The Ninth Day Read online

  She spun and ran back down to the main hall. Here she moved a bit more slowly, checking the doors. The first few were marked sterile and when she tried the door handles they didn’t move. Each had a passkey box on the panel. The third sign merely said LAB. This door swung open. Emma fumbled around on the wall to the right of the entranceway. Her fingers found a light switch and she threw it on.

  Fluorescent lights hummed to life, revealing a narrow room with counters running the length of it. Various types of equipment sat on the counters, ranging from test tubes to micro-centrifuges.

  “My God. A real lab,” Emma said. She breathed in the air, with its light scent of alcohol and a mint smell that she couldn’t place. “Oz, let’s get those sores scraped and analyzed under a microscope.” She waved him over to a wheeled stool and rummaged around in the cabinets for a scalpel and a slide. She found both and got to work.

  Mono flopped into a chair at a desk in the front of the room to the right of the door. A computer sat on the desk in front of him. He tapped on the keyboard and the monitor sprang to life. He didn’t try to use it, but instead just looked around with a bored expression on his face.

  Oz’s sores had spread to cover the first three fingers of his left hand, and the pinky and fourth of his right. Emma scraped at them, careful to add the pieces to the slide.

  “What do you think you’ll see?” he said.

  Emma wasn’t sure. “I’m hoping that this will work as a crude form of a biopsy. Perhaps revealing unusual cells or signs of bacteria. Maybe a type of virulent staph infection or some sort of parasite. Scabies are small bugs that burrow in the skin, as a type of body lice.”

  Oz grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”

  “But more common than you’d think, and treatable for the most part,” Emma said. “Do they hurt when I scrape them?”

  Oz shook his head. “Not at all.”

  Emma paused. “What do you mean, ‘not at all’? ”

  “Just that. They’re numb. My entire left hand is numb. I don’t feel anything.”

  The door to the lab swung inward. A man in navy twill pants and blue-and-white-striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up stepped into the room. Nearing forty, he had brown hair cut short to his head and a slightly craggy face. He looked at Oz sitting on the stool and Emma standing at the microscope. The open door blocked his view of Mono.

  “What’s going on here?” the man said. He had dark eyes and a low, authoritative voice, as if used to giving orders. The door swung closed, revealing Mono, who stepped up to him. The man towered over Mono, who barely stood five foot seven. Mono reached up to dig the tip of his revolver into the man’s head, behind his right ear. “What the . . . ?” The man froze.

  “Don’t move,” Emma said. The man stayed still. Emma watched as his face registered first incredulity, then fear.

  “Are you John Raynor?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Emma Caldridge. You remember my name?” She very much wanted him to remember it so that he could tell the authorities about her later.

  “I do. The guard said that you were a chemist.”

  “I am. I need to use this lab to . . .”

  “Enough! Don’t tell him our business. He’ll call the police. We need to kill him,” Mono said.

  Oz rose from the stool so fast that it rolled backward and hit the cabinets. “No, Mono. Don’t. We can’t afford to have the police crawling up our ass.”

  Mono nodded. “That’s why I’ll kill him. He won’t talk.” Oz took a step toward Mono, who pressed the gun harder against Raynor’s head. Raynor bent away from the muzzle, but Mono kept the gun flush with the man’s skull. Emma watched Raynor swallow once, and then visibly steel himself. She wished he hadn’t gotten involved.

  “Come on,” Oz’s voice held a cajoling tone, “let’s just tie him up. Throw him in a broom closet. We’ll take off. By the time they find him we’ll be miles away. No one dies, and the police don’t look as hard for a couple of burglars as they do for a murderer. Especially when all they do is use some lab equipment and leave. You understand?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Emma said. She kept her tone light, as if they were discussing nothing serious. She didn’t want to trigger Mono and his wilder instincts. “Do you have the ties that Carlos uses?”

  Mono nodded.

  “Then you guys tie him up while I finish here. I don’t think we should linger.” She put some finality in her voice, as if the course of action was decided.

  Mono appeared to hesitate, thinking.

