Loud voices talked over, above and around him, like surround sound. Two, maybe three in total, he couldn’t be sure. Then there was movement, someone holding his arm by the wrist. Smatterings of words and phrases, partial sentences, briefly filled his ears before disappearing into a whirlpool of fading memories. Constant heat, temperature shifts and fluids were some words he recognised. All too soon the talking had gone, and he was left in the pitch black prison of a vacuum. Day or night, he couldn’t tell what hour of the day it was on the few occasions some kind of awareness returned to his mind. There was a sensation he did recall, the presence of a body against his, off and on, infrequent. Sometimes he felt surrounded by the softness of skin, warm and secure within the tender hold providing safety. He tried to rise once whilst being cocooned in this heat, and was sharply reminded to lay still and rest. He obeyed the instruction as though it had been spoken by a voice from heaven, an angel calling down from above, soothing his disturbed mind as the light touches gently stroked the aching pains coursing through his muscles. Or could all this be unreal and it was just his imagination deciding to play tricks with his mind?
At last, a ray of light appeared, brightening the gloom that had engulfed him for so long. Sounds of children playing nearby entered his head, the splashing and thrashing of water. Where was he? A shade of grey loomed overhead, hair with accompanying beard. Not Santa Claus, surely?
“You have returned from the dead,” spoke a man.
He tried to locate the voice, turning his head ever so gently to the right, and recognised the face.
“Marius?”
“Don’t be concerned,” said a woman.
“Don’t be concerned?” he said. “The man is set to become a mass murderer!”
“Hush,” said Maria, softly stroking his brow. “Lie back and rest. I asked Marius to help.”
“I’m telling you, he’s one of them.”
“I am a scientist, interested in the science, no more.”
“He’s lying.”
“Marius and I are old friends. We worked closely together, on viral research. He was the one person I knew to call that could help you.”
“Maria’s intellect was a tremendous loss to the scientific community when she opted for motherhood. A glittering career lay ahead of her.”
“What?”
“You had the good sense to select the one person in the world who could keep you alive until I arrived.”
“What?” he said again.
The initial shock passed and reason began to return, as did the array of senses he thought had been lost. Determined to rise they helped him to sit up in the bed.
“My head hurts.”
“Drink this,” said Maria, gently holding his head as the glass tumbler touched against his lips.
“Jesus. Haven’t I had enough alcohol?”
“It will help to flush out the system, rid your body of the poisons left by the antidote.”
“What?”
“You keep saying that,” said Maria.
He remembered.
“Antidote, that means I’m …”
“Would you rather be dead?”
Snatching the tumbler from her hand he lifted it to his mouth and the contents disappeared in a single swallow.
“Christ,” he coughed. “How the hell am I going to explain this away?”
“It is an increasing phenomenon in the West, particularly amongst the male of the species,” said Marius. “But at least there are no other side effects to your health.”
“They’ll kill you for helping me.”
“Unlikely,” said Marius.
“Why is it unlikely?”
“This conversation can wait for another time.”
“What?”
“My only concern at the moment is to help you make a full recovery. All else can wait until this has been achieved. Then we will have all the time we need to investigate events in more detail.”
“What?”
“Will you stop saying that,” said Maria.
“Where’s Rosa?”
“She has made a full recovery. Your prompt action saved her life. Her response to the antidote was swift.”
“How swift?” he asked.
“Within a day or so,” said Marius. “In your case however, recovery will be longer as the virus travelled further before I arrived. You will need to rest for many more days to come.”
“So where is she?”
“She has things to do. She did not say where or how long she would be gone.”
“Things to do?” he said. “I have to get up.”
“No,” they said in stereo. “You must rest.”
“I don’t have time.”
“You must take time,” said Marius. “The poison remains in your system so you must rest while the body fights to rid itself of the infection.”
“For how long?” he asked.
“Your strength will gradually return but your body needs time to rebuild.”
“I can’t wait for that.”
“You can and you must,” said Maria. “There will be no debate on this matter. I will not hear of it.”
Marius’ kindly eyes smiled down in support of Maria’s words, and to reassure him it was necessary. Matt took a deep breath and sighed.
“Now you are awake I can go,” said Marius. “I have left instructions with Maria. You must promise to follow them.”
He nodded reluctantly, sinking back against the bed as they retired from the room. He looked up at the white ceiling and then to the side where he glimpsed two pairs of bright eyes, peering from the edge of the bed.
“Are you better now, Matt?” asked a little voice.
“Yes, thank you Sophie. In another few days I will be able to get out of bed.”
“Does that mean you can come down and play in the pool with us?” asked Tessa.
