Key to Fear Page 7

  And Violet Jasmine Royale had let herself loose.

  Elodie turned and charged toward Aubrey’s room.

  X

  The eight-year-old’s cries grew louder as Elodie reached the windowless door to Patient Ninety-Two’s room. Elodie stopped just short of the Violet Shield. Her breath came in short, panicked puffs. Each exhale passed through the haze, scrubbed and sanitized by the purple light, and clean and new by the time it fogged the surface of the door.

  A wet series of coughs erupted from inside the room.

  Elodie took a step back. What was she doing? She was about to risk her life to . . . do what? She wasn’t Vi. She wasn’t a rebellious assassin. She was studying to be the Long-Term Care Unit’s Chief Lead. She was going to get married. She was going to be normal and healthy and safe.

  Elodie nearly collapsed back into the silence of the LTCU. “Holly, we, uh, we—” She paused and took a shaky step away from the door. She had to get a handle on her panting breath and speeding heart. She had to get control of herself. Calm determination, that’s what would be expected from the Chief Lead. That’s what Elodie should expect from herself. “Help me find the medi-pump lab. I’ll change out the sedation pumps myself.”

  “I’ve submitted a work order to have a bot fill them,” Holly countered.

  “It’s going to take way too long. That little girl is awake.” Elodie stabbed the air in front of the door. “She is crying and in pain and calling for her mom!” She wrung out her trembling hands and shoved them into her pockets.

  Be calm. Be calm. Be calm.

  “My patients are all sedated. I don’t know what to do when they’re awake. I’m not trained to know what to do.” Elodie balled her still quaking hands. “Now ping the location of the pumps. I’ll take over from there.”

  Holly remained silent, but a map of the MediCenter formed transparent over Elodie’s vision, along with two blinking lights signaling her current location and the location of the pump room.

  Elodie itched to leave the LTCU and retreat into the elevator. But she couldn’t. Not yet. The part of her that had almost carried her into Patient Ninety-Two’s room without a second thought was begging for resolve. “Can I see her?”

  The door slid open and Elodie shuffled toward it, but not through. The Violet Shield danced in front of her as she peered into the room. Bands of white plastic held Aubrey’s thin limbs against the gurney she’d called home for the past four years. Her hands and feet twitched with each weak attempt to pull free. A thin sheen of tears coated the girl’s round, pale cheeks. Elodie flinched against the frightened whimpers and labored cries that tore at her ears—but she did not enter.

  Heat pricked her eyes. “Close it.” The door hissed shut as Elodie marched, calm and determined, to the elevator.

  XI

  Tavi drummed her fingers on the desk, her pointed nails clicking against the glass. “Took you long enough.”

  Arms out wide, Aiden glanced down at his uniform. “Why, yes, Tavi, I do look rather charming in this bright orange trash bag. Thank you.”

  Tavi rolled her eyes so dramatically, she might have caught a glimpse of her brain. “Anyway, there are several things you need to learn, and, lucky for you, you have the best teacher in the entire unit.”

  The tight elastic ankle cuffs dug into Aiden’s calves with each step toward Tavi. “Great.” He wiggled a bit as he walked. The constrictive orange fabric kept riding up. Leave it to Aiden to get another uniform that felt entirely too small. “Where do I go to meet this master teacher?”

  Tavi cleared her throat, the corners of her mouth twitching with a smile. “At the end of next week you’ll have a test on what you’ve learned.” She steepled her fingers, pressed them against her thin lips, and continued. “If you pass, it’ll determine which section within the End-of-Life Unit you’re best suited for. If you fail, well, you’re kicked from the program and will have to head back to career placement. For what, I assume, is the three hundredth time. Now,” her hands slapped against the desk as she stood, “some newb instructors go easy on people who are sent down here, but others—” She sucked in her lips to keep from smiling. “Others have been here longer and know what’s expected and how to weed out losers.” Her gaze narrowed at him as she enunciated the word. “And the like. Others—” Another twitch of her lips. “Like me.” Twitch. “And, like I said, I am the best.” The smile broke free, curling up mischievously as she grabbed her holopad and shoved it into her pocket.

  Aiden felt his expression abandon his carefree facade and twist into a grimace. Tavi hated him, thought he was a loser, and now she was the person in charge of teaching him everything he needed to know to be successful in the ELU. Aiden tugged at the orange fabric zipped up to his throat. “This should be fun.”

  Tavi blew past him, her pink hair still unmoving despite her speed. “What part of death, exactly, is supposed to be fun?” she tossed over her shoulder as her short legs carried her down another long corridor they had yet to explore.

  Aiden slumped forward and dragged his hands down his cheeks.

  Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

  But he knew why. He even knew how. Cath Scott was trying to save him and prove a point at the same time—better this than Rehab.

  “It doesn’t look good to constantly lag behind!” Tavi’s shout hammered his internal mutterings.

  With the enthusiasm of a person who’d spend the rest of his life surrounded by death, Aiden shuffled after his instructor.