  “Get down on the ground,” Oz said to Raynor. “I’ll help you, Mono.” Oz tipped the balance, and Mono began fishing in his pockets for the ties.

  Raynor lowered himself to the floor and placed his palms on the tile. He shot Emma a glance before putting his chest and forehead down.

  “Here,” Emma said. She handed Oz some lab gloves from a box on the counter. “Wear these.” Oz put them on, grabbed one of Raynor’s hands and waved at Mono to grab the other.

  Mono didn’t move. He kept the gun pointed at the man’s back.

  Come on, Mono, just tie him up, Emma thought.

  “You do have the ties, right?” Oz prompted.

  Mono nodded again.

  “Good,” Emma said. “Tie him, but then sit him up. I need to ask him some questions.”

  Oz waved at Mono, who slowly lowered his gun. Emma busied herself at the lab station, all the while doing her best not to look at Mono. The action seemed to help decide him, because he pulled the ties out of his pocket and applied himself to shackling Raynor. When they were done, Emma indicated a chair near the station.

  “I need to do a Fite stain. Do you have the material for that?”

  Raynor clamped his mouth shut.

  “Mr. Raynor, I don’t have time to play games. Do you have the tools I need?”

  Raynor jerked his chin at a high cabinet next to Emma’s shoulder. “Up there.”

  Emma opened it and found what she needed.

  “I don’t like the sound of a Fite stain,” Oz said, sounding nervous.

  “I’ll need to cut some more of the sores, and this time I’d like to go a little deeper, but if what you say is true and they’re numb, I don’t think you’ll feel it.”

  Oz sat back on his stool and rolled over to her. “Okay, but do it quick.”

  Emma once again applied the knife to the sores. Oz didn’t flinch.

  “You didn’t feel that?” she said.

  “Not at all,” he replied.

  Emma frowned at him. “The sores are numbing your nerves.” She glanced at Raynor and found him staring at Oz’s hand with a clinical expression on his face.

  Emma went to a nearby microscope. It was state of the art, and she admired it for a moment.

  “This equipment is fantastic.” She powered it on and slid the small piece of glass underneath the lens.

  “What do you see?” Oz asked in an anxious voice. “Are there bugs?”

  The sore teemed with bacilli interspersed with black hunks of decaying skin. The bacteria triggered some memory in her, as if she’d seen it before, but she couldn’t pull the idea forward. She stared at it and tried to concentrate.

  “No flipping worm or parasitic beast, and no lice-type insect.”

  Oz breathed a sigh of relief.

  She lifted her head and looked at Raynor, who was leaning forward in his chair, an interested look on his face.

  “When did the sores start?” Emma asked Oz.

  “Eight hours ago,” he replied.

  Raynor raised his eyebrows. “That’s a lot of growth for eight hours.”

  Emma inhaled. The bacteria implied that Oz had some sort of mycobacterial infection.

  “Do you see anything?” Oz sounded anxious.

  She nodded. “Lots of bacteria.”

  “What could that be from?”

  “Tuberculosis. Meningitis.” She didn’t want to say the other possible infections out loud. “You have any gastrointestinal symp
toms? Like diarrhea?” Oz gave her a sharp look, as though he could tell that she was holding something back.

  “No.”

  “Did you dig in the dirt near the field?”

  Oz looked confused. “No. Why would I dig in the dirt?”

  “Did you dig in the dirt anywhere on the compound?”

  Oz shook his head. “No. Come on, tell me. What are you thinking?”

  Emma didn’t reply. She waved a hand at the computer on the desk. “Does that access the Internet?” she said to Raynor.

  “Don’t forget Carlos . . .” Mono said.

  “None of the lab computers have web access,” Raynor said. “They contain research data, searchable reference books, copies of the Physician’s Desk Reference, things like that.”

  A voice squawked from the cell phone in a holder attached to Raynor’s waistband. “Dr. Raynor? This is Janet Sullivan. Please check in.”

  Emma, Oz, and Mono stopped moving. Emma considered then rejected the idea of having Raynor answer. She didn’t trust him not to tip off the guard.

  “Mr. Raynor?” the guard said. Emma reached down and pulled the cell phone, holder and all, off his belt.