“Not today,” said Maria, clapping her hands together as she reappeared through the doorway. “Go and join the boys and I will be down soon.”
The little bodies scuttled out of the room and she joined him on the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like a bear with a sore head.”
“It won’t last,” said Maria, touching at his brow. “You’re fever is beginning to weaken.”
“Thanks, I owe you.”
“No thanks are needed. Faced with a choice of helping you or with finding an explanation for the appearance of a dead man’s body outside my residence there was very little room for manoeuvre.”
She helped him to sit up and packed a fresh pillow behind his back.
“Has anyone tried to contact me while I’ve been laid up here?”
“No. Did you have anyone in particular in mind?”
“No,” he said wearily. “I just wondered.”
“Is there someone you wish me to call?”
“No,” he said after a pause. “No-one I can think of.”
“What about Gratia?”
“Not at the moment.”
The quizzical expression revealed her surprise. He looked down at the wildly disturbed bed sheets.
“What a mess.”
Maria rose from the bed and walked to the door, turning briefly to offer a faint smile.
“You had to be kept warm,” she said. “Rest and recover. It will be a long process.”
The dipping sun remained pleasantly warm. Warm enough for him to sit outside. Less than a day and he could barely feel his strength returning, Maria having to help him to the balcony overlooking the pool. The same page wouldn’t register, for the umpteenth time, concentration impossible. He wondered how swiftly the others had died, what was in their minds before finally perishing.
“What are you reading?”
Sliding onto the adjacent plastic chair the cover lifted to her eyes and she smiled.
“I didn’t enjoy it,” she said.
“Neither have I.”
“But you read it anyway?”
“A gift,” he said, drop
ping it to the ground.
“You have nearly finished. Don’t let me stop you.”
“I was hoping you’d interrupt me much earlier.”
“You should have said.”
“Didn’t want to disturb you,” he replied. “You’ve got your hands full with the children.”
“Yes, but it will be bedtime soon.”
He looked over and noticed her pensive face, an expression riddled with hesitancy, as though charged to break bad news to a patient. The one where the operation went according to plan, but …
“An unusual choice, using your only supply of the antidote on Rosa,” she said.
“I owed her. She’s saved my life more times than I care to think about. Besides, she has something to live for.”
“And you don’t?”
Some questions he was happy to answer. This one fell into the other category.
“Gratia has not called.”
“She doesn’t know I’m here.”
A careless remark and one he instantly regretted, arousing her natural feminine instinct to want to know more.
“You’ve been here for several days and been unable to contact her. Does she not worry?”
“Gratia’s rediscovered corporate life it appears, the perks and benefits of the high life. Doubtless she’s busy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I blame myself. The signs were there I just didn’t take the time to read them. Karma,” he said.
“That’s the second time you’ve used that word.”
“Really, when was the first?”
She shook her head and briefly smiled, the pensive mood soon resurfacing.
“I found something, a photograph, came across it when I was going through John’s possessions,” she said. “Would you like to see it?”
“Sure.”
Maria returned within a few minutes, a standard sized piece of card loitering in her hands. He watched her fingers roll it around seemingly unable to release it from the safety of her ownership.
“Perhaps it would be better for you not to see it,” she said.
“Is it important?”
Her lips twitched in nervous anxiety.
“I’m not sure.”
“Why not let me take a peek and I’ll tell you.”
A wavering hand pushed the sunglasses on to the crown of her head.
“You might not enjoy what it reveals.”
Whether intended or not, she had his undivided attention. Stretching out an arm he smiled fondly.
“Please,” he said.
A few more twirls of the object followed before she leant over and surrendered it to him. He held an easy going smile to demonstrate his lack of concern, succeeding it with a long sip of the orange drink by his side.
“Thanks,” he said.
The grinning face of Maria’s husband occupied the centre of the photographic image, looking as if it had been taken at the top of a piste. His arms rested over the shoulders of two skiing companions. To his right was the figure of a man Matt recognised, the late Johannes Schafen, the Chief Operating Officer of Schafen Industries. To Tillman’s left was a woman, Johannes’ ultimate successor Gratia Fuchs.
“It is a surprise,” said Maria.
All manner of words came to mind, every one unrepeatable with the children so near. Gratia smiled with the others at the camera, her arm wrapped firmly around the waist of John Tillman.
“It was her scent I recognised,” said Maria. “The courage to search did not come easy.”
She could have said anything. The words went in one ear and out the next without stopping to say hello. He felt numb and cold, bitter too. Realising he needed to be alone Maria left him to see to the children. He couldn’t feel the cold drops of orange liquid spill onto his leg from the receptacle trembling in his hand. He couldn’t feel anything.
