The Virus (17 page)

That was the connection he
was looking for. He knew three men were watching him on monitors in
the facility, but he
didn’t
know. Whatever Mr. Reynolds had done to him
caused this new ability. Still, he had yet to decide if the change
was good or bad. Nearly thirty minutes passed with Geoffrey trying
to make some kind of order of everything he’d experienced when he
realized via his new extra sensory perception that one of Dr.
Crangler’s assistances was coming down the hall with the food he
asked for. Sure enough, not a full minute later, the locking
mechanism on the door sounded and the door opened, revealing a very
nervous assistant with a white Styrofoam tray of food and a
matching drink. The assistant stepped halfway across the threshold
of the room and, only looking at Geoffrey briefly, set the food
items on the floor near the door. Meanwhile, Geoffrey thought he
heard someone’s voice. It seemed to be coming from far off in the
distance and was too faint for him to distinguish what it was
saying, but he was almost certain that it was the voice of a man.
When the assistant quickly closed the door behind him, the voice
ceased and Geoffrey thought nothing else of it.

He made quick work of the food. There
was no trashcan in his room so he put the tray and cup back where
the assistant had left them and motioned to the camera for someone
to pick them up. Afterward, he sat idly on his bed for a few long
moments, before deciding he could use the tray as a diversion until
someone came to pick it up. After all, he didn’t yet have a
television, a radio, or even a window to look out of, and he had
already gotten all the rest he was going to need for some time.
First, he poked holes in the tray, then he pinched it at its
corners, then, remembering that the doctor had taken the notebooks
he had written in, but not the pencil, he retrieved it from the
desk drawer and began drawing on the tray. The doctor had left
other notebooks but for whatever reason the image in Geoffrey’s
head seemed to be searing itself upon Geoffrey’s brain, as if it
were too potent to be held in for even a second. There was no time
for looking for notebooks. Geoffrey scribbled fiercely on the tray.
He felt as if his head would burst if he stopped. After a few
moments, he looked at the image he had drawn. It was a hideous
thing, an image with a frame and a head but nothing like any animal
or human he had ever seen before. He glared at the monstrosity he
had drawn for a few seconds and the holes in this side of the tray
as well and let the tray fall from his hands with a
sigh.

“I
really
need a television.” He
whispered to himself.

Chapter 16

While Geoffrey sat, bored
and alone, on the edge of his bed, Delilah reclined on a leather
sofa, watching television and nibbling on premium quality chocolate
(white chocolate, no less) truffles. A small radio sat on a rolling
stand beside the partially eaten box of truffles, as well as a
small cup of cold milk. Aside from these additions, the room also
now had a three drawer desk that was considerably larger than the
desk in Geoffrey’s room, and filled with all manner of designer
products. Delilah had certainly not returned to the lap of luxury
to which she was accustomed, but, considering the circumstances,
she was on her way. She continued nibbling on expensive chocolate
confections and watching television until she decided she was bored
with whatever program was on. She changed the channel, then changed
it again, but was equally disappointed. She changed it a few more
times, but with the same result. Frustrated, she stood and yelled
at the camera in the upper corner of the room that she needed to
use the restroom. A short time later, the locking mechanism in her
door unlatched and a light tapping immediately followed the
hiss-click
.

“Come in.” said Delilah to two of Dr.
Crangler’s assistants.

“You need to use the restroom, Ma’am?”
one of them asked.

“I do not. But if I did I
wouldn’t want
men
escorting me there.” She scowled at the thought. “I’d
appreciate a room with an adjoining bathroom.” It sounded more like
a demand than a suggestion. The assistant looked at his fellow
assistant with more than a measure of consternation. “Uh…” he
faltered, turning back to Delilah.

“Never mind.” She broke in. “I’ll talk
to Dr. Crangler. When is he coming?”

“He…will be with you
shortly.” The assistant shuffled and seemed to not want to maintain
eye contact with Delilah. In the volatile condition in which he had
last seen the doctor there was no telling
what
he would do or
when
he would be
anywhere.

“All right, well just show me to the
bathroom,” returned Delilah. The assistants led Delilah to the
nearest lavatory. “Could you please not stand right at the door?”
Delilah asked not so politely, once she was at the bathroom’s
entrance. “Could you possibly stand down there somewhere?” she
pointed about twenty feet down the hall. “I am a woman after all,
and it’s just not comfortable having a bunch of guys hanging out
while I use the bathroom.” She smiled assiduously at the assistants
until they slowly backed down the hall to the spot she indicated.
While she went into the bathroom, the two conversed amongst
themselves in barely audible whispers. “You know we’ll probably be
fired for giving in to these crazy demands of hers, don’t you?” one
assistant asked the other.

“It’s what Dr. Crangler
ordered.” The second assistant answered. “If any trouble comes of
all this, it’s not
our
fault. You know how many times we were told to follow the
doctor’s orders to the letter—foremost by him—and that’s what we’re
doing. When the shit hits the fan, they can’t blame us for
following orders. Besides, from what everyone’s saying, if they
can’t find a cure in the girl’s blood to The Virus, then nobody’s
gonna be able to have kids anymore, so it’s probably for the best
that we keep her comfortable.” The other assistant nodded in solemn
agreement. Regardless of what was suddenly ailing Dr. Crangler, it
was his shoulders that would bear the brunt of this whole thing and
it was he who was responsible for coming up with answers, certainly
not his lowly assistants.

