Of Royal Descent (22 page)

Great, like I needed one more thing to worry about.
  I took the next bite of steak.  We fell silent as I chewed.  As sobering as the thought of William challenging me was, I told myself I would first have to get through the second shade.  I needed to know more about what was to come.

"So in the second shade, I'll have no pain, more strength, and I'll begin to rot.  Does that mean I'll
look like an MZ?"

"Not exactly.
  When you wake up and begin the second shade, you'll have a faint blue tint to your skin.  It will darken over time, as the non-oxygenated blood begins to thicken.  The longer you're in the second shade, the more your body will rot.  You'll fully develop the symptom of eye shift and your voice will begin to change.  New teeth will start to bud; they're required to strip flesh from the bone when you hunt in the third shade."

The second shade didn't sound like a barrel full of monkeys, but it didn't sound much worse than being bedbound and spoon
-fed while I writhed in pain.

"Oh, and there is one more big change," said Stephen cautiously.

"Of course there is," I said, agitated.  "It couldn't be that easy."

"I don't know if I'm doing you any favors by telling you this one, Doyle.  Ignorance is bliss, right?"  Stephen seemed genuinely torn.

"I'm all out of bliss, so you might as well tell me."

Stephen laid the fork down on the plate and took a deep breath.  "Your cravings for food and sex will start
, and you'll be volatile.  Addy won't be safe around you."

I glanced down at Addy and felt pain in my chest.  She whimpered in her sleep
, and I looked at Stephen.

"Then she must not be allowed near me," I said.

18

B
y the eleventh day, I could no longer force myself to eat.  Chewing required too much effort, and non-protein food made me vomit.  Addy tried having the meat ground to a soft texture, but it somehow altered the smell and made me queasy. 

My mobility had
also drastically decreased over the last couple days.  Even with Addy's support, I couldn't make it as far as the bathroom.  I used a urinal to relieve myself and she dutifully emptied it, but I drew the line at having her help me with a bedpan.  When nature called, I would wave to the camera and Stephen would appear.  With Addy waiting in the hall, he would assist me.  The experience was severely humbling, and I took comfort in the thought it wouldn't be much longer before I could once again take care of my own bodily functions. 

I now slept more than I was awake and sometimes I couldn't distinguish between the two worlds.  With The Shadow Effect no longer being an issue, my dreams were usually benign, sometimes even pleasant.  I realize Addy played a hand in keeping me in suc
h a neutral state, as she was vigilant in pushing my pain button at the slightest hint of my discomfort.

It was while I was in this manner, being not unconscious and yet not quite coherent either, that I heard someone enter our room.  In a low voice, I heard Bradbury address Addy.

"Is he asleep?"

"I believe so, but it's hard to say.  He's been sliding in and out for the last hour," she replied.

I heard the familiar faint click of the pain pump as it compressed and knew Addy had sent me another round.  If I'd had any desire to rouse and join the conversation, it had just been shot down.  So I lied there quietly, languidly listening to their hushed conversation.

"Good.  I actually wanted a moment to speak with you alone
, Addy."

When no response
was forthcoming, he continued. 

"Within a few days, Doyle is going to die.  When he awake
ns and enters the second shade, he will no longer be safe for you to be around."

Something told me Bradbury did not come here to warn Addy to stay away from me.  I figuratively smacked at my sixth sense,
who rolled over and pulled the covers back over his head.

"Doyle will always be Doyle to me.  I promised him I wouldn't leave and I meant it," responded Addy.

"I was hoping you would say that," said Bradbury.  "It's very sad to watch royals mourn the loss of those they love.  It changes them.  However, that being said, we will have to make certain adjustments to guarantee your safety when you are within harm’s way."

"Like what?" asked
Addy.  I could hear the skepticism in her voice.

Yeah, like what?
  Nothing that had occurred since my arrival had led me to believe Bradbury was driven by noble intentions.

"Well, for example, we have specialized biohazard suits personnel wear when coming within close contact of second
-shaders.  The suits aren’t able to be punctured, not even by their newly budding, serrated teeth.  Which is helpful not only to keep staff from being eaten, but also because it is during the second shade when royals become capable of transmitting the MZ virus.  And then, of course, there's the fact that Doyle will not be able to control his lust.  The suit offers protection against forced sexual encounters.  However, the suit alone will not be able to protect you if his rage flares up and you are within his reach.  We've lost more than one employee to an irate second-shader."

