The Iron Quill (12 page)

Once inside the car, Wes explained to me that they were security officers from the lab and Dr. Lyon thought it was a good idea to have them tail along for a while. I have to say, having them following us made me feel like an important person with a target on her life, but safe nonetheless, so I didn’t complain.

Besides, I really didn’t have time. Wes bombarded me with questions about Chase and Tim the whole way to his lab. And although I could sense some gratitude toward Chase for ratting on Tim, Wes was less sympathetic about his death than I was.

It didn’t take long to realize that I was the only one explaining events. By the time I was done, we were at the lab. I’m not sure if Wes did that on purpose or if the details surrounding Chase and Tim were that important. Regardless, I made a note to get the information
I
wanted as soon as we had alone time again.

I’d never been to the research facility and was sort of shocked at how intimidating it looked. I half expected to see a NASA sign or rocket launch pad off to the side.

For starters, it was gated with a black six-foot iron fence. The entryway was manned by a uniformed guard. Once past the gate, we traveled down a paved double-lined road along a freshly landscaped stretch of greenery and flowers.

The building itself was a plain, four story, white brick rectangular structure with very few windows. Surrounded by mulch and flowers was a blue sign with white letters that read, California Blood Research Lab.

Dr. Lyon pulled into the first reserved parking space, and the Tahoes parked a few spaces down.

The short walk to the front led us to a small lobby with two more uniformed guards sitting behind a small counter-height desk decorated with a matching blue and white California Blood Research Lab sign.

Upon our approach, the dark-skinned, bald guard stood, prompting Dr. Lyon to flash and swipe his badge.

Dr. Lyon broke the silence, “Gentlemen.”

The guard nodded and turned to Wes, clearly recognizing him but still looking for his badge.

Dr. Lyon spoke up again. “We do not have Weston’s today.”

“No problem.” He flashed a nice smile and then turned to me. “We’ll just need the guest to sign in and—”

Wes cut him off. “No. She’ll be fine. No need.”

“But the protocol—”

Unsure what was happening, I looked away from the suspicious guards while they debated. I focused my attention on the large plasma TVs, on each side of the lobby, playing a medical documentary, in unison.

Even as I focused on a cell diagram and the instructional voiceover, I heard Dr. Lyon speak up. “Stephen, Mr. Wilson is in charge of protocol here, and this young lady is his personal guest. He’ll account for her.”

Without further argument, he stepped back and diverted his attention to the guards from the Tahoes who satisfyingly flashed and swiped their badges as Wes led me past.

Once through the lobby, we approached an area with two elevators on each side. Dr. Lyon pressed the button on the left wall. Watching Wes let Dr. Lyon take charge showed me how much Wes appreciated and welcomed his guidance.

After a silent minute, the doors opened and I reluctantly went in, realizing I was in an environment completely foreign to me.

It was overtly apparent that we were not headed to a classroom, library, or study hall. This was grown-up stuff, which had only recently begun to suit me. I’d only been eighteen for six months and during that time, I’d teetered between feeling like an adult and a minor. I think it was because becoming an adult brought me closer to nineteen and that’s not something I looked forward to. But now, it was time to grow up, like it or not.

I watched Dr. Lyon swipe his badge again and press the button for the fourth floor. The entire time, I was mentally preparing myself for what lay ahead.

I was no longer Sophie who had homework to do or Sophie who has a boyfriend, who had fallen in love for the first time, who is afraid to die, afraid of losing Wes. I was now a woman, a survivor, and a fiancée.

The fiancée of someone who had the ability to change the world. To be selfless. And being in his element made me painfully aware that life was not about me surviving past nineteen or getting to kiss him forever. It was about making a difference that would affect other people forever.

We stepped off that elevator and the hustle and bustle of lab techs, doctors, and more security solidified that the future should not be about me or whether Sophie and Wes live happily ever after.

