Moonlight Medicine: Inoculation Page 5

  “This is interesting, don’t you think, Evie?” said Kim.

  The room was a bastion of tile in the sea of carpeting of the basement and had ornately styled windows that looked into both the office area and recreational area of the basement. The room stood devoid of furniture, and Evelyn was a bit baffled as to its original purpose. “I suppose it could have been a kind of fancy kennel for dogs at one time, but with some counters, cabinets, and a bench, it would make a great home laboratory.”

  “It’s like a conservatory, but only without the plants…or access to natural light,” David mused.

  “Maybe that’s what it was. Maybe it was a marijuana grow room,” offered Evelyn.

  Kim looked at Evelyn, eyebrows raised and a frown weighing down the corners of her lips. “Do you really think so?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure, but with some UV lamps, anything is possible.”

  “How are the bedrooms?”

  Evelyn leveled an unhappy look at David. “Few.”

  David quirked an eyebrow, and Kim perked up her ears.

  “What do you mean few?” he asked.

  “I mean that there are less than would be ideal. Come see for yourself.”

  David and Kim followed Evelyn upstairs and then to the second story where they all bustled from one bedroom with two twin beds to the other with a single double bed. David’s things were in the room with the double bed and Evelyn’s belongings were stacked and hung in the closet of the bedroom with the twin beds in it. None of Kim’s belongings were present, but since she lived in Tennessee it would be more difficult to transport them up.

  Kim glanced from one bedroom to the other with a forlorn expression, her eyes moistening. Evelyn felt bad for the girl. Kim had been having an awful few weeks and now she probably felt like a squeaky third wheel, so Evelyn spontaneously turned to Kim and gave her an enthusiastic hug.

  “Roomies!”

  10

  In truth, Evelyn wasn’t at all thrilled to be sharing a bedroom with anyone, let alone Kim, but she consoled herself with the idea that she would be spending most of her time at the lab. The other slight complication was the single full bathroom for the three of them. It was a large bathroom, but it was still a strain to only have one shower. There was significant discussion of contacting Roberto for additional accommodations or attempting to convert the basement into a bedroom for David. But in the end they all agreed that they should all sleep upstairs, leaving Evelyn and Kim to be the obvious choice to bunk together. Once that was settled, they took turns showering and changing into more familiar and comfortable clothing with Kim borrowing her wardrobe from Evelyn in the short term, although Evelyn promised to go shopping with Kim in the very near future if her own clothing was much longer in coming.

  Evelyn wanted to head down to the office area and go through some of her files as well as check her e-mail to see if she had replies from different viral researchers whom she’d queried in the past few weeks. It was around two-thirty in the afternoon and none of them had eaten anything since breakfast, so David offered to make some macaroni and cheese. Kim wandered down into the basement as Evelyn was going through files.

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  Evelyn didn’t look up from her sorting. “I don’t think so.”

  “Listen, Evie, I’ve been thinking. I have a lot of lab experience. I mean I’m not a viral or genetics expert, but I know which end of the pipette is up and I’m a fast learner.”

  Evelyn was distracted by a missing printout that she couldn’t locate in the shuffle of papers. “Uh huh.”

  “What I’m trying to say is, I want to help you in the lab.”

  This got Evelyn’s attention and she set down the files carefully and turned to Kim. Her immediate reaction was that the idea was a terrible one. They were already going to be stuck together as roommates, so there was no reason to spend even more time together. But Evelyn had to stop and take a step back emotionally. Since her difficult research was going to be split between two projects as it was, finding a cure and discovering the infectious source of the mutant, she really could use all the help she could get. Evelyn knew that Kim had been a graduate student at the University of Tennessee, but she couldn’t recall what she had been researching.

  “What was your project in the lab?”

  Kim looked down sheepishly. “Looking at the role of myosin proteins in the intracellular transport of organelles in Vallisneria.”

  “Vallisneria?”

  “Eelgrass.”

  Evelyn tried to keep her face neutral. “Plant cells.”

  “Like I said, I haven’t been studying anything like this virus, but I know my way around a lab and I can follow protocols.”

  Evelyn considered her options in dealing with Kim’s request. Her first option was to deny the girl her clear desire to help and relegate her to, at best, becoming part of the team trying to track down more information on the strays and the Vulke’s recent activity, or at worst, several weeks of boredom and uselessness. Her second option was to offer to let Kim come into the lab and let her do some of the mundane tasks such as cleaning and ordering supplies, which would hopefully make Kim feel useful without Evelyn having to spend too much time training her. The third option was to accept Kim’s help entirely and get to work training her on working with human cells and human DNA. To help her decide, Evelyn had an idea and she picked up the envelopes with the hair samples from Zachary and Caroline that she had brought down and set them on the desk.

  “These are the hair samples I collected yesterday. If I gave these to you to start processing in the lab, what do you think the first steps would be?”

  Kim brightened up and stared at the envelopes thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, probably first we’d want to extract the DNA, and find the parts that have viral DNA mixed in…maybe using viral primers? Or do you look for wolf DNA?”

