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Authors: Erin McFadden

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BOOK: Whimper
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“Mmmhmmm,” she responded, lost inside the microscope. I glanced over at Zoe to see how she was handling the wait. She was discreetly going through Amie’s phone, a scowl on her face. Her eyes met mine, maybe she could feel me watching her, but they didn’t hold the same warmth they usually did. Amie still seemed distracted, so I risked sneaking over to Zoe’s side. She paused in her inspection of Amie’s phone, the screen showing an image of my sleeping face and naked torso. Shit.

“I’ll explain everything when we get back,” I whispered into her ear, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

“I’m not sure that’s necessary, Elliot,” she answered me coolly, “I think I’ve got the situation pretty well figured out.”

I shook my head emphatically, torn between wanting to pour out the entire story with all its sordid details and beg for her forgiveness and the need to keep Amie cooperating.

“This is actually quite intriguing. Who did you say this sample was from?” Amie interrupted.

“A girl from the crowd at one of the first patient altercations. She was splattered with blood and agreed to give me some blood samples.” There was enough truth there that it wouldn’t interfere with any findings. “Could you log in over here?” I prompted again, growing impatient.

“Have you noted the unusual T cells in this sample? Are you certain this patient didn’t recover from viral infection?” Amie asked.

“Has
anyone
recovered after being infected?” I countered, barely concealing the disgust I felt.

“Not that we’ve documented thus far, but statistically it’s very unlikely that any virus would have that high of a mortality rate. There should be a few survivors at some point,” she replied matter-of-factly. “This subject is likely one of them. The sample appears to have antibodies that would specifically target this outbreak. It’s remarkably promising.”

I bit my tongue. Hard. I wanted to snap at her so badly. It was brilliant to have my own observations validated, but also frustrating to have Amie involved in anything that potentially put Zoe at risk. I may have just put her on the CDC’s radar.

“I noticed. Why do you think I was willing to risk getting in here to run more tests?” I bit out slowly, reining in my temper. “The next set of samples are from her sibling who was also there but not exposed.”

“And your third?” Amie inquired, finally getting off her damn stool to start logging into the programs I needed.

“The third is mine. I need to see how well I’m suppressing the virus and how much time I might have left.”

 

 

 

 

 

My blood was boiling. I could feel my pulse slamming away in my temples I was so unbelievably pissed off. He played me. There was every chance in the world that everything I thought I knew about Elliott was a lie, or simply a fraction of the truth. Here I was, committing a federal offense to help keep him out of trouble when he hadn’t even bothered to
mention
he had a girlfriend when he was alive. I shook my head, baffled that I was actually living a scenario where that sentence made sense.

My hands shook as I clenched and unclenched them, wiping my sweaty palms on my shirt. What if he is a terrorist? What if he’s only using me and tomorrow I’ll find my house swarming with federal agents and realize that I believed the most ridiculous tale possible. Maybe all those people used a bad batch of bath salts and once the police track it all down, everything will be okay? It was plausible except for one hiccup. I don’t think the CDC responds to tainted drug scares.

The redheaded scientist was cozying up with Elliott, following his every word as they looked at samples and print outs, data and graphs I had no hope of ever understanding. She annoyed the hell out of me. “Jealous much?” I chided myself. It only made sense that Elliott would be involved with someone who spoke the same language he did.

“You’re what?” Amie shrieked, jumping up from the second work station with a wild eyed expression on her freckled face.

“I’m infected,” Elliott replied calmly, his palms out in a placating gesture. “It’s okay, it isn’t recent. I’ve been suppressing it successfully ever since the day you thought I died.”

“You faked being infected! You never really died!” she stammered. She was going to try to go for one of the panic buttons again, I could feel it. I really didn’t want to have to shoot her…the image of this woman snuggled up with Elliott in a half-naked selfie shimmered in front of my mind’s eye. Okay, I wanted to shoot her a little. Unfortunately, it’d be really hard to hide the body at this point.

“I didn’t die, but I was infected. Easy, it’s okay. I’m not contagious and I’m not about to go all full blown aggressive on you. It’s okay,” Elliott soothed. I rolled my eyes behind her back, already sick of her histrionics.

“You should be quarantined! You could be the source of this outbreak!” Snuggling was clearly the furthest thing from her mind now. “Oh my God. I could be infected! I handled your samples without taking enough precautions. Oh my God!” She kept flailing her arms around, searching for a way to escape, and eyeing Elliott like he was going to tear her to shreds any moment.

“Good Lord, pull yourself together!” I exploded. “You call yourself a professional, a scientist. All I see is a hysterical, stupid little bitch throwing a fit because her rosy picture of the world just got smudged. Get over it and act like an adult!”

Amie Winters stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Who the hell are you?” she finally managed to ask. “Why are you even here?”

“I’m the bimbo with the gun, remember?” I retorted. “And I’m here to keep Elliott from doing something stupid…again.” The double entendre was completely intentional, but I don’t think she picked up on it.

“How much longer is this going to take?” I asked Elliott. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, so I kept my eyes firmly planted on the pain-in-the-ass scientist instead. The female one. She seemed to be getting a grip on herself since I stopped her little rampage.

“You’ve actually been able to suppress the symptoms for this long?” she asked tentatively, completely ignoring me again. “What drugs are you using?”
      

