Of Royal Descent (20 page)

She smiled, relieved.  Addy grabbed one leg and Stephen grabbed the other and eventually the leather pants were in a heap on the floor.  I took long, deep gulps of air.  When my breathing regulated, they assisted me to the bed.

"Pretty
lucky your grandpa's the alpha, huh?" Stephen said.

"He was the big one?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, the biggest, the strongest, the fastest, the most violent... You name it."

An unpleasant thought wormed its way through my mind.

"Stephen, what number test subject is my grandfather?"

Without hesitation, Stephen answered, "Seven."

I sent another wave of sedative flowing through me.  My grandfather, William Clark, was the leader of the royals.  He was in charge of the entire pack.  He was the royal that raped his wife, Eva, the night he was injected with the virus.  And he was directly responsible for saving my life in the pit.

I pressed the pain button again.  Nothing happened.

"I believe Bradbury mentioned a possible increase in my dosage?  I'd like to exercise that option now," I said.

17

While Stephen adjusted the parameters of the analgesic pump, I decided to take advantage of his presence.  I was hoping he could give me answers to questions I had been hesitant to ask Bradbury.

"What happened to
Eva?"

"She died not that long after Dylan came to the facility," answered Stephen, without looking up.

"How?"

Now he poked his head up from behind the machine.  He eyed the camera quickly before meeting my gaze.

"She died from complications of a heart condition," Stephen replied.  I didn't need my spidey sense to tell me that he was holding something back because of our audience.  He returned his focus to the pump.

"What about my mom?  Can you tell me how she died?" I asked.  Addy sat next to me on the bed
, and she took my hand in hers.

"Well, I think that about does it," Stephen said, dusting his hands of nonexistent dirt.  "You're ready to go with your new dose."  He turned his back to the camera and gave me an apologetic look.

I nodded.  "Thanks."

He made his way to the door and slipped into the hallway.  Again
came the click of the lock. 

I dosed myself
, and Addy checked the new settings on the pump.  Her eyes widened, but she didn't voice her thoughts.  She returned to the bed and stretched out beside me.

"So your grandfather is the alpha?  I take it that means he's responsible for your still being with us?" asked Addy,
absent-mindedly running her fingertips up my jawline against my five o’clock shadow.

"It would seem so."

With the increase of morphine combined with Addy's gentle touch, I began to relax.  "Mmm, that feels really good."

She leaned up to kiss me just below my ear before nestling her head against my shoulder.

"I love you," I said. 

She picked her head up to meet my gaze.  I continued before giving her the opportunity to respond. 

"I wanted to tell you at a better time, but I was thinking a better time may never come.  And I wanted you to know before I died, whether it's two weeks from now or sooner due to Bradbury's
research
.  When I was in the pit, and I thought I was going to die, I couldn't stand the thought of never having told you how I felt."

She kissed me softly on the lips.  "I love you too, Doyle."  She kissed me again, deeper this time.  When she withdrew, she rested her head back on my shoulder and resumed her light touch
, this time across my chest.

"
Is it possible you love me only because of the pheromones?" she asked softly.

My immediate response was anger but it was snubbed out quickly.  I understood her reasoning. 

"No, it can't be.  Maybe it was pheromones when I first met you and when I spent the night at your apartment, but it can't be pheromones now.  I have no special powers in the first shade.  Well, not unless you count my lethargic sixth sense.  So I'm telling you that I love you of my own free will and mind without any chemical alteration whatsoever."

She smiled.  "Well, I wouldn't say
any
chemical alteration.  That poor narcotic pump is working overtime."

I rolled on top of her quickly, trapping her beneath me.  I smiled do
wn at her, not letting her see the pain caused from the movement.

"Listen here Adel
ine Murray.  I love you for you - not because of the pheromones, not because of the morphine, and not because as a nurse, you know how to properly restrain a patient to the bed."  Addy squirmed beneath me, giggling.

"Although, that last one is definitely a perk," I said, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers.

There was a knock at the door. 
Since when do they knock? 
I rolled off Addy and waited to see who entered.  The lock tumbled, and Bradbury stuck his face into the room.

"Hate to interrupt, but I thought you might like to accompany me on a tour of the MZ holding cells."

"Are you asking?" I responded, suspicion furrowing my brows.

"Oh yes.  The tour is optional as we will expect nothing from you.  I just thought you might like to know more about the details of your disorder. 
You’ll be confined to the bed soon and won't have the opportunity to see this particular area of the facility again."

I considered his offer.  I hated the man, but I was curious to see the flip side of the diseased coin.

"Okay, I'll go," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and attempting to rise.  Addy steadied me and then temporarily disconnected my IV just long enough so I could shrug out of the camouflage jacket I still wore.

"He needs his pain medication to go with him," she said sternly.

"Of course," agreed Bradbury who had entered fully into the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of him.  Without being instructed, I sat down in the seat.  My energy was depleting quickly; I couldn't imagine surviving another twelve days.

Bradbury wheeled me out of the door with Addy pushing my IV pole behind him.  We turned in the opposite direction of the double doors leading into the pit.  The other end of the hallway had an identical set of doors that also opened automatically as we came near.

Once through, I could see this room was as large as the room with the pit, only square.  Two-thirds up the far wall, a panel of glass ran in a horizontal strip from one end to the other.  A group of lab coats were scattered throughout the area.  Some were sitting at computers, but the majority of them were peering through windows at different locations along the wall.

Bradbury pushed me to a vacant slot at the glass.  "Are you able to stand?" he asked.

I braced myself on the arms of the wheelchair as he held it steady for me.  Addy slipped her arm underneath mine for support.  Once righted, I peered through the window.