Evening lay in the early grip of night, darkness bar the glare of artificial lights from the bedroom behind. The tumbler sat empty, unused for the better part of an hour, and his mouth felt like an arid wasteland inside.
“Matt, would you like a refill?”
Head moved before brain engaged. An automatic response to a question he hadn’t heard. She soon reappeared with the essential items and reoccupied her favoured seat. The thought of conversation was beyond him.
“It hurts, when they lie,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Harder for you knowing Gratia is still alive.”
“Sounds about right,” he said.
“Was I wrong to show you the photograph?”
“No. I’m pleased you did.”
A lull descended, thankfully undemanding. The images on the photograph refused to fade.
“I’ll go,” she said, starting to rise, and his hand shot across the narrow gap between them and held her arm.
“Stay,” he said. “We can talk if you want to.”
“As long as you are going to be okay,” she said.
“I am young, strong and will recover. According to some people anyway,” he said.
“And will you?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Deliberate sips at their drinks were conducted in tandem, like synchronised swimmers in an Olympic event. Then they settled back into silence, the quiet room of their lonely minds, windows shut and doors locked to deter the intrusions of the rest of the world.
“We used to sit on the porch at night huddled underneath a blanket looking at the stars, a routine I thought she enjoyed,” he said unexpectedly.
“With John it was a warm log fire, after the children were put to bed. As time passed I wondered if it was only me, the more he stayed away.”
“We’re a strange breed, humans. Constantly talking yet never seeming able to communicate, grief stricken at the plight of others yet unable to rouse ourselves to do any more than take the easy option. Perhaps mankind deserves its fate.”
She met his static gaze with an uneven smile, eyes dripped in caution, and he wondered what she was thinking. Thoughts of the like he couldn’t begin to understand no doubt. A sudden cold shiver made him tremble unexpectedly and she reached to touch lightly at his arm, frowning at the contact. She stood, towering over him with an open hand.
“I can take the blood sample later,” she said.
The hand hung, suspended in invitation. Common sense and decency dictated he politely decline, on the grounds of inappropriate and unreasonable behaviour on his part. That it would be entirely wrong for him to take advantage of a lonely woman.
“I really don’t think I can.”
“If we are to speed your rehabilitation then we must keep to Marius’ instruction. That was all which was on offer,” she said with a knowing smile.
Eyes slammed tightly shut, as if this would somehow block out the sense of self ridicule. It wasn’t just his body that was having difficulty with co-ordination.
“I’m sorry. I thought …”
“You think too much,” she said.
Driven by an apparent independent will, his hand slipped into hers and she led him into the bedroom, only for him to stop suddenly.
“What does this involve exactly?” he asked.
“The same as has happened for the last week.”
Mind confused by the comment he followed obediently, led by the hand into the room he had believed his own. She released her hold as they entered and moved to one side of the bed, depositing her drink on the adjoining set of drawers. He felt eerily calm as the retaining clasp loosened and her top fell away, swiftly followed by the withdrawal of her remaining attire. He expected coyness at the unveiling of her physique, signs of timidity. There was none. She stood proud and bold in response to his obvious hesitancy. Perspiration eked from his brow as the shivering took hold and she knelt on the bed and shuffled over to his side, taking the glass from his hand and placing it to one side. The buttons popped open, one by one, and the shirt slipped from his shoulders. Her expert hands smoothed the shorts off his waist and
down his legs. A sweep of her arm and the sheet peeled back, her hand tugging him urgently down.
“Come, there is not much time,” she said.
The trembling escalated, perspiration converting to furious sweat, and he dropped to the bed.
“What’s happening to me?”
“Hush,” he heard her say. “Your body seeks to discharge the toxins trapped inside.”
Energy seeped from the pores of his skin as she unfurled his body to wrap him in her arms and he fell gratefully into the womanly embrace.
“Has …this …happened … every night?”
“Hush,” she said again. “Rest easy and try to sleep.”
Groans escaped his mouth as the blood in his veins turned to lava. Muscles twitched independently of the processes of his mind and he felt as though the skin was being peeled from his body.
“What’s …happening?”
“Be calm, try and be calm,” she soothed.
Body at war with mind he would have screamed if he was able. All he could do was to shake violently and she tightened her hold to nurture him through the process.
“Maria … hold me … hold me.”
“I have you,” she said. “I have you.”
He saw the darkness coming, but could do nothing to avoid its approach.
“Jesus … Jesus!”
Chapter Twenty Eight
Hot Rain