The Eden Plague

They came in from time to time in their hazmat suits and took blood or saliva swabs. They did biopsies of his liver and other organs with painful needles; they cut him and watched him heal. Each time he spoke to them, calling them by name if he could, trying to make them see him as human. Eventually they put a leather gag in his mouth.

The promised tortures hadn’t yet materialized; he suspected Jenkins had bigger fish to fry. Daniel just had to make it through day to day.

They had been kind enough, if that was the word, to re-break his bones and straighten him out. They used no anesthetic and they recorded the whole procedure, hooking him up to electrodes and machines. At least they fed him then.

Daniel lay back down, but had a hard time sleeping. Because he was awake, through the thick walls he heard the rattle of bullets ricocheting like marbles in a bathtub, the muffled thuds, the thump of something hitting his locked door, the yelling and screaming faint through the soundproofing. He sat up in bed, waiting for whatever came.

The door swung open abruptly, revealing a tall, thin figure, backlit so Daniel couldn’t see his face, but he knew the posture and the man’s way of moving.

“Have you come to kill me, Skull?”

The cadaverous avenger stepped into the room but left the light off. An MP5 submachine-gun with a long suppressor rested in his hand.

“I ought to. It’s your fault Zeke is dead.”

“How do you figure?”

“If you’d just have gone with them, if you’d never run and asked for Zeke’s help, none of this would have happened.”

“It’s because of me he was alive at all. I put him back together on a Kandahar mountainside, and I killed fourteen Taliban at close range doing it. Maybe ten other guys in the world could have done that, and I paid for it later. I didn’t kill him, Skull. But if it eases your pain, then shoot me now. I’m ready.”

“I’m not going to shoot you. I’d have done that back in the cave if I was going to. Do you have a death wish? Why are you even here? You could have just sent the stuff around the world and escaped. Why did you get yourself captured?”

“Because it seemed like the right thing to do.”

Skull snorted in disbelief.

“Okay, how’s this. Maybe I didn’t want to put all my eggs in one basket. Maybe I wanted to distract them from the real plan, let them think they’d won. Maybe I wanted to provoke them to rash action, which I did. Maybe I deserve to be punished. I did murder Jenkins, and I brought on the death of a couple hundred thousand Angelinos. Maybe the people that have been experimenting on me need to see the truth, despite the lies. Or maybe the world needs a martyr, a symbol to rally around.”

“You really are full of yourself, aren’t you? God damn you and your martyrdom and your symbolism and your sainthood,” Skull snarled. “What’s with people like you? You don’t live in the real world.”

“I live in the world of ideas, because that’s what changes the world.”

“Oh, you make me sick. Get up and come with me. I’m not going to let them win even if you want them to.”

Daniel smiled gently. “The old me would tell you to go to hell, take that weapon from you and do what I promised the last time you had me at gunpoint. The new me…just says no. I’m not coming with you. The new me isn’t afraid anymore. It doesn’t mean I’m a saint. It just means I consider myself already dead, so you can’t scare me. Nobody can. And that scares you.”

Skull cursed him then, words to wound and hurt, but Daniel was beyond the sticks and stones. He wished he could help Skull. He wished Skull would accept the gift, and surrender all that pain and hate and anger. But for some people, that pain and hate and anger is who they are, is all they are, and they can’t give that up.

Skull turned and went away muttering, defeated by Daniel’s refusal to be intimidated. He didn’t kill him, so on some level he must have known Daniel was right.

Daniel understood. He forgave. He was glad, because it meant Skull had a conscience after all.

He was also glad Skull left the door open. Perhaps if he’d been stronger he could have stayed, but Daniel found that given the way out, and the cost of staying, he wasn’t strong enough to remain to be tortured and dissected. Maybe that’s what was supposed to happen. Maybe staying would be the coward’s way out after all. Maybe he had more work to do.

He followed Skull out at a distance, past a sad trail of bodies. It grieved him to see Skull’s killing rage, but as Spooky had once told him, no man can live in another man’s heart.

-29-

Elise looked at her watch, dimly visible in the glow of the hangar’s Exit sign. She glanced for the dozenth time at David Markis. His rejuvenated body had settled in at its optimum physical age, and now he looked for all the world as if he was Daniel’s brother instead of his father. He shook his head at her, shrugged as if he knew what she was thinking.

Pacing up and down, she exchanged quiet greetings with Larry and the dozen others that were still with them. She knew many of the Bunker group had simply flown to Buenos Aires on their own passports. Before he died, Vi

A half hour later the elder Markis finally spoke up. “We can’t stay much longer. It’s almost dawn, and someone is going to notice us stealing this plane and call the authorities. And we don’t want to have to sneak across the border in daylight. I doubt the Air Force is going to respect Mexican sovereignty if they decide to shoot us down. We have to go.”

Everyone was looking at her. As if I can decide this, she thought. But I am his wife. They want my blessing. They want me to let him go, to absolve them of responsibility. Well, all right. They may still make it. Two highly trained men by themselves might be able to slip across the borders. These people here – civilians, women and children – I can’t risk their freedom for one man.

Even if he is my husband, my heart, my life.

She nodded to David. “You’re right. Come on, let’s go.”

Immediately David Markis clapped his hands. “All right, you heard the lady, load up.” The stairs were already down on the twin-engine turboprop and the people took their places quietly. Elise sat down in the frontmost passenger cabin seat. She ran her hand over the fabric of the cushion next to her, wishing things were different. Wishing he was there.

Larry hit the button that opened the hangar, then ran to shut the fuselage door and take the copilot position. Engines whined to life and David taxied out onto the ramp, turning eastward toward the downwind end of the runway.

As the plane swung through one hundred eighty degrees she heard an exhalation and an exclamation from the cockpit.

“What is it?” she heard David say. “Are we blown?” He pushed the throttles forward and the engines picked up speed.

“I don’t know,” replied Larry. “It’s just one vehicle. No lights. Slow down, man. The Feds wouldn’t come in like this. They’d be all guns blazing and shit. It has to be them!”

David throttled back, but did not brake the plane. The aircraft and the SUV approached each other on opposite courses, the truck speeding down the runway much faster than the turboprop, heading directly toward it.

At the last second it slewed sideways and two men bailed out, waving frantically. David Markis slammed the throttles back to idle, feathered the props and hit the brakes as wild cheering broke out among the passengers.

Elise couldn’t hold back the tears as Spooky and Daniel climbed aboard. Her husband threw himself into her arms and held on as if he’d never let her go. And he won’t, not if I have anything to say about it, she resolved.