Walking further, I was guided through white hallways with several closed and secured doors. I overheard Dr. Lyon, walking ahead of us, give a general update on the previous hours’ events to other lab personnel.

With Wes’ arm still around me, I listened intently as Dr. Lyon described how he’d called Dr. Carter and picked Wes up during the night. When he was finished with his account, he gave instructions to remain in lockdown. I felt my arms tighten around Wes at the mention of security, leading him to rub my back as we made our way through the last door.

Surprisingly, the room we entered was a rather large lounge area with modern leather sofas. Two couches sat perpendicular to each other and seemed to invite anyone to plop themselves into their plush cushions.

The walls were filled with abstract paintings. The more I looked around, the more I was reminded of Wes’ house. Nicely decorated, but without much of a female touch to it.

By the time I finished observing my surroundings, the men had begun to file into another room just off to the right. I peeked past their shoulders and could make out a long rectangular conference table surrounded by more plush leather seating.

Right about then, Dr. Lyon turned to Wes and told him that I needed to stay outside. Wes nodded and turned to me.

I felt myself leaning forward, waiting for an explanation.

“It’ll be all right,” he said. “I’ve got to sit in on this meeting, and they’ll only allow board members to enter. I’ll be right inside. You can call for me if you need anything.”

I looked around, not loving the idea of sitting alone, but I sucked up the disappointment of being the odd one out and nodded.

My lack of resistance sparked a small smile from Wes, and he leaned down to kiss my forehead with a gentle rub of my arms. “There are drinks in the fridge over there and snacks in the basket on the counter. I’ll be out soon.”

With that, he turned and followed Dr. Lyon into the boardroom. I spun around on my heels and took in the surroundings one more time. Zeroing in on the magazines, I made myself physically comfortable while trying to find entertainment in dozens of medical magazines.

I felt so naïve. I had always had an interest in the medical field, but everything I flipped through was over my head. If I were going to have any shot at a career at all, I’d have to get with the program. Start being more proactive.

By the time Wes and Dr. Lyon came out, my brain was crammed with information from arthritis to treating the common cold. Relieved, I stood and found myself tucked under his protective arm. Indescribable feelings of contentment fluttered through me, in spite of the most unromantic surroundings. And I knew right then that even though life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated, the connection that made Wes and me so special was not going away.

A
fter we both thanked Dr. Lyon, Wes guided me toward the door with his hand on the small of my back.

“What was that all about?” I asked as we headed toward the elevator.

“The board just wanted to make sure the lab was secure.”

“They needed you to come all the way here for that?”

I turned myself square to him while we waited for the doors to open. “Well, sort of. We’re very close to launching a test study for some life-changing cures. It’s
very
important that nothing leaks yet. They want to make sure the people who were interested in my knowledge weren’t onto our real progress.”

I was oddly curious now, wanting to know what I was missing. “Real progress in what? What kind of cures?” I asked in a near whisper, feeling that we shouldn’t be talking about it.

“I can’t really say,” he whispered back, contorting his face in way that said he wished he could. Even though I knew everything regarding the lab was confidential, I still didn’t like Wes keeping secrets. Lab or no lab, it really bugged me.

“Wes. Are you really planning to keep secrets from me?” I frowned like the child I was so hoping not to be any more.

He studied me, and I watched as his gaze surveyed each crease in my face.

“Okay, fine,” he said turning me toward the elevator, so our backs were to anyone else filing in and out of the lounge from which we had come. “We’re very close to having a cure for HIV and leukemia. We’re almost ready to launch test studies, but they need to make sure our research doesn’t get into the wrong hands.”

The elevator finally dinged and we stepped inside, alone.

“What happens if it gets into the wrong hands?”

“Well for one, millions of dollars worth of hard-earned research results could be stolen, and for another, if it’s not done right, the treatments could cause more harm than good.”

“Harm?” I asked, leaning in.

“Death, actually.” The elevator started moving.

