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Authors: Jacqueline Druga

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BOOK: Amoeba (The Experiments)
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CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

 

I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island
August 20
th
- 3:00 p.m.

 

Rickie stopped and inhaled with a giant whiff when he stepped into the small kitchen. Pots steamed on the stove, and the aroma smelled so good to Rickie. “Stan, Stan, the culinary man.” Rickie peeked at the pots. “Look at you cooking up the ingestable pasta delight. I should be calling you chef Stan-R-Dee.” Rickie chuckled and turned when Lou walked in with Billy. “Dudes. Check out Stan cooking for us all.”

Stan blushed. “I just love it. And since we’re all pretty hungry all the time
, my meal will be appreciated.”

Jake walked in w
ith Cal. “I’m following the scent. And Billy, where are your shoes?”

Billy looked down to his feet and wiggled his toes. “Ask you
r pseudo son.”

“I’m asking you. That is foul
,” Jake told him.

“Jake
,” Billy said, ignoring Cal’s laughing. “You’re the one who told Rickie that he could purify water if he ran it through charcoal. Well, he took my charcoal inserts out of my shoes and they hurt without any insides.”

Jake looked at Rickie. “You did that?”

“Sarge, like, I had to experiment.”

“Good thinking.” Jake gave him a swat to the arm and turned his head to the stove when he heard the sizzl
ing sound. “Stan, your pots boiling over.”

Another sizzle and Stan looked. “Jake
, no it’s not. Look, I have the . . .” Horror filled Stan’s eyes when he reached for the burner. From the hood above the stove, slow and steady they dropped down. Amoebas. “Oh shit.”

Jake spun to Cal. “Get back.” As he reached to shut the vent, down they poured
down and shot straight out adhering to Stan as if he was a magnet. Stan began to scream turning about.

Jake flipped up the vent
, and in bringing his arm , he reached out and grabbed the fire extinguisher next to the stove. “Lou. Get the other one!” Jake blasted the white cold air onto Stan who cried in pain, shocking the amoebas that covered him.

“Jake!” Cal’s scream mixed with Billy’s.

Jake spun to see Billy drop to the floor. Quickly he shot the extinguisher at Billy at the same time Lou raced into the room. Both men sent the mist about, freezing the amoebas that scurried around.

“Jake!” Billy screamed in agony. “Oh God
, Jake. There in!” He let out a shriek of pain, scrunching his face.

Jake looked down to Billy’s foot. The area below his toes literally bubbled.

Cal dropped to the floor by Billy. “Jake! Help him!”

Trying to block out Billy’s scream for help, Jake jumped over his body and raced from
the room. He returned a second later, running by Lou with a ‘get ready’. He positioned himself on one knee in front of Billy, and he lifted high . . . an ax. “Cal, hold him.”

“Oh God! No!” Billy cried out.

Cal braced Billy under his shoulders, clutching his head close to her chest and closing her eyes.

Jake watched the amoebas move up Billy’s leg expanding it as they did. His foot disintegrated, oozing its remains on
to the floor. “Lou. Get ready.” Jake held the ax firm, hurt on his face and in his voice. “I’m sorry, Bill. I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Billy cried out. And with a hard ‘slam’ of the ax against the floor, a gut wrenching bellow from Billy, a heart wrenching sob from Cal, Billy’s leg
was severed and blood shot out like a full force faucet with amoebas whistling loudly as they flew about.

Jake sprang up in the middle of the flying haze of fire extinguishers that Rickie and Lou
were spraying. He whipped his canvass belt off his pants and swooped it down catching Billy’s leg. Jake crossed over the ends, and yanked it tight with all of his might stopping the blood from flowing.

Billy
’s entire body shook, and he murmured sounds of pain, his head shaking from side to side. Cal still held him, her hands covering his face, her lips to his head, and she clenched him to her and cried loudly, sobs that were almost screams.

Jake stood
up from the river of blood on the floor. He ran his bloody hand across his face staring down to Billy, then up to Lou and Rickie. He closed his eyes briefly and reached down to help Stan to his feet. “You all right?”

Stan nodded. “Thank . . . Thank . . .” He closed his eyes tightly when he saw Billy on the floor. “Oh God.”

“Stan, what do you have here to cauterize this wound?” Jake asked. “We have to do this and we have to do this right now.”

“We have a small laser upstairs. That will work.”

“Get it,” Jake told him. “And what do you have for pain?”

“Some morphine. Not much.”

“Get that, too. Get all that you have, and anything, even ointment, that will help with infection.”

Stan nodded and backed up.

“Bandages!” Jake called out. “Hurry!” He turned to Rickie and Lou. “Blast the amoebas one more time, then get them picked up and burned before they revive.”

Both Lou and Rickie, looking at Billy, nodded their heads and quickly followed Jake’s orders.

Jake walked over and squatted down before Cal and Billy. “Cal.” He said her name strongly. “You have to calm down.”

Cal was hyperventilating, holding on to Billy. “I . . . I . . . I can’t. Oh God. I . . Can’t.”

