Out of Reach (14 page)

“Now spill.” Crossing my arms over my chest
I lean back and wait. Clearly stalling she makes a fuss of
undressing her straw and savoring a couple long, slow sips before
meeting my gaze.

“Where do I begin?”

“Seeing as I have none of the details
pertaining to the funk that's been surrounding you these last few
weeks, just start at the beginning,” I tell her.

Closing her eyes she composes herself.
“Okay, the beginning.” She enlightens me about the ordeal her team
has had working on a new compound. “When we first got started we
didn't think synthetic reproduction would pose much of a problem
since the chemical structure appeared similar to the last couple of
compounds we’ve dealt with. Turns out, however, the structure is
nothing similar and doesn’t behave like anything I’ve ever seen
before.”

Caught up in the telling of her story Gwen
becomes startled when a waitress sets a plate of food on the table
in front of her. "Wait, I haven't ordered anything yet," she tries
to explain to the waitress.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you when
we got here," I inform her, clearing up her confusion. After
thanking the waitress I return my undivided attention to Gwen once
more, who until the interruption had been expounding on a recent
team brainstorming session in which they devised a new procedure
for handling compound 253B.

"Let’s eat while I finish," she tells me. As
I dive into a turkey sandwich I continue to listen. "So Abigail and
I still haven't had any success, but just before you drug me out of
there, Joe and Charlie had a breakthrough."

"Well that's great," I chime in.

"Don’t get ahead of yourself," she says,
arching a single sculpted brow. "So, like I was saying, Joe and
Charlie had a breakthrough. They actually managed to achieve a
solid state—well semi-solid."

I cock my head quizzically, not sure exactly
what she means. "It looked like Jell-O," she tacks on for
clarification. "The fact that it came out of a plastic mold only
helped to strengthen the relationship, I think." I open my mouth to
ask a question and she waves me off, frantically swinging her arms.
"So I'm the last one of the team who gets to observe their results
and you'll never guess what happens. After poking the gelatinous
mass with my pen, it does what compound 253B always does:
evaporates into this pretty purple gas that dissipates into nothing
almost immediately."

Successfully interjecting for the first
time, I ask, "Purple gas? What kind of gas?"

"It’s more like wisps of smoke that vanishes
seconds after you see them."

"Interesting. So, once manipulated, the
product completely broke down."

"Yes. Well, not exactly. You see, I wasn't
the first person to touch it."

Sitting up straight I set my elbows down on
the table and rest my chin in my hands. "How long did you say it
was stable before that?"

"About twenty to thirty minutes," she
answers.

Frozen compounds can be
tricky to deal with but why would compound 253B suddenly lose
stability after thirty minutes?
I ask
myself.
That's well past the risky first
five minutes.

"I'm what's wrong with the equation!" Gwen
tells me, not looking up from her glass. The despairing surety of
her statement pulls me back into the conversation.

"Come again?" I blurt out in my
confusion.

"The thing melted after I touched it, I've
never gotten anywhere near stability, and neither have any of the
team members I've worked with." Crossing her arms over her chest
and slumping into her chair, she adds, "Everything falls apart as
soon as I touch it—well, vaporizes that is."

Then I see it.

One minute I'm staring at Gwen trying to
make heads or tails of her predicament and the next minute the
lines of the puzzle have come together perfectly and I’m able to
see the big picture. A new horror grips me slowly, spreading
through my visceral organs and freezing in the pit of my stomach.
If I'm right, Gwen truly is extraordinary and blissfully unaware of
the complexities of the deadly organism she's been dealing
with.

And I can't tell her a thing.

"You need a refill." I jump up from the
table, suddenly needing space. Taking our glasses from the table I
walk back into the café and begin to pace back and forth in front
of the soda fountain. Setting the glasses down on the counter I
pull my cell phone free of my pocket only to stare down blankly at
it. Somehow I know I'm right and Gwen has been experimenting on a
Sylph. Her description of it evaporating into wisps of colored
smoke is a spot on description of a Sylph reverting to its essence.
Still it's slim evidence to go on and if I call Adil now he'll only
believe this is a ploy to try and convince him about Gwen's
importance.

