Chapter 7 - The Final Patient
Dr. Evans didn't turn around as Julian, Clara, and Walter stepped into the freezing subterranean laboratory. His white lab coat was stained with dark blotches of oil, and his graying hair was disheveled, but his posture was disturbingly serene.
“You’re late, Julian,” Dr. Evans said smoothly, his voice echoing in the vast, sterile room filled with empty glass containment pods.
Julian kept his hands visible, his dark suit jacket rustling as he took a cautious step forward across the frosted floor tiles.
“Turn the terminal around, doctor,” Julian ordered, his tone steady despite the silver revolver resting inches from the scientist’s right hand. “The download has to stop right now.”
Dr. Evans let out a quiet, tired sigh, finally spinning his chair around to face them. He looked older than he had three weeks ago, his eyes sunken and ringed with dark circles of utter exhaustion.
“The download isn't a theft, Julian,” Dr. Evans said, gesturing toward the progress bar on the massive monitor behind him, which currently read ninety-eight percent. “It’s an insurance policy.”
Walter stepped past Julian, his hand dropping toward his side where a concealed holster was hidden beneath his jacket.
“Insurance for who, doctor? The board? Or the syndicate that’s been funding your unauthorized memory-wipe trials?” Walter demanded, his eyes fixed on the silver revolver.
Dr. Evans smiled faintly, picking up the revolver by its grip and laying it flat on the desk, pushing it slowly toward Julian across the metal surface.
“For the patients, Walter,” Dr. Evans replied softly. “For every single person whose mind was altered in this room to cover up the pharmaceutical company's lethal side effects.”
Julian stared at the revolver, then looked up at the row of empty glass containment pods along the far wall, noticing for the first time that the drainage valves were wide open.
“Where are the patients, Dr. Evans?” Julian asked, a sickening knot forming in his stomach as the monitor hit ninety-nine percent. “Where did you move them?”
Dr. Evans pointed a trembling finger toward the central observation window overlooking the deep underground reservoir beneath the facility.
“They aren't missing, Julian,” Dr. Evans whispered, a tear finally escaping his eye and cutting a clean path through the grime on his cheek. “They’re already down there in the water supply, dissolving the oil residue before the federal inspection team arrives.”
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Before Julian could process the horrifying confession, the computer monitor flashed a brilliant green checkmark, and the entire laboratory went dead silent.
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