It must be more than ten years, she thought. She couldn’t actually remember the last time they’d spoken on the phone. Still, it was amazing to hear from him. These weren’t exactly the best of circumstances, but she knew that if he was contacting her, it must be something important.
Just then, she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Was Charlie coming back?
No, she thought, Charlie was wearing sneakers all day. These footsteps were clearly made by either a heeled woman’s shoe or a man’s dress shoe. Her ears perked up as she listened to the sound, now growing louder.
It lacked the purposeful quickness of a woman in high heels, and it seemed heavier. Who was visiting her?
She knew for a fact that no one else on her floor was currently in. After three or four trips to and from the lab on the fourth level, she could tell in a quick glance up and down the hallway that there were no other lights on besides her own.
The footsteps continued toward her open door. She stood up from the computer, forgetting about the email for a moment and turning toward the door.
Just as she turned, a man entered the space inside the door frame.
“Dr. Torres?” The man asked. His voice was raspy; not quite that of a lifelong smoker, but one that seemed tired or weary with age.
She nodded.
The man stepped in and took a long, slow glance around.
“Can I help you?” Dr. Torres asked.
The man’s eyebrows abruptly lifted, as if he had forgotten that he shared the room with another occupant. “Ah, yes. Dr. Torres, it’s great to meet you.” He extended his right hand forward. She reluctantly reached for it and allowed him to grasp it. His hand completely consumed hers, though he did not squeeze tightly. “I’m here from the CDC, which, as you know, is currently operating in a crisis mode.”
“Well, I–I didn’t exactly know that,” Dr. Torres said, still caught off guard. “Do you mean the explosion at Yellowstone?” Charlie had filled her in about the day’s events when he’d arrived hours ago, but she still hadn’t checked for an update.
The man smiled. He retracted his hand and placed it in his pants pocket.
“Yes, in fact, that is exactly why I’m here.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The man continued to explain, both hands now in his pockets. “We’re following this thing as well; trying to stay ahead of it.”
“Well, do you know what it is?” Dr. Torres asked. She sat back down in her desk chair and swiveled to face him.
“We’re guessing it’s some sort of bacteriophage; T4, Coliphage, something like that.” He motioned to a chair. She nodded once, and the man pulled it out and sat. “But the lab results haven’t come in yet. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to know if you’d figured anything out yet.”
Dr. Torres frowned. “How did you know I was working on it?”
The man smiled. “The package that was delivered. A colleague of yours received it and sent it to you, but was prudent enough to document your research and testing phases as well.”
Charlie, she thought. She frowned in anger, then remembered that her assistant had only been doing his job. All of the lab techs and assistants at the company had been instructed to keep a record of any and all testing done on-site on any materials that could be considered “potential threats.” While she’d wanted to keep their work quiet until she could prepare a final report, she hadn’t considered asking Charlie to bypass this security step.
“It’s okay, Dr. Torres. This type of thing happens all the time. You don’t want to make any mistakes in the research phases and potentially damage your career. Even if you had kept this one hidden from us, I’m not here to reprimand you.”
“Okay,” Dr. Torres said. “May I ask why you are here?”
“Information,” the man said without hesitation. “Like I said, we need to keep ahead of this one, especially it’s some sort of bacter—”
“It’s not.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s not a bacteriophage,” Dr. Torres said. “Actually, it’s exactly the opposite.”
“What do you mean? The symptoms we’re seeing in patients suggests that it is some sort of bacterial-viral combination.”
“Well, you’re right about that,” Dr. Torres said, turning around in her chair and opening a file on her computer. “It’s bacterial and viral, but not in the sense of a bacteriophage. Rather than a virus attacking and piercing a bacteria, we’ve recognized the exact opposite. A bacterial infection within a larger virus.”
The man stood up and began pacing the office. Dr. Torres chose to continue.
“It’s a standard form of a spirillum bacteria, only crammed inside the shell of another body. I’ve never seen anything like it before, really. It’s quite ama—”
The man spun on his heel. “And who else has been working on this project with you?” he asked.
“J — just my assistant, Charlie Furmann.”
“I see. And do you have the sample here with you?”
Dr. Torres fidgeted in her chair, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Her eyes flicked to the test tube on the table, then quickly back to the man. “I’m sorry — can I ask again why you’re here?”
The man had already begun moving to the table. He reached down and grabbed the small glass vial just as Dr. Torres stood up from the chair.
“Hey! Excus—” The man held the tube away from Dr. Torres with his right hand and lifted his left arm. He swatted the back of his hand at Dr. Torres’ face, catching her just below her left eye.
Dr. Torres stumbled backwards, stunned. Tears began forming in her eyes as she gasped. The man continued moving, now reaching into his pants pockets and removing a pair of latex gloves. In one fluid motion, the man inserted his hands into the gloves and walked to the small lab sink.
“What are you doing?” Dr. Torres asked as she regained her balance. “Wait!”
The man threw the vial containing the sample down into the sink. It shattered with a loud crash, launching glass into the air. The man was already moving toward the open door. He reached for the handle and stepped out into the hallway.
Dr. Torres saw the man’s hand reach into his coat pocket and remove another vial, this one containing a clear liquid. He held the tube up in front of her.
“Dr. Torres. I am sorry it came to this. However, rest assured your research and time will not go to waste.” He threw the sample down. The hard floor obliterated the glass vial, and the clear liquid bounced upward and onto Dr. Torres’ feet. Before she could react, the man slammed the door, and Dr. Torres heard the clicking sound of his shoes retreating down the empty hall.
She ran to the door and tried to open it, fumbling and slipping over the now-wet floor. Finally the handle gave, and she nearly fell into the hallway. She was breathing heavily, but continued down the hallway, following the sound of the man’s shoes. Just as she reached the elevator, it dinged.
The doors slid open, and a shocked Charlie Furmann stared at his disheveled boss. “Dr. Torres — are you okay?”
Her eyes were wide and wild, and she knew she must have looked insane, but she held herself together. She backed away from the elevator, putting space between herself and Charlie.
“I–I…” she stammered. “Yes, I’m… I’m fine. Go home, and I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said. She turned away from Charlie and the open doors of the elevator and jogged to the stairs at the end of the hallway.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After leaving the warehouse that housed Julie’s office, the pair drove to the other side of town. Just as they passed the city limits and left the metropolitan area, the high-rise apartments and multi-floor office buildings slowly changed into larger, flatter buildings and individual houses on suburban streets.