Scott Nicholson - Liquid fear

The goggles were a little clumsy, since they were strapped to his head and added a little weight, but at least his hands were free.

The trio staggered around, blinking, at their most helpless. He’d calculated correctly that Wendy was the most vulnerable to Seethe and Alexis was the most coherent. Alexis had always been astute, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had figured out his pharmaceutical game of cat-and-mouse. But apparently the Seethe was more powerful than he’d imagined, or else she wasn’t as smart as he had hoped.

She fumbled for the pipe that Wendy had dropped, and Briggs wondered if she would turn first on the others or look for him. Roland, who should have been the most confused, had the presence of mind to drop to the floor and crawl along, patting the concrete in front of him to find the vial. Wendy Ah, Wendy.

Moving as silently as possible, Briggs eased along the massive sorting machine that assembly-line workers had once used to piece together motors. Chains clinked farther down the corridor, and he knew Kleingarten must have made his retreat. He’d instructed the man to wait an hour, and then turn the lights back on, but he certainly didn’t trust Kleingarten.

But there would be time for Kleingarten later. Right now, he had Wendy.

She had recovered a little, although she stood wobbling like a foal, blinking against the darkness. She was twenty feet away from the others, forgotten now even by her former husband.

Ah, Wendy. I have missed you.

He stood close enough to smell her. She’d shampooed with a chamomile-and-honey concoction, but it had been at least a day before, because animal sweat, tainted with a faint touch of the chemicals decomposing in her body, were her dominant odors. He didn’t mind, though. He rather liked it.

His nostrils flared as he indulged again. She turned, possibly sensing his presence, and he froze in place.

“Roland?” she said.

“Stay where you are, babe,” Roland said from twenty feet away. “All this junk around here, you might get hurt.”

She obeyed, just like she always did. Sure, she’d been Briggs’s second choice in the beginning, but she’d proven the sweetest selection because of the deeply suppressed eroticism and hunger she’d hidden even from herself. Her yearning and seeking had manifested as an artist’s passion in her waking life, but Seethe had peeled away the conscious layer and exposed the carnal creature inside. Alexis would have been too much trouble, and like any good researcher, Briggs knew all windows of opportunity were brief, and he would rather indulge than match interpersonal wits.

A successful predator always knows how to pick out the easy meat.

He knelt, hoping his knees didn’t pop, and he leaned closer, trying to smell the rest of her.

“Got ‘em,” Roland said, shaking the vial before slipping it into his pocket.

“I’m losing it over here,” Alexis said, still feeling along the floor for the pipe. Her fingers brushed it, and Briggs smiled as she brought it up with the barest scrape of metal on concrete.

“We can’t trust that bastard,” Roland said. “Every four hours, every fifteen minutes, once in a fucking lifetime. He’s just playing with us.”

“I need one,” Wendy said.

“Not yet,” Roland said. “We need to hold out as long as we can.”

“We don’t have long.” Alexis squeezed the pipe and, crouching, she moved toward Roland, trying to keep him talking. “All we have is now.”

“This isn’t some dipshit sixties song, Alexis,” Roland said. “This is life and death.”

“You ought to know about death, after what you did to Susan.”

Roland turned toward the sound of her voice, the gap between them narrowing. “I didn’t do anything to Susan. You were the leader, remember? Little Mrs. Briggs, right there pushing our buttons.”

Alexis raised the pipe and, with a screech, rushed toward him. Briggs watched through the night-vision goggles, six inches from Wendy.

Roland flinched at the cry and rolled to the side, but he wasn’t fast enough. The pipe bounced off his shoulder with a bruising thwack, and he grunted, “Fuck.”

“Lex! You okay?” Mark shouted from the far end of the factory.

Briggs smiled in the dark.

Ah, the hero to the rescue. But a kiss won’t wake this princess. No, this princess is ruling with an iron hand.

“Lex!” Mark repeated, more frantically. A stack of boxes fell over somewhere, sending a spray of small metal objects-lug nuts, rivets, ball bearings-across the floor.

Alexis swung the pipe back and forth, probably hoping to find Roland so she could deliver another blow. But Roland had learned his lesson and was keeping his mouth shut, now staggering down the corridor, his left arm hanging limp.

Briggs took the opportunity to grab Wendy’s wrist and tug her in the opposite direction.

“Roland?” she whispered.

“Shh.” He moved quickly, not giving her a chance to get oriented. He loved it when the monkeys were lost and confused.

Alexis banged her pipe against the hulk of a tractor frame, giving away her location. Mark would be able to find her, with a little time and patience. However, if the Seethe Briggs had dispensed through the ventilation system had done its job, Mark would have precious little of either. And surely Mark now understood the risk of exposing himself to a group of raving, murderous lunatics, but like fools throughout history, he was sticking his neck out for love and a senseless notion of duty.

Love. If only I could invent a drug for that, we’d truly have a crazy world.

“Where are we going?” Wendy whispered, as though understanding the need to be secretive. It sent a shiver of delight through Briggs. Just like old times.

What they shared wasn’t love, not exactly, but it was the best thing he’d ever had. And what man wouldn’t take advantage of such a situation?

“Shh.” He pulled her along, the goggles revealing the turns in the heaps of scrap iron, towering stacks of rubber tires, and old wooden crates. He knew the layout well enough that he could have navigated it in his sleep.

“It’s the Seethe!” Mark shouted from the far end of the facility. “It’s making us freak out.”

“Mark?” Alexis called, from one corridor over, though her voice echoed throughout the cavernous shell.

“Be careful!” Roland yelled. “She’s gone violent!”

“I’m not violent,” Alexis said, followed by the sound of scuffling feet. “Now give me those goddamned pills or I’ll bash your brains in.”

Upon hearing Roland call out, Wendy resisted Briggs’s pull. “Roland?” she whispered. “How can you be in two places at once?”

“Because he’s two people,” Briggs said. “And I’m the good Roland.”

Wendy wasn’t convinced, and she tried to pull away, digging her fingernails into the back of Briggs’s hand. He yanked her close and grabbed her hair, pulling her ear to his mouth. He didn’t need to be quiet, because the others were shouting, but he knew the power of a whisper.

“This was all for you, Wendy,” Briggs said. “We belong together. After CRO pays me off, we’ll go away. Bermuda, the Yucatan Peninsula, New Zealand. You name it.”

“No,” she moaned, still resisting.

“I can fix you,” he said, impatient now. “I have some Halcyon in my office.”

“Let me go,” she said, her body tensing as she strained to break free of his grip. He wrapped more of her long hair around his fingers and put his other hand around her throat.

“If you scream, I will hurt you very badly, and I don’t want to do that,” Briggs said. Yet.

She started to scream anyway, and he knew he’d miscalculated. More fear would only accelerate the effects of the Seethe, and she’d already crossed the line.