“Cal. Listen to me.” Jake grabbed her arm. He had never seen Cal that hysterical. He worried that she, too, would go into shock. “He needs you strong. Get strong. Right now. It’s only gonna get worse.”

Cal nodded.

“Babe, I’ll get someone else to hold him.”

“NO!” Cal shook her head. “No.”

“Okay.” Jake looked up when Stan ran back in the room. “We have to do this. Stan, give him one good dose. We’ll save the rest for later.”

“We had more than I thought
, Jake. We’ll be good for a while.”

“Hit him
,” Jake ordered. “Cal.” Jake braced under Billy’s arms and lifted him into Cal and between her legs. “Use your body, okay?”

“O
kay.” Cal closed her eyes. “Billy,” she whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

Billy just stared
, saying nothing, his breathing rapid and huffing.

Jake took his pulse,
and that, too, was rapid. “We can’t wait for the drug to kick in. Stan.” Jake held out his hand.

Stan laid the laser into Jake’s palm, pushing the rest of the machine closer. “All ready.”

Jake knelt before Billy’s severed leg. He was grateful that it was a clean cut under the knee. It would make his job, though heart breaking, easier to do. Jake swore at that moment he was feeling every ounce of pain Billy was and every ounce of pain he saw on Cal’s face. “Hold him Cal. Get ready.” Taking a deep breath, Jake brought the laser into Billy’s injury. And with the first touch, the first singeing sound of flesh, Billy released one more long shrill cry of pain and then his head dropped to the right and he passed out.

 

 

^^
^^

 

The storage closet was deemed the best place. Closed off, no ventilation, no cool air from the air conditioning. Private. All the boxes had been moved out and a mattress moved in. A single box was left for water, cloths, and medication.

Jake checked the bandaging on Billy’s leg, propped it up on a pillow
, then covered him with the third blanket. Billy was sleeping. Jake checked his pulse, felt the temperature and feel of his skin, and then stood up. He looked at Cal who leaned, back to him, face buried in her hands, against a shelf. “Cal.” Jake walked over to her. “Listen. We have no IV’s. Whenever he wakes up, and I’ll tell this to everyone, we have to push the fluids. You got that?”

Cal nodded.

Hearing a soft sob come from his wife, Jake moved closer to her laying his hand on her shoulder. Cal immediately spun and fell into his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around her so tight. “I’m going to get you a drink.”

“I don’t want a drink.”

“You need one. You need to calm down. This is not good for our babies, all right?” He felt her head nod in agreement against his chest. He moved back a little and lifted her chin. “I am so sorry for this.”

“Why would you apologize
? You saved his life.”

“I feel really bad. You’re so upset
, Cal.”

“I can’t help it.” Cal looked at Billy. “This is the second experiment. I’ve seen a lot of horrible things. But this . . . it just hit me.”

“Billy isn’t a nameless, faceless participant. He’s your friend. Your really good friend. Of course it’s going to hurt to see this.”

Cal wiped her hand hard across her face, pushing away the tear
s. “I don’t want to leave him tonight, Jake. I don’t want to leave his side. What if he wakes up? What if he’s in pain, scared, and just needs someone? I . . .”

“Cal.” Jake laid his finger across her lips. “It’s fine. You stay with him.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m sure.” Jake looked down
at Billy. “Stay. In fact, I have to go do a check of the building. I’ll stop back.”

“O
kay.” Cal tipped toed up and kissed Jake. She folded her arms and moved to the floor by Billy, lowering herself down slowly.

“I’ll get you something to sit on
?” Jake told her.

“Jake?” Cal called to him.

Jake stopped in his reaching for the door. “Yeah?”

“Jake, I am so very proud of you. So proud of how you reacted today and what you did. Just know that.”

Closing his mouth, Jake softly smiled at Cal. “Thank you for that.” He gave Cal a peaceful look, then feeling better, walked from the closet.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

 

I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island
August 21
st
- 7:45 a.m.

 

Billy’s head tossed side to side avoiding the cool cloth that Cal tried to wipe him with. He moaned softly, eyes closed, his body shifting in a turn of agitation.

“Jake.” Cal looked
at Jake as he examined the amputation. “He’s in pain.”

“I know
,” Jake spoke softly. “But there’s not much we can do. Right now I don’t want to give him too much morphine. He’s still in shock and the pain hasn’t hit him entirely yet. I want to conserve what we have for when that happens.”

“What can I do?”

“Cal, there really isn’t much you can do. But . . .” Jake covered Billy’s leg back up. “He’s doing better than I expected. I’ll be back.” Slowly, Jake walked from the closet, where Rickie and Lou were waiting in the hall.

“Sarge
, like, how is he?” Rickie asked.

Jake shook his head and walked to the recreation room.

“Sarge.” Rickie and Lou followed “Sarge?”

“He’s not good
, Rickie.” Jake peered down to him. “Not at all. He lost a lot of blood. He’s in shock, and God forbid infection starts. We’re in trouble.”

“Is he going to make it?” Lou asked.

Jake hesitated before he answered. “No. In my opinion, I will be surprised if Billy lives out the week.” He saw the odd shifting eye looks on Lou and Rickie. “What?” Jake turned around to see Cal.