No, I can't call anyone
yet
, I think to myself in exasperation.
Shoving my phone back into my pants pocket I refill our drinks and
make my way back to Gwen. Offering her the fresh Coke I sit down
across from her, gathering my thoughts and readying myself to
lie.

"I think you're being too
hard on yourself. As far as I know, there is no data to support one
person being toxic to a compound."
Unless
you’re a Nephilim and the compound you're secretly dealing with is
a Sylph.
"I think you've just been in the
wrong place at the wrong time, so to speak.”
Well isn't that the understatement of the century,
I want to scream. “It doesn't sound like your new
procedure is perfect, but you are starting to see results. Take
that for the success it is and keep moving forward. You're the
best, Gwen; you'll get it."

Reeling from the myriad of unholy reasons
why Gwen's team would possibly be in possession of a Sylph, I sit
back as she digests what I've just said. When the waitress
approaches our table, a bit of my old humor surfaces. Gwen is
purposefully staring at her Coke, tactfully ignoring everything
else around her. Smiling at the patiently waiting waitress, I clear
my throat to get Gwen's attention. Acknowledging me with a quick
glance, my grin spreads. "I believe lunch is on you," I say,
winking. Snapping back to reality, Gwen laughs while reaching for
the wallet in her purse to pay our bill.

While I sit and wait for her to pay, a stray
thought enters my brain. The recent events surrounding Mr. Johnson
could also be explained by a Sylph’s presence. Employing phantom
images to induce paranoia and mental instability in a master is a
common trick of theirs. Could Mr. Johnson have been in possession
of a Sylph? My instincts say no, but it is possible he became
collateral damage. Sitting back in my chair I prepare to
interrogate Gwen and find out what she knows about the
situation.

“Hey, I almost forgot.”

“What?” Gwen asks.

“You know Mr. Johnson?”

“Umm, I don’t think so ... Is he from
marketing?”

“No, you know, Mr. Johnson on the night
cleanup crew.”

“Of course,” she replies. “My lab is part of
his section. He’s one of the nicest men, always checks up on me the
nights I work late.”

“Well, he just got put on medical leave,” I
tell her.

“Why?”

“Apparently he had a psychotic episode.”
Gwen arches her brow as I elaborate. “What I heard is that he’s
been seeing things around work and was raving about it in the break
room one day. I guess he even came to work wearing garlic one
night.”

“Wow, I had no idea. Has he had episodes
before?”

“Not to my knowledge, but I don’t really
know the guy all that well,” I admit.

“That’s awful, I hope he’s able to get some
help.” Gwen’s expression of shock over my story is genuine; she
doesn’t know anything about Mr. Johnson. Still I’ve garnered some
useful information from our exchange. He regularly cleaned her lab.
I tuck this new bit of information away as we return to work. There
will be time later to ponder the ever-growing list of coincidences
lending credence to my deepening suspicion.

I hope.

C
hapter 21

My immense pleasure to be back in normal
people clothing is the only positive thing I will be taking home
with me today. I do a happy little wiggle in my jeans as the
elevator dings. Sighing, I step out into the main lobby. Clutching
a stack of paperwork, my precious notebook, and my purse, I make a
beeline for the exit doors, hoping no one will notice my
escape.

Glancing to my left I see Joe and Charlie
engaged in discussion with Abigail. Scrunching my head down and
hiding as best I can behind the stack I’m carrying, I pick up my
pace. Just my luck, before I can tear my gaze away from the group,
Abigail looks up.

Damn it
.

Any chance of a quick escape was dashed the
moment our eyes met and that hopeful expression spread across her
face. Chastising myself for even looking at the group in the first
place, I plaster a smile to my face and head over.

Greeting everyone quickly I again look at
Abigail, hoping to garner some clue as to why she wanted me to
engage with the group. Unfortunately my visual query is answered
with a radiant but ultimately unhelpful smile. Broadening my gaze
to include the group, I become sucked into another discussion about
compound 253B. Slowly it dawns on me I’ve been unwittingly duped
into conversation by my overly friendly lab partner.

