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Brooks’ face looked pale. “I don’t think I’ll be much longer either.”
Chapter 7
Jack’s excitement slowed his wristwatch. The journey back home felt like hours. A twenty-minute stop-and-go trip on the subway to central city and a ten-minute bus ride returned him to Greely Park. He walked the rest of the way, down the sidewalk of Center Avenue and cursed at the afternoon traffic. He darted between the cars, crossing the street with a choir of car horns blaring behind him. I’ve got to get back to my desk and write this stuff down. Jack ran up the steps of his apartment building and hurried down the main hall, where he was interrupted by a neighbor.
“Hi-yah, Jack!”
Jack slowed his pace to greet his friend, Marty. The old man scrambled down the hall to catch up. Marty’s ruffled brow could have made a nest for a small animal and his purplish bottom lip swallowed the top. Jack knew something weighed on Marty’s mind.
“Haven’t seen you in a few days, Marty,” said Jack. “Where’ve you been?”
As eager as Jack was to start writing, he couldn’t ignore the lonely old man who deeply suffered with Malady. Marty’s sickness proved much farther along than Jack’s. In his patchy state of mind, Marty preferred to live in the building’s laundry room. There, he set up a lean-to of sheets, clothesline and baskets, leaving the camp only to eat at Donna’s diner across the street.
Marty chuckled at Jack’s question. “You know where I live. If you ain’t seen me, you ain’t been doing your wash. But, hey, I’ve been looking for yah.”
“What’s going on?”
“You got a delivery. A big box.”
“Must be my meds. That’s odd; the nurse said the next shipment wasn’t until Thursday? It’s only Wednesday afternoon.”
“It arrived by courier direct from Sable District,” explained Marty. “Fancy.”
“Where is it?”
“I’ve been keeping it safe for yah.” Marty gave Jack a proud, toothless grin. “Making sure none of the nutcases living here take it.”
Jack gave Marty’s shoulder an appreciative squeeze. “Thank you, my friend. There should be plenty of Quell in the box. Would you like some?”
Marty frowned. “My worm’s living happy in my head, Jack. Won’t help me much to justify taking it from you. Keep it. You’re young, got years left to enjoy. Come get the box when you can. I ain’t carrying it up to your place.”
“I’ll be down later. I’ve got to get to work now.”
“Oh!” Marty broke out in a clumsy dance, as if something important struck his brain. “I saw Donna this morning on her way out, she said she’d bring me a muffin later! They’ve got those really big ones over there. Blueberry, o’course.”
“Donna’s the best, isn’t she? I’ll see you in a little while, Marty.”
Marty danced away, whistling a happy tune. Jack watched the old man’s demeanor suddenly shift. His shoulders caved and he tip-toed. Marty glanced back; paranoia darkened his eyes. He slipped back into his laundry room burrow. A chill trickled down Jack’s spine. He shook his head in empathy, briefly wondering if his own Malady would eventually render him so irrational. He pushed aside the thought and ascended the winding stairwell to his floor.
Old Man Marty, that’s all the other tenants knew him as. It wasn’t fair, not to Jack at least. He remembered Marty before the parasite infected him. In those days, almost ten years ago, people called him Martin Jasper, Landlord and owner of several tenements up and down the block. Martin Jasper was loved by families throughout central Karma because his buildings were maintained, his rent was fair and he cared for his tenants as if they were his own family. He even ran errands for them. Bringing groceries to the elderly, walking kids home from school, and paying unemployed fathers to maintain his properties were just a few of his simpler gestures.
It was Martin Jasper who welcomed Jack into the building, setting aside a lofty apartment with a view of the cityscape just for him. “Writers need scenic views,” said Martin when he handed Jack the keys to the apartment. “Unfortunately, I’m fresh out of the scenic part, but hey, a view is a view, right?” Jack recalled laughing with him as they stood on his small balcony gazing out at the surrounding slums. Jack always appreciated the extras that this genuine man extended, but now he was the only one who did.
When Martin contracted Malady, he signed up for Quell. But he distributed his allotments of the medication to the families living in his buildings. This kept people well enough to stay hopeful and because of his selflessness, Greely Park remained a place of peace. Because of his love for others, he shouldered the pain of the parasite and suffered, withered and eventually wasted away to a shriveled creature of a man living in a dirty laundry room. Old Man Marty. Marty the Mad. Malady Marty. Jack often wondered what people would call him.
