Apocalypse (The Ward Z Series Book 3) Page 7

  “Good morning, Mr. Velucci,” she said brightly. “Oh, I'm sorry, are you on the phone?”

  “It's fine,” he replied, turning away slightly. “I'll call you back later. Just try not to worry, everything is on track.” Setting his phone down, he turned back to Ruth with a broad grin. “Good morning, my dear, I hope you slept well. I know your room is a little small, but sometimes small can be more comfortable, don't you think?”

  “It's a lovely room. I'm just keen to get started and I don't quite understand yet what my duties will involve. Tell me, Ruth... Do you dream?”

  “Do I dream?” She paused. “Well... Sure. Everyone does, don't they?”

  “And what do you dream about? The past, perhaps?”

  “I dream about all sorts of things.”

  “Memories?”

  “I don't really know.” She was starting to feel a little hesitant now. “Mainly just about stuff that's happening right now.”

  “What about your parents?”

  She instantly bristled at that word.

  “So what exactly am I going to be doing?” she asked, forcing a smile.

  “You will sign this, I think,” he said, taking a form from one of the tables and handing it to her. “It's just a simple document confirming that you understand the need for confidentiality. The information to which you become privy at the villa is not for public dissemination.”

  “Of course,” she replied, taking a quick look at the document before grabbing a pen from the table and signing her name. As she did so, she heard footsteps and turned to see Ford entering the room.

  “Your primary role here,” Mr. Velucci continued, “will be to facilitate my work. I'm a very busy man, I field calls daily from all over the world, and I need to have someone who can help me process things faster. I can't divulge to you the full nature of the project, but as I've already mentioned we're working on the facilitation of a whole new era of existence on this planet. There are some very exciting times in store and you're going to be at ground zero, so to speak, of the whole thing.”

  “Speaking of which,” Ford said, “the entry records from last night have been analyzed, Sir, and... Well, we've finally got a hit.”

  “We do?” Mr. Velucci replied, raising both eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

  “There were 1,052 people at Apocalypse last night,” Ford continued, placing a set of print-outs on the table for him to see. “Slightly below a usual night's attendance, but still... Of those 1,052 people, 716 were female. They all passed through the security scanners as they entered the building and this time the scanners picked up the precise bio-chemical signature that you predicted.”

  “I knew it,” Mr. Velucci said, clearly enthused by the news. “Well then, who is she?”

  Tapping the screen, Ford brought up a black-and-white photo of Judy.

  “Pretty,” Mr. Velucci purred with a smile. “Do you have a name?”

  “We automatically cross-referenced this photo against all the ATM machines in Mallaca,” Ford replied, tapping the screen again to bring up a second image. “This is her, withdrawing some euros from one of the ATMs on the strip. With the information from the transaction, we were able to identify her as Judy Carter. We ran that name against the records from all the hotels in town, and we located her staying with her sister and two friends at the Mallaca Paradise Hotel. One of your establishments, Mr. Velucci, naturally.”

  “And there can be no mistake regarding the bio-chemical results?”

  “None whatsoever, Sir. We had to wait a while, but she finally arrived.” He paused. “Should I send someone to pick her up immediately?”

  “No,” Mr. Velucci replied, still staring at the screen. “I want her to come to us, and I'm sure she will. Even if she doesn't know it yet, her thought processes are undoubtedly being affected by her condition, and I'm confident she'll be guided in our direction sooner rather than later. I would much prefer to have her goodwill and cooperation from the start, rather than having to start off on the wrong foot.” He turned to Ruth. “My dear, I'm aware that this must all be very new to you, but I trust you're managing to keep up?”

  “I...” Ruth paused. “I mean, sure. I don't quite understand everything you're talking about, but I'm sure I'll get into the loop soon enough.”

  “You're not having second thoughts, are you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Good. I would hate to have to terminate your employment here so soon. I always find that process to be rather grueling for all concerned, although Mr. Ford sometimes enjoys the opportunities that arise.”

