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Smoke on the Water Page 5
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“Was it good for you?” he asked, the inflection in his voice making her laugh.
“You know the answer to that one.” She flexed around him, making them both give a sharp intake of breath as their bodies echoed the pleasure that had claimed them so completely.
“You rocked my world, sweetheart.” He rolled with her in his arms, disengaging them as he got to his feet with her held securely in his arms. The man was strong in ways she’d never experienced with another man. Of course, she’d never dated a superhuman sort of ex-soldier before.
He started for the bedroom, a mischievous expression on his handsome face.
“Where are we going?” she asked out of curiosity, though she knew darn well there was a soft mattress in her near future.
“Taking you to bed.”
“Bed? Why?” She toyed with the light dusting of hair on his chest, acting coy.
“I told you, Donna. You rocked my world.” He paused at the door to the bedroom to look into her eyes. “Let’s do it again.”
*
In the hour before dawn, Dr. Elizabeth Bemkey looked out from her balcony at the corpses gathered in her backyard. It was marvelous to have them follow her orders. Especially him. The bastard. Her husband and his so-called girlfriend, Claudette.
Lizzie had killed the bastard first with a quick injection to the jugular. She’d enjoyed watching him writhe on the ground, all the while knowing who had brought him death. She’d laughed as he died, holding her gaze. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to repay the pain he’d given her.
She’d stalked the bimbo out on the patio next. Skinny Claudette with her massive breast implants had been easy to surprise. A quick jab to the chest and not only had Claudette been injected with the deadly contagion, but Lizzie had taken great joy in deflating one of the bimbo’s boobs a full cup size with aid of the needle and a lovely, spurting, slow leak.
Since then, the other zombies had had their fun with weak little Claudette. She was looking much worse for wear nowadays. The string bikini she’d been wearing when Lizzie had killed her was dirty and torn. Those prize melons had been gnawed by half the zombie population and her once pretty face was pretty no more.
Served the bitch right for stealing Lizzie’s husband.
She looked out over her creations, gathered to receive her orders in the backyard. Besides the bastard and the bimbo there was fat Bubba from the infamous Bass Tours, the gardener, and a few odd fishermen who’d been savaged by her pets over the past day or two.
“My little army is growing. Soon, my friends. Soon you will be unleashed on the world.” She laughed to herself, the creatures looking up at her with blind devotion.
She liked this change her friend Sellars had engineered in them. Where he’d found the brains to alter the original formula, she didn’t know. She never would know now. Last she’d heard, their colleague Dr. Rodriguez had gotten impatient with Sellars and had him killed. Pity that. She would have liked to pick his brain about the improvements he’d already made to the formula. It was her goal to make it even better.
For one thing, she didn’t dare go near the creatures. She kept them locked out of the house and only addressed them from up here as a precaution. They seemed docile enough for now, but she wondered when or if they’d tire of following her orders. Still, it didn’t matter. They were hers for now and she was enjoying tormenting the bastard and his bimbo especially.
Those two really made her mad. She paced as she fumed, her anger growing. She hated her husband with every last fiber of her being.
“Go jump in the lake!” she yelled down to them. She began to cackle hysterically when they turned and followed her orders, walking slowly in their shuffling gait until they were all fully submerged in the water.
With any luck, they’d stay there until tomorrow night. She had plans for them, but she had to put a few things in place first.
Chapter Three
The phone woke John not long after dawn. He wasn’t scheduled to check in with base until later in the day. Unscheduled phone calls were never a good sign.
“John, it’s Matt Sykes. Things have changed. All hell broke loose here at Fort Bragg last night. I can’t spare any personnel to assist you, but we may have another solution. Do you still want in on the combat team?”
“More than ever.” John was confused. Matt Sykes had been adamant about not allowing any but immune personnel on the combat side of the team. “But how?”
“Can you two get to Knoxville by oh-nine hundred?”
John did a quick mental calculation. “Yes, sir. I believe we can.”
“Good. I’m sending Dr. Daniels to meet you there. She’ll explain. And I’m giving you a two-man cleanup team. They should be arriving in Cookeville in a few hours. They’ll stay there and commute out when needed.”
John didn’t need to be told why the cleanup team was positioning themselves in Cookeville. The town was big enough that no one would question their presence. Out in the countryside by the lake, they would probably stick out like a sore thumb. For secrecy’s sake, it was better to have them stay in the larger town.
He ended the call with Commander Sykes after being given detailed instructions on where and how to meet Dr. Daniels. John knew Mariana Daniels. They’d been introduced when he joined the team. She was a general practitioner who had been sucked into this mission during the initial infestation at Quantico. She’d been working with the research scientists ever since and John knew her to be a competent professional with a good head on her shoulders. She was also engaged to one of the combat team members, a former Navy SEAL named Simon Blackwell.
When he returned to the bedroom to get his clothes, Donna was awake—just barely. She rubbed her eyes as she blinked against the dappled early morning sun coming in through the window.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Time to get up.” He leaned in to kiss her awake, taking his time but not giving in to the impulse to lay down with her again. If he did that, they’d never get on the road. He straightened and reached for his clothes.