The traffic blurred outside Jack’s window. Busy out there today. Jack shrugged and sat at his desk. He placed the message from Crimm on his blotter and read the strange word repeatedly, hoping to decipher its meaning. Malad-X. What were you up to, Crimm? What does this mean?
A woman’s scream broke his contemplation. Donna!
He dashed out of his apartment and spiraled down the stairs to the first-floor hall. Donna screamed again and Jack’s heart sank when she crawled from the laundry room, her clothing torn and her hair thrown. Marty pounced on top of her with a knife poised like a scorpion’s stinger. “Where’s my muffin? I want my damn muffin!”
Donna screamed for Jack. He ran down the hall and barreled into Marty, knocking him off Donna. The knife cut Jack’s side, tearing his shirt and slicing through his denim jacket.
Marty growled as Jack pinned him to the ground. “She said I’d get a big muffin. Blueberry!” Marty writhed under Jack’s weight. For a man so old, his crazed strength was frightening.
“Jack!” yelled Donna. “We need to get help! Let’s go!”
Marty frothed and snapped a bite at Jack’s arm. Jack pulled back and struck the old man hard in the face. Marty went limp and Jack released him, hurrying to Donna’s side. He wrapped her in his arms. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “He jumped me, Jack. As I fell, he clawed at my clothes, shouting that I was ‘hiding it.’” Her voice wavered as tears formed rivers on her cheeks. “Oh, Jack. I thought he was going to kill me.”
“I will if that’s what it takes!” Marty squealed. He crawled toward them. Jack pulled Donna down the hall and out the front door. They ran down the steps, stopping at the busy street. Cars whirred by. Marty burst out of the building, knife in hand. Donna screamed in terror and ran into the street. Cars screeched and swerved.
“Donna!” Jack shouted, “Wait!” The traffic screeched around him as he sprinted for her. He dove to close the distance, knocking her to the adjacent sidewalk seconds before a Karma City bus struck them both down. Marty was not so fortunate. Jack cringed when the bus’s grill smashed into the old man and the heavy wheels crunched over his friend. The bus labored to a halt as blood pooled under the mangled body.
As the afternoon sun dipped away, the shadows of the surrounding tenements wheeled over the neighborhood. Jack comforted Donna on the curbside and couldn’t help but think it hauntingly poetic that the buildings Marty once kept would be like the blade of a sundial—sweeping that black arrow of darkness and death in an arc too great for any man to evade.
Jack’s heart burned with anger and fear—anger for Malady taking another good person and fear that he, himself, might end up this way. He sighed and caressed Donna’s hair as she sobbed against him.
***
Night fell over Karma City bringing with it a blanket of storm clouds. Luna Briggs looked up at the black sky. Thunder storm on the way. Gonna rain soon. Rain is good. It cleanses. I’ve always like the rain. She considered the task ahead. Karma’s Red-Light District sounded like a very dangerous place. Sexual indiscretion and rampant drug usage always lead to a concentration of Malady infected. She’d be sure to interact with as few people as po
ssible. Do the job and get out.
Albert drove the ambulance under a large railway overpass. The Iron Tribe’s tracks stretched across a long trestle looming over Karma’s two-block network of brothels, night clubs and smoke parlors. Red-bulb streetlamps lined the sidewalks, painting the brick buildings and illuminating the underbelly of the train bridge in a sultry, rosy glow. Albert drove slowly down the street, weaving around the crowds of patrons and prostitutes that meandered about. Luna eyed the women strolling up and down the avenue in knee-high boots, tight skirts and low-cut tops. She found their lavish hair styles, gaudy jewelry and glitzy make-up bewildering and strangely enchanting. Somewhere far in her mind, she wondered what she would look like dressed in sexual finery. She felt cold fingers touching her face, her scarring, and she realized they were her own. I’ll never be attractive in the way a man desires. It’s not who I am. Her eyes settled on Jameson, who intently assessed the throngs of people crowding the street. What does he think of me? Does he see in me what I see in him? Does he feel what I feel?
