AJ turned and looked at the picture of Will Foster still glowing on the screen; he smirked. He was certain that his experience over the past day was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to The Tank’s capabilities. Whoever Foster really was, one thing was certain… he didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Twelve
Julie Ponte smacked her lips together. She had just finished applying a fresh coat of lipstick, and was using the tiny lighted mirror of her car’s sun visor to make sure the job had been done properly. Adequate coverage with no smears. No red on her teeth. Good. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, trying to fluff in some body. The shampooed luster and bounce from the previous morning’s shower was gone. She sighed and let her arms fall into her lap. She felt foolish.
“Why am I nervous? There is absolutely no reason to be nervous,” she muttered.
It had been over five years since she had last seen Will.
He shouldn’t have trouble recognizing her, she thought. Her hair was shorter, but only by three or four inches. Nothing a guy would notice. Her eyeglasses were new; her staff had commented that they made her “look serious.” She didn’t know about that. Realizing she was still wearing them, she quickly took the thin brown frames off and threw them in her purse. With one final peek in the mirror, she was ready. Five minutes was already too much time to have wasted primping in a parked car. She was late, and it was time to rescue Will.
She had visited Prague a number of times since moving to Europe, and she knew her way around the city center. From where she had parked, even at a brisk pace, it would take her ten minutes to reach the Astronomical Clock in the center of the Old Town. The walk would give her a few more minutes to stew.
There was much to be worried about. The abrupt way Will had ended their online IM conversation had scared her. Maybe the police had arrested him. Then, there was the babble about being kidnapped and put in quarantine. She had trouble swallowing that one. Finally, there was the issue of his health. Although she wanted to believe his claims, she had prepared herself for the possibility that Will was suffering from paranoid delusions.
She checked her watch: 2:11 AM. One more block to go.
As she rounded the corner, the pointed Gothic spires of the Church of Our Lady before Týn rose into the skyline. Like twin sentinels standing watch over the Old Town, they towered over every other structure in view. In keeping with gothic architectural coda of their era, the spires were built asymmetrically — with the broader right spire and the thin left spire representing the masculine and feminine elements of society. Her gaze shifted from the spires to the courtyard in front of the Astronomical Clock.
She scanned the faces of the sparse crowd for Will. A handful of people were loitering around the clock, even at this late hour, but Will was nowhere in sight. Her heart sank. He had logged off the computer before she could give him her mobile number. She had no choice but to wait. She would stay all night and through the next day if necessary. She spotted some chairs left out in front of one of the nearby cafés and decided to sit and wait for Will there.
As she approached the chairs, she noticed a man sleeping in one of them. The pose was unmistakable — classic Will Foster. Legs extended, crossed at the ankle. Chin against his chest with one fist jammed uncomfortably under his left cheek. Many a college night she had found him asleep in the library, in this position, with a textbook sprawled across his lap.
She smiled.
Up close, she was taken aback. He looked terrible. The dark circles under his eyes reminded her of how football players look with their grease paint before a game. The three days of stubble on his face was not enough to camouflage his sunken cheeks and unnatural pallor of his skin. Most disturbing of all, however, was that she had never seen him so thin. Her heart melted; she wanted to stroke his chestnut brown hair and tell him the nightmare was over. She was here to rescue him; she would take care of him now. But she resisted.
She stood over him, bent slightly at the waist, and tried to wake him. “Will, wake up. It’s Julie.”
Nothing.
She tried squeezing his shoulder. “Will, wake up. It’s me.”
Without warning, his left hand shot out and clamped onto her throat. His eyelids popped open, revealing fully dilated pupils. His right hand balled into a fist, which he recoiled into the “cocked and ready” position beside his temple.
She yelped. His hand was a vice on her throat. The carotid artery in her neck throbbed, and it was becoming difficult to breathe.
Will did not remember falling asleep. One minute he was sitting waiting for Julie — admiring the twin spires of a church whose name he did not know — and the next minute they’d found him. Like thieves in the night, they had snuck up on him, and grabbed him on the shoulder. His heart was in his throat. One thing was certain, he would not go quietly.
“Will! Stop. It’s me,” she managed in a raspy whisper.
Like a lighthouse beacon guiding a ship into safe harbor, her voice drew him out of his fog. The scowling orderly in a white lab coat morphed into an angel.
He released her throat.
“Julie?”
She rubbed her neck with her fingers, and took a step backward, trembling. “Christ, Will. If you could’ve seen the look in your eyes… For a moment there, I thought you were going to kill me.”
Standing up, he opened his arms wide to her. “I’m so sorry, Julie. I thought you were…” At first, her mouth crinkled with doubt, but then the corners of her lips curled into a grin. She stepped in and they hugged each other for a long moment, and for the first time in months Will felt the touch of human warmth against his cheek.
Like an alarm siren in his mind, an image of Rutgers and Frankie, writhing in misery, popped into his conscious. Abruptly, he pulled away from her.
“Julie, we need to keep a buffer between us. I don’t know if I’m contagious. If you became infected like the others I’ve been in contact with, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“For you, it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, if you were infected with something that virulent, then you’d probably already be…”
“Dead?”
She grabbed him firmly on both his arms. “It’s obvious you’re not well. I mean Jesus, Will, I’ve never seen you so thin. But, don’t worry about me. Would it make you feel any better to know I have Ciprofloxacin, Streptomycin, and Doxycycline in my purse?”
“What are those?”
“They’re three of the most powerful antibiotics on the market. So if you have a dangerous infection — an infection worthy of being quarantined, like tuberculosis — then you’ll start popping pills, and I’ll start popping pills, and we’ll find a way to get through this. On the other hand, if you have a virus, then even the best antibiotics won’t help you. Either way, we need to get you checked into the research hospital in Vienna.”
“No hospitals. Absolutely not.”
Julie considered arguing the point, but they didn’t have time.
“Okay. No hospitals.” She grabbed his hand, and with a tug, she began leading him back to the car. “Let’s go.”
Her confidence bolstered his spirit.
“God, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.
She smiled. It had been a long time since anybody had told her that.
“Thanks. You too.”
“Nice,” Will exclaimed as she unlocked the driver’s side door of her 2005 navy blue Opel Astra.
“What? This is Europe, Will. Not everyone drives an SUV here. Europeans are very practical, you know. Besides, this car has more personality than some of the technicians in my lab.”