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“That’s right! She said she was testing it on patient nine, but he wasn’t supposed to die. So she tweaked the formula—which is what Kyle got.”
Dr. Nikas passed the marker to Reg and began preparing test tubes and solutions. “The non-tranq factors in the gel analysis are more mysterious, but your description of their purpose—to destroy higher brain function and create a mindless slave—brought the pieces together for me.” He sent Reg to fetch a cold pack. “She created the LZ-1 patients as her test subjects. The formulation of the gel was tailored for LZ-1, so your interception of that packet has not only delivered to me what I believe to be the key to a cure, but also strips the veil from the misinformation Kristi had fed me.”
Holy shit. The psycho woman created a killer epidemic not only to figure out how to be immortal, but to enslave zombies as well. “Whoa. Do you think the killer tranq in Connor’s ear was the first serum test?”
He went still, considering. “It fits. There were non-tranq factors in the earwax sample as well. I do believe the purpose was to experiment, with murder as the result.”
“And she was stringing you along on the cure?”
“Whenever I would get close to what I now believe is the right path, she would counter with a perfectly reasonable alternative. A detour rather than a roadblock.” He took a small cold pack from Reg and placed it in the bottom of a beaker. “But I’m close to the answer, now, Angel.” He handed me a test tube. “Will you give me a saliva sample?”
“Yes! Yes you can have all the spit you want!” I hocked up a loogie and spat it into the vial Dr. Nikas handed me.
He grimaced as he passed me another tube. “Saliva only, please.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I dutifully worked up a mouthful of only spit—mmm, fried dill pickles, seafood gumbo, braaaaains—and filled the tube.
He set the tube into the beaker as if my spit was the most precious liquid in the world, then turned back to the whiteboard and snapped out instructions. Reg leaped to follow them, his tall, angular form moving with surprising speed and agility.
A soft smile pulled at my mouth. Kyle’s death had served his own purpose, yet he’d not only saved my life by letting the tranq hit him instead of me, but his selfless act would end up saving the lives of Nick and so many others. Kristi couldn’t help but gloat to me, and in doing so, told me the effects of the serum.
Rachel had taken Dr. Nikas’s place beside Portia, and Pierce was on the phone. Brian was gone.
But I knew why he’d left and where he was now.
I slipped out of the lab and down the hall. As I approached the corner, I heard a deep male voice.
“No, there’s no one else you need to worry about. Agent Aberdeen is the only serious injury.”
I stepped around the corner to see a square-jawed man in a dark suit standing beside Sorsha, while two paramedics tended to her injuries. One of them cast a dubious glance at the blood in the corridor—Kyle’s and Fritz’s—but apparently didn’t feel there was any point arguing with the agent.
Agent Square Jaw pierced me with a measuring look as I approached. I ignored his appraisal and glanced into the microscope room as I passed. A fire blanket had been placed over what was left of Fritz, and all four techs sat zip-tied against one wall. At the far end was Reno, who sported a busted lip and a second black eye that I suspected were courtesy of Kyle.
“Agent Gallagher,” Sorsha said. “This is Angel Crawford. She has been most instrumental in dealing with the situation here.”
Gallagher gave me a curt nod. “Your assistance is greatly appreciated.” His words were clipped and precise, as if he’d said them thousands of times before. He looked back at Sorsha. “And Dr. Charish?”
“Billy will brief you,” she said. “The situation has taken an interesting turn.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think Dr. Charish has had a change of heart.” Literally.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” Sorsha said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with and kept quiet . . . a weird outcome.”
“Good to hear.” I gestured toward the microscope room. “What about Reno and the techs and how much they know about, well, everything.” I couldn’t exactly come out and say zombies in front of the paramedics.
“My supervisor has a way of ensuring discretion.”
I gulped and lowered my voice. “This isn’t a deal where they just . . . disappear, is it?”
“Nothing of the sort. They’ll simply be disinclined to speak about the issue of concern.” She spoke as if it was a matter of fact.
Okaaaaaaay then. “Would you excuse me a moment?” I walked away without waiting for an answer then quietly entered the histology room, closing the door behind me.
Brian was on one knee beside Kyle’s supine body. A blood-soaked lab coat had been wrapped around Kyle’s head, to my relief. The exit wound for a shot like that would be gruesome. That wasn’t how I wanted to remember him, and I was glad Brian seemed to feel the same way. This was his zombie baby—despite the turning being without Kyle’s consent.
I put my hand on Brian’s shoulder. He covered it with his own and gave it a light squeeze.
“You okay?” I asked.
