Preston Child - The Fountain of Youth

“That’s Dr. Dittmar Cotswald, that,” she affirmed while Purdue stared.

“Great. But we aren’t here to free him. Pray to God that Nina is not in the same condition,” he reminded her. “Where is she, Mrs. Patterson?”

“When I was a little girl, Prof. Ebner used to experiment on me and my sister in here,” she struggled to say. Before Purdue could reply, she pulled a hidden lever and the wall shifted aside. Cautiously Purdue shone his light into the small tunnel, looking to his partner for encouragement.

“I wish there were a window here. The lightning would have helped much to navigate through here,” he whispered. Vaguely he could hear laughing, muffled by fabric or wood. Purdue was not a man of colorful imagination or ghostly affinity, but the prospect of what caused those sounds just creeped him out completely. “Well, we have the right weather for the kind of feelings I’m feeling.”

“Yes, I’m scared shitless too, deary,” the spirited old lady agreed. She clung to Purdue’s arm as they progressed and then whispered, “Okay, soon the room should be on your left.”

Purdue lit ahead and there it was, an entrance without any door. The hideous mumbling and laughing were coming from inside. As they drew closer they could perceive the sound of a machine humming while every now and then a beep would sound.

What Purdue saw when he turned the corner far surpassed any horror film he could place with the weather. His light fell on Nina, tied to a grotesque chair, her thigh seeping blood that pooled in a dry coppery mess on the chair. Her eyes had gone from bright and brown to bloodshot and milky, staring insanely at him. Pale blue from the cold chamber, her skin exhibited the dead paleness of a cadaver.

“Jesus Christ, no!” Purdue wept instantly, rushing to pluck the needle from her before it could take another ounce from her.

“No!” Mrs. Patterson yelled, grabbing his hand. “If you pull it out she will hemorrhage…”

“She is hemorrhaging now! ” he screamed at Mrs. Patterson, his wet eyes fuming and hopeless. “I can’t let her endure one more second!”

They did not hear Clara sneak up behind them. A thunderous shot echoed through the lower floor as she gunned down Mrs. Patterson. Purdue shouted and lunged forward to punch the gun-wielding woman right in the face. Her nose broke on impact and she fell to the ground, but she tried to shoot again. Purdue kicked the gun from her hand and scooped it up to put in his pocket. Crouching down next to her, he grabbed handful of her hair and hissed, “Get Nina free or I will bash your skull in right here.”

“I know you, right?” Nina slurred slowly at Purdue as Clara removed the gag before removing the needle from her thigh. Purdue sobbed, holding the diminished hand of his ex-girlfriend in his, afraid that it would grow limp while he warmed it.

“Yes, you know me,” he said, smiling through his tears.

Nina smiled weakly. “Aye. You’re Sam .”

Purdue swallowed hard. His heart broke again, but he had to make sure hers kept going. He growled at Clara. “Give her a transfusion! Put her blood back immediately!”

“I can’t do that,” Clara started to explain through collapsed nasal cavities, but Purdue dealt her a backhand that sent her reeling.

“Put her blood back!” he shouted, cradling Nina in his arms. “My God, you’re so thin,” he whispered as her boney body poked his skin. Mrs. Patterson groaned from the corner where she had collapsed.

“It’s too late,” Mrs. Patterson told Purdue. “Her organs are failing already.”

“No! I will fix her. Just give her blood for long enough and I will fix it all,” Purdue insisted, his voice twisting in desperation as he laid his face on Nina’s chest. There was barely any sign of a heartbeat. “I just need to get you to the Faroe Islands, Nina. They have water there that could cure you, give you back your health, and even keep you young! Just hold on,” he cried, “just long enough for me to get you to Sam. He’s waiting, do you hear? Sam is waiting for you.”

He lifted Nina’s small, limp body into his arms and ordered Clara to prepare the machine for transfusion. Mrs. Patterson, having been wounded in the leg, stood up and shoved Clara aside. “The least we can do is try, right?” she told Purdue. “I’m not promising anything, but if we can get a few more pints in she would be able to travel with you.”

“Mrs. Patterson, you are a goddess,” Purdue sniffed.

“I’m no doctor, but even nurses have a duty to provide medical help,” she replied. “Now, get hold of your people on the other side to have a doctor on stand-by at the airport.”

Purdue sat next to Nina, using his tablet to contact Sam while Mrs. Patterson attempted to save Nina with what she could find. She was performing her tasks in the very room where Prof. Ebner had subjected her and her sister to his sick experiments, but she did not care. While Purdue conversed hastily with his friend on the screen, Mrs. Patterson was doing a good job of administering the butterfly needle to Nina’s flimsy vein. She paid no attention to Clara, who was confined to the shower cubicle where Ebner used to bathe his daughters in pesticides.

“Where is he, Jeeves?” Lieutenant Campbell asked the butler.

“Excuse me, sir, but my name is Charles Amberson. Not Jeeves,” Charles corrected the investigator.

“Are you being a prick, Charles?” Campbell asked, sounding a lot like Charles’ old football pals.

“I believe I am introducing myself, sir,” he told Campbell.

“Christ, it’s like talking to Mr. Spock. Are you aware that you are obstructing justice by refusing the police access to this mansion?” the lieutenant growled at the front door of Wrichtishousis, where Charles was deterring his entry in the middle of the night.

“No sir,” Charles replied. “I am under no obligation to allow access without a warrant.”

Lieutenant Campbell realized that his usual intimidating manner was not going to fly this time. The butler was correct and the lieutenant knew that he would not get any help unless he used another approach. And he could freeze to death in the cold night air on top of it.

“Listen, Charles. I understand that you are only doing your job, but I have to impress upon you the ugly repercussions for your boss if he ditches us. All I ask is his whereabouts,” Campbell sighed.

“To arrest him?” Charles asked, secretly enjoying his power trip over the cop.

“I can’t arrest him yet. We don’t have enough evidence to bring him in, you see? You may as well tell me, because he’s being targeted by the very people who tried to kill him at the Sinclair Facility. Please, Charles, this is no bullshit. I need to know where David is because they already do. If I can’t send Interpol to his location, they’ll kill him and walk away,” the rugged lieutenant explained with no small measure of shameless pleading.

“Lieutenant Campbell, I will lose my job,” Charles persisted.

“Well, when they shoot your boss in the head you’ll be out of a job anyway,” Campbell said, shrugging. “It looks like you really have no choice, son. We’re both on David’s side. We have to save Nina Gould and we have to save him and we have to do it before they catch up to them, do you understand the weightiness of this issue?”

Charles sighed and mulled it over. He could feel Lily’s eyes burning into his back and he knew that she was easier to crack than he was.

Charles’ phone rang.

“Excuse me, sir,” he apologized, and answered the phone. It was Purdue.

“Sir, Lieutenant Campbell is here as we speak,” he reported with his back to the large investigator in the doorway. Still, Charles kept a keen eye on the unwelcome guest using the mirrors in the lobby. He kept his voice low, but he could tell that Campbell knew who he had on the line. Suddenly the butler looked utterly surprised. “Of course, sir. Please hold.”