad step out of his sweat-drenched suit.
 
“I don’t like the way he’s holding this arm, Brenda.”

“I’ll order up the x-rays.”
 
She glanced at the nurse, Susan.

“Right away, ma’am,” said Susan.
 
She turned and left the exam room.

“Okay,” Chad said.
 
He blinked in the glow of all the computers and wall-mounted screens.
 
Everywhere he looked, he saw data tables, casualty statistics, infection maps, and images of the virus.
 
How can you stare at this stuff all day?

Boatner slapped him on the back. “You’ve filled out since I last saw you—a scrawny teenager plucked from north Texas.
 
Now look at you!”

Chad smiled.
 
Boatner had always tried to protect him from the other scientists who—if left unchecked—would have liked nothing more than to have bled Chad dry during the Great Pandemic.
 
Boatner had always been gentle with not only the needles but understanding when Chad had grown frustrated and restless.
 
The life of a lab rat was neither glamorous nor exciting.

Boatner suddenly grew serious.
 
“I suppose you know why what happens next…”
 
It wasn’t a question.

“Yep,” Chad said, glancing at the machine that would soon begin drawing his blood.
 
“But I’d sure like to know if my…uh, friend is doing okay.”

Boatner arched an eyebrow.
 
“Friend?”

“I don’t know her name—”

“Her?” asked Boatner with a crooked smile as he retrieved an empty vial.

Chad felt the heat rush into his cheeks.
 
“Yeah,
her
.
 
She—”

“You must be talking about the young woman they brought off the plane with you and the Rangers.”
 
Boatner put his hands in his white lab coat and shrugged.
 
“I haven’t seen her.
 
My top priority was you.
 
Where did she come from?”

It was Chad’s turn to shrug.
 
“The Russians caught her like they did me.”
 
He glanced at Brenda.
 
“Captain Alston and his men rescued us both from that airport in South Carolina.”
 
Brenda smiled sadly. “ I don’t even know her name,” Chad confessed.

“Indeed?”
 
Boatner glanced at Brenda.
 
“Hardly a way to a woman’s heart, not bothering to learn her name.”
 

Brenda’s smile finally reached her eyes and she turned to prep the machine.

Chad shrugged.
 
“Well, she calls herself 13.”

Boatner’s face paled—an impressive feat given how pasty the older man normally looked.
 
“What did you say?”

That conversation also got the other doctor’s attention.
 
She turned and watched with curiosity written on her face.

“13.”

“Her name is 13?
 
That’s strange,” muttered Brenda.
 
She stood there watching Boatner break into a sweat and put a pair of empty, prepped vials on the table.
 
“Maurice, are you okay?”

Boatner rushed past her to the nearest phone.
 
He ripped the receiver off the all and spoke:
 
“Yes, this is Dr. Boatner.
 
I need to speak with General Daniels.
 
No I am
not
 
aware what time it is—I haven’t seen the sun in—fine.
 
She’s right here.”
 
He held out the phone.
 
“Brenda.”

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked over.
 
“Maurice, talk to me.”

“I need to speak with Albert.
 
Now
.
 
Mind throwing your rank around a little?” He grimaced and handed her the phone.
 
“She says he’s sleeping.”

Brenda frowned and took the phone, connecting her suit to the phone’s input jack with a small cable that hung at her side.
 
“This is Major Alston,” she said in a commanding voice.
 
“I need to speak with General Daniels, immediately.”
 
She waited a moment, then nodded.
 
“Yes.
 
Thank you.”

Boatner took the phone and rolled his eyes as he unplugged it from Dr. Alston’s suit.
 
“That’s fine—Albert!
 
There
you are.
 
It’s Maurice—yes, yes, I’m well aware of what time it is.”
 
He waved an arm in exasperation at Brenda and Chad.
 
“Did you know 13 was on the flight with Huntley from South Carolina?”

Chad heard a loud squawk from the receiver.
 
Evidently, the General was now fully awake.
 
“Right here with me.
 
He’s fine, yes—but we need 13 down here.”
 
Boatner paused, listening.
 
A nod.
 
“Agreed.
 
We’re in exam room three.”
 
Boatner hung up the phone and sighed.
 
 

“It seems no one bothered to inform General Daniels that 13 was on the plane with you,” he said.

“Why would they?” asked Brenda.
 
“The Source was who we—”

“She’s almost as valuable as Chad,” said Boatner as he looked at Chad.
 
“Just in different ways.”

“Excuse me,” said Chad, holding up a hand.
 
“Can you tell me if anyone made it out of Atlanta?
 
I have friends at the CDC—”

“So did we all,” muttered Boatner.
 
“I’m sorry, son.
 
Atlanta was a total loss.”

Chad stared at the floor.
 
“I don’t believe it…I mean, Captain Alston told me, but I never…”
 

“There’s a lot you need to catch up on.”
 
Boatner placed a hand on Chad’s shoulder.
 
“We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”
 
He hesitated a moment.
 
“I hate to ask you, but you know what needs to happen now, don’t you?”

Chad swallowed.
 
“Yeah.”
 
He stared at the cold, metal slab of an exam table, the arm restraints, and the IV machine in the corner.
 
He started to remove his shirt.

“Just a sleeve, please, it’s rather chilly down here.” said Boatner absently.
 
He moved to the workstation behind the table and began to put on gloves.
 
“Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, now, would we?”
 
