Leapholes (2006) (5 page)

"It must have locked automatically from the other side," said Coach.

The stairwell was sucking in smoke like a chimney. They rushed down another flight of stairs and found another door. "This one's locked, too!" said Kaylee.

"Stand aside," said Coach.

The door was made of metal, but it had glass on the top half. The coach stepped back, then leaped and delivered a martial-arts kick. The glass shattered and fell to the floor. An alarm sounded, but they didn't care. Coach reached through the opening and unlocked the door. It opened, and the six hurried inside.

"We made it!" said Kaylee.

"Stop right there!" a stranger shouted.

Ryan spotted a man at the end of the hallway. He was dressed in what looked to be a spacesuit. The alarm suddenly stopped. Two other men in identical strange suits ran to the broken door. They quickly sealed the opening with heavy tape and thick plastic sheeting.

"Sorry about the door," said Ryan. "We're just trying to get to safety."

"It isn't safe here," the man said. His voice had a mechanical sound. He was speaking through a microphone in the glass helmet that encased his head.

"Please," said Kaylee, "this is the only way out."

The man's tone turned even harsher. "You have no idea how much danger you're in."

"Where are we?" asked Coach.

Ryan's gaze drifted toward the broken glass on the floor. He hadn't noticed earlier, but now he saw the red-painted lettering. The glass was shattered, so it was a bit like a jigsaw puzzle. The jagged shards were just large enough for him to piece together the warning.

It read: INFECTIOUS DISEASE CONTROL CENTER: QUARANTINED.

At that moment, Ryan realized that these men weren't wearing spacesuits. These were hazmat suits. They wore them as protection from contagious diseases.

"Oh, boy," was all Ryan could say.

"You can say that again," the man said through his hazmat helmet.

Chapter
7

Ryan and his five new friends were seated at a table in a brightly lit conference room. It was easily the cleanest place Ryan had ever seen, so spick-and-span that it could have made a dentist's office look like the inside of his friend "Sweaty" Colletti's gym locker--and that was a very dirty place indeed. The floor and walls were a glossy white, not a speck of dust anywhere. The table and chairs were highly
-
polished chrome. There were no pictures on the walls, no potted plants in the corners, and no clutter of any kind on the table. There were no windows, of course, and two men in yellow hazmat suits stood guard at the only door.

Ryan saw no easy way out.

The door opened, and another man entered the room. He also wore a hazmat suit, but his was bright orange. The men in yellow showed him a level of respect; he was obviously their leader. He positioned himself at the head of the long rectangular table. He remained standing, looking down on his uninvited guests. "My name is Dr. Watkins," he said through the speaker in his helmet. "It is my duty to inform you that no one will leave this room until I say so."

"We can't stay here," said Ryan. "This building is going up in flames. We'll all die."

"The fire can't reach us here," Dr. Watkins said. "This is an insulated, self-contained, underground bunker. You six are the first ever to breach our security. Congratulations."

"We weren't trying to breach anything," said Ryan.

"I understand that. Unfortunately, the fire caused our security system to malfunction. Had it not been for that, you never would have found your way down the wrong hallway."

"I guess that's why I didn't see any windows," said Ryan.

"Exactly. But you're here now, so I can tell you this much about your misfortune. This underground facility was built with the cooperation of the international medical community. Its location--indeed, its very existence--is top secret, We are not evil scientists trying to take over the world. We are men and women from around the world who have come together to create a research center to fight a disease called BODS."

"BODS?" said Ryan. "Never heard of it."

"It is extremely rare at this point. There are only eight documented cases in the United States. But it's very deadly. And it's highly contagious, if it is not contained immediately. That's why the infected patients are treated here, where they are quarantined."

"Why is your work a secret?" asked the coach.

"If word were to get out that the most deadly disease ever known to mankind could be spread from one person to another simply by breathing the air, a worldwide panic would ensue."

"What exactly is BODS?" asked Ryan.

"The letters stand for Blood Oxygen Depletion Syndrome. Healthy red blood cells normally carry oxygen throughout the body. In patients who are infected with the BODS virus, th
e b
lood's ability to transmit oxygen is severely impaired. Eventually, the blood is completely unable to carry oxygen."

"What happens then?"

"You die. Plain and simple. Without oxygen, your tissues and organs shut down. It's as if your whole body suffocates."

The Flu Lady cringed. "It sounds awful."

"It is," said Dr. Watkins.

"How do you catch this BODS?" asked Coach.

"As I mentioned,, it's airborne."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that every one of you was infected the minute you walked in here and took your first breath. The virus enters through the lungs, then invades the bloodstream through the pulmonary system."

"So . . . we're all going to die?" said Kaylee.

Dr. Watkins gave them a somber look. His answer seemed to echo through the mouthpiece in his helmet. "That's entirely possible."

The coach popped from his chair, slapping the table in anger. "This can't be. There has to be a way to stop this. I mean, we've only been here a few minutes."

"Sit down, sir."

The coach stopped, then returned to his seat. Dr. Watkins continued. "There is one bit of hope. This is a research facility, so naturally we have been working on a vaccine for BODS."

"You can give us a shot?" said Flu Lady.

"Let me explain, please. The vaccine is in an early stage of development. We do know that it is also effective as an antidote, so long as it is administered no later than half an hour after the patient is exposed to the virus."

Coach checked his watch. "We've only been here ten minutes. Bring on the vaccine!"

Dr. Watkins pressed a button on the wall, which activated a loudspeaker. "Mr. Yoo, if you please," he said, his voice carrying over the P
. A
. system.