Elliott didn’t answer me either, instead he rattled off a list of drug names and chemicals. I assume that’s what they were, he could have been speaking Swahili and it would have made as much sense to me. The computer beeped behind Elliott so he turned and began printing out results, trusting me to keep an eye on the shifty redhead. Or maybe he trusted her not to turn on him and I’d been forgotten completely. “How much longer?” I repeated, glancing at the watch on my wrist. We’d been here for almost four hours already and Zack and Brianna had to be freaking out. Our deadline to be back at the house was 5 a.m. If we weren’t back by then, they were to assume we’d been caught. If only there was a way to communicate with them. I gasped, realizing something, and picked up the hot pink zebra covered phone off the table. “Why do you still have a phone signal?” I asked Amie. She rolled her eyes at me and looked away. Bitch.

“They’ve got a closed network set up. Only authorized devices can use it,” Elliott replied, staring at a computer monitor. “I have one more series to run, it shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes.”

Shit. The Goth chick on NCIS can run all these tests in seconds. Why does it have to take so long in real life? “How often does security come around to check on you?” I asked Amie, who was furtively watching over Elliott’s shoulder while trying to maintain her distance.

“How should I know? We just got here.” She shrugged. “You aren’t going to make any real progress tonight anyway. You’re going to have to go over all your results and do any experimentation tomorrow anyway. How are you going to get back in here then?” she asked Elliott.

“I wasn’t sure I’d even make it in here today, and now that you’re most likely going to blow the whistle the moment we’re out the door, I suppose we’ll have to make do without,” he answered dryly, as if it didn’t really matter if she sent security hot on our trail. It mattered to me.

Amie was quiet, as if she was trying to decide what to do. I could tell by the calculating look in her eyes that she’d already come up with a plan. “Come back at the same time tomorrow and I’ll let you in. Both of us will take a copy of your results, leave me one of your serum samples and we’ll work together to improve it. I’ll have to pass the work off as my own, but at least the vaccine will exist. You’ll be cured.”

Elliott printed a long series of documents, studying the printer intently without responding.

“I can’t very well give you credit since you’re
dead,
now can I?” Amie whined, cramming her hands onto her jutting hipbones.

Elliott carefully clipped his stack of papers, placing them into order with the others. “I’m not worried about getting credit. That’s actually the least of my concerns. I’m more concerned about losing my research to the very people who are spreading this virus. I know full well that I am not the source of this outbreak—the CDC is.”

Amie threw another hissy fit, huffing about how ridiculous an assertion it was and blah, blah, blah as Elliott countered her every argument with his facts and observations. He’d convinced me before, but as I listened I found new reasons to believe him. Trust was still wavering, however.

“Fine. I’m willing to concede that there is a remote possibility that a small, rogue portion of the CDC could possibly be involved in the recent outbreaks,” Amie finally declared. “I don’t believe it to be true, but there is the possibility. I agree to maintain the secrecy of our research and findings until we agree that it would be in the public’s interest to do so. Come back here tonight at midnight, I’ll let you in, and we’ll begin the collaboration. But please, come alone. I don’t think your petty thug will be necessary.”

Like hell he’d come alone! Anyone with half a brain could tell this conniving bitch could only be trusted so long as it was in her own best interest. Once that changed, all bets would be off. I bit my tongue, waiting for Elliott’s response. He needed to stand up for me, tell her where to shove her demands.

“I may not be able to make it alone, but I’ll bring someone else if I have to,” he replied, not looking at me. My heart sank a little further into my stomach. Amie was evidence that Elliott was willing to use women to get what he needed. I was beginning to feel like a stepping stone myself.

The last set of test results dinged, and Elliott grabbed his flash drive and a ream of papers, shoving them into his backpack with everything else. I noticed he was careful not to leave any samples behind, despite Amie’s protests.

We sent Amie out the door into the garage first, in case security was around and so that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to set off the alarm behind our backs. “I have my car parked inside, I can drop you off. It’ll attract less attention that way,” she offered.

Elliott looked at me, clearly conflicted. I didn’t trust anything about her, but the clock was ticking closer and closer to the time we were supposed to be back. Elliott needed to rest and Zack didn’t need to come charging after us. I picked a building two away from the one we needed to get to. “You can drop us at Rowley Hall. We’ll be fine from there.”

Amie shot me a dirty look, but allowed us both inside her vehicle. I opted to take the back seat, while Elliott claimed shotgun. He clutched his backpack on his lap, looking very uncomfortable. Amie clicked a garage door opener, and the big overhead door lumbered open. As we pulled forward, the gate slid open as well. There was no immediate sign of security, but I kept one hand on the butt of my firearm anyway. I wanted to be prepared for surprises. Amie didn’t know the campus, so I gave her directions on how to get to the building in question.

“Are you a student here?” she asked, condescension dripping from her voice.

“Gosh no. I dropped out of high school a long time ago. I make more money as a stripper and gun for hire,” I smirked. She wasn’t going to learn anything personal from me.

I stayed alert for strange shadows, my nerves taut as we reached our destination. Elliott and I craned our necks around, searching for any hidden dangers before making a dash towards a darkened portico.

“You didn’t even give her a goodbye kiss,” I snarled before Elliott had a chance to say anything.

“Zoe, look…” he began, but I cut him off before he had a chance to continue.

“Let’s get somewhere safe before we do this. I’m not sure I want to hear the excuses anyway.” I watched Amie’s taillights disappear before we moved towards our real destination. The tape was still intact on our doorway, but Elliott’s hand shook as he began to pull it open.

“Anyone could have gotten in here while we were away. We need to be more careful this time,” he cautioned.

“Oh, I was pretty careful the first time, but I’ll bear that in mind,” I answered. Sarcasm is my go to defense mechanism. I can’t help it. I started down the stairs as Elliott removed the tape. We’d walk a little ways and then stop to listen for any other noise. The concrete distorted the sound of our footsteps and echoed, making us both tense and jumpy. As we got closer to our destination, I was sure I could hear footsteps approaching.

BOOK: Whimper
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