Terminal Read Online Free PDF

to get there and start treatment. It’s the first ray of hope since this nightmare started.”
    “When are you going?” Sean asked.
    “Sometime next week,” Helen said. “And you?”
    “I’ll be on the road the crack of dawn on Sunday. I should be there early Tuesday morning. I’ll be waiting for you.” Sean reached out and gripped Helen’s shoulder.
    Helen smiled, placing her hand over Sean’s.
    A FTER COMPLETING report, Janet returned to the seventh floor to look for Sean. Once again the nurses said he’d been there only moments earlier but apparently had disappeared. They suggested paging him, but Janet wanted to catch him off guard. Since it was now after four she thought the best place to find him would be Dr. Clifford Walsh’s lab. Dr. Walsh was Sean’s Ph.D. advisor.
    To get there, Janet had to leave the hospital, brace herself against the winter wind, walk partway down Longfellow Avenue, cross the medical school quadrangle, and climb to the third floor. Even before she opened the door to the lab, she knew she’d guessed correctly. She recognized Sean’s figure through the frosted glass. It was mostly the way he moved that was so familiar. He had surprising grace for such a stocky, muscular frame. There was no wasted motion. He went about his tasks quickly and efficiently.
    Entering the room, Janet closed the door behind her and hesitated. For a moment she enjoyed watching Sean. Besides Sean there were three other people busily working. A radio played classical music. There was no conversation.
    It was a rather dated and cluttered lab with soapstone-topped benches. The newest equipment were the computers and a series of desk-sized analyzers. Sean had described the subject of his Ph.D. thesis on several occasions, but Janet still wasn’t a hundred percent certain she understood it all. He was searching for specialized genes called oncogenes that had the capability of encouraging a cell to become cancerous. Sean had explained that the origins of oncogenes seemed to be from normal “cellular control” genes that certain types of viruses called retroviruses had a tendency to capture in order to stimulate viral production in future host cells.
    Janet had nodded at appropriate times during these explanations but had always found herself more interested by Sean’s enthusiasm than the subject matter. She also realized that she needed to do some more basic reading in the area of molecular genetics if she was to understand Sean’s particular area of research. Sean had a tendency to assume that she had more knowledge than she had, in a field where advances came at a dizzying pace.
    As Janet watched Sean from just inside the door, appreciating the V that his broad shoulders and narrow waist formed, she became curious about what he was currently doing. In sharp contrast to many other visits she’d made over the last two months, he wasn’t preparing one of the analyzers to run. Instead he seemed to be putting objects away and cleaning up.
    After watching for several minutes, expecting him to notice her, Janet stepped forward and stood right next to him. At five-six Janet was relatively tall, and since Sean was only five-nine, they could just about look each other in the eye, especially when Janet wore heels.
    “What may I ask are you doing?” Janet said suddenly.
    Sean jumped. His level of concentration had been so great he’d not sensed her presence.
    “Just cleaning up,” he said guiltily.
    Janet leaned forward and looked into his startlingly blue eyes. He returned her stare for a moment, then looked away.
    “Cleaning up?” Janet asked. Her eyes swept around the now pristine lab bench. “That’s a surprise.” Janet redirected her eyes at his face. “What’s going on here? This is the most immaculate your work area has ever been. Is there something you haven’t told me?”
    “No,” Sean said. Then he paused before adding, “Well, yes, there is. I’m taking a two-month research