So really it’s my own damn fault I’m in this
conversation.

Just when I’m about to scream in
frustration, the universe lets me know it doesn’t completely hate
me.

“Gwen ... Gwenie!”

Turning at the sound of my name, I see
Melanie shouting and waving her arms frantically to get my
attention. Politely excusing myself from the conversation, I rush
off in the direction of my savior. Not even Melanie’s disturbing
public display of affection as she wraps me in an enormous bear hug
can annoy me tonight. I’m that grateful for her timely
intervention.

“Oh, Gwen, I’ve had the worst day ever,” she
explains, releasing me from her Kung Fu grip. Freeing a hand to tug
on her sleeve, I steer us in the direction of the exit before
anyone else decides they want to talk to me.

Nodding along, I listen as she regales me
with the details of her day.

“First, I show up at Dr. Chen’s office only
to find out they are closed for the day and forgot to cancel with
me. So there I am with an entire office’s worth of Starbucks and no
one to drink it.”

As we reach the unpopulated back forty of
the parking lot I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my
shoulders. We made it! Setting my stuff down on Melanie’s trunk, I
lean back against her car, finally giving her my undivided
attention.

“Then I was scheduled to give a talk about
the new blood pressure medication I’ve been telling you about to
Dr. Fernandez’s staff. And wouldn’t ya know, when I stop by Panda
Palace to pick up their lunch order, nothing was ready for me.”

I can’t help but smirk at the wild hand
gestures and dramatic faces she’s using to act out her story for
me.

“So I was of course late to Dr. Fernandez’s
office, and you know how I hate to be late to a presentation.”

“Yes, I know,” I say as she wilts against
the car beside me. Lifting her head she looks around as if
realizing where we are for the first time.

“Why am I explaining this all here? Let’s go
get some food.”

“Can’t ... it’s Ben’s last night before
heading back to work. I’m going to grab something for us on the way
home.”

“It’s okay, I’ll save it for tomorrow.”

Appraising my face, Melanie suddenly
launches herself from her casual position against the car while
pointing her finger at me.

“Tell me you haven’t forgotten what tomorrow
is!”

Wracking my brain, I try to remember as
quickly as possible why on earth the next day is so
significant.

“Normally I would cut you some slack because
I know you are a single-minded workaholic, but tomorrow is the most
sacred of days, Gwen.”

Watching her giggle, I know she’s enjoying
herself way too much as she lays the guilt trip on nice and thick.
Finally I throw up my hands.

“I give up, what’s tomorrow?”

Gently punching me in the shoulder, she
opens her car door. As she leans against it a huge
you’re-going-to–pay-for-it grin spreads across her face.

“Only our annual summer shopping trip.”

I smack myself in the forehead. “I can’t
believe I totally forgot. Okay, but let me sleep in this year.”

Winking at me, she climbs into her car,
preparing to back out. I grab my pile of crap off of her trunk and
move aside before she decides to run me over.

“Mel, I’m serious—do not wake me before
ten!”

Acting like she can’t hear me through the
closed window, she backs out of her parking space, leaving me
standing there shaking my fist at her.

“Crap.”

After my oversight I know there isn’t a
chance in hell she’s going to let me sleep in tomorrow.

* * *

Pulling into a parking space just outside of
Hint of Sicily, I turn off the Mini’s engine and inhale deeply. The
welcoming scent of garlic and freshly baked bread is thick in the
air. I hop out of my car and follow my nose into the little Italian
restaurant. It’s one of our favorite places. Located just a few
blocks from our home, Ben and I will often walk here during the
summer months and enjoy a meal under the veranda on the outdoor
patio.

Waltzing up to the hostess I patiently wait
while she seats the couple who has just walked in ahead of me.
Megan recognizes me immediately.

“Gwen, how have you been? We haven’t seen
you or Ben in ages.”

“You
may not have, but I know your folks have. I’m in here at
least once a week.”