Calypso Directive Read Online Free PDF

gone.”
    â€œMaybe it’s in that closet,” Rutgers said, pointing to an IKEA birchwood wardrobe. He walked over to the wardrobe, opened the doors, and tugged Will’s green army jacket off a hanger. “Is this it?”
    â€œYes. Give it to me.”
    â€œDude, this is sweet. I’ve been looking for one of these vintage army coats for-eva. Do you mind if I try it on?”
    â€œActually, I . . .”
    It was too late. Rutgers was already shrugging the coat onto his muscular shoulders. “It fits. Tell ya what. I’ll give you thirty euros for it.”
    Will shook his head. “Nah. I need that coat. It’s the only one I’ve got.”
    Rutgers looked at himself in the mirror and flipped the collar up. He winked at himself and pretended to fire a finger pistol at the guy in the mirror. “Okay, fifty euros and I’ll throw in my old J. Crew barn jacket. But that’s my final offer.”
    Will considered. He needed the money. With fifty euros, he could buy food, an international calling card, and maybe even a Eurorail pass. The army jacket was the only thing of value that he had to barter. Certainly, Rutgers had no interest in his blue, polka-dot hospital pants.
    â€œAll right, you have a deal.”
    Rutgers trotted over to his backpack, unzipped a pocket, and retrieved fifty euros in small bills and the barn jacket from the main compartment. He zipped the bag closed, threw the canvas jacket on Will’s cot, and slapped the cash into Will’s outstretched hand.
    â€œThanks. I just need to get my things from the pockets,” Will said, taking a step toward Rutgers.
    On hearing this, the kid immediately shoved both his hands into the coat pockets; Will heard the glass vials clink together.
    â€œCareful!”
    â€œDude, what do you have in here?” Rutgers asked as he jerked his hand out of the pocket. The vials were longer than the narrow splayed opening of the pocket, and one of the rubber stoppers snagged on the fabric.
    Will watched helplessly, jaw agape, as one of the glass vials slid from the kid’s grip and rotated end over end toward the ground. The vial struck the hardwood floor on the bottom glass curvature and exploded. Glass fragments and liquid rained over everything and everybody.
    â€œShit, dude. What was that?”
    â€œDon’t touch it!” Will yelled, but it was already too late. Rutgers had stepped away from the point of impact and was wiping his lower legs with his free hand. At the same time, Frankie was on his hands and knees collecting glass shards with his fingers and tossing them into a nearby waste bin.
    â€œBoth of you—STOP.” Will ordered. “Don’t touch the glass. I’ll clean it up. Now, please, carefully hand me the other vial. Then go wash yourselves with soap and hot water.”
    Rutgers and Frankie gave Will a strange look, but did as instructed. Will inspected the remaining glass tube, checking that the stopper was firmly in place. Next, he read the label: AAV-564: P-65 Transgene Trial 12 . That answered that question. The shattered vial was the one containing the cloudy liquid, with the Latin name he could not remember.
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    BY EIGHT O ’ CLOCK the next morning, Rutgers was coughing and sneezing, and Will was frantic. By eleven o’clock, the kid was moaning, spewing phlegm, and splayed out on his cot. Frankie was red faced and vomiting. Both of their foreheads were hot to the touch. Miss Sophie generously tended to them, bringing the boys cold drinks and wet towels, oblivious to the deadly truth. The vial of Yersinia pestis Will had stolen from Chiarek Norse contained a highly virulent strain of the bacteria. Both boys were infected with full-blown pneumonic plague, and their bodies were rapidly losing the war raging inside them. Will kept vigil in the room. What he was witnessing was familiar but made no sense to him.