The Cure. Part 29

"Leah? Are you all right?"

John again. Still talking. Repeating himself over and over. Like a rabbit.

No. Not a rabbit. That doesn't make sense!

She looked at him. He was frowning.

"John. You're not a rabbit."

His frown deepened. Why? Had she said something to make him angry? She tried to think. He'd said something. How are you all Leah, right?

That didn't make sense. There was only one of her.

Oh! He must be drugged too.

"John. Did they drug you too?" She spoke slowly so he'd understand.

It worked. His frown disappeared. He shook his head.

"No, I guess they only drugged you. But that explains a lot. You should go sit down and rest."

"Okay." Rest sounded good. She was sleepy. She lowered herself to the floor. Placed her head on her arms.

Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up.

Four men watched Leah DeGarmo fall asleep. Three of them wore green uniforms; the other a tailored black suit. The youngest of the soldiers, a red-haired man in his twenties with the triple stripes of a sergeant on his shoulders, sat in front of a series of computer consoles. The other two, one bearing the twin bars of a captain and the other with the single star of a brigadier general, stood behind the sergeant with the man in the suit, their eyes on the largest of the three computer screens.

"The dose is too high," the man in the suit said.

"I'm not sure we should go lower," replied the captain. "According to Marsh's report, she has the ability to heal herself rapidly. If we reduce the concentration of the sedative she's breathing, we risk her being able to activate her powers."

The general's eyes never left the screen as he considered the words of the two other men. Finally, he spoke.

"Sergeant, how quickly can you raise the sedative concentration to where she is incapacitated?"

The sergeant tapped a red b.u.t.ton. "If I hit the emergency switch, I can flood the room with enough gas to knock her out in fifteen seconds."

The general nodded once.

"Good enough. Lower her dosage fifteen percent. I want her aware enough so she can converse coherently, but woozy enough that you wouldn't want her handing you a hot cup of coffee."

"Yes, sir." The sergeant entered a change on the keyboard.

"Sir...?" The captain let his question hang in the air.

"Fifteen seconds," the general said. "Even if she manages to overcome the sedatives, there's no way she can do any damage before she's out cold. You've read the reports. Seen the pictures. The moment you sense anything going wrong, see her eyes start to change or whatever, just give us the signal and we'll take care of the rest."

The man in the black suit cleared his throat and spoke for the first time since they'd entered the room.

"I'll leave you to it. General, I want a report on my desk first thing in the morning."

"Yes, sir." The general snapped off a salute as the man turned and exited the room. Then he turned to the captain.

"Let's grab a coffee. I want to go over the script once more before she wakes up."

Chapter Two.

Leah said nothing as the man in the military uniform entered her room. He wore a clear plastic mask over his nose and mouth, with circular filters on either side.

She'd woken up on the floor about a half hour earlier-it was hard to tell without any clocks and with her thoughts still fuzzy-and for a moment thought she'd dreamed of talking with John through a gla.s.s wall. Then she'd realized she really was in the room from her dreams, but someone had lowered a metal panel on the other side of the gla.s.s-which turned out to be some kind of clear plastic, actually.

Feeling much less nauseated than before, she'd gotten up and inspected her cell. Approximately fifteen by fifteen, with a cot bolted to the wall. Other than that, there was a toilet in the back (which she used as soon as she saw it) and two folding chairs.

All the walls and ceiling were made of the same clear plastic, and the choice of material didn't make sense until she noticed a black box on the outside of the ceiling with several tubes running from it.

It's an airtight chamber, like the ones where people work with viruses. Not the kind with the double air-lock doors, but it's pressurized, for sure.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the uniformed man opened the door and a breeze rushed past her, accompanied by a whoos.h.i.+ng sound.

That doesn't make sense, though. She struggled to focus on the thought. It was hard; she kept getting distracted by the man's clear-plastic air mask.

The breeze blew toward the door. Out of the room. But these rooms are supposed to keep things from escaping. I'm not contaminated, though. Which means they want to keep something outside from coming in. What? The only thing outside is air...