"Okay, so I'll just wear the suit and be careful not to anger him."

Bradbury chuckled.  "It won’t matter how careful you are.  His emotions will swing back and forth without cause, and I suspect he will be greatly frustrated at having you so near and not being able to touch you, not only because you are female, but because a pheromone bond has been established between the two of you.  If there's been a bond, royals will only mate with the bonded partner until the partner dies.  And the partner always eventually dies.  If it's not at the hands of the royal, then it's from natural causes.  Whether it’s now or later, there inevitably will come a time when you will be forced to leave Doyle's side."

The thought hung suspended in the air.  In this, Bradbury was right.  Addy and I had not been willing to face it, but we would be separated at some point.  My heartache translated into a soft moan
, and Addy quickly delivered another dose of morphine, spiraling me further into my strange twilight sleep.

"Unless, of course, you were willing to consider unorthodox measures," Bradbury said.

My breathing hitched as I waited for the other shoe to drop.  What else could he possibly want from me?  What demented test was he conjuring up now?  Whatever it was, I lacked the strength to fight him.

"I have yet to see anything that isn't unorthodox here."  Her response had been short, but I could hear the faint hope in her voice.

"What if I told you there was a way for you and Doyle to be together forever?  And you would never be in danger from him?  Would you be interested?"  I didn't know what solution to our problem he was suggesting, but it felt like we had entered the part of the fairy tale where Rumpelstiltskin offers to weave the straw into gold.  Bradbury was spinning glittering threads of hope into a blanket of desperation.

"Why do I feel like I'm being hustled?" asked Addy.

"What I'm offering is possible.  Imagine never having to fear you'll one day be bitten and turn into an MZ simply because you wanted to touch the man you loved.  Imagine being able to provide for Doyle exactly what he requires in order for him to have any happiness in this world."

There was a beat of silence before Addy answered.  "Okay, you have my attention Edgar.  What are you proposing?"

"You want to stay with Doyle, and I want to try something new.  We've never had a royal couple before.  We're prepared to offer you a life with Doyle in return for your submission to undergo the DNA and pheromone manipulation surgery and viral injection.  You would be a royal."

I tried desperately to speak, to rise from the bed.  Mistaking my floundering for pain, Addy delivered another dose and my body sank into the mattress.  The silence seemed to drag on forever. 
Why wasn't she screaming at him to get out?
  There was no way I would allow this and surely she knew that.  It occurred to me that Bradbury had most likely been lying in wait for the last eleven days, in order to make this offer when he knew I had no way to stop him.

"Would we be kept in separate cages?" Addy asked in a soft voice.  My heart plummeted.  She was considering it.

"No.  We would keep you together at all times.  You have my word."

I sent silent pleas in Addy's direction, willing her not to accept. 
             

"Can I have some time to think it over?" she asked.  I heard Bradbury fidget in his chair.  No doubt, he wanted
to seal the deal before I came out of my current state of debilitation.  I took a small amount of solace in knowing Bradbury was squirming.

"Yes, of course.  But might I suggest we not let Doyle in on the terms of our agreement?  He has a glass half-empty mentality.  In a misguided attempt to protect to you, he may try to sway your decision.  And I know upsetting him is the last thing you would want to do in his remaining hours.  The more relaxed we can keep Doyle, the more peaceful his passing will be."

Oh, would he be in for a surprise when I came out of sedation.  I didn't care what kind of physical pain I brought upon myself.  I didn't care if I had to scream myself hoarse.  I would never be relaxed again until Addy swore to me she would not submit to the will of this corrupt Kris Kringle.

I heard Bradbury rise from his chair and exit the room.  I considered trying to speak to Addy, but I knew unless it came out clearly, she would just medicate me again.  So I remained quiet and still while I waited for the anesthetic to wear off.  The problem with that, however, was that my body was not in sync with my mind.  My body was insistent it needed sleep
, and my mind had no other choice than to comply.  It turned out that Bradbury really did have quite the surprise when I came out of sedation.  And so did I.

A jolt of pain jarred me awake.  It felt as if someone were jumping on the bed next to me. 
It didn't make any sense.

