Syndrome - Thomas Hoover (best summer books .TXT) 📗
- Author: Thomas Hoover
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Book online «Syndrome - Thomas Hoover (best summer books .TXT) 📗». Author Thomas Hoover
She felt her dizziness coming and going, but she was determined to stay awake and in control of what was being done to her.
“By the way, I was wondering how is Katherine Starr doing?”
His eyes grew somber. “She’s a very lucky woman, considering. We’ve given her some coagulants and stitched her up.”
“Are you going to press charges?”
He looked at her strangely. “Do you think we should?”
“I guess it’s none of my business.” Of course you won’t, she told herself. The Kristen matter will not stand the ordinary light of day, let alone a police investigation.
“Maybe it’s time to let her daughter come and see her.”
“I looked at that letter,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone. “I suspect it’s a hoax. And a very cruel one at that.”
“I don’t think so. I talked to her today. The woman formerly known as Kristen. On the phone.” She stared at him. “I really think it’s time I learned more about what happened to her here at the institute. All I could really find out was that she thinks she’s experienced some pretty dramatic memory loss.”
He looked as though this information was new to him. He also looked startled. “You spoke to her? What… did she say? Is she all right?”
“No, she’s not all right.” Don’t mention the kidnapping she told herself. Play dumb and see how he behaves. “I want to know what happened to her when she was here.”
He paused, then took a deep breath. “I told you everything I know this morning. She was a very troubled young person. Her treatment seemed to be going well, but she couldn’t accept that. She began to believe there was some kind of conspiracy against her. In a word, she became completely paranoid.”
Well, Ally thought, there’s “paranoid” and then there are times when somebody really is out to get you. So which was it in Kristen’s case?
She glanced over at Stone, who appeared to be trying to act as though he didn’t know what on earth she was talking about. But she could see him efficiently taking mental notes.
“When you can’t remember who you are,” she said turning back to Van de Vliet, “and then someone who does know who you are gives you a new, fake identity, I think it’s enough to justify paranoia.”
He was rolling the wheelchair toward the elevator but abruptly paused “Is that what she’s claiming? Good God I told you she was paranoid and that should demonstrate it better than anything. Letting her discharge herself and leave the program, to go off unsupervised was a truly bad idea, but nothing short of physical restraint could have stopped her.”
“And do you have any idea where she is now?” Ally asked.
“I told you… Look, if I knew her whereabouts, don’t you think I’d do everything I could to contact her, find out how she is?”
“Right.”
She reached out and took Stone’s hand as they all moved onto the elevator. She could sense his excitement at finally being inside the Dorian Institute, but at that moment her concentration was drifting and she felt as though she were slowly beginning to drown in a sea of white.
“Stone, please don’t leave me. Don’t let me out of your sight. Something funny is happening and I don’t know what it is.”
Van de Vliet bent over. “Alexa, look at me. I want to see your eyes. I think they may be dilating.” He waved a hand across her face. “Can you see me?”
“It’s the fluorescent lights,” she mumbled “There’s too much glare. Could someone please turn them down? I think that’s what’s wrong. They’re giving me a headache.”
“Ally,” Stone said, “the lights are not very bright in here. We’re going down in an elevator. There aren’t any fluorescents.”
Then the elevator chimed and the door opened. They were in the basement now, where the research lab and the office and the examination rooms were. Debra, wearing a white lab coat, was standing there silently looking at her.
Now there really were fluorescent lights, and she turned away and tried to shield her eyes.
“God, turn them off. It’s so painful. It’s like they’re shining into the back of my skull.”
“She’s started hallucinating,” Van de Vliet whispered to Debra. “I’ve got to draw blood for a test and give her an injection. We need a gurney now. We’ve got to take her down to the IC. Her condition is progressing much more rapidly than I expected.”
“Ally, is this what you want?” Stone demanded. “You don’t have to do this.”
Her breath was coming in rapid pulses now and she was cringing from the light even as she struggled to rise out of the wheelchair.
“I want… to get…”
She managed to pull herself onto her feet, but then she sagged and collapsed against Stone as he pulled her to him.
As one of the nurses grabbed the newly arrived gurney and pulled it over, Van de Vliet and Ellen O’Hara seized her out of Stone’s arms and lifted her onto it.
“You’ll have to leave now,” Van de Vliet said to Stone. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I promised her I’d stay by her side and, by God, I intend to do just that.”
“I’ll determine what’s best for her,” he replied. “Please go up to the reception area. I’ll let you know how she is.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Then I’ll call our security and have you removed from the premises.”