The door opened and an Asian man entered the room. He was wearing a traditional white lab coat. No hazmat suit, no protective gear of any kind. He looked like an ordinary doctor in a typical hospital.

Dr. Watkins said, "This is Dr. Yoo from Tokyo. He was one of the first volunteers to test the vaccine. As you can see, it works. He's completely healthy. Dr. Yoo, will you do the honors, please?"

Dr. Yoo bowed politely and walked toward a wall safe at the other end of the room. He dialed the combination, turned the handle, and opened the safe. With great care, he removed a small metal box and placed it on the chrome table.

Dr. Watkins said, "Inside this box you will find glass vials. Each vial contains enough vaccine for one person. You must drink it completely. If you don't, I'm quite sure you will be dead before sundown."

His words seemed to hang in the air: Dead before sundown.

Dr. Watkins opened the box. All six of his guests leaned forward and peered inside. There were two rows of glass vials. They were standing upright in a soft, foam base. Each vial contained a yellow liquid.

"That's the vaccine?" asked Kaylee.

"Yes," said Dr. Watkins.

"But there are only five vials," said Ryan, "and there are six of us."

They each counted to themselves. An uneasy silence fell over the group.

"Is there another dose in that locker?" asked Ryan.

Dr. Watkins shook his head. "That's the bad news. Like I said, the vaccine is in a very early stage of development. The chief ingredient, as it turns out, is a protein found only in the stingers of bees. Do you have any idea how many bee stingers we have to collect just to make one dose? Millions, I assure you. This is all we've been able to develop so far."

The old woman's voice shook. "But. . . but you said that each vial has only enough for one person."

"What does this mean?" asked the Sling Man.

They looked at one another. It was as if they knew the answer but were afraid to say it.

Finally, the coach spoke up. "It means one of us is going to be dead by sundown."

Chapter
8

"Is it a painful death?" asked Coach.

"I won't lie. It isn't pleasant." Dr. Watkins closed the lid on the box and placed it in the center of the table. "It's a terrible decision to make. But we hav
e t
o decide."

"The doctor's right," said Coach. "If we don't drink the vaccine soon, none of us will survive. But let's be fair about this. First, does anyone volunteer to be left out?"

No one made a sound.

"I didn't think so," said Coach. "Which means that we have to choose someone."

"How?" said Ryan.

"We should vote," said Kaylee.

"Good idea," said the Sling Man. "I vote to leave you out."

Kaylee looked at him in disbelief. "Why me?"

The Sling Man said, "Because you told us that you knew the way out of the Emergency Room. We all followed you, and we ended up going down the wrong hall. It's your fault we're in this mess."

"Wait just a minute," said Kaylee. "It was Coach who took the lead once we got in the hallway."

"That's right," said the Flu Lady. "This is all Coach's fault. He should be left out."

"This is so wrong," said Ryan. "We can't vote on who should live and who should die."

"The boy's right," said Coach. He took a seat, then rested his elbow on the table and flexed his bicep. "Let's arm wrestle for it. The strong will survive. The weakest will die. It's only natural."

Kaylee glared and said, "How about the stupidest? That's natural, too."

"Who you calling stupid, missy?"

"Stop!" said Dr. Watkins. His tone gave them all a jolt. It was the kind of voice you'd expect from someone who was in charge, but it was even more forceful coming through the amplifier in his helmet. "You're not going to vote. You're not going to arm wrestle. You're not going to decide who's stupid and who's smart."

"Then how do we decide?" asked Kaylee.

"God should decide," said the oldest woman.

The doctor smiled ruefully. "With all due respect, ma'am. Unless God hurries up, you're all going to die. So let me suggest the next best thing. You should cast lots."

They exchanged nervous glances, as if waiting for someone to come up with a better suggestion. No one said a word.

"That's the answer then," said Coach. "We'll leave it to chance. Or to providence."

"I'll be right back," said the doctor. The man in the hazmat suit opened the door and allowed the doctor to exit the room. The others were silent while he was away, except for the Flu Lady. "Could I have something to drink, please? This is making me sick."

The guard stepped out and quickly returned with a cup of water. Flu Lady tried to drink, but her hand was shaking, and she could only manage a sip or two. They were all nervous, and waiting on Dr. Watkins was hardly putting them at ease. Finally, the door opened, and the doctor returned. He was carrying a dinner tray. The first thought that popped into Ryan's mind was that this was someone's last meal, like they did for prisoners before their execution. But this was even stranger than that. On the tray were six small piles of pure white sugar. The piles were of equal size, and each looked exactly like the next one.

"What is this for?" asked Coach.

"This is how we're going to choose lots," the doctor said. "I raided the kitchen. It may seem odd that we have food in a quarantined area, but we do have to feed our BODS patients and people like Dr. Yoo, who have already been vaccinated. In any event, five of these piles contain only sugar. In the sixth, I've buried a bottle cap. Whoever chooses the bottle cap loses. Do we all understand?"

They nodded their understanding.

"Ma'am, why don't you start?" he said to Head Case.

The old woman stared at the six piles. She reached toward the far end, then retracted her hand quickly, as if burned by a flame. She reached toward the middle, then pulled back again. Finally, she went to the nearest pile and raked her fingers through it.

Nothing but sugar.

"Praise be," she said with relief.

There were five piles left. Kaylee was seated beside the old woman. "Young lady," the doctor said. "Your turn."

Kaylee withdrew. "No, I don't want to choose. Let the others go first. I'll take whatever pile is left."