"Addy?" I squeaked out.

"No, it's Stephen.  Try to relax.  I'll give you morphine as soon as we get where we're going."

The jostling I felt was now identified as Stephen carrying me in his arms while he hurried down a dark hallway.  With every step he took, pain flared in all directions.

"Where are we going?" I asked.  It didn't take a genius to know something was occurring inside the facility.  The only light source came from the headlamp Stephen wore, and I'd never heard the clinic so quiet.  No mechanical beeping, no computers whirring, no hushed conversation between staff.  Only Stephen's footfalls on the linoleum.

"I'm taking you to safety.  There was a malfunction in the security system when the power went off
, and it tripped the locks on the MZ holding cells.  Don't worry, Addy's safe.  I'll explain the rest soon, but right now, I need you to be very quiet," whispered Stephen.

I was almost certain this was Stephen's way of telling me MZs were on the loose, but I didn't ask for clarification.  When an authority on the subject tells you to shut up because zombies are running rampant, you shut up.  The dark hallway went from slightly creepy to downright sinister as Stephen's headlamp threw elongated shadows along the walls.  When we reached the other end, he paused at the door. 

"Shh," he mouthed down to me, though unnecessarily.  I was already holding my breath.  As quietly as he could, he sat me against the wall, facing in the direction we had just come.  I saw him slide a handgun out from the small of his back right before he killed the light on his headlamp.  We were now in pitch black. 

The hinge of the door creaked as Stephen nudged it slightly open.  I was prepared for my bowels to move involuntarily at any second.  A pinpoint of red light appeared from above
, and it took me a moment to realize it came from Stephen's gun.  He peered through the crack in the door for what seemed like forever, before opening it wide.  He shone the red dot as far down the hallway as it could go before it was extinguished by the darkness. 

Deeming the next leg of the journey safe, Stephen returned his gun to its original hiding place
and hoisted me up over his shoulders into a fireman's carry.  As we stepped through the door frame, I thought I heard the softest of moans.  Stephen must have heard it too, for he froze to the spot.  We stood, listening for possible sounds from the undead.

When I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark.  My parents would leave the closet light on for me with the door partly open.  I also had a Dexter's Laboratory night light, which I suppose in hindsight, turned out to be quite ironic.  And sometimes, I even kept a flashlight underneath my pillow, just in case.  My reasoning was that I wanted to be able to see my attacker, whether homicidal maniac or three-horned monster, if ever either crawled in through my window one night.  It was the not knowing what lurked and slithered past me that caused the near hysterical madness.

And just like when I was a child, I found myself on the brink of freaking the crap out due to the prolonged exposure of the darkness.  I may not have had my flashlight, but I had something close.  I clumsily raised my hand in an effort to locate Stephen's headlamp.  Quickly, his hand shot up and grabbed me by the wrist.  We waited another agonizing minute and heard no other sounds.

He slowly released my wrist and moved his hand to fiddle with the lamp.  Never had a pale beam cast such
a brightness below the earth.  But in the same moment I rejoiced for the light, I was also struck by terror for what it illuminated.

Stephen peered ahead whereas I was inclined to look behind us.  An MZ stood standing twelve feet away from me, staring with dead eyes at the wall of the corridor.  His flesh seemed to hang in mounds from his face, as if it were in the process of sliding off altogether.  I noticed his ear was missing just before he turned to look at me. 

"Run," I said softly, just before the MZ realized it was staring at potential dinner.  Its bottom jaw seemed to unhinge as Stephen broke into a sprint. 

It occurred
to me to grab the gun from the back of Stephen's jeans, but I honestly didn’t know if I could have held it steady in the state I was in.  I would have been more likely to drop it than I would have been to shoot it, let alone, shoot the MZ in the head.

We reached the end of the hallway
, and Stephen opened the elevator door.  Once inside, he sat me down with a thump against the wall.  I gritted my teeth and swallowed a scream of pain.  I could see the MZ shuffling toward us, gnashing his teeth.  It raised an arm out in our direction as it neared.

In one quick movement, Stephen righted himself, drew his gun, and aimed for the corpse that was now within six feet of us.  Stephen fired and its head exploded, spraying rotten organic matter all over the walls.  The headless body tumbled over as the doors to the elevator slid shut.