  -:-:-

  Aiden followed Tavi around the bowels of the MediCenter for what seemed like a million hours. She pointed to a thousand different rooms, explained to him exactly why he didn’t qualify for access to see what was behind each shiny, windowless metal door, before pursing her lips, shaking her head, and doing the same at the next door they came to.

  Aiden checked the illuminated number on his cuff. 10:52.

  He fought the urge to tilt his head back and groan. No way have I only been down here for a little over an hour. He dragged his fingertips along the wall as he trailed Tavi and her fluorescent pink and blond hair helmet. “What a time suck,” he muttered.

  “Hm?” Tavi’s sneakers squeaked against the floor as she stopped abruptly in front of another metal door.

  Aiden snapped his hands to his side and stared ahead attentively. “Nothing.” He couldn’t bare another lecture about his “lack of interest and what that said about his character.”

  Tavi shrugged and typed a few notes onto her holopad before looking up. “Now, this door, you’re actually allowed to go through.”

  “I’m honored.” Aiden attempted a bow but thought better of it as soon as Tavi’s glare sliced through him.

  She passed her cuff under the control panel and motioned for him to enter as the door slid open.

  It was exciting, and, if Aiden was being honest, a little intimidating to finally gain entry into one of the mysterious rooms. He’d assumed they would walk around the entire basement and end up back at the intake desk before he was actually allowed to touch anything.

  Inside, white light beamed from overhead even brighter than the scorching light of the hallway. Aiden’s eyes watered, and he squinted, barely getting a peek at Tavi’s pink-tipped bob before it disappeared around the corner. Aiden rubbed his eyes and rushed to keep up with her.

  “Cold Storage is through that Violet Shield barrier,” Tavi said as, with a sweeping gesture, she motioned across the bright room to the floor-to-ceiling pane of violet. “Although you’ll never have to mess with anything in there. Humans are not allowed past the barrier. Well, not living ones anyway.” She let out a tinkling chuckle. “Now, we can start in here with the cadaver examiner bots, or go over to the lab and begin with sample testing and storage. Either way, we’ll begin begin with containment protocols.” Her fingers flicked across her holopad like the legs of a bug. “We have to cover all
of it, so it’s really up to you, which is something you won’t hear me say very often.”

  Aiden’s eyes finally adjusted, and his hand fell by his side. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he fought to keep his gaze from locking onto the Cold Storage shield and the rows of death beyond.

  “They’re clear.” He relinquished control, tossing his attention to the room past the violet wall. “All of it is clear. You can see . . . everything.”

  Tavi’s thin shoulders hiked. “They’re just bodies.”

  Aiden’s heart knocked against his ribs. “They’re people.”

  She snorted. “They were.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. In a way, she was right.

  “Look, Aiden, you seem like a . . .” She paused, scrunching her face in that disapproving way of hers. “Guy—I don’t know. My point is that we have amazing protocols down here. Part of the reason that Cold Storage is filled with clear cases is so that we can more easily monitor the bodies, and we aren’t only relying on bots to relay all of the necessary information. Cerberus pretty much liquified people, and with clear cases that’s super easy to spot.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers against her thin lips. “Not that it would actually get that far. I mean, the bots take samples, spray down the bodies and the cases and the walls and the floors, plus the Violet Shield and the—”

  Aiden shook his head. “I don’t need an explanation.” Tavi opened her mouth to object, and Aiden added, “At least, not yet. I just—” His shoes were the same sharp white as the floor and the ceiling and the walls and the lights. “I need a minute.”

  Tavi balled her hands into fists. Her scrubs hung loose on her petite frame. If he’d looked like he was wearing his little brother’s uniform earlier, she looked like she was wearing her mother’s. “Another break? Yeah, sure, fine, whatever.” Exasperated, she threw her hands into the air. “Take another one. Take all of the breaks you want. I’m not the one who has to pass the Level One Orientation Test next week. You are.” Scrunch. “And don’t get all queasy and barf on my floor.”

  Aiden wasn’t in danger of throwing up. He wasn’t in danger at all. With everything the Key had done to keep Westfall safe, any danger he could end up in he’d have to search out himself.

  His stomach hollowed as he sped toward the door that would free him into the hall and lead him back to the expansive intake room. He couldn’t help but take another look back at the storage boxes and the pairs of feet pressed against the end of the clear rectangle. All different sizes. All different colors. All waiting for dissection. All waiting to burn.

  “And we’ll meet back in the lab.” Tavi’s voice was tinny as his heartbeat slammed against his eardrums. “You’re so not ready for cadavers.”

  XII

  Elodie winced against the harsh white light that flooded the elevator as it yawned open and revealed her first glimpse of the MediCenter’s eerily quiet basement. Trepidation quaked within her limbs as she shuffled down the brightly illuminated hallway, following the path Holly had highlighted.

