Killer Thrillers Box Set: 3 Techno-Thriller, Action/Adventure Science Fiction Thrillers (97 page)

The man’s smile faded a little. “Okay, sure. Visiting hours are actually over, but —”

“That’s okay, thanks anyway.” Ben was starting to sweat. He turned quickly and walked back toward the front door.
You fool.

As he neared the exit, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder. The receptionist was on the phone, hunched over his workstation. A few other nurses and doctors walked across the expansive lobby, but none seemed to notice him. He saw a skinny door against the wall, wallpapered to look like the lobby’s striped two-tone wall, and he reached for the knob.

It twisted fully, and he pushed it open. He closed the door behind him and looked around. A small orange bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the room enough to give him what he needed: it was a small janitorial closet, filled with mop buckets, brooms, and cleaning chemicals. He found an upside down five-gallon bucket against the wall. Sitting down on it, he recapped his plan.
 

There wasn’t much to recap:
enter lobby, find a place to hide.
 

Wait.
 

Wait for what?

He had no idea. He knew
he needed to see Julie, to make sure she was okay, but he was in over his head. He was a large, lumbering park ranger, not a spry little covert operative.
 

He waited for a few minutes, trying to gauge the activity outside his little closet. He couldn’t hear much. Footsteps here and there, telling him nothing other than the general location of the person on the other side of the door.
 

Another five minutes passed, and he heard footsteps again making their way past his closet.
 

No, they’re not moving
past
.
 

They were moving
toward
him.

Ben waited, praying the footsteps would recede into the distance.
 

The footsteps stopped. Someone was directly outside the door now.
 

Please go away.
 

The handle turned, and he reached for something — anything — to use as a weapon. There was nothing but a bucket of mops sitting within arm’s reach. He grabbed one and untwisted the handle from its base.
 

A second later, the door slid open. Light pierced the dim room.
 

Ben raised the mop handle, wincing.
 

A man’s frame was silhouetted in the doorway, but he didn’t step into the room.
 

“You must be Harvey Bennett. Ben, I believe?”

35

“WHO ARE YOU?” BEN ASKED. “How do you know my name?”
 

The man took a step forward, and Ben raised the mop handle higher.

The man raised a hand. “Woah, there, son. I’m not going to hurt you.” He paused, taking another step into the closet. He looked at the mop handle. “Works better than you might think, too.”
 

Ben frowned but didn’t release his grip on the weapon.
 

The man was now fully in the room, and the light from the lobby was enough to give Ben some idea of who had entered.
 

A janitor.
 

Dressed in crisp blue overalls and a matching blue cap, the man was older than Ben, but about as tall and built similarly. Wisps of whitish hair fell from around the cap, and Ben could see he was smiling.
 

An ironed-on name badge stared back at Ben from the man’s chest pocket.
 

Roger.

“You— you’re a janitor?” Ben asked.
 

The man nodded. “We prefer ‘sanitation engineer,’ but yeah, janitor works too.”
 

“How do you know who I am?” he asked again.
 

“I saw you run in here after your
harrowing
encounter with Junior.”

Junior must be the kid from the front desk.

“That still doesn’t explain how you know who I am.”
 

“Right, sorry. There’s more to it than this, but Julie told me.”
 

The mention of Julie’s name sent a chill down Ben’s spine. “Is she okay?”
 

“She’s fine. In the quarantined ward, but they’ve got her on some sort of sedative that dulls pain and slows her blood flow. It’s not enough to, uh, stop the virus, but it’ll help.”
 

Ben was growing more and more confused by the second. Standing in front of him was a man — a
janitor
— who knew who he was, who Julie was, and apparently what sort of outbreak was going on in the hospital’s quarantine.
 

“She told me you’d be coming here and tried to explain a little bit about what you looked like. I was in there about an hour ago, when they brought her in. There’s a hazmat chamber set up just outside the entrance, but only staff and facilities, like me, can go in.”
 

Ben shook his head. “Listen, that’s great. I need to get to her. Can you help me?”
 

“Slow down, slow down,” the man said. “We’ll get in there. Mind dropping that mop handle, though?”
 

Ben didn’t realize he was still poised for an attack. He relaxed a bit and dropped the wooden stick.

“So you were just cleaning in there, and happened to start talking to her?”
 

The man’s smile disappeared, and Ben could see him grow serious. “Oh, no. You don’t understand. I’ve been working on this for quite some time. It is certainly a coincidence that fate brought her here, but it’s not fate at all that did the same for me.”
 

Ben had no idea what he was talking about. “Working on
what
?”
 

“The virus. Trying to figure out what it is. I’ve been studying it — as much as I can, anyway, for months. This hospital
has
to be involved, somehow, but I’m not sure exactly how. I was starting to lose hope, but then a few days ago they transformed the first floor of the east wing into the quarantine, and I heard whispers that they were helping with the Yellowstone Virus.”
 

Ben thought about that for a moment.
The Yellowstone Virus.
He hadn’t tuned in to what the media was touting, but he was sure the moniker could be attributed to some marketing-minded news agent.
 

“Okay, so you guessed correctly. But there are other hospitals in the area that have similar quarantines set up, too, right? As the virus is spreading, there are only going to be more…”
 

The man shook a finger at him. “No, that’s just it. It
had
to be this one. This hospital is part-owned by a company called Rainbaucher’s, which itself is mostly owned by another company, Dragonstone Corp. There are also two pharmaceutical companies, one in Norway, called Drage Medisinsk, and one here in Canada called Drache Global.” He watched Ben’s reaction, waiting. Not getting anything, he continued.
 

“Dragonstone is the organization behind these attacks.”
 

“Wait, are you serious? There’s a
company
behind this?”
 

