Deviation

Deviation
Copyright © 2014 A.J. Maguire

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in Canada by Double Dragon eBooks, a division of Double Dragon Publishing Inc. of Markham Ontario, Canada.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from Double Dragon Publishing Inc.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Double Dragon eBooks
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http://double-dragon-ebooks.com
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Cover art by Deron Douglas
ISBN-10: 1-77115-191-9
ISBN-13: 978-1-77115-191-7
First Edition August 14, 2014

By A.J. Maguire

"Patients are lining the walls in emergency rooms across the nation as more women show signs of the Mavirus Carcinoma. The disease, first reported in Rochester, New York, continues to spread while scientists and doctors remain confused as to its origins. The troubling aspects of the case make it all the more important to locate the source of the disease." - A.P. December 20, 2181

July 18, 2010

"This is your last book tour, Reesa Zimms." The woman holding the gun said with such authority that Reesa's stomach knotted in reaction. "I need to know who Patient Zero is and I need to know now."

There were several different kinds of heroes, Reesa thought numbly as she stared at the gun. John Wayne's no-nonsense, hit-'em-with-the-butt of your weapon came to mind, but she had very little in common with the heroes he portrayed and she'd be the first to admit it. Clinging to Jake's belt, Reesa tried to work up the courage to at least think straight. Because if she didn't think of something very quickly, her publicist of eight years was going to be shot right in the middle of Brady's Belfue Bookstore. Her immediate instinct to run was curtailed by the chest-high bookshelves boxing them in and her legs refused to move.

Jake's shoulder blocked part of her view, shielding her from the gun. He stood poised and unmoving, his six foot frame a solid presence in the store front. His attention never wavered from the threat in front of them. Reesa's chest went tight;
who would've thought Jake had it in him?
Her mind ticked off several reasons why he'd place himself in danger for her, most of them dealing with their business relationship. She was his client, after all, but a publicist was a far cry from a bodyguard.

When Reesa still hadn't answered, Jake shifted just-so, bringing more of his body between her and the gun. He hesitated, but finally managed to speak; "She already told you she doesn't know."

Reesa heard the slight waver in his usually self-assured tone - even if the woman couldn't - and felt the muscles in his back coil. He almost sounded normal, as though there was nothing strange about a woman with a tattoo in her eyeball pointing a gun at them.

Hero, Reesa thought, her fingers tightening on his belt so hard she could feel the leather edge bite into her skin; maybe not John Wayne, but a hero just the same.

"In the first book
, Martian Tribulation
, page eighty-five, you wrote that the Mavirus had a starting point, a Patient Zero, but that scientists never found her." Tattoo woman continued to speak to Reesa, ignoring Jake's presence completely. "But that doesn't mean
you
don't know who she is."

Internally, Reesa decided she was going to try her hand at the young adult market. She doubted J.K. Rowling had ever been held up by a fan demanding to know where Diagon Alley really was. For that matter, Reesa had never known her fan base included the cult-like insane until two minutes ago.

The blonde woman was dressed in an overly plush jacket that seemed to swallow her in cadet-blue, stained fabric. Her face, however, was clearly visible - all smooth contours and elegant features, and Reesa was struck with a strange sense of recognition. She was familiar, even with the tattooed eyeball, but Reesa couldn't place her in her memory. She was beautiful like a diamond, Reesa thought; pretty to look at but cold and hard to touch.

For half a heartbeat Reesa hoped she saw conflict in Tattoo Woman's gray-green eyes. And then those eyes hardened, slitting into a glare that froze Reesa's blood. Tattoo depressed the trigger and the shot cracked into the little bookstore, echoed by the barely stifled screams of those unfortunate customers who'd come in for Reesa's autograph. Jake grunted in painful surprise, slamming back against her.

Scrambling to catch him, Reesa released his belt and wrapped her arms around his lean torso. But he was three inches taller than she was and at least fifty pounds heavier. They toppled backward, crashing into the book signing table, which promptly slid into the nearest bookshelf. Reesa's head connected with the hardwood floor an instant later, sharp lights bursting into her vision on impact. Jake landed heavily on top of her, his head smacking into her shoulder so hard that her fingers went numb.

Books showered around them, paperbacks plunking to the ground, their titles reflecting the halogen lights in a strangely innocuous way. Shocked out of the present, Reesa blinked at one cover in particular.
Ender's Game
, it read, Orson Scott Card's novel. Next to it was a copy of her third novel:
The Jupiter Invasion, a Tale of the Lothogy.
Its copper lettering taunted her from the floor just before Tattoo stepped back into view.

Tattoo's perfect mouth twisted into a scowl. "I tried to avoid this."

Jake groaned and cursed, his body rolling halfway off her so that he could grip his left shoulder. Reesa wrapped herself around him, her hands automatically covering the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He had gone an unnaturally gray color, his face pasty with sweat. She could feel the slick of warm blood under her fingers, and for a panicked moment forgot that Tattoo was still there. Blood rimmed his baby blue shirt, making a rusty stain that peeked out from where she clutched tight to the wound. His hand covered hers, strong and clammy.

In the back of her mind, Reesa wondered if there was an exit wound. She'd never been shot but she'd written about it enough times that she knew that exit wounds were preferable to having the bullet lodged in his body. Her mind stumbled, unable to calculate distances, velocity, angles or location. All she could think to do was hold on, to stare at his handsome-set face and pray help arrived soon.

"Crazy bitch," Jake hissed through his teeth.

Finally remembering that Tattoo was standing over them, Reesa glared up at the woman; "You shot him!"

"He is irrelevant. Tell me of the Mavirus." Tattoo wasn't looking at them; she was scanning the room, checking the exits.

