Fever (Flu) Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Maybe you’re trying to make a fool out of me. You and the rest of them!”
    “Why the hell would I do a thing like that!?” Blake yelled. He strode across the office, his face tight with anger. “You’re impossible!” he said to Johnson. “You were there, right outside the door. You saw it, just like everyone else.”
    “I’ll tell you what’s impossible; all of this,” Johnson said.
    He fiddled with his pen nervously. The pen slipped from his hand, colliding with the picture of his wife and kids, knocking it over. Johnson immediately righted the photo.
    “Well it happened. Bottom line,” Blake said. “And you have to—”
    “I have to do what?” Johnson cut in. “Report it to the funders?”
    “Yes,” came another voice. Both men looked in its direction.
    Ellis stood by the door to Johnson’s office. She wore clean scrubs. Her face was dry and sore from rubbing so hard with a cloth that the skin had peeled away. But she needed to get every trace of Alan Jenkins from her body. God knows, there was enough of the dead man left imprinted in her mind...
    “Damn it!” Johnson fumed, slamming his fist on the desk. He glared at Ellis. “Do you know how vital this contract is to us?”
    “Sir,” she began, coming through the door, “I hardly think that’s—”
    “All of our jobs are on the line here,” Johnson cut in.
    Ellis fixed him with a cold, hard stare, “This is a lot more serious than jobs,” she said. “We had a dead man walking around the room where his autopsy was held, for God’s sake!”
    “The cadaver was mobile, but we can’t be sure it was alive in any other sense,” Johnson countered.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Blake protested.
    But Johnson ignored the other man, rising up from his seat to confront Ellis. “You’re right,” he said. “It isn’t just our jobs we’re talking about; it’s much more serious than that. Each and every one of us will be dragged through the courts for this, hung drawn and quartered! Those of us lucky enough not to do jail will never work again.”
    Ellis felt her eyes water. She blinked, but Johnson had noticed. He drew closer to her, right up to her face. She could smell his sweat amongst the expensive aftershave; could see the short white chest hairs under his thick gold necklace.
    “What age are you?” he asked, and a faint smile crossed his lips. “Twenty? Twenty-one? Barely out of college, all excited about your new career in research.” He straightened, clicked his fingers. “A career that could be snuffed out like a fading match.”
    “Stop it,” Ellis said, pulling away.
    Her eyes were drawn to Johnson’s PC screen. She watched herself come into Room E21, searching for the scalpel and attacking Jenkins, hacking at the man’s throat until his head all but cut away from his body. She watched herself scream silently, the blood from the wounds she inflicted on Jenkins showering her, soaking her clothes, her skin, her hair.
    She looked to Blake, tears breaking across her face. Blake’s eyes lit up in anger. He lunged for Johnson, grabbing the older man by the collar.
    “No, Blake,” Ellis said. “Leave him! He isn’t worth it.”
    Blake released Johnson, turned away and leaned against the door. His shoulders were shaking, and Ellis could see that he was tired, emotional.
    She went to comfort him, but he resisted.
    “Blake, please—” she said but he opened the door and left.
    She looked back to Johnson. “I should have let him rip your head off.”
    “L-like you did to Mr Jenkins?” Johnson laughed, straightening his tie.
    Ellis seethed, went to follow Blake out of the office. “That’s right,” Johnson chided. “Run along after your boyfriend.”
    Ellis paused, looked back.
    “Yes, I know all about that,” Johnson said. “The sordid little affair you’re having.” He smiled piously. “Have you met Mrs Farrow?” he said, reaching again for the photo of his own family. “A very pleasant lady.