“Could I see one of the labs?” I don’t know why I asked that. If he wasn’t supposed to tell me about the medicines, he definitely couldn’t take me to where they make them.

He studied me for a moment and then surveyed the upper corners of the elevator like he was checking for cameras or something.

“I can show you one floor. I don’t think they’ll mind that.”

A feeling of excitement touched my ribs, but then another thought struck me.

“Isn’t this
your
lab? I mean why can’t you do what you want?”

“It’s not
my
lab. I own it, but the research belongs to the scientists and doctors who’ve made it their life’s work to find these cures. My uncle implemented very strict security measures to ensure no one stole his or anyone else’s hard work.”

Listening to him talk made me remember that my world had consisted of a small bubble until recently. Just me, my mom, and my computer. Suddenly I felt so small and so naïve, and so fine with not being able to see the “secure floor.” Just then, Wes reached out and hit the button for the second floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to the reagent laboratory.”

“You don’t have to, Wes—”

I didn’t want him going out of his way to make an exception for me.

“It’s fine,” he said with his half smile returning, making me focus on how much I
missed
him.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, and I think you’ll find this area the most interesting anyway.”

He winked and his face held a devious look. It was one I remembered well, reminding me of the time he had invited me to climb into a race car window.

What on Earth is he about to have me do?
Just as the elevator doors opened, he tightened his arm around my waist and I was glad he wasn’t shoving me out there to fend for myself in whatever he had planned.

The hall was white and bright, like a hospital. I didn’t expect anything less, but the visual still bombarded me until I needed to squint away during the transition from the dim elevator.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, inching myself closer to him until my feet were practically tripping over his as we walked.

“You’ll see,” he said, giving me nothing.

About thirty yards and ten closed doors later, we made a right turn and entered a wider hallway with glass windows all along the right side. An instant peek into the room revealed a humongous glass tank filled with murky water. Wes stopped and once we weren’t moving, I was able to take a closer look.
Oh, my gosh.

What. The. Heck. Are. Those?

“Wes?”

“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Um.”

“Horseshoe crabs,” he said, leaning into my ear from behind.

“Horse what?” I asked unable to peel my eyes away from a tank full of dozens of strange crabby, stingray-shaped things.

“Horse. Shoe. Crabs,” he repeated.

“I have never heard of them.” At that point I started to sidestep my way down the hall, surveying the captured creature things. About twenty or so paces later I came to a smaller room connected to the aquatic tank area. Inside were four lab techs lined up with their backs to us working diligently at a counter. That’s when I saw the crabby things hanging upside down in some sort of harness.

“What are they doing?” I blurted out, looking quickly from Wes and back to the window for an answer.

“They’re bleeding them,” he answered unconcerned.

“Wes!” I wanted to burst through there and tell them to stop. Not that I would touch one of those creepy things with a ten-foot pole, but the nurse and rescuer of those in need started to surface. And then I looked at Wes, disappointed that he didn’t care.

“Why are you doing this to them?” I asked, fixing my concerned and confused gaze on him.

Realizing that I was getting worked up, he turned me back toward the window and placed his hands on my biceps from behind.

“It’s okay, Sophie. They aren’t hurting them.”

“But you’re killing them. How is that not hurting them?”

Squeezing my arms in a comforting gesture, he clarified. “No, no, we’re not hurting them. They are just extracting some blood. Then they release them back into their natural habitat.”

Blood?
What I saw was a blue liquid being passed down from one lab tech to the next.

“What is that?” I asked pointing to the vials.

“It’s blood.”

“It’s blue,” I countered.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a relaxed smile.

“It’s blue because it’s copper-based. Pretty interesting, huh?”

“Um.” I wasn’t sure what I thought about the strange slippery-looking crabby stingray things. My gaze was now fixated on their legs, which were moving around in slow, creepy, circular motions. “It’s sort of gross,” I continued, unable to contain my thoughts.