The Source (26 page)

“With vitamin D?” I ask before suffocating the smart
aleck twinge to my voice. I am thankful that I’m able to mentally kick myself
before pointing out to the huffy officer that I’m West Virginian, too.

He glares at me. “You got a real smart mouth for
someone with a PhD. Now, both of you get into the back of my car.”

I look at Rick, feeling completely helpless. Rick
starts to walk to the police cruiser before he suddenly turns around. Officer
Davis still has his gun pointed as us. Everything is very quiet for several
heartbeats. I know because my heartbeat is so loud that I’m sure that even the
non-vampire can hear it.

Rick looks intently at the officer. His shoulders
squared, Rick catches his gaze and slowly says, “I know that it’s difficult.
Being an officer in a small town. Especially someone as talented as you. You
are capable of so much more, but with little opportunity, you can’t prove to
everyone just how great you really are.”

Officer Davis’s gun hand begins to slowly drop to his
side. He tilts his head to the side as he continues to stare into Rick’s eyes.

“Bringing us in, making an example of us, especially a
vampire,” Rick continues, “that’s one small step in building your rep as
someone who should be heading the force. It’s a lot more impressive than a
routine cow-tipping call or domestic dispute.”

“Nothing major ever happens around here,” Officer
Davis admits.

Rick nods. “And you also realize that bringing us in,
when we have done nothing wrong, will only cause more harm to your rep than
it’s really worth.”

Officer Davis turns to the side and motions to my car.
“Why don’t you all get on back to work and be safe tonight.”

Rick waves his hand at me and I hurriedly close the
trunk then get into the driver’s side of the car. I look back to see that Rick
is still talking to the officer. I start the car. After what seems like
forever, he finally gets into the passenger side. I quickly, but without
speeding, take off toward the facility. I look in my rearview mirror and see
the officer still staring after us.

My hands twisting around the wheel, I glance at Rick.
“I’m
so
glad that you finally did that. I was wondering when you were
going to use your spidey sense on him.”

Rick’s brow furrows. “Spiderman’s spidey sense alerts
him to possible danger, not helps him influence people.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean. Anyway, thanks. I did
not want to spend any time in a small-town jail.”

“Me neither,” he concedes, “I just did what I had to.
I don’t like doing that often.”

I snort, “You could’ve fooled me with how many times
you’ve played those mind games in my head.”

He grins, “Well, you’re different. If I do it too
much, especially to police officers, vampire powers will be more widely known with
humans. Right now only those who are educated on the subject are aware of
what’s possible, mostly scientists and medical researchers.”

“What does it matter if everyone knows?”

I can see from the corner of my eye that he’s looking
at me more fully. “Do you think that the human powers-that-be would feel
comfortable knowing just how easily vampires can influence events? That we
could possibly change the course of human history through these, as you said,
‘mind games’?”

“Well, when you put it like that.” I bite my lower
lip, thinking. “But you know, everyone will find out eventually. Those of us
that know, not me, but others who know - well, they’re liable to tell even more
people about it.”

He turns in his seat, facing forward. “The longer we
can keep it quiet, the better off we’ll all be.” He says this in such an
ominous tone that it’s almost as if he’s whispering, not wanting to tempt the
universe to make his fears come true.

How bad could it be? Well, if there already is an extremist
fringe group that wants to shove vampires back underground then I’m sure there
are some that want far worse. A shudder runs through me as I decide that now is
not the time to think about that.

We get to the facility and each take handfuls of
Wal-Mart bags from the trunk.

Once inside our research suite, we set all of the bags
on the table. I take my purse and jacket to the closet while thinking out loud,
“Okay, now how can we get some better equipment to crush up all of these
tablets in the most sterile way possible?” I continue to think aloud as I walk
back to the table.

“I’m sure that FOHVA has some equipment available,”
Rick offers. “If not in this building, then in the experiment building.”

Right then Gwen rushes through the door. “What do you
all need?”

Rick and I both look at her. Slightly startled I
motion to the table, “We have a lot of vitamin tablets that need to be ground
into a powder. It’s for another experiment so it needs to be done in the most
sterile way possible to eliminate contamination.”

“I’m on it.” And with that Gwen takes off from the
room as quickly as she entered.

I practically collapse in the seat; the adrenaline
rush from our run-in with the police capped off by Gwen’s startling appearance
has emotionally exhausted me. Standing is just too much effort right now.

“Are you ready for this?” Rick asks.

I run my hands through my hair, stopping to run the
heels of my palms against my temples. “Yes, although I would be lying if I
didn’t admit that I wouldn’t be heart-broken to put it off for a while. A couple
of hours. Until tomorrow. Whatever works.”

Rick sits down beside me. “And that just gives the
other teams more time to catch up or even bypass us.”

“I know. The adrenaline crash just has me wanting to
curl up in bed with a good book instead of play mad scientist on a vampire
guinea pig.”

“I agree with Bree in this case.”

“How do you mean?” I ask.

He looks deeply into my eyes. “It’s only mad if we
don’t try to protect those that we can. Even if it means hurting, even killing,
a few.”

I bob my head up and down. “It’s not that I don’t
agree. What scares me is who gets to decide who ‘the few’ are. Today it’s a
criminal vampire. What if tomorrow it’s a vampire who didn’t pay their taxes?””

“That’s a crime, too.”

“Worthy of torture?”

“Depends who’s President,” Rick responds.