Jameson’s words startled her. “Every person here is a threat to your health. If you don’t want to catch Malady, keep focused on the objective.”
The bright lights of Mr. Gabriel’s luxurious adult resort, Eden, came into view. The estate beckoned patrons with dazzling pearly lights, sparkling fountain and an extravagant rose garden. Albert pulled the ambulance to a halt outside Eden’s iron gates.
“It’s time to get to work,” Jameson clapped his hands and excitedly rubbed them together. “Here’s the plan. Albert will enter through the front and pose as a representative from Oasis Hospital sent to conduct a health audit. That’s sure to get the attention of the staff and they’ll believe it with the Oasis ambulance parked in view. While Albert’s got them distracted, Luna, you and I will infiltrate the private offices and obtain the data from their computer system.”
“I’m not much of a hacker.”
“I know. So just pop the hard drive from the biggest computer you can find and we’ll go from there.”
Luna smiled. “Can do.”
Jameson loaded his shotgun. “Let’s hit them!”
“Hold on,” Albert interjected. “Non-member guests are required to pay admission. I think I have a coupon from last time...where is it...”
Jameson laughed. “Doc, you are full of surprises.”
Luna sighed and rubbed the corners of her eyes. “Let’s not forget about Gemni. If he’s looking to turn Malady people into his obedient troops against mankind, then this place is another huge spot for recruiting. Stay vigilant.”
From the ambulance, Luna observed as Albert engaged the Eden gatekeepers in a short conversation. The guards permitted his entry.
Jameson turned to Luna with shotgun in hand. “Ready?”
Luna took up her rifle and slung her pack over her shoulder. “Yep.”
They ducked out of the ambulance’s rear doors and moved down the street, away from the resort’s guarded gates. Jameson led Luna down a footpath along the iron fence, ducking under low hanging tree branches and slipping through growths of knotted vines. The two followed the perimeter of the property, hardly making a sound, until they came to the resort’s back courtyard. Jameson stopped and knelt beside the tall fence. He dropped his backpack to the ground and pulled out a hacksaw. “We’ll be inside in two minutes.”
Luna scanned the area with her scope while Jameson’s saw chewed through the bars.
“How are we looking out there?” he asked.
Luna slowly eyed Eden’s interior grounds. “We’ll be entering into a rose garden. There are guests hanging around the center fountain but I don’t see any guards near the building.”
Jameson pulled the bars away from the fence and placed them on the ground without a sound. “We should be able to wedge through now.”
The guests paid no attention as the two hurried across the garden patio. They came to the fountain. Rose bushes circled the marble basin and crystalline jets of water trickled in twisting streams. An unusual scent tinged the sweet perfume of the roses.
“We’ve got to cover up,” Jameson ordered. Once more, he went into his pack, this time pulling out two green handkerchiefs. “The air is dangerous. Put this on.”
Luna covered her nose and mouth with the rag. “Don’t like roses?”
“It’s the Lovers’ Claw I’m not a fan of. Look.” Jameson pointed at the fountain’s rim. Emerging from the water stretched a vine bearing hook-shaped leaves and tiny yellow buds. He tore the plant loose. “This baby’s scent is a potent aphrodisiac. Makes sense that this Mr. Gabriel guy has them growing all over his pleasure palace.”
“What makes it so dangerous?”
“Too much for too long will knock you into a state of loopy euphoria.” He coiled the length of vine, removed the fragrant buds, and stuffed it in his back pack. “This plant is like Eden’s prostitutes, beautiful but nasty.”
“If it’s so risky, why are you taking it with you?” Luna asked.
“It’s useful in other ways. When I was in the Void Lands, I used to use it to incapacitate my enemies. Burn up the vine and its smoke will knock a room of people unconscious in seconds. Might come in handy.” He hooked the bag over his shoulder. “Come on. Albert won’t be able to keep the charade going for long.”
Jameson and Luna entered the resort, shoving through Eden’s guests. People wandered the halls and foyers wearing only robes and slippers. Exotic women, nude, tanned and oiled danced between clusters of guests, wrapping silken veils over their shoulders, luring them to the large pillows lining the floor.
