Deadly Research

Deadly Research

By: Victoria Haigh

I Got it! No, I couldn’t have. Well, could it be that easy? The Avera virus has taken the lives of millions of people. It was the next medical villain that came after cancer. Did I truly just find the cure for this disease? I keep going back and forth doubting myself yet finding no flaws in the work.

“Denise, I’m going home so I can look at the numbers again tomorrow with a fresh set of eyes,” I say to my lab partner as I grab my purse.

“Alrighty! You’ve been at this for days, so please go relax! I’ll see you tomorrow,” she kindly replied. Denise is a compassionate, older woman who helps make sure my brain doesn’t overheat when I am researching Avera. She’s worked here at the University of Technology, otherwise known as U of T, when the cure for cancer was found there.

It is a beautiful night for my walk home from work. I can see some stars peaking out from the city lights, and I hear some bird chirping in the distance. As I make my way home, I see a cop car outside of my building. The red, white, and blue lights blinking brightly, pierce the darkness of the street. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised there are cop cars all over the city. I get up to my 5th-floor apartment, and as soon as I open the door, there was a slight pause. Promptly my roommate dashed over to embrace me.

“Is this how we greet each other now? Nearly scaring each other half to death?” I say with a little chuckle. As soon as she dropped the hug, I look to the right and see a police officer taking notes in the corner of our kitchen.

“Brigette, someone broke in about an hour ago and stole our computers and iPads,” Alana said with an innocent tremble in her voice. Alana works at the University of Technology with me. She works in the hematology department, whereas I work specializing in Avera. This entire day has felt…off. First, I think I might have found the cure to one of the deadliest diseases and now all of our technology has been stolen from the apartment. Thank God I left my laptop with the cure results at the lab!

The police officers took both of our statements and left. At this point, it is nearly 11:30. How am I able to go to sleep now and relax with all of this on my mind? I grab a quick bite to eat and head to my bedroom. As I start to drift off I see my aunt. She had been taken nearly 2 years ago from Avera. I was there to see the worst of it. This is one of my most difficult memories to relive. I remember solemnness and fear flowing from my head out to the rest of my body. I can’t think about this anymore I want to go into a blissful sleep. I keep trying to dream of beaches and other happy family memories, but every time I get the horrific gory vision of my aunt out of my head, it comes right back.

BEEP! BEEP! DING!  It’s 6:45 and I need to get back to the lab. After being haunted all night by the memory of my aunt practically dying in my family’s arms, I have to find out if I found the cure for Avera. I walk to work since I live five blocks from the university and the rest of the day I sit at my desk. Sometimes, I get drowned in work to the point I forget what time it is. As I am strolling along, I notice a man behind me. He has an expensive cashmere coat over his black suit. He looks perfectly normal, however, he is walking too close that I no longer feel comfortable. Oh no, I think to myself as I see another large man lurk out from around the ally way to walk directly in front of me. Both men are dressed alike, dark clothes, very official looking, and “is that a gun?” No, no it can’t be I keep repeating trying to reassure myself. Finally, I get to the

U of T. That was probably one of the longest sketchiest walks to work I’ve had. I ride the elevator to the floor designated to my team, step off, and there is a set of cops in the lab. I look around and see 12 bullet holes in the glass that surrounds our section of the floor. I run to find my computer had been manually surged so I could not get into my computer. Nothing else had been tampered with other than my computer. Does someone know that I might have found the cure to Avera? No, of course not. I did not publish anything yet. An officer approaches me and says they theorize the perpetrators shot their way through the glass to get in, and then proceeded to surge my laptop, but they could not figure out a specific reason why. Should I bring up the men I saw earlier? No, they may have nothing to do with this for all I know they may be security staff here at the University. Since this was considered a traumatic experience, the Dean sent everyone home once all the statements were taken. I make a move toward the escalator to leave, but I can see the two men, from my journey to work, waiting outside. One talks on a watch, as if from a spy movie, while the other is on the phone. These men don’t seem like university security anymore. All I know is I have to be aware of these men and go home. As I leave the university, it is as if I walked into a military formation. As I embark toward the door, one man begins walking, and I exit with my head down. I feel concerned because now the second man filed in behind me. Normally my walks to the apartment are calm and relaxing, but that is not the case today. My gate is agilely yet quiet. I am finally about one block from my apartment and the man in front of me adjusted his coat, and I see it. It was a gun. The gun had a shiny silver handle which reflected the sunlight. I keep my head down and act as if I see nothing because I do not want to cause a panic or attract any attention. I arrive at my apartment, throw myself on to the couch, and let out a sigh of relief. Although I don’t have my computer anymore, everything is still backed-up onto my phone. I start looking through the numbers, data, and charts, and they begin to fill my mind. Soon enough I see it. I see the link. I did find the cure yesterday!