  “Sir,” Mr. Ford continued, “there's still the other matter we need to discuss.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Velucci replied, glancing at him for a moment before turning back to Ruth. “My dear, I'm going to have to ask you to leave us alone for a moment. There are certain issues that cannot be discussed openly, and I'm afraid it will take time before you're permitted to know the more sensitive matters of our operation. Please, go to my office and wait for me, I'll be along shortly.”

  “Well... Okay,” she said, a little surprised. “Sure.”

  “And when I come to find you,” he continued, “there is much that I want you to know. It's time for you to understand the true nature of our work here. I can only hope that your reaction is a little more measured than that of your predecessor Caitlin. When she saw what we have here, she rather lost her composure. I suppose she couldn't handle being part of something truly special.”

  “Caitlin is absolutely fine,” Mr. Ford replied. “I made sure of that myself.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Set your alarm for early!” Merrie said as she rolled over in her bed. “I'll show you the best ever cure for a hangover.”

  “Okay,” Judy murmured, flat on her back in the other bed and staring at the ceiling. “I'll...”

  Her voice trailed off.

  For a few hours now, she'd been feeling strange. Not just sick and weak; it was as if everything was draining from her body. Even walking into the room had been difficult. She'd tried drinking an espresso, hoping to get that usual kick from the caffeine, but even that hadn't worked, and now she couldn't help but notice a strange tingling sensation in her left arm. She swallowed, finding her throat dry, and she told herself that everything would be alright after a little nap.

  She closed her eyes, and she immediately saw the skull-faced man.

  Her eyes snapped open and she saw the room's cracked ceiling.

  She hesitated, and then she closed her eyes again.

  As soon as she saw the man, she opened her eyes.

  Figuring that sleep wasn't possible right now, she decided to get out of bed. She began to sit up, but in doing so she found that her body felt extremely heavy. She tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but now it was as if her body wouldn't respond at all. Finally she managed to prop herself up on her left elbow, but even this felt extremely difficult and she could feel her tired, heavy bones trying to drag her back down. There was some dizziness, too, and it was getting harder and harder to keep telling herself that everything was going to be okay.

  “Merrie,” she whispered, figuring that it was finally time to come clean. “Merrie, I need to talk to you.”

  Hearing no response, she looked over at her sister and realized she needed to try again.

  “Merrie,” she said, but if anything her voice was now even quieter. “Merrie, please...”

  The panic was starting to grow now. Still propped up – but barely – on her left elbow, Judy was starting to think that this was more than just another weak moment. Reaching down, she checked the bed-sheets between her legs for blood, but everything seemed dry. But as she tried again to call out to her sister, Judy realized that she could barely muster the strength to open her mouth, so she began to reach over in an attempt to grab Merrie's shoulder.

  Suddenly feeling as if she might faint, she pulled back, and finally she slumped down once more against the bed.

&nb
sp; “Merrie, help me,” she whispered, hoping against hope that somehow she might be heard.

  Slowly, her eyes slid shut, and this time she couldn't open them again. She could only stare at the image of the skull-faced man.

  “Merrie, please...”

  Over on the other bed, Merrie shifted her position slightly but remained on her side. She was deep in sleep, lost in a dream, and it was going to take a lot more than a few whispers to bring her around. She was even starting to snore slightly, letting out occasional grunts, but for the most part she was sleeping fairly soundly. And she had absolutely no idea that, on the other side of the room, her sister Judy was starting to shiver.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Mr. Velucci will see you now.”

  Turning away from the desk, Ruth saw that Mr. Ford was standing in the doorway.

  “Right,” she said, getting to her feet. “Is he -”

  “He is in the treatment room,” Mr. Ford continued, “next to his office. I offered to show you the way, but he suggested you would need no help. I'm sure you know the way.”

  “Sure.”

  She paused, before stepping over to the door and then slipping past Mr. Ford.