Her eyes went to the man's mask again. He must have seen something on her face because he gave her a quick smile and a nod.

The mask. Air. Something in the air...

They're still drugging me! The machine on the ceiling. It's pumping something into the air, something to keep me sleepy.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.ds." The words came out slightly slurred, as if she'd had a couple too many drinks.

"It's for your own protection, Ms. DeGarmo," he said, his words slightly m.u.f.fled by the mask. "Well, yours and ours. We-I-want to talk with you, and it's hard to do that if we're afraid you might decide to kill everyone."

The man stepped farther into the room and took a seat in one of the folding chairs. Leah kept her eyes on him, trying to size him up despite her muddled brain. About fifty, with brown hair in a short military cut that made his ears look extra large. His eyes were a murky greenish brown, as if his head were filled with swamp water. That almost made her laugh out loud and she had to bite her lip to control it.

The man motioned to the other chair. "Please sit down. I'll answer any questions you might have."

Leah didn't want to go anywhere near the man, but moving around the room had made her tired. It would feel good to sit down. And she did have questions...

She slid the chair a few feet farther away from him and sat down. He continued to stare at her and she wondered why he didn't say anything. Then she remembered she was supposed to ask questions.

"Why...why am I here?" Even in her drug-induced haze she knew it had something to do with her Powers. But which one? And what was their plan for using it?

The man smiled. "First, let me introduce myself. My name is Captain Leo Green, US Army. And the reason you're here, Ms. DeGarmo, is because of the amazing things you can do."

"So you want me to, what, kill people for you?"

"No." Green shook his head. "We want to figure out how it is you do what you do. Powers like yours would be very helpful to soldiers."

Leah knew she should be scared. He was talking about studying her like some kind of lab animal. Maybe even cutting out her brain. But all she felt was numb. And tired.

"You want to study me. And what if the answer isn't in my blood? Or my cells? Then what? You kill me? Dissect my brain?"

"Honestly, I don't make those decisions, Ms. DeGarmo. My job is just to make sure you cooperate. If you do, I can make life better for you. Visits with your boyfriend. Television and movie privileges. Special meals. Maybe even some privacy." He gestured at the toilet in the back of the room.

"And if I don't cooperate? You make my life h.e.l.l, right?" Leah tried to put some anger in her voice but her words came out flat and weak, victims of the drugs in the air.

"It's better if we think positive," Green said. "Will it help if I tell you we're not planning anything more painful than a visit to the doctor? We'll draw some blood, do a few x-rays and MRIs and such. Ask you to demonstrate what you can do on a few lab animals."

"But you never let me go, do you? I'll never be free."

Green shrugged. "Freedom isn't always what it seems. Were you free before we found you? You were kidnapped by criminals who wanted to sell you into slavery. Sure, you escaped. But you were going to have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering if you were safe. Is that freedom? At least here your life isn't in danger. And neither is Mr. Carrera's." Green motioned with one hand at the far wall, where the metal panels blocked her view of John's cell.

"You don't need him." Leah felt sick knowing John was again caught up in the mess that was her life. "Let him go."

"We can't do that." Green shook his head. "Too much of a security risk. But, again, if you cooperate, then I don't see why the two of you can't share a nice apartment. Just think of it as working for us. We run the tests, and you get a life paid for by the US military."

"I don't think so." It took all her strength, but Leah forced herself to stand up and take a step toward Green. She tried to ignite the Power inside her, kick-start it to life. For a moment something flickered in her chest, the beginning of a vibration, the hint of the Death force she remembered from the events in the clinic.

She had a quick glimpse of Green's eyes going wide. His hand dipped into his pocket and she wondered if he had a weapon hidden there.

Then her feeling of triumph disappeared and the room turned black.

Captain Leo Green's finger was still inches away from the emergency trigger in his pocket when the prisoner fell onto her side. His hand shook as he turned and motioned for the door to be unlocked, the memory of DeGarmo's face still vivid in his mind.

Her eyes as she stood up. The color disappearing from them, replaced by a sickly bluish gray. A faint smell of rotten flesh, despite the mask he wore.