  “Time’s up, let’s go,” she said. She pointed at the corner of the room behind the door. “Put him there, and let’s get the hell out.” Mono and Oz waved Raynor to the corner. He slid his back down the wall until he was seated. Mono tied his ankles together. Emma tossed Oz a roll of gauze. “Gag,” she said. Oz wrapped the gauze around Raynor’s mouth.

  Through it all Raynor stared at her, as if he was memorizing her features. Emma couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She hated to let him believe the worst of her, but there was no way of telling him without putting the hostages in the back of Carlo’s ambulance at risk. She lowered her eyes while she tossed the slides and scalpels into a hazardous waste container bolted to the wall above a sink. She washed her hands and headed to the computer while she dried them. She tapped a key and the options screen opened. She clicked on the icon for a famous reference manual of diseases. In the search box she typed the words sores, tendon, contraction.

  “What are you doing? Let’s go,” Mono’s voice sounded harsh with tension.

  “I’m looking up the symptoms. One more minute.” Emma kept her eyes on the screen.

  “Dr. Raynor? Please respond.” Sullivan’s voice came through the cell phone. After twenty more seconds that felt like twenty minutes to Emma, the computer screen listed thirty results, with the ten highest ranked displayed first.

  “Move!” Mono said. Emma exited the search and went to stand next to Mono.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  Mono cocked his weapon and cautiously peered around the door into the hall. He waved them forward. Oz went next, and Emma last. When she pulled even with Raynor she glanced at him. He continued to watch her with a hard stare.

  I’m sorry, she thought. She flicked off the light and stepped through the door.

  They jogged down the main hall and turned into the branch, heading for the side door. Mono hit the bar and Emma heard the beeping noise as it opened. He was gone, with Oz right behind. Emma jogged forward.

  “Stop!” A woman’s voice gave the order.

  Emma sped up. She sprinted the ten feet and slammed the bar against the door. The panel opened so fast that she stumbled through. Emma heard the woman yell again, but she was out and the steel door was closing behind her.

  The Escalade idled twenty feet away. Emma put on a burst of speed, yanking open the door and crawling in the back. Oz drove, Mono was in the passenger’s seat with the window rolled down and his gun poised on the outside, ready to shoot. A glance at the door revealed Sullivan, her gun in one hand and her cell phone in the other. Emma saw the woman’s lips move as she ran toward the Escalade.

  “She’s trying to get a plate, let’s move,” Emma yelled the warning.

  The Escalade dug in, and then shot forward. Mono leaned out and squeezed off two shots in Sullivan’s direction. Emma winced at the loud sound the gun made as it fired. She watched the guard dive to the ground.

  “Enough!” Emma said.

  “I missed her.” Mono aimed anew.

  “Stop it!” Oz said. He yanked the wheel to the left and the Escalade skidded into a turn. Emma grabbed at the handrail above her head. Mono fell ten inches backward, into the car. The hand holding the gun flew up, and he hit his knuckles on the top of the window’s frame.

  “Watch what you do!” Mono said. Oz ignored him. He turned right at the top of the driveway in front of the corporate offices and the car gained even more speed on the straightaway down the drive toward the main road. The Escalade’s headlights were off, but low solar street illuminators glowed on either side, making it possible to see despite the darkness. Emma watched behind them the entire length of the road, but Ms. Sullivan didn’t appear.

  Oz turned the car onto the street and took the vehicle to an even higher speed. Once they were out off the campus, he switched on the headlights and barreled ahead.

  “Where are we going?” he said to Mono.

  Mono pressed a key on his cell phone and spoke in low tones. After a moment he said, “The interstate entrance is coming up in two kilometers. Take it east.”

  Oz nodded.

  The blue-and-red interstate sign reflected the beam of the car’s headlights. Oz entered the eastbound ramp, opening the throttle when they reached the top, and merged onto the highway. The Escalade raced down the interstate, dodging slower traffic that appeared in its path. They continued to drive, Oz keeping the speedometer at ninety and concentrating on weaving in and out of traffic.