  “If I might offer you a word of advice?” he added.

  She turned to him.

  “Keep an open mind,” he continued. “There are those who are prepared for the future, and there are the masses who prefer to hide from progress. I sincerely hope that yours is an enlightened soul, Ms. McCoy.”

  “I... guess so,” she replied cautiously. “I mean, I like to think I'm kind of... progressive.”

  “Then prove it,” he said. “Go to Mr. Velucci. See what he has achieved. Look into the face of the future.”

  Ruth waited for him to continue, before realizing that he was done.

  “Fine,” she said, forcing as much of a smile as she could manage. “Can't wait.”

  ***

  “Mr. Velucci, are you in here?” Ruth asked a few minutes later as she gently pushed the door open. “I knocked, but...”

  Her voice trailed off as she saw a figure slumped in a chair at the far end of the room. The drapes were closed, allowing only a few slivers of light through from outside, but there were several electric lights on a set of machines close to the figure. There was a persistent beeping sound, too, and Ruth couldn't shake the feeling that she'd stumbled upon some kind of medical procedure, that maybe she'd arrived too soon.

  “I'm sorry,” she said, taking a step back, “I'll come back later when -”

  “No, come in,” Mr. Velucci said, his voice sounding a little weaker than usual. “Shut the door. Approach.”

  Ruth hesitated, before doing as she was told. She made sure that the door was properly closed, and then she began to make her way across the gloomy room. Each step felt wrong, as if she was invading Mr. Velucci's privacy, and she was starting to worry that perhaps her new job here at the villa might involve more than just general assistance work. Nobody had mentioned any nursing responsibilities, but she figured that maybe she'd simply misunderstood her new boss's expectations.

  “Thank you for coming, Caitlin,” Mr. Velucci said. “I trust that your day is going well so far?”

  “Um...”

  She paused, wondering whether to correct him.

  “It's Ruth,” she said finally. “Sorry.”

  “Oh.” He let out a labored sigh. “Of course. Caitlin was the other girl. I'm sorry, Ruth, it's just that sometimes these drugs make my mind a little hazy.”

  Ruth looked at the various drips and wires that connected Mr. Velucci's body to a set of machines. She was instantly reminded of the time, many years ago, when she was forced to visit her cancer-stricken aunt in a hospital. That had been just a few weeks before her aunt's death, and now she was seeing very similar equipment. There was a large clear bag hanging from a hook, filled with some kind of snow-white substance, and several more pipes ran from blood-bags and connected with Mr. Velucci's elbows.

  There was a smell, too.

  Something unnatural.

  Something potent and noxious.

  “Cancer,” Mr. Velucci said after a moment. “I don't know whether or not you've ever seen this sort of thing before, Ms. McCoy, but in case you haven't... I have a form of cancer that began in my lungs.”

  “I'm so sorry,” she replied, “I... I didn't know.”

  “It's not something I choose to publicize.”

  She just managed to refrain from asking him how much time he had left. She knew that would have been a pretty insensitive question and, besides, something about the treatment set-up made her feel that this was a last-ditch attempt. After everything Mr. Velucci had said to her since her arrival at the villa, she was shocked to realize that perhaps – beneath all his optimism – this was a man who had very little time left.

  “You're shocked,” he said finally.

  “No!” she blurted out. “I mean...”

  Her voice trailed off again.

  “I'm sure you'll understand why I waited to show you,” he told her. “I wasn't sure how you might react.”

  “I get it,” she replied. “You don't need to... I mean, I'm sure you've got the best treatment possible. I'm sure you'll beat it in no time.”

  “Beat it?”

  “The cancer.”

  She waited, but he began to chuckle.