Jake was right, she really was a crazy bitch. For an instant, Reesa thought she recognized the movement. It was deliberate, focused, and the way Tattoo held the weapon appeared disciplined and controlled. This woman, Reesa realized, was trained.

"The Mavirus is a fictional disease from a fictional work ... " Reesa's words were cut short as the woman made a point of chambering another round.

"Patient Zero."

It was the cool, calm gaze from the tattooed eyeball that made Reesa's heart stop. For an agonizing moment she thought she might have a heart attack, if the fanatical woman didn't shoot her first. But then Tattoo leveled the weapon at Jake's head and Reesa felt the stuttered, heavy thud of her heartbeat again.

There should have been some sort of rage, she thought. Heroes always came to this moment and were ignited by overwhelming fury that bypassed courage, but in that breathless second Reesa could only find a heavy, icy knot of fear in her chest. She wasn't a hero, she was a novelist; a quiet, intelligent, seafaring novelist. Violence was reserved for the pages of her work, not for her irritatingly handsome publicist.

Reesa opened her mouth to say something, but could only manage a pathetic squeak.

She
was
a novelist. All she had to do was make something up.

Reesa's mind flashed to her books, to her stupid "world-building" and all the notes that cluttered her workspace at home. Then the muzzle of the gun lowered a fraction, distracting her again because it was aimed at Jake's chest. Reesa gripped Jake's body tighter, anticipating another shot as she tried to find something useful to say or do.

"The-the Mavirus Carcinoma," every word she said seemed to trip over her tongue, flying out with a rush of adrenaline as she prayed that the police would get there soon. "First reported outbreak was December 12, 2181. At least ... at least that's what's on my outline. Please don't shoot him again."

"I know what was reported, Reesa Zimms. I want what wasn't reported. I need Patient Zero. I need a name."

"I don't have a name!"

"You have to have the name!"

"Damnit, Reesa, just make one up," Jake half-growled and Reesa winced.

Tattoo took one step toward her and hesitated, scowling at the front of the store. For a moment Reesa could do nothing but thank God for the flash of red and blue that filled the room. Sirens whined, filtering in through the brick walls and half opened door. Glancing at the window, Reesa felt a surge of relief. Tattoo said something but she couldn't hear it, then the woman turned and ran for the back of the store.

Reesa watched her go, one hand clutched around Jake's body, still pushing hard against the wound in his shoulder. Tattoo's overly-large coat flapped open in the retreat and Reesa was assaulted with a new sort of shock. Starting at mid-thigh, the woman's leg cut off into pure robotics, joints and gears clearly visible until the foot disappeared into a boot. Reeling in disbelief, Reesa continued to stare after her, transfixed by the whirr of machinery mounted to her leg. A moment later, Tattoo disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind her.

Chaos burst into the bookstore as police barreled in, several rushing after Tattoo and several more moving to usher people out. Dazed, Reesa looked down at Jake, who was swearing and trembling in her lap. It took her a moment to realize what he was saying.

"And I thought ... you were the biggest nut-job I'd ever met."

He probably meant to make her laugh, but she couldn't find the humor. Instead, she shifted to hold him better, pressing her forehead to his as the gravity of the moment overwhelmed her. Bodies crowded around them but she didn't move. Reesa just closed her eyes and tried to stop crying. She couldn't remember when she'd started, and she knew she looked hysterical and weak, but she imagined people would forgive her for that.

Someone was trying to talk to her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, but still she didn't move.

It wasn't until Jake touched her cheek, his sweaty, cold palm pressing against her skin, that she found the will to withdraw. Gazing down at him, Reesa could read the strength and relief in his eyes. He would survive, she knew. If Tattoo had wanted him dead, she would have aimed more to the center of Jake's body. His dark blue eyes softened a bit, and he trailed his fingers over her jaw.

"Ma'am, we need you to move your hand."

Blinking, she tore her gaze away from Jake and to the barrel-chested paramedic at her side. Olive-skinned and serious, the paramedic had already located what he needed to take care of Jake and was poised beside them, ready for action. Obediently, Reesa let go of Jake and allowed herself to be pulled away.

Her eyes strayed to the bathroom where two of the policemen were trying to kick the door down. Another paramedic was trying to talk to her, calmly flirting in what she assumed was an attempt to soothe her shattered nerves. She was in shock, she knew that in a disjointed way. She was cold, her heart was thudding so hard in her chest that she couldn't really hear much, and her body couldn't stop shaking. But try as she might, she could not pull her attention from the bathroom door.

"This is your last book tour, Reesa Zimms."
Tattoo's voice echoed through her. Lightheaded, Reesa felt her knees give way. Strong arms caught her, but she didn't have time to see who it was.

"The United Nations announced Tuesday that the Hawaiian Islands were to be converted into a Mavirus sanctuary. All men, children, and uninfected women have been ordered to evacuate as the first of the infected are shipped in. Standing just seven months after the Mavirus Carcinoma's first victims perished, the U.N. has promised that the sanctuary is only temporary as top scientists from across the globe scramble for a cure."
--A.P. Thursday, July 24, 2182

April 9, 2998

"You must fully understand what you are agreeing to," Celeocia watched the woman with shrewd, unfaltering surveillance. Shrouded in black robes that managed to look rich in spite of the simplicity of the garment, the candidate kept her eyes on the marbled floor just in front of Celeocia's feet. "The Novo require a lifetime commitment. You will never marry. You will go where and when the Temple decides. Should you choose to disobey any direction given to you, the Temple holds the right to send you to a correctional facility where you will be held indefinitely."