With the voices receding as I retraced my steps, I arrived back at the junction and cringed at the sound of footsteps coming from all around, hoping they were from Cassie and Alex and not the patrol returned from the duties.
Instead of following in their footsteps, I took off to the right, the tunnel much the same as the previous.
Reaching the turn at the end, a mirror image of the last, I found, instead of another corridor with rooms off to the side, a white plastic sheet blocked the route.
I slowed at the sound of voices, two women this time, one of which had Jess’s unmistakable tone.
Taking care as I stepped closer, I approached the sheet, stopping when I heard her words.
“I can bring Cassie to you.”
Despite being stunned by what she’d said, I turned at the sound of steps at my back to see Thompson soaked through and pointing a pistol in my direction.
“Drop your weapon,” he said, as water dripped to the floor from his clothes.
83
JESSICA
“Where is she?” I said, but Doctor Lytham just stared back from a few paces across the room. In the bright light of the workman’s lamps pointing to the white walls in place of the dark strip lights high in the ceiling, she looked to my wrists bound with the manacles screwed tight to the fresh concrete walls. Turning to my face, she seemed to examine every detail as if looking for differences manifested since we’d last met.
I tried to relax against the tension in the straps, but with my mouth the only part of me not secured with thick leather bounds, I found it hard to fight the rising helplessness despite knowing at any time I could call the hunger from the pit of my stomach and snap the leather like they were made of paper.
I had to bide my time.
I had to wait until she was here and gave the answers I needed.
So I let the doctor linger her examination on my face, peering as I stared back in search of similarities with her daughter. Despite having seen Toni on the roof through the camera, I was desperate to see her with my own eyes.
“Where are the children?” I asked with growing impatience at her examination, but when she continued to stare, squinting as if to take in more detail, I turned my attention to the room.
A great round space with raw unfinished walls, the room was split in two with curtains forming four cubicles along the far wall. All but one at the end had the mint green fabric pulled across, but I guessed each would have the same bed and medical equipment inside. Only the thick leather straps fixed to the bed wouldn’t be at home in an emergency department.
Splitting the room in two were tall stainless-steel tables, the type found in commercial kitchens. In addition, two more stood at the left wall with the edges taped with packing foam.
Great beakers and twisting glass tubes stood on the two tables in the centre, along with small microwave-sized machines, their power cords running off to sockets hanging from the ceiling. Two large fume cupboards sat against the near wall with protective packaging across the glass and nothing connected to the stubby end of the ducting rising from the top.
Stacks of tall stools lined the wall as if the place would soon be home for many people, but the speed of infection had caught them by surprise.
Spread out equally along the walls were four doorways, each with a plastic sheet only in part covering the great steel banding around the edges, as if heavy metal doors you’d expect to see on a warship or submarine were waiting to be fitted.
“Is this where the cure came to life?” I asked as I finished looking around the room.
The doctor’s stern smile faltered. “What do you know of the cure?” she said, squinting.
I tipped my head to the side as a weary smile rose back to her lips.
“Cassie’s alive,” I said, forcing myself not to take joy in knowing something the doctor was interested in.
“Who?” she said, and I repeated the name.
Doctor Lytham pulled out a notepad from the white pocket of her coat and flicked through the pages.
“You can have her if you let the children go,” I replied, watching the doctor’s expression with care.
Her smile rose as she lingered on a page. “Ah, B23A,” she said.
“I can bring her to you.”
Her eyes rushed wide and she looked to the curtained bays before turning back, her smile absent. “Where is she?”
My reply dried up to the sound of scuffling feet and the figure pushing through the plastic sheet.
84
LOGAN
“How the hell...?” I said, stumbling forward with a jab of the rifle’s muzzle as I fell through the plastic sheet. “She saved your life.”
“Yes. And that’s why they need to make more of her,” Thompson replied in a low voice.
Clear of the plastic confines, I was about to ask Thompson how the hell he’d managed to survive and if he’d listened to anything we’d said on the boat, but on seeing the round room and the figure strapped to the wall in the heavy leather straps, I was stunned into inaction.
Only as I gawked at the eyes of the figure held could I tell it was Jess. A great knot bunched in my stomach at how she’d been taken so easily and that our journey had come to such an abrupt end.
The thought dropped as I spotted the other figure in the room. With her grey hair flowing down her white coat, I realised it was Doctor Lytham standing just