  “You remind me of the first doctors,” he told her finally. “They were full of promises about how we were going to beat my cancer. How we were going to eradicate it. They wanted to poison me, Ms. McCoy, in the hope that I could still be saved once the cancer was gone. I've seen such things before, of course. All my life I've seen people die, I've heard talk of how cancer is such a 'horrible disease'. The truth is, I -”

  Suddenly he started coughing, and after a moment he leaned forward slightly in his chair. For a moment it seemed as if he might be about to cough up his own lungs, but eventually he managed to pull himself together.

  “Do you want me to fetch someone?” Ruth asked.

  He shook his head as he tried to regather his composure.

  Ruth waited, not really sure what she should do or say next.

  “I've always been a contrarian at heart,” he continued after a few more seconds. “I don't like doing what I'm told. After my initial diagnosis, I looked into all the available options. Chemotherapy, radiation, holistic approaches, meditation. And do you know what I realized? All of those things shared one aspect in common. They were all focused on the idea of beating the cancer. And none of them offered very good odds. Finally I realized that I wanted to do the one thing that nobody else had thought to try.”

  He fell silent.

  “Um,” Ruth said finally, “so... I don't get it. What did you decide to try?”

  “These chemical are not entering my body to kill the cancer,” he replied, holding up his left hand so that she could better see the tube of white powder. “This is my way of feeding the cancer.”

  “Feeding it?”

  “Strengthening it. Encouraging it. Making it grow and spread faster.”

  “Why would you do that?” she asked.

  “Because it's alive. Think about it, Ms. McCoy. Why would the cancer want to kill me? I'm its host. If I die, it dies. So I got to wondering what would happen if I let the cancer thrive. What would be its final form?”

  “I'm not sure I understand,” she replied. “You want the cancer to grow?”

  “I want it to do more than grow,” he said, as he reaches up and began to unbuckle the front of his tunic. “I want it to thrive. I want it to fulfill its potential. I want it to have all the chances that I myself never had.”

  “You're talking about it like it's a...”

  She paused as she saw him opening the tunic, and as she realized that there seemed to be a thick cut running down the front of his chest. She opened her mouth to ask what was happening, but then the tunic opened even further and see saw that she was right: Mr. Velucci's chest had been cut from th
e collarbone all the way down past his navel, almost to his groin, and the edges of the opening were swollen and red.

  “I don't understand,” she said, taking a cautious step back. “What is this?”

  “It's the best part of me,” he explained, as he started slipping his fingertips into the gap between the slit's two sides. “It's my triumph.”

  And with that, he started slowly parting the edges of the slit. As he did so, Ruth's eyes widened with horror as she began to see something dark and glistening inside. Something dark and glistening and wriggling.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Fuck, my head feels bad,” Merrie said as she clambered out of bed and winced slightly in the midday light. “It's like something crawled in there and died.”

  She grabbed her phone and checked the time, and then she shuffled over to the door.

  “Wake up, Judy,” she muttered. “I'm taking the shower first, but when I'm done you should get in before Gemma and Kay. You know how long Gemma always takes.”

  She stopped in the doorway and turned to see that Judy hadn't stirred.

  “Lazy cow,” she said, reaching down and grabbing a flip-flop, then throwing it at her sister as she left the room. “Time to get up.”

  The flip-flop hit the side of Judy's face and bounced off. Merrie was already through in the bathroom, and a moment later the shower could be hearing switching on. Meanwhile, Judy had finally stopped shivering and had slipped into unconsciousness. Her eyes were shut and her skin was pale, and a faint, clear trail of slime was oozing from one corner of her mouth.

  ***

  “Do you guys just want to hit Apocalypse again tonight?” Gemma asked as she flicked through a magazine in the living room. “I know it might seem boring to go to the same club two nights in a row but, fuck, I feel like we barely even scratched the surface with that place.”

  “I don't even remember much about last night,” Kay admitted. “Did I throw up?”

  “I'm cool with going again,” Merrie replied, as she nibbled on a slice of toast and jam. “Last night was a reconnaissance mission. Tonight we know the layout, we can really take full advantage.”