Abruptly, I hear three loud bangs on the apartment door. I slowly peer into the eye whole and see Denise.

“Hey Denise, you startled me, what’s going on?”

“Brigette, we need to talk, it is pertinent to our research,” she said with a somber voice. She breezes past me to put my record player on and scans the apartment before she sits down.

“Is Alana here?” Denise seriously asked.

“No, she wanted to run some errands after we were sent home, why?”

“I want to make sure we are alone.”

“What is going on?” I quickly interject.

“You know I was part of the university when they found a cure for cancer, right? Well, there’s something that has been kept a secret because it can put people’s lives at risk, so they don’t want anyone to find out. I am afraid it is happening again with your research.”

"You got my attention. Please get to the point, you are scaring me.”

“The world thinks we found the cure in 2055, but that’s not entirely true. I was Benjamin Hoffer’s assistant back then. Remember, he is the man who found the cure. Hmm, I remember the day quite boldly, like it was yesterday. It was March 24, 2034, the day he actually found the cure.”

“What! Why didn’t anyone know for another 21 years?” I passionately reply.

“The day he found the cure, men came into the office and surged his computer. Then he started saying these men in black started following him everywhere he went. People never believed Dr. Hoffer, so they would say he started to go crazy. One night, it was just Dr. Hoffer and me in the university and the men approached us. They said they were with the FODC, a medical company more powerful than ours. They then proceeded to say that if we released our research to the world before the marked date, May 22, 2055, they would kill us. Once I got home, I did more digging. I discovered that if Dr. Hoffer released his research sooner than May 22, 2055, the monstrosity medical companies would lose nearly half their money since the money was mostly coming in from all cancer patients. These men followed Dr. Hoffer with their guns every day until May 22, 2055.”

I don’t know what to say. I feel a rush of confusion, sadness, fear, and emotions I never felt before rush over me. Denise continues, “You’ve grown into a smart wonderful woman, I thought you should know for your own safety”

“Thank you," I quietly mumble.

That quickly, Denise gets up, turns my record player off, and lets herself out. I definitely can’t fall asleep tonight. Especially knowing I am alone. I decide to wait on the couch for Alana to come home. She eventually came back at about 5:30. Should I tell her what Denise told me? I don’t want to scare her, I’ll wait to say something.

“How did your errands go? Were you able to find what you wanted?” I ask to relieve some of the tension I feel.

“Yeah, I was able to get everything. It was great the stores were not too crowded, and there were wonderful sales happening,” she says with a wide grin across her face.

“Happy to hear it. I am going to try to get some rest, I’m just not feeling well. I am just glad to see you back home, safe,” saying this as cheerful as possible, but I fear my face probably does not look as joyful.

“Hope you feel better!” she loudly projects so I can hear down the short hall.

There is so much information circling through my head from earlier.  I make it through one half of the hallway before I hear the sound of glass shattering. I take off to my room and see my window broken into hundreds of pieces. I hear Alana sprint down the hall. She looks over my shoulder at my room. There is a dark red brick with a piece of paper lying on my bed. Slowly, I approach my bed, being careful not to step on any glass. The paper has writing on it which says:

Monet Clare warehouse tomorrow 7 pm. Do not be early or late.

“I am coming with you tomorrow!” Alana loudly insisted.

"No, no, I may not even go. Maybe I’ll just send the police,” I reply trying to brush this all off of my shoulder.

“You saw what they said, you have to go.”

She is right. These people already know where I live and work, so they would not have anyone far from me if I decided not to show up. Alana tenderly helps me clean the glass off of my floor and bedding. There is a quietness, calmness, yet unsettledness in the room. I want to say something to help clear the air, but no words come to mind. My room is clean, so I thank Alana for her help and go to bed. It is nearly 7 pm. Am I really going to meet these FODC men in the warehouse in 24 hours? Is this safe? Should I force Alana to stay home? What is the best idea? Should I look at a layout of the warehouse? I keep asking myself questions and eventually drift off to sleep.

 BING! DING! BING! I snooze my alarm because I slept terribly.

15 minutes later, BING! DING! BING! Aggressively I slam the snooze button again on my alarm.

Another 15 minutes go by and the alarm sounds. I guess I should just get up. Today’s ritual of getting ready is not mundane. I grab my to-go cup of coffee, from the kitchen, and leerily head out. Alana is also up and ready to go to work. Normally, she gets up at 8:30 nearly two hours later than I arise.

