Robin Cook - Contagion

Jack was encouraged. Perhaps he had found Frazer Labs after all. But there was also something that disturbed him. A large, glass-fronted gun cabinet stood against the far partition. The man in the ski parka was not only interested in bacteria; he was also a gun enthusiast.

Moving quickly, Jack passed through the living room intent on locating the door to the stairwell. But as soon as he passed beyond the living room’s partition, he came to a stop. The entire rest of the large, multicolumned loft was occupied by a lab. The stainless-steel appliance he’d seen from the fire escape was similar to the walk-in incubator he’d seen in the General’s lab. In the far right-hand corner was a type III biosafety hood whose exhaust vented out the top of the sashed window.

Although Jack had suspected he’d find a private lab when he climbed through the window, the comprehensiveness of the one he’d discovered stunned him. He knew that such equipment was not cheap, and the combination living quarters/lab was unusual to say the least.

A generous commercial freezer caught Jack’s attention. Standing to the side were several large cylinders of compressed nitrogen. The freezer had been converted to using liquid nitrogen as its coolant, making it possible to take the interior temperature down into the minus-fifty-degree range.

Jack tried to open the freezer, but it was locked.

A muffled noise that resembled a bark caught Jack’s attention, and he looked up from the freezer. He heard it again. It came from the very back of the lab where there was a shed about twenty feet square. Jack walked closer to examine the odd structure. A vent duct exited from its rear and exhausted through the top of one of the rear windows.

Jack cracked the door. A feral odor drifted out as well as a few sharp barks. Opening the door farther, Jack saw the edges of metal cages. He flipped on a light. He saw a few dogs and cats, but for the most part the room was filled with rats and mice. The animals stared back at him blankly. A few dogs wagged their tails in hopeful anticipation.

Jack shut the door. In Jack’s mind the man in the parka was becoming some kind of fiendish microbiological devotee. Jack didn’t even want to think about what kind of experiments were in progress with the animals he’d discovered.

A sudden, distant high-pitched whine of electrical machinery made Jack’s heart skip a beat. He knew instantly what it was: the elevator!

With rapidly mounting panic, Jack frantically searched for the door to the hall. The spectacle of the lab had diverted his attention from locating it. It didn’t take long to find, but by the time Jack reached it, he feared the elevator would be nearing the fifth floor.

Jack’s initial thought had been to dash up the stairs to the roof and then exit the building after the man in the parka had entered his apartment. But now with the elevator fast approaching, Jack thought he’d be seen. That left exiting the apartment the way he’d entered. But when the elevator motor stopped and the metal doors clanged open, he knew there wasn’t time.

Jack had to hide quickly, preferably close to the door to the hall. About ten feet away was a blank door. Jack rushed to it and opened it: It was a bathroom. Jack jumped in and pulled the door closed behind him. He had to hope the man in the parka had other things on his mind than using the toilet or washing his hands.

Hardly had Jack shut the bathroom door than he heard keys turning the locks of the outer door. The man came in, locked the door after him, then walked briskly away. The sound of his footsteps receded, then disappeared.

For a second Jack hesitated. He gauged how much time he needed to get to the door to the hall and unlock it. Once he got to the stairs he felt confident he could outrun the man in the parka. With all his basketball playing, Jack was in better shape than most.

As quietly as possible, Jack opened the door. At first he only cracked it to be able to listen. Jack heard nothing. Slowly he opened the door further so that he could peer out.

From Jack’s vantage point he could see a large part of the lab. The man was not to be seen. Jack pushed the door open just enough to squeeze through. He eyed the door to the hall. There was a deadbolt a few inches above the knob.

Glancing around the lab once more, Jack slipped out of the bathroom and rushed silently over to the outer door. He grasped the knob with his left hand while his right hand went to the deadbolt. But there was an agonizing problem. The deadbolt had no knob. A key was required from both inside and out. Jack was locked in!

Panicked, Jack retreated to the bathroom. He felt desperate, like one of the poor animals penned in the makeshift shelter. His only hope was that the man in the parka would leave before using the bathroom. But it was not to be. After only a few agonizing minutes, the bathroom door was suddenly whisked open. The man, sans parka, started in but collided with Jack. Both men gasped.

Jack was about to say something clever when the man stepped back and slammed the door hard enough to bring down the shower curtain and rod.

Jack immediately went for the door handle for fear of being locked in. Putting his shoulder into it, Jack rammed the door. Unexpectedly the door opened without hindrance. Jack stumbled out of the bathroom, struggling to stay on his feet. Once he had his balance, his eyes darted around the loft. The man had disappeared.

Jack headed for the kitchen and the open window. He had no other choice. But he only made it as far as the living room. The man had also run there to snatch a large revolver out of a drawer in the coffee table. As Jack appeared, the man leveled the gun at him and told him to freeze.

Jack immediately complied. He even raised his hands. With such a large gun pointing at him, Jack wanted to be as cooperative as possible.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the man snarled. His hair fell across his forehead, making him snap his head back to keep it out of his eyes.

It was that gesture more than anything else that made Jack recognize the man. It was Richard, the head tech from the Manhattan General’s lab.

“Answer me!” Richard demanded.

Jack raised his hands higher, hoping the gesture might satisfy Richard, while his mind desperately sought some reasonable explanation of why he was there. But none came to mind. Under the circumstances Jack couldn’t even think of anything clever to say.

Jack kept his eyes riveted to the gun barrel, which had moved to within three feet of his nose. He noticed the tip trembled, suggesting that Richard was not only angry but also acutely agitated. In Jack’s mind such a combination was particularly dangerous.

“If you don’t answer me I’m going to shoot you right now,” Richard hissed.

“I’m a medical examiner,” Jack blurted out. “I’m investigating.”

“Bull!” Richard snapped. “Medical examiners don’t go busting into people’s apartments.”

“I didn’t break in,” Jack explained. “The window was open.”

“Shut up,” Richard said. “It’s all the same. You’re trespassing and meddling.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Couldn’t we just talk about this?”

“Were you the one who sent me that fake package?” Richard demanded.

“What package?” Jack asked innocently.

Richard’s eyes left Jack’s, and they swept down to Jack’s feet and then back up to his face. “You’ve even got on a fake deliveryman outfit. That took thought and effort.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack asked. “I dress like this all the time when I’m not at the morgue.”

“Bull!” Richard repeated. He pointed toward one of the couches with the gun. “Sit down!” he yelled.

“All right already,” Jack said. “You only have to ask nicely.” The initial shock was passing and his wits were returning. He sat where Richard indicated.