  Kim’s answer was logical.

  “We look for the wolf DNA. I’m trying to find it so that I can splice it out along with the viral DNA. More like gene therapy than a vaccine.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Good. I guess that makes you my new lab assistant.”

  “Oh thank you, Evie! I’ve wanted to help so bad, but I’ve just felt so—“

  “Useless? Been there, so I know what a lousy feeling that is.”

  Kim nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Well, there isn’t much time, since we’re meeting with Dr. Jonson tomorrow, but here are some articles to get you started on your new project.”

  Evelyn reached into one of the folders and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, handing them over to the other woman. Kim’s eyes widened at the imposing stack, but she recovered from her momentary shock and took the papers from Evelyn. “At least I won’t have to write a thesis.”

  Evelyn smiled at her just as David called down the stairs to say that lunch was ready. Kim began to hurry up the stairs then glanced back at Evelyn. “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  As she watched Kim disappear up the steps, Evelyn wondered if she had made a mistake in trusting Kim in the lab and committing herself to spend so much time in close quarters with the other girl. Evelyn took her time straightening a stack of papers.

  Too late now.

  *

  After their late lunch, they scattered about the condo: Evelyn retreated to the basement to continue organizing and preparing for getting into the lab the next day, Kim sank onto the couch in the living room to dig into the articles that Evelyn had given her, and David sat at the kitchen table and comprised lists of questions to ask other packs about the stray situation and to ask the strays themselves. He also brought his laptop down from where he’d found it in the bedroom to scan for more reports of strange sightings or animal attacks from the previous lunar cycle.

  Several hours passed in relative silence, so when the land line of the condo rang it startled all three of them. Evelyn stared at the cordless handset in its charging st
ation for three rings before answering, because she didn’t have any idea who would have the number, let alone be calling it, and the caller I.D. was no help, reading only “private”. In the end, she decided that it was more important to answer it in case it was some kind of emergency. Biting the inside of her cheek and with white-knuckled fingers, she picked up the device and pressed the answer button.

  “Hello?”

  Evelyn tried to disguise her voice in a higher tone and sound relaxed and airy, but none of her efforts fooled the person on the other end of the line.

  “Evie, darlin’! It’s good to hear your voice. Roberto tells me that I’ve missed a few things that you would bring mw up to speed on.”

  Evelyn’s bottom lip trembled and she let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Clem.”

  11

  Nicolas had only been on American soil for a few hours when the news of the botched assassination attempt at the meeting of the Betas reached him. He shook with fury, not just because it was sloppy and exposed the Vulke and their intentions to the other packs, but because Taras was going to blame him for it despite the fact that he hadn’t even been in the same country when it happened. But that didn’t matter to Taras; all that mattered to him was that he had recently assigned Nicolas head of the American campaign, so any snafus were his fault. The perpetrator had not even been a member of the Vulke, but one of the zealots from the Anubis pack, but Nicolas knew all that was without consequence.

  Even though he hated to be overseas, especially smack dab in the middle of the idiocy and decadence that was the United States, Nicolas knew that Taras had sent him because the Wahya pack, their arrogant sidekicks the Amaruq, and their bastard offshoot the Inali were the only true threats to the Vulke revolution. Even Roberto could not hold the packs together if those packs should fall, and it was an honor to be given the responsibility of destroying them. That there was already a lynchpin in place, ready to topple the entire miserable lot of them, did not diminish that honor.

  Nicolas peered out the window at the drab landscape of factories and billboards. It was his first trip to America, and so far he was not impressed. The training facility he was being taken to was in Gary, Indiana. He understood that it was in an industrial center, so the factories were expected, but it was the cloying, banal ads on the billboards that made Nicolas grind his teeth. Americans had so much, yet they always wanted more, and the rest of the world wanted what America had. He was all too familiar with the way black market Levis jeans and pirated DVDs flew off his shelves back when he had been in the import business. Nicolas was only sorry that he likely wouldn’t live long enough to see the true Vulke revolution when the Vulke would not only dominate the other packs, but the human world as well. It would have to be enough to be a vital part of the beginning, and with luck and skill he would see at least the Vulke’s victory over the other packs.

  When the mind-numbing scenery seemed to go on forever, Nicolas finally turned to the driver. “How long?”

  “We’re about twenty kilometers out, Sir.”

  In the back seat, Nicolas closed his eyes and thought about things that he would have to accomplish in the next few weeks, all of his tasks before the next lunar cycle. Unfortunately, he couldn’t focus solely on what the other packs were doing, so he would have to rely on others to watch them and report back. His main task was to make sure that the training centers were all at or near capacity and functioning as desired to increase the animal instincts of the strays and dampen their human tendencies. Without knowledge of what had been happening to them, and what was going to happen to them around the next full moon, control of the rage that accompanied the Wolfkin transformation was almost impossible, however, it was all but assured with the prior dehumanization. Since Taras preferred most of his pack to have little control during the change, so that none could best him in a challenge, it was a well-practiced strategy within the Vulke, and had served them well in the past.