What would have happened if she hadn't pa.s.sed out?

Green cursed his own hesitation as he walked down the hall to meet with General Moore. He'd frozen. It was hard to accept, but it was true. The sight of DeGarmo turning into-what? a corpse? a demon?-right in front of him had done something no battlefield disaster ever had.

Can't tell anyone about this. Leaders-at least those working for General Butch Moore-don't freeze. Don't show weakness.

What would have happened if she hadn't pa.s.sed out?

I would have died.

Despite his orders to report immediately to Moore's office after the interview with DeGarmo, Green stopped at a bathroom to splash water on his face and take several deep breaths.

I would have died.

It took almost three minutes before his hands stopped shaking.

"What's your a.s.sessment, Green?"

Leo Green pointed to the video screen mounted at the far end of the room. On it, Leah DeGarmo had just woken up and was making her way to her cot on unsteady legs.

"The level of sedative is perfect. She's coherent but unable to muster any real strength. As you saw, she tried to threaten me with her powers and it was too much for her. My only concern is that in her present state, she won't be able to demonstrate those powers when we need her to."

Green sat down, leaving unvoiced his additional thought that they were all better off with DeGarmo unable to cure or kill.

"That defeats the purpose of having her here," General Butch Moore said from the head of the conference table. Beneath his gray, thinning crew cut his skin was a mottled red, lingering mementos of chemical burns he'd received while leading a top-secret mission in Iraq two decades earlier. "Can't we lower the concentration? You've got the d.a.m.ned b.u.t.ton."

"The b.u.t.ton's worthless if he can't use it," said the third man at the table, the one in the dark suit. Green had yet to learn his name, but based on his conservative haircut, tailored clothes and quiet arrogance, he figured the man must be a high-ranking member of one of the intel agencies. CIA, most likely. They had had their dirty fingers in every black op.

"Why wouldn't he-"

"Not wouldn't, couldn't," the unnamed spook interrupted. "As in, if the woman's powers come on faster, Captain Green is going to be one very dead soldier, and the rest of your men will soon follow. Or am I the only one here who noticed how badly she got the jump on him last time?"

Green's heart thumped and he tried to cover his surprise by forcing a deep scowl. "Got the jump on me?"

"Oh please. I was watching your hand, Captain. It was only halfway into your pocket when the lady keeled over. That means another two or three seconds to press the b.u.t.ton, followed by fifteen seconds before the soporific gas floods the chamber. That's close to twenty seconds. Judging by how fast she started to change, I imagine that would be more than enough time to mummify your a.s.s."

"Green? Is that right?" Moore's eyes narrowed as he waited for a response.

"Um, possibly, sir," Green conceded. Still hoping to hide his own poor response in DeGarmo's presence, he added, "But I wasn't moving at full speed. I'd already noticed how sluggish she was, and I felt confident she wouldn't have enough energy to actually pose a threat."

"You hesitated," the agent said.

"No, I reacted properly to the situation. Since you were watching, you probably also noticed that I never left my seat. Had I felt in danger, I would have not only pressed the b.u.t.ton but headed right for the door."

"Hmmm." The agent raised one eyebrow and then returned his attention to the papers in front of him.

"Well, from now on, no heroics, understand?" General Moore tapped a finger on the table. "The second she starts to change, you hit the b.u.t.ton and get the h.e.l.l out of there. Full speed."

"Yes, sir," Green said, aware he'd dodged a bullet when the agent didn't press the issue of performance.

Or cowardice. Something tells me that man is fully aware of why I didn't sound the alarm. And that means I need to watch him as closely as he's been watching me.

The nameless agent looked back up, a smile on his face that made Green feel a lot like a mouse who'd just emerged from his hole to find King Tabby staring right at him, paw raised and ready to strike.

"Well, if Captain Green is certain he can react with more alacrity than he showed today, I see no reason not to lower DeGarmo's sedative levels. Captain, first thing tomorrow we'll see if you can convince our guest to play nice."

The agent stood, nodded to them and strode out of the room, house-cat grin still plastered on his face.

It took all of Green's willpower to not groan out loud.