I was staring into an individual chamber and realized the entire length of glass must overlook separate rooms.  There was nothing of interest in the
space I had viewing access to, other than a disturbing amount of blood smeared along the walls.  I could see various scattered objects on the floor:  a doll, a hammer, a plastic bag, a pile of clothes, pieces of fruit in varying states of decomposition, a bed sheet, as well as other items I couldn't quite make out.  I stared and waited.  I was about to give up and return to the comfort of my seat when the pile of clothing moved.

"This fellow has now
gone ninety-four days without eating.  He's slow-moving but still alive," said Bradbury.

I watched as the pile turned in a half circle.  As soon as I could make out the face, I faltered
, and Addy steadied me.  I looked at her quickly and saw that she had her eyes averted downward.

"Don't look," I instructed her.  She nodded.

I returned my gaze to the monstrosity on the opposite side of the window.  The face, what was left of it, was completely gray and blood-streaked.  One eye bulged from its socket.  Flesh had been torn away to expose both rows of upper and bottom back teeth.  A long, bony arm extended from underneath its ragged shirt in order to pull itself across the floor.

"You're starving him to death?" I asked softly.

"Oh, don't feel for the creatures.  They're already dead.  The original test to see how long an MZ could go without food was performed in the eighties.  It ran for three months, and all test subjects still continued to exist.  This time the trials will run for six months."

I swallowed the mouthful of bile that had worked its way up my throat.  It was wrong.  All of it was wrong. 
Why didn't someone put the thing out of its misery?

"Shall we?" asked Bradbury gesturing to the next vacancy along the window. 

Using the wall as a railing, I worked my way to the next chamber.  I peered through the glass, not really wanting to know the horror that was contained inside, but unable to look elsewhere.

A figure was hunched over the remains of a
deer, face down in its belly.  As it pulled its head free, entrails dangled from where lips should have been.  I fell back into the chair as the nausea rolled in.

"Here's an interesting tidbit for you," said Bradbury thoughtfully as he continued to stare through the window.  "With one bite, a royal passes the weakened virus to humans and animals alike.  But an MZ can only pass the virus to another human."

There was a loud bang further down the wall followed by light laughter from the group of scientists huddled around the glass.  Bradbury turned to assess the situation.

"An MZ has caught sight of us," he said, unaffected.

"What does that mean?" I asked as another bang sounded.

Bradbury wheeled me toward the commotion.  "Once an MZ has spotted a potential food source, it will not stop until it
eats it, happens upon another food source, is killed, or is commanded to do so by a royal."

We reached the group of scientists
, and they parted to make way for my wheelchair.  I groped the wall until I was at eye level with the viewing panel.  A rotting face came from out of nowhere and head-butted the glass.  I fell back into Addy, who was standing ready to support me.  Her eyes remained focused on the floor.  The MZ clawed at the transparent barrier, and I pushed my pain button.

"How do you kill an MZ if they're already dead?" I asked Bradbury.

He smiled.  "Surely you've watched your share of Hollywood zombie films."

"A shovel to the head?"

Bradbury laughed deeply, and I thought it was dangerously close to sounding like
ho ho ho
.  "Any head trauma, if severe enough, will kill the viral control center.  Killing one MZ isn't very difficult.  They move slowly and can be taken down with long range weapons.  The problem is when they aggregate and you have fifty of them determined to feed on you."

There was another thump against the glass.

"You said the royals were able to control the MZs.  How?"

"With a combination of pheromones and vocal calls."

One of the scientists walked up to the window and tapped softly.  This sent the MZ into a frenzy, and it began to scratch wildly and gnaw at the glass.  Addy had never looked up, but I could sense she was disturbed by the audible activity.

"I'm tired
; I'd like to go back to my room now," I said.

"Certainly," voiced Bradbury, who gestured toward the wheelchair.

I eased myself down, self-medicated, and let him wheel me back to my room.  Once he had left us alone, Addy exhaled loudly.

She waved to the camera
, and Stephen appeared.  "We need lunch," she said.

"What would you like?"  They both turned to look at me.

"I'm craving meat," I said, closing my eyes.

"Doyle, I can't tell whether or not you're kidding," Addy said.

I blew out a sigh and looked at her.  "I wish I were, but I'm not.  I want steak, and I want it rare."

Addy turned to Stephen.  "Well, you heard him. 
Two steaks, one rare and one well done.  Bring several sides, and I'll see what I can get him to eat."

Stephen nodded and exited the room.

There was a small FM radio sitting on the counter next to the sink, and Addy turned it on.  After scanning a few stations, she rested on "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie.  She gave me a half-smile.

I motioned for her to come to bed
, and she crossed the room to cuddle up beside me.  I pulled the trigger for morphine.  We each remained quiet while the radio played on.  When her breathing leveled out, I knew she was asleep.  I lied there and held her and tried to come up with a plan to keep her safe. 

At that moment, I knew there was nothing I could do if Bradbury suddenly decided she was more of a burden than
an asset.  So I was going to play nice for as long as he wielded the authority.  All I needed was a game plan for when I entered the third shade.

However, that in
itself was a problem.  William had run home and raped his wife the night he received the virus.  What made me think I was going to be able to control myself any more than he had?  There had to be a reason to hope.  I thought back to what Bradbury had told me about the night William escaped.  I recalled every detail.  I listened carefully for signals from my extra sensory perception, and something took shape in my mind.

Bradbury had said William was unrecognizable to Eva when she had opened the door to him.  That implied he was already in the third shade.  So, maybe the original seven test subjects never experienced the first and second shad
es.  Or maybe they were severely accelerated.  Could that have any effect on self-control?

In the pit, my father
had protected me.  Although I couldn't say for sure, it seemed as if he implored William to save me.  If Dylan could control himself long enough to protect his offspring, maybe I could control myself long enough to protect Addy.  My flame of hope grew.