Deadline
Page 113

 Mira Grant

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“Because that’s not creepy.” I scanned the walls. “I don’t see any cameras.” What I did see was a series of sniper slits in the walls, probably leading to a second airtight corridor where the gunmen could be locked until their job was done and their blood tests were clean. This was a storage room. It was also a kill chute, and we needed to remember that. “Is there one of those nifty escape tunnels here, too?”
“Underground. It lets out on the other side of the property.” Kelly stopped at a door with a keypad and retinal scanner next to it. She started hitting buttons, narrating her actions, probably to keep one of us from getting trigger-happy and putting a bullet through her head. “I’m giving the system the visiting technician security code, along with the security code for Dr. Wynne’s lab, and telling it I have three guests with me. This level of security doesn’t distinguish between entry points. It’s a known hole, but we keep it open in case we need to bring people in the back way.”
“To avoid the media?” asked Mahir mildly.
Kelly reddened but kept tapping for several more seconds before she pulled her hand away. A panel opened in the wall, exposing four blood test units. “We all need to test clean before we can proceed.” She slapped her hand down on the first panel, starting her retinal scan at the same time. It was a good maneuver: It cut off any further questioning, and we had plenty of questions. Starting, at least for me, with “How the f**k are we planning on getting out of here?”
“Too late to back out now,” muttered Becks, and initiated her own blood test. Mahir and I shrugged and did the same. Becks was right; too late now.
The tests came back clean—no surprise, given that we’d only just arrived—and the door swung open, revealing a long white corridor that looked a lot more like what I expected from the CDC. Only about half the lights were on, filling the corners with shadows. A sign on the nearest door read “All the comforts of home,” I said, following Mahir into the hall. I was the last one through; the door closed behind me, locks engaging with a hydraulic hiss that reminded me chillingly of Portland. The hairs along my arms and the back of my neck stood on end as I realized that we were well and truly locked in now.
“The lab is this way,” said Kelly, turning to the left and starting to walk with a confidence I’d never seen from her before. We were on her home ground. Only the best and brightest actually go from medical school into careers with the CDC; she must have worked for years for the right to call these hallways hers.
This has to be killing her, said George quietly.
I nodded, not wanting to say anything out loud. George and I grew up not trusting anything anyone said to us. We always knew there were things people didn’t say when the cameras were running. For Kelly, the CDC’s betrayal had to feel like the end of the world. I was incredibly sorry for her… and at the same time, I was privately glad to know that she had to be hurting like hell. The CDC was her life, and the CDC was part of the reason my sister died. I could feel bad for Kelly. I couldn’t forgive her for being naive enough to believe the things she’d been willing to believe for the sake of her career.
At least she’d judged the janitorial schedules correctly. We walked the length of one hall and then another before we reached Dr. Wynne’s lab, and we didn’t see a single soul. I didn’t see any cameras, either, and I was watching for them. Their security was incredibly well-concealed. That was a little worrisome. They’d been nowhere near this good in Portland, and in my experience, when the security cameras go invisible, that means they have something they really need to hide.
“Here,” whispered Kelly, stopping at an unlabeled door with a blood test panel next to it. She started to raise her hand, and then hesitated, expression turning unsure. “We’re going to have to go through one at a time,” she said, slowly.
I winced. Becks scowled. Going one at a time meant that either one of us walked in ahead of Kelly—which would mean walking blind into unfamiliar territory—or we sent her through alone, which could split the party permanently. I didn’t want us on opposite sides of a door when the CDC shock troops swept in and gunned us all down.
And I didn’t have a choice. We’d followed Kelly’s research across the world, and we’d followed her directions into the guts of the Memphis CDC. If we called it off now, a lot of people had died for nothing. “Go ahead, Doc,” I said. She shot me a surprised look. “We’ll be right behind you. Don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere.”
Kelly nodded and slapped her hand down on the panel. A moment later, the light over the door flashed green and she stepped through, vanishing.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Becks, stepping up to start her own test.
“I never have before,” I said. “I figure, why start now? I wouldn’t want to ruin a good thing.”
The light went green before she uld say anything. That was probably for the best. She still glared as she stepped through the door, and flipped me off as it slid shut again behind her.
Mahir sighed as he pressed his hand against the panel. “I do wish you wouldn’t taunt her while we’re in the field.”
“She wouldn’t know what to do with me if I didn’t.”
“I suppose not,” said Mahir, and stepped through the newly open door, leaving me alone in the hall.
Not entirely alone. Your turn, said George.