Luna followed Jameson down the halls, passing rooms filled with groups engaged in sex and drugs. Music lulled and stirred the atmosphere, setting a cadence of sensual rhythms. Elaborate candelabra lit the halls with a flickering orange glow that turned the perfect, bronzed bodies of Eden’s concubines to gold.
Luna felt her cheeks flush with heat. Living the tribal life, rolling over the railways with little human interaction beyond stations and depots, Luna struggled to stay grounded in this carnal hurricane. She was not like these harlots, but she was still a woman with desires. As she moved through the resort, she wondered what Jameson saw. Does he like these women? What does he see in me? What’s beautiful to him?
She passed an empty room. Berry-sweet incense smoked and a bed of pillows wrapped in silky sheets lay clean and empty. She imagined closing the door, trapping Jameson inside with her. The sheets looked soft and her mind played a game of contrast. The delicate bedding, cool and gentle; his hands on her body, fiery and rough.
Their exploration led to a stairwell. Luna pointed with her rifle barrel. “There’s a door down there. Let’s see where it leads.”
She shuffled down the steps and stopped at the door. A small sign read: SECURITY OFFICE. She kicked open the doorway and ran down the hall. Jameson followed behind with shotgun in hand. They stopped abruptly when two security guards entered, walking in their direction. Luna side-stepped, pressing her back against the wall to hide behind two pillars. Jameson did the same on the opposing edge of the hall and readied the butt of his shotgun. When the guards came within reach, Jameson and Luna spun out from their hiding places, and smashed the guards in the face with their gunstocks. The men fell to the ground, blood streaming from their noses.
“Check them, Luna.”
Luna patted the uniform pockets of one of the men and discovered a security room access card. “This is too easy.”
“I agree.”
The security office waited at the end of the hall. Luna swiped the card through the reader and the door buzzed open. With weapons poised, they entered.
“Stop right there!”
Five guards stood behind a half-circle counter and held them with pistols ready to fire. Jameson put away his shotgun and winked at Luna. She knew to trust that wink. It had gotten them out of many heavy jams in the past. She lowered her rifle.
“Easy, boys!” Jameson said with a chuckle. “We hurri
ed down here to warn you.”
“Warn us? Who are you?”
“We’re bounty hunters and we’ve been trailing a thief throughout Karma. The man we’re after is cunning and dangerous. He seeks sensitive information from successful men like Mr. Gabriel and drags his victims through rounds of black mail. He’s here, in Eden, right now. See for yourself!” Jameson pointed to the security monitors. “In the main lobby, you’ll find a man dressed like a doctor.”
The guards viewed the monitors. “Yes, I see him,” said one of them. “What is he after?”
Jameson continued the ploy. “His goal is to steal your main computer; you know, the one with all of Mr. Gabriel’s client files?”
As Luna had hoped, one of the guards briefly looked away. She traced his glance to the computer terminal on the far left. That’s the one. Too easy!
“Let me see some credentials,” challenged the guard, “before we shoot you full of holes.”
“Right, no problem,” replied Jameson. “My partner has our identification in her pack. Will you permit her to get it?”
“Make it quick.”
Jameson silently mouthed the word ‘boom.’ Luna opened her pack, reached inside and quietly pulled the pin from a grenade. With a smile, she flashed the explosive for the guards to see and tossed it behind their counter. They panicked and Jameson pulled Luna out of the office. The two slid across the tiled floor on their stomachs.
The grenade erupted, deafening and devastating.
The walls cracked and the door blew from its frame in shards. Smoke and burning wood littered the hall.
Luna laughed. “That gig never gets old.”
Jameson helped her up. “Let’s hurry. That blast is sure to have spoiled Albert’s act. Let’s salvage what remains of the computer and get out of here.”
“We can’t go back the way we came now.”
“Got any more grenades?” Jameson asked.
“Yep. Shall we make a back door?”
“Another gig that always works!”
Luna pulled the drive from the ruined computer and stuffed it in her pack. Her second grenade punched a hole in the building’s foundation wall. The fiery detonation spewed forth bricks and ash across Eden’s flowery front yard. Jameson and Luna emerged and sprinted across the estate grounds. Luna heard the screaming begin as the pleasure palace’s alarms sounded.