“Stone,” Ally said her eyelids flickering, “it’s okay. I want you to tell my mother I’m here. She’s in room two-thirteen, upstairs, the last time I saw her.”
“You’ve got it. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
She heard him saying that, but then she thought she heard another voice inside her head begging him not to leave. It was the last thought she had before the world went entirely white.
Wednesday, April 8
7:39 P.M.
Ellen O’Hara watched the scene with mounting dismay. She’d overheard Dr. Van de Vliet talking to Debbie about the procedure scheduled for Alexa Hampton. Then she’d checked the schedule that had been put into the database. It turned out that Alexa Hampton had two procedures scheduled.
The troubling part was, one was identical to the procedure that had been performed on Kristen Starr several months back, or at least so it seemed. And that had resulted in what she’d just overheard Debra call “the Syndrome.” By whatever name, it had produced some horrible side effects. Why on earth were they now repeating that with this new patient? Hadn’t they learned anything?
Karl Van de Vliet-or whoever ordered this idiotic travesty-was about to put the job of every person at the Dorian Institute at risk. If whatever happened to Kristen was replicated and the word got out, it was going to be the end for everyone who worked here.
Most troubling of all, what about Ms. Hampton, who seemed like such a nice person? Did she agree to that experimental procedure? If she knew what had happened to Kristen Starr, surely she wouldn’t have.
Ellen O’Hara didn’t know how she could stop Dr. Vee from doing what he appeared to be planning to do. The procedure was going to be performed in the laboratory.
The only way she could think of to stop it was to try to warn Ms. Hampton that what they were about to do was extremely dangerous. But how? Her chart in the database said they were going to keep her quarantined down in the subbasement. That was specified.
On top of all this, Kenji Noda had brought in some unidentified patient this afternoon, wheeled in while strapped to a gurney, and they had taken that patient to the subbasement. Noda was still down there, and Winston Bartlett had come in and gone down also. The unholy pair. And now they’d be holding Alexa Hampton down there too.
Was it possible to get past them and warn her?
She was determined to find a way.
Wednesday, April 8
7:40 P.M.
Stone was deeply troubled as he entered the elevator to return to the lobby. He had promised Ally he’d stay by her side and now he’d let her down. Was this the best he could do? He felt like he had to earn the right to be back in her life, but he seemed to be making a slow start.
But he wasn’t about to leave the premises until he knew she was okay.
Hoping for the best, he reminded himself that although Van de Vliet was wound pretty tight, he clearly was more than competent. The problem was, he’d just offered a transparent song and dance when Ally asked him about Kristen. Now it was easy to understand why she’d said she didn’t know whether to believe a word he said. But that didn’t necessarily preclude him being a Nobel Prize-quality medical genius.
In any case, to finally be inside the Dorian Institute was a major coup in his own quest. Up until now, Bartlett’s press heavies at BMD had turned back his every attempt to get a firsthand look at the institute or an interview with Karl Van de Vliet. Now, at last, he’d actually seen the man.
So… after he visited with Ally’s mother upstairs-which ought to be interesting, an actual patient interview-he was going to try to keep a low profile and scout the place. Maybe he could finally talk his way into an interview with the celebrated Van de Vliet himself, or at least with some of his research staff. This was definitely the break he’d been waiting for. Finally he’d have some actual reporting to put in the book.
When he stepped off the elevator, he noticed that the uniformed security guard looked him over suspiciously. He and Alexa had been waved through the metal detector when they came in, owing to the urgency of her condition. Now he felt as though the guard, a tall, middle-aged black guy with thinning hair, was trying to frisk him with his penetrating eyes.
Stone smiled and nodded toward him and headed for the desk in the middle of the reception area. Around him a number of patients were ambling through the lobby, returning from a room in the back that was identified as DINING HALL. Some were wearing blue gowns, and most appeared to be in their sixties and seventies. But they all were sprightly and animated as they walked along chatting. Somehow the place felt more like a vacation spa than a clinic. He’d like nothing better than to sit them all down right this minute for an interview. “How has the Gerex stem cell procedure affected your condition? Have you had any side effects?” But to do that without official permission would undoubtedly get him evicted on the spot.
He took a deep breath and walked over to the reception desk.
“Hi.”
The woman looked up. She was the same middle-aged Hispanic nurse with bold eye makeup who was there when they came in. “Hi. How’s your friend feeling?”
“Actually, she’s my cousin, and I don’t know how she’s doing because they kicked… sent me up here. But she gave me a mission to keep me occupied.”
“Well,” the woman declared with a smile, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Dr. Van de Vliet is a miracle worker.”
“So everyone says.” He smiled back. “My cousin asked me to look in on her mother. Nina Hampton. She
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