HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (30 page)

A pathology lab was a dangerous place. She pointed to three refrigerators with glass doors lining the back wall. ‘Stay away from those. They’re full of dangerous chemicals.’

Neve looked at Justin to make sure he understood.

He nodded.

Even Neve wouldn’t need to open them. She was looking for test results. For data. She scanned the lab and spotted a group of tables pushed together.

I bet that’s where they were collating the test results.

She rolled to the tables.

She was right.

The tables were covered in patient files and charts. She recognized her own handwriting. It was the list of medical tests she’d prioritized.

Under her list rested a stack of printed results. The staff had been so busy rushing through all the tests that they hadn’t even collated the results yet.

Neve spread the results out all over the table. The piles of paperwork completely covered the four large tables.

But it wasn’t everything she’d asked for.

They haven’t finished the tests
, Neve realized.
They didn’t have time before they were evacuated.

Also, several of the tests had been repeated.

I should have been down here
, Neve told herself.
They didn’t have enough staff to deal with everything that was happening, and I left them short-handed to be with Justin.

Neve shook her head. She’d done the right thing. When she’d brought Justin into this world, she knew that protecting him must always be her first priority.

She looked over at Justin. He now had two bodyguards. Two people who were far better equipped to protect him at the moment than herself. She’d secured that protection by agreeing to analyze this data.

Well, I’m here now. It’s time to live up to my end of the deal.

Neve set aside all other thoughts and began studying the test results. In seconds she was absorbed. Her world seemed to shrink down to just the four tables in front of her. Four tables that were covered in the most unbelievable information she’d ever seen.

This is incredible.

Truly incredible.

She knew now why some of the tests had been repeated. The results seemed impossible. Nevertheless, the same results had emerged every time.

Neve looked up.

Someone had spoken to her.

‘Sorry, what?’ she asked.

‘What have you found?’ repeated Coleman. ‘Anything useful?’

Neve felt like she was emerging from a daze. It was almost too much to take in.

‘Yes...I...I think I have. But it’s incredible. It’s hard to believe. I’m holding the proof and it’s still hard for me to believe it.’

‘Proof of what?’ prompted Coleman.

‘It’s not a disease.’

Erin broke the stunned silence. ‘Of course it is. The survivor brought it on board. It spread faster than influenza on steroids.’

Neve waved at the data. ‘There’s no unusual virus or bacteria in any of the patients’ bloodwork. Just extremely high levels of an unidentified drug.’

‘A drug?’ asked Coleman.

Neve nodded. ‘A molecule designed to perform a specific task in the body. A drug.’

‘Wait a minute,’ said Erin. ‘I know what a viral outbreak looks like. I know how they spread. I watched this one sweep through my ship. I
saw
it infect
people.’

‘The pathogen is not viral or bacterial in nature,’ Neve assured them. ‘Look. The tests were repeated again and again.’

‘Then how is it spreading?’ demanded Erin.

Neve took a deep breath.

‘I believe this is the world’s first communicable drug.’

Coleman frowned over the results. ‘You mean a drug that is contagious? A drug that spreads from person to person?’

‘Yes. A drug just like aspirin, or warfarin, or heroin. The same drug appears in every infected patient’s blood work.’

‘Wait,’ said Coleman. ‘You mean that a drug, a non-living, non-reproducing chemical is spreading from person to person around this ship and sending them berserk?’

‘Exactly, nodded Neve.

Erin looked at Neve skeptically. ‘That’s not possible, Neve. Chemicals don’t reproduce and spread. You must be missing something.’

‘You said you had proof,’ said Coleman, pointing at the files. ‘Show us.’

 Justin hated hospitals.

They made him feel vulnerable.

And he didn’t like standing still, out in the open. So far, only running and hiding had kept them alive.

Maybe we should take the medical results somewhere more secure.

Justin kept looking over his shoulder, scanning the corridors, waiting for the first crashing sounds as a mob of insane lunatics charged through the hospital.

This place is a maze.

If a pack of crazies burst through the hospital doors, Justin couldn’t see the best way to escape.

It would be chaos.

Even with the Marines’ help, Justin knew they needed a path of flight if things turned bad. His mother was the most vulnerable. She needed to keep ahead of the crazies in a wheelchair.

Justin made up his mind.

I’m finding the fastest way out of here.

Elbow-deep in medical reports, his mother didn’t need him right now. Justin looked for the Marines. Craigson and Myers weren’t hovering over him now. They had taken up defensive positions around the lab.

What’s that?

Through a doorway he glimpsed something bright yellow.

 Is that the life raft?
It must be.

He went for a closer look. The half-deflated raft looked barely capable of floating, let alone saving someone’s life.

Justin flicked aside a piece of yellow plastic with his wrench, checking inside.

It’s empty.

But the room wasn’t.

Holy shit!

He raised his wrench instinctively, but didn’t need to strike.

The woman lay on a hospital bed.

Justin lowered his wrench. He’d become so attuned to anything human-shaped being hostile that simply the sight of an unexpected person sent him into fight-or-flight mode.

This situation called for neither.

The woman looked asleep. Maybe unconscious. Maybe even dead.

She wore a hospital gown.

This must be the woman they rescued.

Justen reached out and touched her ankle. She felt cold.

She’s dead too.

Beside her rested a tray filled with clothes and personal belongings.

This stuff will be important.

Justin lifted her phone. A sealed transparent bag protected the phone.

She put her phone in this bag to keep it dry on the life raft.

Justin unsealed the bag. The phone still felt dry. It wasn’t a smart phone, but it had a small camera.

How do I turn this on?

He found the button, then searched for the charger when the phone didn’t start.

It’s out of power. The charger isn’t here.

He opened the case back and removed the sim card and micro memory card. The phone wasn’t important. Justin knew his mother needed the data
inside
the phone. The sim card and memory chip would work with almost any phone. He sealed them back in the waterproof bag and checked Elizabeth’s tray of belongings again.

A dive watch. Some keys. A digital timer. What’s this?

A photo ID?

The wet ID had stuck to the bottom of the tray. Justin tipped out the tray. The digital timer and keys fell off the bench, but Justin only wanted the photo ID.

He wiped it on his shirt.
This is important.

He knew that treating a disease often involved pinpointing its source. That meant identifying its earliest carrier.

He studied the plastic card.

Her name was Elizabeth Green. Dr. Elizabeth Green.

In the photo she had a healthy tan, straight blond hair and a pretty face. She was smiling.

Where did you come from?
Justin wondered.
Why were you alone in the middle of the ocean?

He dropped the card into the plastic bag with the phone’s memory chip.

‘What did you find?’ asked Craigson from the doorway. The two Marines entered. Myers stopped to examine the yellow life raft.

Justin handed Craigson the plastic bag. ‘Mom will need this.’

Craigson nodded and took the bag.

‘Come on,’ said Myers. ‘Help me cover her up.’

Justin nodded. It didn’t feel right to leave her exposed like that. He helped Myers cover Elizabeth with the sheet.

As Justin turned, he nearly tripped.

He’d stood on the digital timer. He picked it up, surprised by the weight. It was the size and shape of a D-cell battery, but didn’t have any buttons. Its only feature was a small green LCD screen with a digital countdown. The screen read:

Remaining Time: 02h:32m:12s

‘What’s that?’ asked Myers.

‘Some kind of digital timer. It has two hours and thirty two minutes left to go.’