“Brigette, I am not leaving your side today.” She says sternly.

With my adrenaline already pumping, I try to convince myself that everything is going to okay.  My reply is simple, “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

“You are not only my roommate but my friend. We’ve known you for almost a decade, so your safety does actually mean something to me. You know that verse, doesn’t it go like, a real friend sticks closer than a brother?”

“Ah listen to you. Ok but if there is any sign of danger, you run away from the source and worry about calling for help and I will figure out my own plan, okay?”

“Deal.” She replies with a big smile considering the consequences.

As we walk to work, it is the normal formation with the FODC men. Alana leans over and asks if this has been going on every day, so I reply that we can talk later because I do not want the men to hear our conversation.

We arrive at work joined at the hip. Even though Alana works in a different ward at the university, she says she wants to stay with me. We work all day trying to act as normal as humanly possible. It is hard for me to not show some emotions, so it is extremely difficult for me to act my typical self in this situation. Denise is behaving in the same manner. She made it feel as if last night never happened. Lunch came and went rapidly. Now we just have to work until it is time to meet at the warehouse. The hours are dragging on. Each second feels like it is taking up more time. My analog watch says it is finally 6:00. We only have a half-hour before we have to leave for the warehouse. I want to break out crying, but I told Alana I would act “normal". I watch the minutes pass. Alana hesitantly walks over to me.

"It’s time. I don’t want to rush you.” Alana says gently and softly as if a humble child spoke.

“Let’s go. I am ready for this part to be over,” I reply with a frown and sigh so deep I could feel it in my stomach.

Fortunately, we get in the first taxi we hailed and tell the driver to go to Monte Clare Warehouse. I have heard of this destination before, but I have never been there. All I know is it’s a famous abandoned building that used to make shirts and dresses before it caught on fire in 1911. The ride was quicker than I imagined it would be. Oh no, are we going to be too early? I am starting to worry because the letter stated to be at the warehouse at 7 pm on the dot. Alana looks at me and sees worry written all over my face.

“Ok before we go in how about we hug and pray? I can see things soaring through your head, and I think you should relax more before we go in.”

I hug Alana. I feel a tear slip down my cheek. I do not like showing emotions, especially crying, in front of others. As she prays, I feel a flood of tears starting to form, but I force myself to hold back the river.

“I have no idea what we’re walking into so if you see any, any, sign of danger, you worry about getting yourself out of there!”

“Yes, Brigette we already talked about this,” she replies trying to reassure me.

We make our way towards the warehouse. Some of the bricks are falling out of the exterior walls, the paint is chipping, windows are cracked, and doors are missing. This building could not have anymore problems. I’m worried that as soon as we step foot inside, the warehouse is going to deteriorate right beneath our feet. Alana and I get to the steps, she leans over and says, “Don’t worry. We have God on our side. Also, I have a couple of friends on the police force inside surveying the building right now. If anything happens, they will have our back. Oh, and one more thing, my parents gifted this to me when I moved to the big city so I would have some form of protection,” she says pointing to her hip. I see a small gun tucked into her jeans. “Don’t worry it’s all legal. I have all the permits and background checks needed to own this.”

“You are full of surprises. Thank you for being here with me.”

“Of course,”

We proceed through the doors. All the lights are broken. I can barely see anything. The only light coming into the building is from the sunset shining through the dilapidated windows. I see movement of a dark figure. Is that one of Alana’s police friends? Is that a man with the AOC? Is it a third party I haven’t met yet? Alana must have seen it too because she whispers, “Don’t worry everything is going to work out.”

We keep shuffling through whichever path is easiest. The deeper into the warehouse we journey the darker it gets. We finally reach a point where I can no longer see what is in front of me. Alana and I pause since we feel unsettled. Well, I feel downright frightened for our lives.

BANG! I feel my heart begin to race and pound out of my chest. Was that a gun? I need to get out of here! Where did the bullet come from? Was it Alana? Did it come from the FODC men? The police? I still can’t see anything, it’s too dark. I am lost. I run as fast as I can trying to find the way we came in. I don’t know what hit me, or who hit me, but all I know is all of a sudden, I’m stuck in a black abyss.

Am I dead?

Am I simply knocked out?

Was I the one shot?

This section can be added if an ending is needed, if the story can end on a cliff hanger, this section doesn’t have to be added:

I hear what sounds like sirens. Is that the police? An ambulance? Wait this sound is familiar. I bolt up and realize I am back in my room. Drips of perspiration line my face. This was all a horrible nightmare. One thing is still certain, I have the cure for Avera.