Cal slammed the cloth into his chest. “You just lied to me in there.”

“No, I did not.”

“You told me he was doing good.”

“No, Cal. I told you he was doing better than I expected, and that’s the truth.”

“Is it?” Cal demanded.

“Yes.”

“Be honest with me
, Jake. How bad is he?”

“He could be worse.”

“Jake.”

“Cal.” Jake softened his voice with compassion. “Billy is . . . Billy is dying.” He blinked long when he heard the sadness seep from Cal. It hurt him to tell her. “I’m sorry. Without proper medical treatment, the only thing we can do is make him comfortable
, and that’s why I’m saving the morphine. If infection sets in, we can pretty much push him close to overdose.”

“How long will it be before we know that?”

“Soon,” Jake told her. “His temperature will rise first. It may rise anyhow because of the trauma, but that is the first sign. If he makes it through the next few days without any signs of infection, we may be in the clear. I’ll keep checking and cleaning it, but short of giving him antibiotics, we’re at a loss. I’m sorry.”

Cal swallowed harshly. “I’m not giving up hope. There’s still hope, right
? Tell me there’s still hope.”

“There’s always hope.”

“Thank you.” Sadly, Cal nodded once, bent down, picked up the rag from the floor, and slowly turned and walked back to the Billy.

Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA
August 21
st
- 9:10 a.m.

 

Amber. Glowing. Thick black smoke bellowing up. The islands of Molokai and Lanai sizzled away as the effects of the napalm reared its ugly head on the screens of the control room.

Greg s
hook his head slowly. “Let’s . . . let’s turn this off.”

Lyle did, switching to the participants and Stan at the control center. “We’ve still received no word on Billy from Stan.”

“And we can’t see how he’s doing, either,” Greg said. “They have him in that closet.”

Aldo shook his head. “What is it about that closet?”

“All right.” Greg breathed out. “Let’s, uh, get back to what we were talking about.” He waited for the seven investors to sit.

Ivan raised his hand. “Any luck on that tip on Mr. Carrington
?”

“No
,” Greg answered. “Unfortunately, we’re drawing up nothing, but that tip got us a little closer. He was spotted three months ago with some blonde.”

“The man is like Elvis
,” Aldo snickered. “How many ‘Carrington spottings’ have we had?”

Greg laughed. “Too many.”

Douglass shook his head, baffled. “You would think if the man has a possible solution and an end to this like Jefferson, he would come forward.”

“HA
!” Aldo scoffed. “Would you come forward if you started all this shit, intentionally or not?”

“Yes
,” Douglass said.

“Bullshit.” Aldo chuckled at him. “You would not. Neither would I.”

“You’re right.” Douglass nodded.

“Well.” Greg cleared his throat to get
their attention. “Since we’ve established that we can’t count on finding Carrington, let’s get to the realistic phase of what we were discussing before. We’ve decided on a sea rescue. It’s the least disturbing should our amoebas revive from the freeze. The prototype is under construction, but scale testing that began yesterday is showing good results. Not lasting, mind you, but good, and that’s a start. The way we’re hoping it will run is that we’ll freeze the island. We’ll give you the details on the explosives as soon as we have them. We’re in a catch twenty-two because we can’t figure
those
out until we know our freeze time length. We know we want to lower a boat to what we hope will be the frozen tundra of the beach, Get our people to the boat while the ground is still frozen and move them out into the ocean where our choppers will pick them up three hundred fifty feet away. Barring no more deaths, we figure Jake and Lou will be able to row that boat with no problem and in no time.” He saw Watson, agitated, stand up. “Mr. Watson, is something wrong?”

“I have to get out of here.”

“And go where?” Greg asked.

“I . . . I don’t know. I need air, I just need air.” He bolted toward the door. “I think I’m going home. Yeah.”

Aldo leaned into Douglass. “Christ, another one. Keep all weapons away from him.”

“Mr
. Watson!” Greg called out. “I won’t stop you from leaving, but I will remind you of what we saw earlier this morning. Or didn’t you witness what was happening in downtown Los Angeles, rioting worse than with Rodney King.”

“I feel so trapped.” Watson ran his fingers through his hair. “My family is on my mind. I’m stuck here and unable to do anything.”

“You’re protected here and there is nothing you can do,” Greg told him. “Your family is safe. And you should think about your safety as well. What good will it do them if you run out, get in your car, and get killed ten minutes later?”

“It . . . it won’t be too good at all?” Watson had question in his voice.

Aldo whistled and twirled his finger around his own temple.

Greg ignored Aldo’s rude behavior. “Mr. Watson, come back in and have a seat.”

“Could I grab a croissant, too?”

“Yes you may.” Greg spoke to him as if dealing with a child. He took a long, unseen breath slowly through his nostrils as he watched Watson return, pausing at the
Danish table in debate. Greg turned his back to the investors, running his hand over his hair. He pretended to look at the monitor screens when actually he was hiding is facial expression of ‘oh boy’.

BOOK: Amoeba (The Experiments)
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