“You’re a murderer. Of course, I have a differing perspective. Jesus. You are a prick.” I didn’t mean to give anything away, so as soon as I saw Thyssen’s eyes narrow in thought I caught myself and smoothly added, “Just like Harmon said.” He smirked.
“I would not have thought Harmon would turn so traitorous so quickly. The human psyche still baffles me. Physiology is more to my understanding.” With that, he turned and walked to a cooler with a clear glass door. Inside were several syringes and small glass vials.
“We know what happened,” I said, not wanting him to start poking us with his concoctions until we had a chance to extricate ourselves enough to defend against him. “I know what you did.”
Thyssen turned to me and I knew immediately that he could see the truth in my eyes. I waited. He turned to the soldiers, ordering them out, stating he would call if he needed them. Such arrogance. I knew a potential weapon when I saw one.
“You have my undivided attention, young lady,” Thyssen said, pulling a single metal stool over to face us. He sat and stared.
“You killed the entire world. You sent those people out, knowing that their immune systems were deteriorating. You should have known your serum was dangerous. You used people to test your little project and it cost the planet its population.”
I wanted to lead him and it was working. His emerald green eyes pierced into mine as if they were drilling for more information. I let him steep in the questions he had running around that big head of his. Come to think of it, Thyssen looked younger than I expected. Perhaps in his early forties. He would have been quite young when the pandemic struck. Why would the government have placed such trust and responsibility on a kid? It confounded me.
“What makes you think that I am responsible for the pandemic?” he asked. His manner was nonchalant. Such a lack of emotion only served to irk me, but I forced myself to stay on track.
“Your first serum was close to perfect, except that the nanobots attached themselves to the DNA of the subject and their immune system went into overdrive trying to kill the nanobots off. Smart little fuckers, though, weren’t they? Too smart. As a result, the very thing that was supposed to strengthen and support the immune system destroyed it entirely, instead. Caught you by surprise, huh?”
In my little box of clues and memories, my father had placed a letter explaining a good deal of this, giving pointers as to how I might find out more in libraries and newspapers and such. He was most likely just giving me information, keeping the truth of humanity’s fall open and available for future generations. My dad had a hell of a lot of faith in me. Still, I bet he never thought I would take it upon myself to go after the man responsible.
Thyssen leaned back on the stool, rubbing his upper lip back and forth with his forefinger. I knew I had stepped over the line. Now he would never let me leave this place alive. But, I was expecting more of a reaction. Not this apathetic display of not giving a shit.
“You’re very young,” he said. “Too young to have come up with this information on your own. You knew someone. Someone who knew the project and me. Who was it?”
“I’ve got a better question,” I said, making my next move. “Why on earth did you send those people out into the public — even with the arsenal of immunodeficiency drugs you gave them — knowing they were going to die?”
“I didn’t know they were going to die,” he replied. Looking into his eyes, I almost believed him. “I had no idea that the nanobots would react the way they did. The subjects were already dispersed across the country when I received some blood work that led me to believe I had made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Kel exclaimed. “You call genocide on a global scale a fucking mistake?”
“Yes, young man, I do.” Thyssen stood and kicked the metal stool across the tiled floor, sliding it neatly under one of the workbenches. “One I do not plan on making ever again. It’s about time I took my true place in history: not as a murderer, but as the savior of mankind. And, you two will be the first subjects to prove the validity of that boast.” He turned and walked toward the cooler full of syringes.
CHAPTER 7
When Thyssen turned his back to us, retrieving syringes of whatever new serum he wanted to try out, Kel looked over at me and then down to his hand. His knuckles had collapsed in on themselves significantly and he was sliding his right hand from the straps. He was either double-jointed or he had just dislocated his thumb. He reached over and quickly released the strap on my left hand and then went to work on his opposite one. I had just unbuckled the second strap and released my hands when Thyssen turned back to us, eyes widening as I stood up to face him.
“Sneaky little bastards,” he said, placing the two syringes down on the counter and walking toward us. “I’ve been looking forward to something like this for years.”
“What the fuck are you talking about,” I asked, moving into a fighting stance, ready to knock this guy on his ass. I felt, more than saw, Kel stand up behind me.
“Exercise,” Thyssen replied. He moved so fast that he nearly caught me off guard. As he closed with me, I stepped left, bent low and threw a serious blow to his torso. He huffed but recovered instantly. He was tougher than he looked.
Kel flowed into a karate stance and swept out a kick at Thyssen, who leapt above it and returned a kick directly into Kel’s face, knocking him cold with the single blow. I was on my own.
“You ready for me?” he asked, the arrogance and fervor spilling from his voice.
“Let’s see.”
Within the first few moves, I realized I was probably outmatched. Thyssen had had some serious martial arts training and he was fluid in his movements, both attack and defense. It was another aspect of this man that confounded me. He was scientist, but fluent in martial arts. He saw his actions that ended with the near-decimation of the human race little more than a mistake. I was doubly convinced that this man was dangerous and very likely insane.
My foot swept out making contact with his knee and he finally let out a sound of pain. So far it had only been grunts of exertion from the both of us. I focused on the knee without hesitation, getting in two more solid strikes before Thyssen connected with my cheek and I saw stars. He was not much larger than I was, perhaps a couple of inches taller. Still, his weight was behind the punch and I felt it do its damage.
I took a step back and he performed a limping leap forward, closing quickly and I realized too late that he had swept up one of the syringes in his hand and he brought it into my shoulder with enough might to push me to my knees.
Even as the syringe drained its contents into my system, Thyssen struck out with his left hand and I fell into unconsciousness like a rock into pond. Darkness fell over me and memories encased me, swirling through my mind’s eye, twisting and tumbling. I heard my Dad’s voice in my ears. I was six years old again.
“How could you have not known?” my father asked into the telephone. His voice was controlled, but from my hiding place behind the sofa I could feel the swell of anger beneath his words. “We’ve got six pinpointed locations of outbreak. Each one corresponds to the home city of one of your unauthorized test subjects. That is not a coincidence, Thyssen.”
I scrunched down further in the space between the sofa and the thick curtains of the living room window. I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but he had come into the living room already speaking on the cell phone, while I was playing with my G.I. Joes, pretending they were caught in an ambush behind the sofa.