Boatner smiled thinly at his own joke.

Chad didn’t return the smile, but he was grateful for Boatner’s bedside manner nonetheless.
 
Unlike most of the doctors, Boatner had always done the initial stick himself.
 
He didn’t even feel the bite of the needle when Boatner slipped it in his arm. Chad was glad some things didn’t change.
 
He smiled as Boatner hummed some nonsensical tune from his youth.

"So tell me about the young woman you know as 13,” Boatner said as he fiddled with instruments on the workstation behind Chad's head.
 
Chad could hear the clank of vials and the hum of machinery as Boatner moved back and forth preparing for the first samples.

“What kind of a name is 13, anyway?” asked Brenda as she assisted Boatner.

"I met her in the Russian prison in South Carolina.
 
I guess about the third day after they started taking my blood…"
 

Boatner froze.
 
He took two steps and appeared in Chad's peripheral vision.
 
"The Russians have your blood?"

Chad looked at him and nodded.
 
"Yeah, well, they
did
.
 
I'm pretty sure before we escaped the base, 13 and I were able to destroy all the samples they’d taken."

Brenda appeared on his other side.
 
“You’re sure?”

Chad turned to look at her.
 
“Yes, ma’am.
 
They had a refrigerated case and me and 13 threw all the samples on the floor.
 
Made a helluva mess.”

Boatner squeezed Chad’s shoulder in approval.
 
"Good man.
 
So, it seems you and 13 were thrown together by the Russians…that's interesting."

"How's that?" asked Chad.
 
He looked down and watched the line of blood appear in the tubing that snaked out of his right arm.
 
The tubing worked its way across the space between the table and the workstation and ended in a cylindrical device that held eight different sample vials, not unlike a centrifuge.
 
Though Chad had been through similar procedures countless times during the last ten years, he was still fascinated with the process.
 
He watched as the first vial filled up before the machine whirred and clicked a couple of times.
 
The vials rotated and a fresh, empty vial was loaded into place.

"Dr. Boatner?"

Boatner paused in his tinkering.
 
He looked over his shoulder Chad.
 
"Yes?"

“What the hell is going on?"

Boatner removed his glasses and looked at Brenda.
 
“It’s…complicated.”

"Let me guess," Boatner said, "the soldiers sent to retrieve and protect you have been a little less than forthcoming with information.
 
Right?"

“How’d you know?"

Boatner laughed.
 
"Because I've been working with military types for most of my career.”
 

"It's the North Koreans,” Brenda said.
 
“They took a sample of the Great Pandemic flu strain and then modified its genetic makeup—they made it into something a lot more dangerous.”

Boatner nodded and crossed his arms.
 
“She’s right.”
 
He started to wipe the lenses and squinted at Chad.
 
“When they created their bio-weapon, the North Koreans knew how dangerous it was.
 
Up until now, they’ve been able to hold off the effects of the virus by using a mish-mash of drugs they probably got from China.
 
This temporary vaccine gave their soldiers lots of energy and made them temporarily resistant to the virus.”
 

“They sacrificed their own people to attack us,” Brenda said sadly.
 
“It’s insane.”

Chad covered his face with his left arm.
 
“You can say that again.”

Boatner nodded.
 
“Yes, but now that the virus has mutated on its own, they’ll be just as vulnerable as us.
 
No one knew this was coming.”

Chad removed the arm from his face and looked at the Boatner.
 
“Mutated?
 
That doesn’t sound good.”

Boatner explained everything to Chad while he continued to draw blood.
 
By the time the bloodletting was complete, all eight vials were filled and Chad was able to sit up.
 
Now, he had a much better understanding of the events of the outside world.
 
It did not help his mood.

"And that's why you're participation in this second effort at wiping out the modified Pandemic strain is so critical.
 
Now that it has shifted,” Boatner said with his hands spread wide, "we have no idea which way it's going.
 
The only ace in our deck,” Boatner said as he thumped Chad on the chest, “is you."
   

Brenda examined a clipboard and scribbled a note.
 
She looked up.
 
“What about 13?"
 

“Yeah, where does she fit in with all this?” asked Chad.

"I can see by the color in your face that you have feelings for her,”
 
Boatner said as he placed a reassuring hand on Chad's shoulder.
 
"Just understand, son, she’s…different.
 
Been through a lot, you know?"
 

Chad felt his cheeks warm.
 
“What do you mean, ‘been through a lot’?
 
Haven't we all?"

"No doubt," said Boatner with a sigh.
 
He removed his glasses again and laid them on the counter.
 
"But this young lady has been through an
exceptional
amount of trauma.
 
I assume she told you of the fate of her family and hometown…?"

Chad nodded.
 
"Yeah, she was explaining all that right before the Russian’s shot us down."

Boatner closed his eyes.
 
He rubbed the side of his head.
 
“The Russians knew you were on that plane and instead of simply letting you go, they had to shoot you down.
 
A clear-cut case of jealousy and greed with a healthy dose of insanity thrown in for good measure—you won't find a better example outside of a kindergarten playground."
 

Chad spoke up, eager to change the subject.
 
He didn’t want to think about that plane trip ever again.
 
“13 told me about her training in Sweden… "

“Sweden?” asked Brenda.

Boatner smiled.
 
"Oh, there were definitely some Swedes there, but it wasn't Sweden.
 
She was in Canada.
 
Our allies to the north lent us a base and we provided the personnel—"