  In addition to checking the training facilities, Nicolas had to negotiate and secure a site for the battle to take place, and acquire transport to and from the site for all of the strays and other Vulke troops. The logistics of the fight would be tricky, and he would have to rely on the desire of the other packs to remain hidden from society at large and avoid killing innocents. His preference was to take the battle to Michigan, the heart of the Wahya pack, to make the Vulke triumph even more poignant, and he was certain that the other packs would agree thinking they would have the best advantage there.

  The car pulled off the expressway and drove down several surface streets that went from ugly and dangerous city streets to a less populated industrial area to an abandoned manufacturing plant at the end of a crumbling concrete drive. They parked inside an old supply shed to mask their presence. Two other beat-up vans with darkly tinted windows were already in the shed, but other than the hidden vehicles there were no outward signs of occupation. Nicolas was pleased by this, and smiled as he exited the vehicle and followed the driver a short distance to the main building. The metal door boasted a new and formidable lock, and the driver reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and extracted a key that was attached to the garment by a keyring on a length of elastic. He pulled the elastic tight as he unlocked the door, and he carefully replaced the key in his pocket as he pulled the door open, its creaking metal hinges making a harsh sound that echoed loudly in the vast hollow interior of the building. The man entered first and motioned Nicolas to follow him, then shut the door quickly behind them, relocking it with the key.

  While the man worked to secure the door, Nicolas took in the interior of the building. They were in an entry hallway that was only separated from the rest of the building by metal walls that fell well short of the three story tall ceiling, and was lit solely by the natural light coming through distant windows far up on the exterior walls. The floor was dirty concrete and the hallway led to another metal door with a small broken window. As they approached the second door a man’s face appeared in the window space. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes, prodigious scruff on his face, and dark, greasy hair that hadn’t seen a shower in several days. A surly demeanor went along with his unkempt appearance, but as Nicolas got closer to the door the sour look on his face was replaced by one of respect and not a little fear.

  “Sir, welcome, we are ready for your inspection.”

  The grubby man reached through the window and hurried to unlock the inner door with a key from the outside. When he had the door unlocked he held it wide for the other two men to enter, and Nicolas noted that the inner deadbolt latch was missing. Again he approved since it would be difficult for anyone to enter or exit the building via this door without having both the key to the inner door and the key to the outer door. He only hoped that his men were smart enough not to allow one individual to have both keys. Nicolas filed it away as a minor detail that he would ask about later, but for now he was anxious to see the rest of the facility.

  The inner door opened up to a larger area of the factory floor which was littered with various bits of old, rusty machinery and metal drums. In one corner was a cot with a threadbare blanket and lumpy pillow, near that a microwave had been set up on one of the drums next to a small, humming refrigerator. The only other sign of inhabitance was a lopsided table with a single metal folding chair. There were two open doorways at the far end of the area and one about midway along the left side. After the guard closed and locked the door he turned and led Nicolas and his driver towards one of the openings at the far end. As they passed the opening on the left wall, Nicolas noted that it was a bathroom lacking a door. The doorway that the guard led them to revealed a stairwell with metal steps leading both up and down.

  “Go down two flights then turn right and go down the hallway until you get to the elevator. Take that down another three floors. Sasha will be waiting there to give you the tour.”

  Nicolas and his companion followed the guard’s instructions and were greeted by a man in black fatigues as they exited th
e elevator. Nicolas guessed this was Sasha, and even before the man spoke, Nicolas hated his wide, smug smile. His unctuous and disrespectful behavior reminded Nicolas of his old business partner whose betrayal had landed Nicolas in a Siberian Gulag camp.

  “Nicolas! Such an honor to have you here to take a tour of our little operation. My name is Sasha and I am in charge here. I am sure that you will find everything to your liking. We have a nearly full capacity of thirty-two male whelps. We did have a few women initially, but sadly they didn’t last very long.”

  Sasha shook his head in mock sorrow and Nicolas internally cursed the man for his idiocy. Sure the women strays were not as strong as the men, but were capable of eliciting a measure of sympathy in the battlefield and were going to be necessary in the long term to grow pack numbers in a purer fashion.

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  Sasha either didn’t pick up on Nicolas’s displeasure or was ignoring it. “Truly. Well, let us not delay the tour any longer, although you will have to wait until nightfall to observe an actual training session. We do them only at night, so the whelps don’t even see a sliver of daylight.”

  Sasha bragged as if this had been his own personal brainchild, when Nicolas was the one who suggested it when the training centers were first being talked about and designed. Nicolas vowed that he would do all in his power to see that Sasha and his strays were right at the front of the line when the fighting started, and could only hope that the man’s overconfidence and bravado would get him killed.

  12

  Clem’s voice, though weak and rough through the receiver, was still unmistakably his.

  “It’s so wonderful to hear your voice!”

  “Well, they tell me that I’m im-prov-ing daily. And don’t you worry yourself none, I’ll be fit to fight when the time comes.”