Tainted Cure (The Rememdium Series Book 1) by Ashley Fontainne Page B
Authors: Ashley Fontainne
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atone for his mistakes by creating the world’s most addictive drugs known to man. He is to arrive here without one hair out of place and the concoction he created in one piece. Can’t create an antidote unless we have the sickness. Understood?”
The voice on the other end of the line was cold, harsh. “As you wish, sir. Consider it done. I will contact you on the new number once everything is completed.”
The line went dead and Benito stared at the blank screen of his cell. He tore the phone apart and threw the remains into the fireplace. While he watched the plastic melt, he dreaded the next calls he needed to make. The other businessmen would be just as nervous and disturbed about the turn of events as Benito, for all of them knew the gravity of the situation if his contact inside the laboratory failed them.
Opening the drawer of the massive wooden desk, Benito extracted fifteen disposable phones. One by one, he made the calls to others in similar positions around the world, dropping the latest, unsettling news into their ears and then assuring them his next phone call would be full of good news.
STARTING OVER - Wednesday - December 16 th – 4:00 a.m.
The throbbing at the back of Everett’s head felt like someone running a jackhammer inside his skull. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of the sensory overload bombarding his mind. A weird, unfamiliar sound drummed in his head. It took several seconds for him to figure out the noise was the rhythmic hum of tires on the open road. Coupled with the motion of riding in a vehicle, the knowledge made his head spin. A vehicle? How? The lab was underground, and Everett didn’t recall leaving.
Then again, Everett couldn’t remember a thing after leaving Susan and the other test subjects in the meeting room.
What the hell is going on?
Nothing made sense, so he concluded he must be asleep in his quarters, dreaming.
He could hear someone speaking in quick yet hushed tones. The sound of the muffled, male voice seemed to be coming from all around him. He forced his mind to slow down and hone in on the words.
“Repeating…the White House has just confirmed First Lady Roxanne Thompson succumbed to ovarian cancer less than an hour ago. President Thompson will give a press conference at nine a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Our thoughts and condolences go out to the President and his daughter Melissa during this trying time, especially with Christmas less than a week away. As we’ve reported before, the first lady has been battling the disease for several months now and…”
Panic welled up inside Everett at the news report. He’d been keeping up with the first lady’s fight against cancer online when he had down time. Hearing the news report made his fuzzy brain aware he wasn’t dreaming. When Everett opened his burning eyes, he was greeted by darkness and a faint tinge of neon green not far away. Mind still on the fritz, it took him a few seconds to recognize the glow was from a dashboard.
“You’re awake? Oh, thank goodness! I was afraid you might have suffered permanent damage. You took a nasty blow to the head. Pretty sure you need stitches but I didn’t have time to patch you up. Too much was going on. Getting you to safety was my main priority.”
Everett felt a rush of relief at the familiar voice. He forced his body to move and sat upright in the seat. Reaching up, he felt the knot on the back of his head. The lump was the size of a walnut, and he could feel a two-inch gash. When he pulled his hand away, he felt the wetness and assumed it was blood on his fingertips. “Want to tell me what the hell is going on, Riverside?”
Daryl turned down the radio before responding. “Not sure where to even start, Dr. Berning. I’m still not quite sure myself.”
“Gee, that’s helpful. Okay, how about this: explain to me why it feels like someone whacked me with a two-by-four, and where we’re going. I’ll formulate more questions after you answer
The voice on the other end of the line was cold, harsh. “As you wish, sir. Consider it done. I will contact you on the new number once everything is completed.”
The line went dead and Benito stared at the blank screen of his cell. He tore the phone apart and threw the remains into the fireplace. While he watched the plastic melt, he dreaded the next calls he needed to make. The other businessmen would be just as nervous and disturbed about the turn of events as Benito, for all of them knew the gravity of the situation if his contact inside the laboratory failed them.
Opening the drawer of the massive wooden desk, Benito extracted fifteen disposable phones. One by one, he made the calls to others in similar positions around the world, dropping the latest, unsettling news into their ears and then assuring them his next phone call would be full of good news.
STARTING OVER - Wednesday - December 16 th – 4:00 a.m.
The throbbing at the back of Everett’s head felt like someone running a jackhammer inside his skull. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of the sensory overload bombarding his mind. A weird, unfamiliar sound drummed in his head. It took several seconds for him to figure out the noise was the rhythmic hum of tires on the open road. Coupled with the motion of riding in a vehicle, the knowledge made his head spin. A vehicle? How? The lab was underground, and Everett didn’t recall leaving.
Then again, Everett couldn’t remember a thing after leaving Susan and the other test subjects in the meeting room.
What the hell is going on?
Nothing made sense, so he concluded he must be asleep in his quarters, dreaming.
He could hear someone speaking in quick yet hushed tones. The sound of the muffled, male voice seemed to be coming from all around him. He forced his mind to slow down and hone in on the words.
“Repeating…the White House has just confirmed First Lady Roxanne Thompson succumbed to ovarian cancer less than an hour ago. President Thompson will give a press conference at nine a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Our thoughts and condolences go out to the President and his daughter Melissa during this trying time, especially with Christmas less than a week away. As we’ve reported before, the first lady has been battling the disease for several months now and…”
Panic welled up inside Everett at the news report. He’d been keeping up with the first lady’s fight against cancer online when he had down time. Hearing the news report made his fuzzy brain aware he wasn’t dreaming. When Everett opened his burning eyes, he was greeted by darkness and a faint tinge of neon green not far away. Mind still on the fritz, it took him a few seconds to recognize the glow was from a dashboard.
“You’re awake? Oh, thank goodness! I was afraid you might have suffered permanent damage. You took a nasty blow to the head. Pretty sure you need stitches but I didn’t have time to patch you up. Too much was going on. Getting you to safety was my main priority.”
Everett felt a rush of relief at the familiar voice. He forced his body to move and sat upright in the seat. Reaching up, he felt the knot on the back of his head. The lump was the size of a walnut, and he could feel a two-inch gash. When he pulled his hand away, he felt the wetness and assumed it was blood on his fingertips. “Want to tell me what the hell is going on, Riverside?”
Daryl turned down the radio before responding. “Not sure where to even start, Dr. Berning. I’m still not quite sure myself.”
“Gee, that’s helpful. Okay, how about this: explain to me why it feels like someone whacked me with a two-by-four, and where we’re going. I’ll formulate more questions after you answer
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