“Comforting,” I groan.

I stretch my legs out and close my eyes. I rest my
hands behind my head and lean back as much as possible. I can sense Rick
watching me, but I don’t want to continue this line of conversation because I
don’t want to think about where Thalia could be tomorrow. I let my mind wander
as I envision myself stretched out on my couch, in the comfort of my own
apartment, not having to deal with hard questions or what it means to have
moral integrity.

After several minutes Rick asks, “Do you think there
would be a more humane way to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Administer the vitamin D,” he replies.

I raise my head and look at him. “More humane than
sprinkling acid-like powder all over a trapped vampire?”

“We could inject it into her, with a syringe. That’s
more clinical. And some would say the more clinical, the more humane.”

“People say that to make themselves feel better about
what they’re doing. Ugh. Can you imagine? It would be like basically injecting
acid into someone’s veins, giving them a chemical burn from the inside out.” I
scrunch my face up in a look that mixes utter disgust and abject horror.

“We would have more control of our sample if we did it
that way.”

I look at him again. “My God, you’re seriously
considering this?”

Rick shrugs, “Why not? If the end is the same, does it
really matter?”

I look down at my lap as I rest my hands there. “I
guess not,” I say quietly. “I mean we’ve already mutilated her, so why be all
moral now.” I seriously don’t like the decisions and opinions I was being
forced to form during this project. If I had known all of this before, would I
have still answered the ad? I don’t know. I have to be honest and say that the
money would have still been a big draw. I would like to think that I would have
been against answering the ad more than taking the money. But everyone has his
or her price, especially in this economy.

The door opens and Gwen’s head peeks inside, “Bring
the bags, we’re going to the other building.”

I guess the time for self-reflection is over.
Regardless of my feelings on the outcome, it is time for action. In some ways I
hope that Thalia does die. I don’t know if I can look at myself in the morning
if she has to live the rest of her existence looking like a vampire Freddy
Krueger. Or even worse, particularly if Rick was serious about the injection. 
Either way, I expect to have nightmares for weeks to come.

When we arrive at the other building, I suddenly
forget how to move my legs. I remain sitting in my seat hoping that at any moment
we would turn around and go back. I definitely wouldn’t have complained about
the lost time, but the whole point is for the project to continue and for us to
be successful. Breathing slowly and deeply, I imagine my legs moving as the
door opens. Nothing happens. I continue to sit there, staring ahead of me into
the distance.

“Emma? Is something wrong?” Rick asks.

I look at him and catch myself laughing at the
ridiculousness of his question. Is something wrong? It would be easier to list
what is right in this situation. It’s a short list, if anything at all.

He cocks his head, looking at me as his face softens,
as if he’s straining to hear faint music that only audibly enhanced individuals
can make out in the cacophony of modern life.

“You know, you will survive this.”

I purse my lips. “Will I?” 

“It’s certain that it will change you, but you will
survive. What you do with that change is your choice. You can make of it what
you want.”

“And if I don’t want the change?” I ask.

He holds his hands out as if to say “I will not harm”
while his face seems to say “I’m sorry that you’ll hurt either way.” If I go
through with this experiment, I will no longer be the woman that I always
thought I was, the woman that I aspired to be. I will become one of those people
that I so easily judged in my moral superiority. Judgment is an easy way to
make me feel better about myself and how important I am. When that’s gone, what
will be left of me? Is there anything about me that is good without the
comparison of those who do evil deeds?

Now was one hell of a time to have an existential
crisis. But I guess better now than never. I could go the rest of my life and
never question this about myself and continue living my life of
self-righteousness.

It appears that to grow as a person I need to force
myself to the edge of the abyss, stare darkness in the face, ask it to dance -
then in mid-waltz, cut it’s head off and be humbled by the fact that I was able
to do it and make it out alive. Certain jobs need to be done by special people
- those jobs that the majority of people cannot do because of moral
considerations. Still, those jobs need to be performed for the betterment of us
all, regardless of what our morality tells us. I could ask what that means
about our morality in the first place, but right now I had a choice to make.

Time to be an adult and not hide from the big scary
monster that’s been wholly created by people who have never had to make these
decisions.

I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. I shift
my legs to the side and exit the car as Rick stands aside and smiles softly at
me. I look at him for a few pounding, panicked heartbeats and then begin my
descent into the nightmare via the building entrance.

We carry the bags down the hall to Thalia’s cell where
we meet Mr. Caulfield. “Good evening. I’ve been told that you require another
experiment. One that may be very promising.”

Shocking myself, I respond first. “Yes, it is very
promising. Or it could be another way to incapacitate vampires. That’s what
we’re here to determine. If our solution means incapacitation or annihilation.”

I’m a poet. Look at me.

Mr. Caulfield nods. “Very well. I will stay and
observe the proceedings. The assistants will take you to the equipment that you
requested for your prep work.”

With that we are dismissed to go forth and conquer. We
follow the assistants, a man and woman, toward the back of the facility where
we take stairs to the lower level. Gwen follows us the whole time, remaining
quiet as she occasionally scribbles notes in her notebook. With each step I
take down the stairs, I find it harder and harder to breathe. I don’t know if
it’s a change in air pressure or another side effect of my anxiety.

When we reach the lower level, the woman assistant
uses a badge and access code panel to open the door. We enter a new hallway
where they direct us to the third room on the left. She again uses a badge and
access code to unlock the door and then holds it open for us to enter.