Fasil made a hard right, the cab skidding around the corner at such a speed Bill thought for sure they’d crash.
But even on the slick street, the tires held.
Fasil followed up the maneuver by narrowly cutting off a bus, careening into oncoming traffic, and taking a hard left into an alley.
He stood on the brakes. The cab screeched to a halt a few feet in front of a dumpster.
“We shall wait here for ten minutes, until we are sure they are gone.”
“Thank you, Fasil.”
Bill began to put the watch in the pay slot, but Fasil held up a hand.
“No need. I come from a country where the government oppressed me. Many people helped me to escape. I am happy to help you.”
Bill put his watch back on. With his shaking fingers, it required every bit of his concentration.
Theena leaned towards Bill, snuggling against him. He put his arm around her.
“We have to go to DruTech, Bill.”
“Won’t they guess we’ll do that?”
“It doesn’t matter. There’s security around the clock, and they work for me, not Rothchilde. We can be safe there, until we sort this out.”
“Maybe we should just leave the state. Or the country.”
“For how long? If we run, they’ll be waiting when we get back. I’m not going to let these bastards chase me away from my life.”
“Why don’t you two go to the media?”
Theena and Bill looked at Fasil.
“I do not know what your story is, but it seems very big. If you involve the media, it will force the government to take action against those who are after you.”
Bill’s foot was resting on his overnight bag, which contained the N-Som file he’d gotten from Mike Bitner’s place. If he could prove something crooked was going on, the media was a logical place to turn.
But was Theena involved? How deep was she in?
“Fine, we’ll go to DruTech. How about the other doctors on the team?”
“I’ll call them, tell them to meet us there.”
Bill handed Theena the cell. “Have them pack a bag-we don’t know how long we’ll have to stay.”
Theena dialed a number and spoke for a few minutes with Dr. Julia Myrnowski, the chemist. Then she left messages with Dr. Jim Townsend and Dr. Red Fletcher.
Bill was staring out the window, watching for the sedan, when he felt Theena jerk next to him.
“You okay?”
Theena was holding the cell phone at arm’s length, staring as if she’d never seen one before.
“I just called Mason O’Neil, our MD.”
“What’s wrong? Is he all right?”
She looked at Bill, terror filling her eyes. “He was screaming.”
Jack Kilborn
Disturb
Dr. Mason O’Neil tried to judge how much blood he had left by looking at the puddle on the floor.
The outlook wasn’t good.
He was down at least a pint. His blood pressure was dangerously low, hypovelemic shock just around the corner. The tingling in his extremities and his rapid heartbeat confirmed the diagnosis.
Mason tried, once again, to put some pressure on his brachial artery to staunch the bleeding. His hand was knocked away.
“Don’t prolong it, Dr. O’Neil. I have other things to do today.”
His tormentor paced before him, like an expectant father in a waiting room, constantly checking his watch. David. When Mason had let him into his apartment fifteen minutes ago, he couldn’t have predicted this turn of events.
“I’ve done nothing to you. In fact, I always considered you a friend.”
“You conduct experiments on all of your friends?”
Mason’s mouth was dry; his tongue felt like a paper towel. It was getting harder to speak.
“You volunteered. All you had to do was say you wanted out.”
David sneered. “And go back to prison. Some choice.”
The doctor watched the blood run down his fingertips, still flowing freely from the deep wound on his wrist. Drip. Drip. Drip. Like sand in an hour glass, each passing second bringing him closer to death.
“So why are you still taking the drug? If you’re so against the experiment, why are you still using N-Som?”
David appeared confused.
“I’m not.”
“I can see the pill bottle, in your coat pocket.”
David shoved the bottle father down, as if it shamed him.
“You treated us like lab rats.”
“But you’re not in the lab now. Your free. So why are you still taking it?”
David’s face became pinched. He nervously twiddled the scalpel in his fingers.
“It’s addictive.”
O’Neil let out a slow, soft breath. He was getting sleepy.
“We both know it’s not addictive. You’re taking it because you want to. Because the experiment is important to you.”
The MD gently lifted his wrist above heart level, a pathetic attempt to stave the flow. David didn’t notice.
“If the experiment is so important, why am I killing everyone involved?”
Mason’s thinking was becoming blurry, and he couldn’t have made up a lie if he’d wanted to.
“Because you’re out of your mind.”
David laughed. The sound was forced, but it caught and quickly escalated into an hysterical giggle. Mason shifted, again pressing his fingers deep into his brachial artery. His pulse was rapid, weak.
“Okay, Doc. I’m crazy. I’ll admit it. But you did it to me.”
“I didn’t know, David. No one did.”
“Dr. Fletcher knew. Good old Red knew for a long time.”
“He didn’t tell us. If he had, we would have stopped this. No one wanted to hurt you.”
David knocked his hand away. Mason groaned, the blood coursing through his arm and spurting. It sounded like a small squirt gun.
“Do I have to cut off your fingers to get you to stop that? Consider yourself lucky. I skinned Townsend, and Red is hanging by his intestines in the forest preserve. I’m letting you off easy.”
Mason’s head titled forward. His eyes were rheumy.
“I’m going to die.”
“That’s the point.”
“Manny wouldn’t want me to die.”
David bit his knuckle. He paced away from the doctor, then back again.
“Call an ambulance.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You can still help me.”
“No help!” David pointed at him, his finger accusing.
“Please, David.”
“You know how N-Som is made?”
Mason knew. They all knew. The fact that Rothchilde had somehow passed the FDA’s pharmacological review was amazing. The president of DruTech couldn’t have done it honestly.
“You know how it’s made, and you let me take it anyway.”
“You volunteered.”
“Not for this.” David’s eyes took a trip somewhere. Somewhere horrible. “I’ve seen things, Doc. Things no one alive has seen. Can you imagine?”
Mason couldn’t imagine. Once was bad enough.