About twenty minutes passed by the
time Delilah finally exited the lavatory. The assistants were
standing silently in the same spot, but now they rushed to her to
escort her back to her room. “So, is there any chance I can get
that room with a bathroom attached to it.” asked Delilah, as she
followed the assistants back to her quarters. “Isn’t it bad enough
that I haven’t been outside since I got here? I mean, I understand
that I’m important and all, but can’t I make a single phone call?
My father could send some of the help from my house to wherever
this place is. They know what I need, and then you guys wouldn’t
have to walk me to the bathroom like a three-year-old.” Delilah
didn’t really think that the servants at her home would be brought
here, but if she could get in touch with her father, he may be able
to free her of this horrible confinement, so she figured that any
argument that supported that objective deserved at least the chance
to be aired. Unfortunately, the reality soon surfaced of how she
was abducted and subsequently drugged right there in her father’s
presence. If these people could trespass on private property and
take her while her wealthy and affluent father was right there in
the room, there was probably nothing he could do now that she was
held prisoner in this god-awful colorless facility. It was
definitely not an encouraging realization to dwell upon, but
Delilah partially consoled herself by the fact that she was making
headway in getting her demands met at the moment. If nothing else,
it was a start.

“Where is Dr. Crangler anyhow?” she
asked as she approached her room. One of the assistants stopped at
one of the large double windows that lined nearly every room like
this in the facility. He peered into the window and sighed deeply
in relief. “He’s right there, thank God.” Said he “So, Miss Hanson,
if you have any further request, they should be directed to him.”
Delilah saw the doctor, or rather the back of him when she walked
to the window where the assistant was standing, as he surveyed her
room. The door was already opened so the leading assistant led
Delilah in quickly, and just as quickly stood to the side just
inside the room. The remaining assistant did likewise after Delilah
entered. Meanwhile, Dr. Crangler, hearing the steps of his awaited
guest, turned on his heels with a swiftness and anger that belied
his age and professional reserve.

“What…!?” the doctor
barked, unable to articulate a spirited assault for the tide of
anger that currently engulfed him. “What…!?” he tried again. He
gestured in every direction and it was clear that he could hardly
control himself. “Report to Operations,
immediately
!” he demanded to his two
silent staff members, once he calmed down enough to speak a
complete sentence. “
Immediately
!” he yelled again, even
though his assistants were already making their hasty exit. He
watched with a grimace as they passed the double windows of the
room toward the operations department. Then, he turned around to
Delilah, who was sitting quite comfortably on her new white leather
couch. “Miss Hanson…” he began.

“Listen, Dr. Crangler,”
Delilah kindly interrupted, “I don’t know how long I’ve been here,
but it feels likes months. I mean, guys in black suites trespass on
my property, take me from my house,
drug
me,” she sounded especially
displeased with this last bit, “and then bring me to whatever this
place is, where guys in white suits stick me in a room—one without
a connected bathroom I might add—and just leave me to rot. I mean,
really. Everything’s white all the time, I’m just now getting some
of the products I need, and no one will tell me when, or
if,
I’ll ever leave this
place. Now, you said that I was important, that you needed me to
find a cure for this virus thing that’s out there. Well, if I’m so
important, why shouldn’t I be treated like it?” Delilah paused to
give the doctor a chance to answer, but he just stood there,
seething, glaring at her as if she was truly insane. “You know,”
she continued, completely undaunted, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea to
let me call my dad and have him send some of the help here. I mean,
it would…”

“Absolutely
not
!” demanded the
doctor. “As a matter of fact, all of this…this…
stuff,”
the doctor gestured toward
Delilah’s latest room additions, “will have to go back immediately,
including you. I’m going to have you moved back to the room you
were in as soon as I have all this nonsense removed.”

One of things that Delilah had
demanded from Dr. Crangler’s nervous assistants in his absence was
that she be moved to be a different room, the room she was in now.
She had already figured the doctor wouldn’t be so receptive to the
other things she had gotten changed, but she didn’t think he would
cause such a fuss about her being relocated to a different room.
After all, she reasoned, what was the difference? As far as she
knew, the entire facility was nothing more than a hodgepodge of
equally blank rooms, but, even so, there was a reason she had
herself moved to a different location, and she had no intention of
returning, as she firmly asserted to the doctor.

Delilah stood her ground.
“Absolutely
not
!”
she returned, “I
am
not
going back to that room or any
other room.”

The doctor was about to
assure her in no uncertain terms that indeed she was, but didn’t.
Getting the information from Geoffrey’s notebooks was still his
main objective, and he didn’t want to be further distracted. Even
though he was furious with his assistants as well as the absurdly
arrogant young lady standing before him just now, he didn’t want to
waste precious focus he needed elsewhere, engaging in combat with
Miss Hanson. Any other time—
any
other time—he would’ve been more than happy to
show this spoiled little
celebutant
who was boss here, but not this time. Instead,
the doctor asked, “And exactly why not, Miss Hanson?”

“Because, I’m not a peep
show, Dr. Crangler.” answered Delilah with heightened fervor.
Unfortunately for the doctor, his reluctance to engage in
territorial mortal combat with Delilah was only encouraging her to
be more bold in her campaign to get her way. “It’s not like I
approve of it, because I certainly do not, but it’s one thing for
you people to have cameras everywhere,” she continued, “but it’s a
whole other thing for me to have to see this huge window all the
time where I know people are watching my every move. And since I
haven’t seen another woman around here yet, I know that there are
most likely nasty, maybe old, men on the other side of that
window-thing you have set up. Oh, yeah, that’s right. I know
there’s somebody on the other side of that window in my old room. I
saw your guys talking to it when they thought I wasn’t looking.”
Delilah gave the doctor a knowing look that was meant to inspire
guilt. Meanwhile, he just stood there, dumbfounded at this woman’s
arrogance, but again, this was not the time for the battle he
would’ve enjoyed engaging with her.