Ken McClure - Trauma

Tyndall seemed embarrassed and lost for words.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, it’s not as if it’s the first time, is it?”

“What do you mean?” demanded Tyndall.

“John McKirrop,” said Sarah. “And John Main, and Derek Logan, you killed them all, didn’t you? You came back to the hospital that night after I phoned you and pushed McKirrop’s skull back into his brain. And later on, when Logan knew too much and Main found the lab, you disposed of them too.”

“McKirrop was a no-account tramp,” said Tyndall. “He’d probably have, drunk himself to death within a year anyway. As for Main and Logan, we couldn’t allow them to get away either. Don’t you understand? This work is far too important to let anything get in the way. The Herpes vaccine is only the beginning. We’re on the threshold of being able to fight viruses at molecular level! We’re talking about an end to disease!”

Sarah and Lafferty did not reply.

“We’re wasting time,” said Sotillo. “Lock them in here until the bays are ready for them.”

As Sotillo and Tyndall turned away, Lafferty threw himself across the room in a last-ditch attempt to fight his way out. He knew that the odds against him were hopeless, but he felt he owed it to Sarah and himself to try. Sotillo and Tyndall were surprised at the sudden rush but Mace, the attendant who had remained while Pallister went to organise the bays, was obviously prepared for it. As Lafferty lunged forward he simply stepped aside like a matador dealing with a clumsy bull and hammered his fist into the side of Lafferty’s head. Lafferty went down and lay still on the floor.

“No more silliness, please,” said Sotillo, looking down at Lafferty’s prostrate form.

Lafferty came round to find Sarah pushing heavy boxes against the door. He sat up slowly and asked what she was doing. Sarah jerked her head round and said, “Good. You’ve come round. Are you all right?”

“I think so,” said Lafferty, confused by the activity.

“Can you help me?” asked Sarah.

Lafferty got to his feet unsteadily and rubbed the side of his head. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked haltingly.

“I’m barricading the door,” replied Sarah. “I’ve decided I’m not going to go meekly like a lamb to the slaughter. I want to hold on to life as long as possible. I think we should put up a fight; what do you say?”

Sarah didn’t wait for an answer, and Lafferty watched her manoeuvre one of the life-support machines into position with a determination he found compelling. There seemed to be no point in emphasising the hopelessness of their position. He turned to look at the space above Mary’s bed where the machine had been. “You disconnected it?” he asked.

“Mary doesn’t need it. She’s dead,” replied Sarah. “We do. Come on. Lend a hand. Bring the other power-pack over.”

Lafferty did as he was bid. He was still puzzled, but it felt a whole lot better to be doing something rather than just sitting around. He shook off the last of his drowsiness and got to work. He pulled out the remaining heavy boxes from below the bed, carefully avoiding the glass waste-tank, and found that they were full of spares for the life-support machines: diaphragms, filters and pump-bodies. He dragged them one at a time across the floor and started adding them to the barrier. When he had stacked the last of them in position, Sarah took a step back to look at the barricade. She screwed up her face. “There’s not going to he enough weight.” she said anxiously.

Lafferty joined her and had to agree. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Wedges!” He pulled some of the plastic tubing from the tube ports on the machines and started pushing it into the crack along the bottom of the door.

“Good thinking,” said Sarah, but her voice still betrayed doubts.

“What about the bed itself?” asked Lafferty when he’d finished.

Sarah looked round and nodded. “I’ll move Mary.” She tore away the plastic bubble from over the bed and used it to wrap Mary O’Donnell’s body.

“I still don’t understand what happened to her,” said Lafferty as he watched.

“The new vaccine didn’t work on Mary,” said Sarah. “It had the complete opposite effect to that intended. It left her without any protection at all. So, when they came to challenge her with an injection of live virus it simply rampaged through her body.”

“But that might happen to other people too,” said Lafferty.

“Precisely.” agreed Sarah. “That’s what Sotillo and Tyndall were arguing about, Sotillo wanted to dismiss Mary’s case as a chance in a million happening. Tyndall had cold feet; he wanted to withdraw the vaccine.”

“I see,” said Lafferty as he stepped in to lift Mary’s body gently from the bed and lay it on the floor. As he did so, a deep sigh came from her throat and Lafferty almost dropped her.

“It wasn’t real,” said Sarah, quickly putting her hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “Just trapped air in her lungs.”

Lafferty nodded nervously and joined Sarah in pulling the bed across the floor. They propped it up against the door as they heard sounds outside it.

The door moved in a little as someone tried to open it, but the wedges held without allowing too much strain to fall on their barricade.

Another attempt was made to open it before Sotillo realised what had happened and banged on the door.

“What is the point of this, you stupid people?” he demanded. “You can’t escape!”

Neither Lafferty nor Sarah replied. Both of them were concentrating on keeping their weight against the bed-frame.

Sarah inclined her head to look at her watch. Lafferty didn’t ask why, although he did wonder. He couldn’t imagine anything less important in their current circumstances than what time it was. A tremendous crash at the door put the thought out of his head as Pallister and Mace took a running charge at it together. The door jerked open a few inches before the wedges and the weight of the barricade stopped it.

As Lafferty applied his full weight in an attempt to close it again, he saw either Pallister’s or Mace’s hand come through the gap and try to get some purchase on the edge of the door. He had a box of pump spares lying at his feet and, picking up one of the heavier components, a round, chromium-plated pump-body, he smashed it across the invading fingers. A yelp of pain was followed by a quick withdrawal of the hand. Lafferty and Sarah managed to close the door again, but the wedges had been displaced. Lafferty dropped down on his knees quickly to push them back into place. He was squeezing the last one into the crack when a vicious kick to the door caused it to move back an inch or two and caught his forefinger in the gap along the bottom. The skin was torn back from the base of his nail and it was his turn to cry out in pain. He got to his feet with his injured finger in his mouth and kicked the last wedge into place with his shoe.

“Are you all right?” asked Sarah anxiously.

“I’m OK,” replied Lafferty, briefly taking his finger out of his mouth to spit out blood.

“Get some tools!” shouted Sotillo outside the door.

There was a lull in the proceedings while either Mace or Pallister or both went off to find tools; then Sotillo spoke. “Why don’t you stop this foolishness? You know there’s no escape. Why don’t you just accept your fate and make it easy on yourselves? There will be no pain or suffering, I promise. A simple injection of a neurotoxic chemical and it will all be over. You won’t feel anything.”

Sarah whispered to Lafferty, “Personally, I don’t fancy a simple injection of a neurotoxic chemical. Do you?”