“Did I hear the phone ring?”
“Yeah. It was Commander Sykes. We have to go to Knoxville today. We’re meeting Dr. Daniels there at nine.”
Donna sat up in the bed, looking adorably rumpled. “Why?”
“He said she would fill us in. Apparently the problems have escalated over at Fort Bragg. They’re not going to be able to send us much help, though he did promise a two-man cleanup team would be here sometime today. Dr. Daniels is supposed to explain more when we meet her.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of that.” She shot him a worried look.
He smiled at her, tugging her hand to help her stand. He put his arms around her, settling his hands on the warm skin of her back and that luscious ass of hers.
“It’ll be okay.”
“If you say so.”
He let her rest her head in the crook of his neck for a moment. It felt so good to have her in his arms, he couldn’t complain. But time was short. They had to get on the road. Pulling away, he tried to calm her unspoken fears, but only time—and discovering what awaited them in Knoxville—would really solve the problem.
They were able to relax a little on the drive to Knoxville. They made it in plenty of time with a stop for breakfast along the way. Donna was subdued. He could tell she was worried about the unexpected detour to Knoxville. He tried to draw her out as they sat in the waiting room of the VA clinic waiting for Dr. Daniels to arrive.
“What has you tied up in knots, sweetheart?” He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. John liked being able to touch her whenever the mood struck him. After being so careful to keep his hands to himself for the past days, it was a relief.
“I’m not crazy about hospitals and doctor’s offices. Even after I woke up in the woods, I thought long and hard before I went to the campus clinic.”
“Why? I mean, I don’t find hospitals particularly pleasant either, but
when you need help, you need help.”
“My dad went in for a simple hernia operation a few years back and ended up with a staph infection it took months to cure. They say hospitals are clean, but you can catch some really nasty stuff in them.”
He nodded. That explained a lot. He would’ve said more but Dr. Daniels walked through the door and spotted them. She came over, greeting them both, and taking them back with her into the treatment area.
“They’ve given me a private room for the day. Longer, if we need it,” she explained as they went into a room and she shut the door firmly behind them. She dropped her big briefcase and a cooler bag on a side table and leaned against the bed, facing them. “Here’s the deal. Some very bad stuff went down at Fort Bragg last night. Commander Sykes really can’t give you any of the immune combat team. He’s not being stingy. He really can’t spare them right now. Dr. McCormick and I have been running tests on your blood, John. We’ve been comparing it to your sister’s blood. Her natural immunity versus your very close blood match is helping us figure out the way the immune response is triggered. While it’s possible you might also prove to be naturally immune, Dr. McCormick and I think we can speed up the process and also make it considerably less painful.”
John brightened. “You can make me immune to the contagion?”
If they could manage to do that, his problems would be solved. He could go out in the field and face the zombies head-on. No more pussyfooting around behind the scenes. He could join the combat side of this mission, where he really belonged.
Dr. Daniels nodded slowly. “I believe so. We’ve done extensive testing and if you’re willing, we can do the treatment today. There are some risks, of course. Worst-case scenario, you could die and rise again, at which point, I’d dose you with toxin and you’d end up like the other zombies.”
Donna’s hand stole into his, squeezing. She was trembling and he knew she was afraid for him. The thought of it touched him deeply.
“What are his chances, Doctor?” Donna asked quietly.
Dr. Daniels looked from their joined hands to Donna’s worried face and John knew it was clear they were involved. Oddly, he didn’t mind that the doctor knew. He’d have shouted it from the rooftops if he could. The night spent with Donna had changed him. He usually ran when women got the least bit proprietary, yet every second of Donna’s concern made him want her more.
“I believe the process will work. I’d estimate he has about a seventy-five-percent chance of walking out of this immune and healthy. There’s about a twenty-percent chance that we’ve made a miscalculation somewhere and he might end up ill, but not in fatal condition. And a five-percent chance of the worst.”
“I can live with those odds.” John wanted to do this. He felt useless being kept out of the field. The small taste of action he’d gotten when Donna was in trouble had only driven home how badly he wanted to be able to fight these bastards and keep her out of the line of fire, if at all possible. He felt strongly that if his baby sister was immune, he should be too.
Dr. Daniels smiled at him. “I think you can live with them too, John. I would never have suggested this course of treatment if I really thought you’d die from it. Dr. McCormick and I have a strong belief in this and if it works the way we think it will, your experience will also go a long way toward helping our research.”
“So he’s a human guinea pig?” Donna’s tone was challenging. His little vixen had sharp teeth when provoked.
Dr. Daniels sighed. “In a sense, yes. But it’s his choice.” Her attention turned back to him. “What do you say, John?”
He looked at Donna’s worried face and decided to at least pretend to think about it for her sake. “How long will it take?”