The man nodded. “Remember, a company is made up of people, maybe one person. Someone — whoever is pulling the strings up there — is behind it. I am just following the breadcrumbs.”
 

Ben thought for a moment. “How’d you know where to start? How did you even find out this information?”
 

“The smaller companies, like this hospital, have to file public financial statements. They’re obviously convoluted and circuitous enough to be nothing short of useless, but it at least gave me a glimpse into what other companies were behind them. I had enough prior knowledge about all of this to know where to start looking.”
 

“What do you mean?” Ben asked. “Wait, before you answer that, help me get to Julie. She’ll need to hear this.”
 

The man nodded, then held out his hand. “I’m glad I found you, son. You two can help stop this thing.”
 

Ben reached out to shake the man’s hand, then pulled it back.
The rash
.

The janitor, Roger, laughed and grabbed Ben’s hand anyway. “Don’t worry about that. Doesn’t matter anymore. Nice to meet you.”

Ben frowned, but shook his hand. “Good to meet you as well, uh… Roger.”
 

The man laughed. “Ha! I forgot I had this on.” He released Ben’s hand and flicked at the small patch on his overalls. “I had to sort of go ‘undercover’ a bit when I started here. You can call me Malcolm.”
 

“Malcolm?”
 

“Dr. Malcolm Fischer.”
 

36

MALCOLM PROVED TO BE AN important asset. There was a crawlspace-like attic above the corridor Julie was being kept, supported by a metal catwalk. Used for electrical conduit, plumbing for the upper floors, and the modernized HVAC system, it was primarily intended to house cables and pipes, not people. When Malcolm showed Ben the small space he wanted them to squeeze into, Ben thought he was joking.
 

“You can’t be serious.”
 

“If I can do it, you can,” was Malcolm’s reply.

Ben wasn’t claustrophobic, but this was cutting it close. The space measured about a foot tall by three feet wide. Enough for a dog or small animal to pass through easily, but a large male human? It would be tight.
 

“I’ll go first, you follow behind. There will be an air vent directly above her room, but we’ll need to reopen it. The CDC crew that was in here sealed up all the airflow points and redirected them so they could keep everything contained.”
 

“Right.” Ben was still eyeing the small crawlspace. “Lead the way.”
 

Malcolm squeezed himself up and into the space, surprising Ben with the older man’s strength and speed. He followed behind, catching a face full of shoe rubber when he entered the shaft.

“Might want to wait until I get a little bit ahead.”
 

“Yeah, I got that,” Ben said.
 

They slid slowly through the shaft, crawling over lines of electrical and networking cables, PVC pipes, and other forgotten infrastructure. It was hot inside the tunnel, and they quickly worked up a sweat. “How much longer?” Ben asked.
 

“About ten minutes. It’s slow going, but we can pop in and out of her room without anyone knowing. Worth it.”
 

Ben agreed, but he still wished it was a little more comfortable in the shaft.
 

Finally Malcolm stopped. “I’m over the grate. I’m going to start unscrewing the paneling, but I need you to hold it up. We can’t let it fall on her.”
 

Ben followed his instruction and slid up next to Malcolm’s legs. The man’s upper body was contorted and twisted back around, allowing him the freedom to work a small screwdriver while giving Ben room to squeeze up next to him.
 

“One more minute,” he said.
 

Ben felt the grate pop with the last screw and held it in place. It was heavier than he’d realized, but it didn’t fall. Together, the two men turned the grate on its side and pulled it up through the ceiling. When it had cleared the hole, Malcolm pushed it up above his prone body, farther into the shaft.
 

A cool wash of air hit Ben, and he breathed it in. It made his skin itch, especially the area around his neckline, chest, and arms, where the rash covered his skin. The feeling caused a sense of urgency in him as he once again remembered the gravity of their situation. He popped his head through the open hole in the ceiling and looked into the room.
 

Julie.

She was there, eyes closed, on a bed in the center of the room. A few IV lines ran into her arms, and Ben could see the purplish rash on her skin, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. No one else was in the room.
 

He sighed in relief and looked back up at Malcolm. “You go first, since you can get down on your feet. Give me a hand when you’re down there.”
 

Malcolm nodded and swung his feet down and through the hole. He dropped gracefully from the ceiling catwalk and into the room. “Ready,” he called up.
 

Ben dropped through the hole until he felt pressure on his feet. He lowered himself slowly, letting Malcolm help him down. When his feet hit the hospital room floor, Julie’s eyes fluttered open.

“Ben?”
 

“Julie! Hey, how are you feeling?” He rushed to her side.

“I — I’m good, I think,” she said. “A little groggy, but I’m okay. It’s mostly the drugs. The rash — is it gone?”
 

Ben looked at her. She had been changed into a light blue hospital gown and placed under a bed sheet, but her neck and arms were outside the blanket. The rash was now purple, deepening into the start of boils and blisters just under the surface of her skin.

“Uh, yeah. You look great,” he said, smiling.
 

“Shut up. You’re a jerk,” she said. Her voice was shaky, but she seemed to be more alert. “Get me out of here.”
 

“Julie, we can’t. I’m sorry — you’re not strong enough…”

“Knock it off. Look at you. If you can get in here, I can get back out.” She sat up a little and started pulling at the IV lines in her arms. “What are these, anyway?”
 

Malcolm stepped forward. “Most likely they’re delivering the drugs that are keeping you mildly sedated,” he said. “They probably aren’t doing much to you right now, other than keeping the pain at bay and slowing your blood a little.”
 

She frowned, trying to remember where she’d seen him.
 

“Dear me, they’ve definitely been keeping you quite sedated.” He reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. “My name is Dr. Malcolm Fischer, remember? We met when you were brought here.”
 

She nodded, slowly.
 

“I met your friend here a few moments ago in a janitor’s closet.”