  No one spoke. Emma sat and worried about the various diseases Oz could have, and the list running through her mind was an ugly one. She felt despair nipping at the edges of her mind. She pushed back the thought. She’d cure him.

  She wouldn’t let today be his day to die.

  Chapter 25

  “Emma Caldridge broke into a pharmaceutical lab in Nebraska, tied up a scientist working there, used the lab to run some tests on an accomplice, and, when she was discovered, shot at the security guard on duty.”

  Banner and Sumner were sitting in an all-suite business hotel near the Phoenix Airport when Stromeyer called to deliver this news. Banner was lounging in front of the hotel-room desk, his feet on the top, eating a Subway sandwich, when he’d hit the speaker button to take Stromeyer’s call. Now he swung his feet off the desk and stood, unable to believe what he’d heard. Sumner stopped eating his own sandwich and stared at the phone with an expression of surprise on his face.

  “Are you joking?” Banner asked.

  “No. I have the sheriff of the town on the line, do you want to speak to him?”

  Banner sat back down in his chair. “Yes, I believe I do.”

  “Mr. Banner? Sheriff Carl Wiley here.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?” Banner said.

  “Near as we can tell, Ms. Caldridge lied to gain access to the Medicant Pharmaceutical building. Once inside, she opened a side door, and two accomplices, both men, joined her. She then helped herself to the equipment and supplies in a lab. When a scientist who was working late stumbled upon them, one of the men threatened to kill him and the other tied him up. The security guard for the building intercepted Caldridge as she ran out of the building to join her buddies, and they sped away in a black SUV. They escaped, but not before they squeezed off a couple of shots at the guard.”

  “Was the guard hit?”

  “No. Missed. There’s a security camera in the main hallway that leads to the lab. We’re looking at it now. Maybe we can get a picture of the three of them. Figure out who the men are.”

  “Sheriff, I’ve known Ms. Caldridge for some time now, and she would never allow someone innocent to be attacked. She must have been coerced.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it at all. The scientist said she was marching around the lab issuing orders that the two men followed.”

  “Do you h
ave any idea where she is now?”

  “I do not. Got an APB out on a black SUV. American made.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Four hours later Banner and Sumner pulled up in a rented car in front of the county police station in a town a hundred miles from Omaha. It was a small modern, rectangular brown brick building with glass doors. An empty flagpole held a prominent position on the front lawn. Banner parked at the side of the building.

  Once inside, Banner saw a long counter facing him that was covered in some sort of pressed wood veneer. Tacked on a far wall was a large seal with the words E PLURIBUS UNU on it. A tired-looking cop sat behind the counter under a harsh fluorescent light, reading the newspaper. He threw it down when they entered.

  “Can I help you?”

  Banner introduced himself and Sumner. He pointed at the seal. “You’re missing the em,” he said.

  The cop gave a world-weary nod. Like he’d had that pointed out to him a thousand times before.

  “Fell off in the ’06 tornado, and the county hasn’t authorized the repair.”

  “Been a while,” Banner said. The cop smiled.

  “Bureaucracy gears turn real slowly around here.” The cop swung open a lower half door that separated the private area behind the desk from the hall and waved them forward. “Josh told me you were coming. He’s got the witness in the interrogation room.” Banner looked at his watch.

  “That’s a long time to talk to a witness.”

  “Oh, they just started. Get a load of this: witness went back to work after the incident. Only came here after. Crazy, huh? I’d be home popping a beer and saying thanks to the Lord. Guy must be a real workaholic.”

  “Bet if he worked for the county you’d have that em back on your seal by now,” Sumner said.

  The cop guffawed. “Bet you’re right.” He pointed them to a door with a sign that read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. “Through there. Second door on your left.”

  The room contained two men and a long wooden table with four chairs, all of which had seen better days. One of the men, the one that Banner presumed was Sheriff Wiley, was in uniform, the other—Banner knew his name was John Raynor—in conservative clothes. Raynor looked tired, but not nearly as tired as Sheriff Wiley, and a Blackberry phone sat on the desk in front of him. Once again, Banner introduced himself and Sumner, and shook hands all around.