“I can administer the shots this morning and monitor you through the process. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours. You can probably go back to the lake by tonight. It’s likely you’ll sleep most of the day while your body adjusts. I’ll have to wake you every few hours to take blood samples, but otherwise, it should be relatively painless. We’re operating on the theory that a small amount of a watered-down version of the contagion will provoke the immune response in your body. Like a vaccine. Since your blood chemistry is so similar to your sister’s and she’s already proven immune, we expect you to do well. Just in case, I’ll be administering a series of antigens first that we refined from your sister’s blood. Since you’re the same blood type and genetically very similar, the chance of rejection is incredibly low. We’ll wait for them to circulate through your blood, then administer the inactive version of the contagion and monitor your blood for developments. Since this contagion inspires such a rapid reaction, it should be over within a few hours at most.”
John turned to Donna. “I want to do this.”
“I’m worried,” she admitted, breaking his heart with the expression in her beautiful eyes.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “It’ll be okay. I have every confidence in Dr. Daniels and Dr. McCormick. If they both agree this will work, who am I to argue?” He gave her a smile, glad when she returned the gesture.
“You trust them with your life?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she stepped closer to him.
John thought about it and realized he did. “I’ve researched every member of this team. You know how I love to research.” He rolled his eyes, and was pleased when she smiled back faintly. “McCormick is brilliant. She saved one life already with her magic serum.”
“But Dr. McCormick was part of the original science team that started this whole nightmare. How can you trust her with your life?” Donna’s expression was agonized.
“I wasn’t on the team,” Dr. Daniels’s voice intruded on their moment, but he didn’t mind. He could use her help convincing Donna this was the way to go. “I was a general practitioner until I got involved in this. I wouldn’t endorse this course of action unless I thought it was the right thing to do. I wouldn’t have even come here if I thought this was just another experiment. It’s not. Not to Eileen McCormick. And not to me.”
“Thanks, Doc. That means a lot.” John turned back to Donna. She looked skeptical but better than she had before. He reached down and kissed her lightly, reassuringly, despite the doctor’s presence. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
Donna threw her arms around him, hugging him tight for just a few seconds. She drew back and her eyes were suspiciously bright. “If you die on me, I’ll haunt you, John Petit.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?” He enjoyed her tough spirit.
“You die on me and I’ll change all the rules. See if I don’t.”
“Then I’ll have to be sure not to die, won’t I?” One last hug and she let him go. “All right, Doc. Let’s do this.”
“Okay.” The doctor straightened from her leaning position and got to work. “Strip down to your boxers and get on the bed.”
“Now that’s a sentence a man doesn’t hear every day with two pretty women in the room.”
Both of the women in question laughed and the serious mood was tempered. He stripped quickly, throwing the clothes at one of the chairs in the room. He didn’t complain when Donna—bless her tidy little heart—took each piece and folded it neatly, placing his clothes in the small closet built into one wall.
“We’ll start with the antigens and wait a bit for them to spread through your system. If you change your mind after that, no harm done. The point of no return will be after the nonactive contagion is administered.”
“Okay, Doc.” John got on the bed and held out his arm. “Shoot me up.”
Dr. Daniels laughed at his antics and gave him a series of three shots in rapid succession while Donna watched from the foot of the bed.
“How are we doing, John?” Dr. Daniels asked as she took his blood pressure and checked his pulse.
“We’re just fine and dandy, Doc. What’s next?”
“Whoa, tiger.” She put his han
d on his shoulder when he tried to sit up. “You’re staying prone for now. Give the antigens a chance to circulate. If you aren’t dizzy in a few minutes, you can stand up and do some stretches to help increase blood flow.”
Dr. Daniels stayed in the room, as did Donna, checking his vitals every few minutes and making notes.
“This is getting old, Doc,” he groused good-naturedly. “I’m not used to all this boring inactivity.”
“Think of it as the calm before the storm, John. Once we boost your immunity to the next level, you probably won’t have another free moment until this is all over.”
“Will I gain all those nifty side effects like the super-healing?” The thought occurred to him belatedly.
“We believe so. We’re basically re-creating your sister’s immune response, only speeding it up.”
“Would this work for other people?” Donna asked. “Is this a way to make the contagion work the way it was supposed to? I mean, wasn’t the original intent to create something that would boost healing?”
“Unfortunately not. This is a one-shot deal. It’ll work on John—and maybe on other members of his close family, now that I think about it. Nobody else.” She took his pulse again and stepped back. “You can sit up, but take it slow.” He sat up as she observed. “Any dizziness?”
“None,” he reported.
Dr. Daniels had him stand and then walk around, each time checking him over before she’d let him do the next thing. Eventually, she sent him back to bed.
“Rest up for a little while. You’re making good progress. We’ll just wait a few more minutes before we take the next step.”
“John, are you sure about this?” Donna couldn’t help but ask. The closer he got to taking that final step, the more she worried.
Dr. Daniels looked from Donna to John and back again. “I’m going to step outside. When I come back, I’ll confirm your readings and then if you’re still prepared to proceed, we’ll do the final injection.”