“Tell me, Doctor Straus,” the wafer thin voice of Alexander sounded, cutting through the darkness and pushing the scent from Straus’s mind, “how long had you been arranging your response?”
“Alexander?” Straus answered, quickly twisting his body on the bed towards the origination of the voice. “Let me free. Now!”
“Again, tell me how long you had been arranging your response?”
“What are you talking about? What response?” Straus barked.
“Your response to the recent events that have unfolded.”
“I don’t know what you are referring to, but if you untie me, I am certain that you and I can reach an agreement that will make you, your father, and me happy.”
“My father only wanted money from you, Doctor Straus. Money from you and the rest of the doctors involved. In the end, it was his greed that consumed him. Burned him to the ground, I imagine. I myself have very little use for money, and I’m afraid that there is nothing else you can bring to any negotiating table, should you ever be present at one.”
“Alexander,” Straus said, then paused, “you need me. I can smell what’s going on with your body. You need me. My expertise is what I have as my bargaining chip.”
“You can smell me?” Alexander asked. “How bizarre.”
“That day at the lodge. The day you murdered Jacob Curtis and Peter Adams.”
“Please don’t forget about the stranger I murdered as well. He deserves to be remembered as much as the others.”
“Jacob Curtis was there to tell you news. Did he tell you what we had discovered?”
“I am afraid to say that the words got caught in his throat. But, please tell me, Doctor. I am curious.”
“Did he tell you that he had good news?”
“In fact, he did mention good news. He was almost giddy with excitement.”
“Untie me, and I will tell you,” Straus said, his authoritative voice discovered.
“I struggle to see the benefit of releasing your bonds, Doctor. I struggle.”
“Jacob Curtis did have good news, but that’s not all the news he had.”
“A mystery. How wonderful! Do tell, Doctor Straus.”
“Untie me,” he commanded.
“My struggle for a reason continues,” Alexander said.
Alexander moved from the hub into the bedroom where Straus was sitting. With him he carried a small, battery powered lantern. The fading glow offering its dying light in a small, irregular shape around Alexander. His face and hand were all that Straus could see, seemingly floating into the bedroom. The grayness of his complexion, accentuated by the cool light.
As Alexander entered the room, the smell became more potent. Straus drew a deep breath through his nose, smiled, then craned his neck to better see Alexander.
“You don’t smell it, do you?”
“You need first to identify what ‘it’ is that I should be smelling.”
“Untie me.”
“Tell me what it is that is giving you the confidence to utter commands.”
“The good news,” Straus continued without hesitation, “was that the last test we subjected you to proved, at last, to be successful. We injected your cells with a virus, the cure for which has avoided thousands of doctors around the world.”
“And that virus was?” Alexander said, then moved closer to Straus.
The smell began to overcome Straus. He covered his mouth and nose with his free hand as his eyes began to reflexively water.
“The HIV virus, Alexander. It was the virus that causes AIDS. I’m sure you’ve read about it during your studies.”
“I have. And the results of the test?”
“Your cells seem to provide an effective defense against the virus. In fact, the virus was killed so quickly when introduced to your cells that we had to run the test over several times to be certain. You, Alexander, are the cure to a worldwide epidemic.”
“How exciting,” Alexander said, his sarcasm practically spewing from his mouth. “And what of the other news?”
Straus sensed concern in Alexander’s voice and tone, though his facial expressions remained unchanged.
“Untie me, and I will tell you not only the other news, but I will also tell you how you can prevent your quickly approaching death.”
“Come come, Doctor. Your arrogance surprises even me.”
“Have you noticed that your senses are diminishing? The fact that you can’t even smell the odor your body is releasing should be a sign.”
“And how can you prove that a smell exists? Perhaps your clever mind is latching on to some imagined way to earn your release.”
“I can’t prove it,” Straus admitted. “But I don’t need to prove to you what will soon be evident. If, of course, my estimations are accurate. Tell me, have you noticed that you can’t smell things as easily as you were once able to?”
“And if I have noticed?”
“Jacob wasn’t going to tell you himself. He was waiting for me to arrive to deliver the rest of the news, but then you and your father interrupted things. Do you want to know the rest of the story, Alexander?”
“If only to satisfy my curiosity, yes.”
“The virus, though destroyed by your cells, has also made your cells dependent on it. Without the virus, your cells are decomposing at an alarming rate. Thus, the smell of decay that you carry around with you. The fact that you can’t smell it tells me that, as expected, your brain is rotting away. Slowly but surely, I promise you. However, when I discovered the rapidity at which the virus was breaking down your cells, I also discovered a simple cure.”
“And that would be?”
“Unknown to you and will remain so if you kill me. And based on just how horrible you smell, it will remain forever unknown unless you release me, now.”
The power of the blow Alexander delivered directly to Straus’s face, sent Straus’s head snapping back. His nose was crushed and several of Straus’s teeth were reduced to shards of bone. The blood and broken teeth poured into Straus’s throat, making him cough up a terrible mixture of red and white. He slumped to his side, twisting his left arm beneath him into a position that it was not designed for.
Before he could welcome unconsciousness, Straus felt the iron grip of Alexander’s hand grab his hair and pull his head straight. His body fell limp to his side, and only his head was held upright.