  Vi had almost gotten Elodie in trouble. Possibly horrible, life-ending trouble. Maybe that’s why the Key Corp had disposed of so many works of fiction, directing current authors to write tales that actually mattered and inspired today’s citizens, instead of books that planted false and dangerous ideas within their readers. And the corporation was right to do so. Elodie hadn’t even finished Vi’s series of books, and she had already come entirely too close to making a choice she would regret. The rules were there for a reason.

  The rules are there for a reason.

  The blinking light on Elodie’s vidlink ate up more of the highlighted path as she turned down another barren, light-soaked hallway.

  But Violet Royale hadn’t given her the idea to put her life in danger. Elodie was quite capable of coming up with her own original thoughts and making her own decisions. What had reading about Vi made Elodie do, anyway? Nothing! It had simply given her a little more . . . confidence? No, confidence wasn’t exactly the right word. Death by Violet had given her—

  Elodie jerked to a stop as a set of white shoes turned the corner and almost smacked into her own. Her gaze traveled up, up, up to mossy green eyes and a curly black mohawk.

  “You should watch where you’re going.” The guy grunted and unzipped the top half of his orange suit, tying the arms around the waist of his fitted blue scrub top. “You could’ve run right into me.”

  “Sorry. I was thinking about—” She bit back the words before she accidentally spilled her darkest secret. “Stuff. Thinking about stuff and not paying attention.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who was just an ass. I wasn’t paying attention either.” He rubbed his hand across his dark brow. “Got a lot of stuff to think about too.”

  Elodie brushed a damp curl from her shoulder as the familiar scent of earth and pine swirled around her. “Well, have a good one.” She double checked her map, and, with a quick and awkward wave, resumed her trek to the medi-pump station.

  “You didn’t happen to run into a door this morning, did you?”

  Elodie stiffened as his words pricked her back. She knew she’d recognized his voice and that evergreen scent. Unfortunately, she couldn’t run away this time. There was nothing in this hallway except for the doors he’d just emerged from, and she didn’t want to go anywhere near room forty-four and its biohazard symbol. Especially if it spit out frazzled employees half-dressed in biohazard gear.

  She turned slowly, hoping that in the time it took her to face him, she would somehow disappear into the bright lights of the hallway. “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

  His grin lit his entire face. “But it was pretty funny.”

  Her cheeks heated. “For you!”

  “You’re right.” He cocked his head, a crease forming across his smooth brow. “Your hair is wet.” He dragged his fingers along the shaved side of his mohawk. “Still wet is more accurate. I noticed it, you know, before.” His orange suit crinkled as he crossed his ankles and leaned against the wall. “You took a shower. A real one.”

  Elodie’s chin tilted skyward as she folded her arms across her chest. “I did.”

  And since she couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without someone commenting, she was never going to do it again.

  He picked at one of the orange sleeves tied around his waist. “I thought I was the only one who took water showers.”

  “Oh.” She tucked another half-dry strand behind her ear. “It’s a thing I do sometimes.” She stood a little taller, pleased with how nonchalant she seemed.

  He practically leapt away from the wall. “Have you ever taken a bath?” he blurted.

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Every day. Light baths are practically mandatory.”

  “No.” He stepped closer, tightening the suit arms hugging his lean middle. “I mean in water.”

  “Of course not.” Her laughter echoed off the sterile walls. “I don’t want to sit in dirty person soup.”

  He nodded as if it was his first time considering the fact, which would have made sense. It was the first time for Elodie.

  The blinking light flashed in the corner of her vision. “Sorry, but I’m in a bit of a hurry.” She pointed down the hall before resuming her quest.

  His sneakers squeaked as he shuffled after her. “Where are we headed?”

  She glanced up at him. “You’re coming with me.”

  The ends of empty sleeves flopped against his legs with each step. “Unless I’m being uninvited.”

  Elodie couldn’t help but grin. “Were you ever invited?”

  He tilted his head as he cracked his knuckles. “Technically, no, but you never know when you might need a guy with a biocontainment suit.”

  Elodie eyed the shiny orange suit, its arms flapping limply at his waist. “What do you do down h
ere that you need one of those?”

  Again, he tightened the arms around his waist. “ELU stuff.”

  Reflexively, Elodie widened the distance between them. She’d never met anyone who worked in the End-of-Life Unit. Cerberus was most contagious upon death, when people would collapse, their bodies bursting like raindrops against the pavement. Even though she worked in the MediCenter, she never worked with the deceased. No one did. The second someone was declared, the ELU was called, and everyone else went back to work on people they could actually help. Now that she thought about it, Elodie didn’t even know what a real dead person looked like. Probably like her patients, but deader.

  “Gross.” Her brow pinched. “The morgue?”

  He clapped his hands. “That’s exactly what I said.”

  No wonder he had taken so many water showers. She’d had one VR experience and wished she could shower again. Each day he probably had dozens of real life situations that clung to him like a second skin.

  Elodie glanced at the map, transparent across her vision. “I’m going to the medi-pump lab,” she said, changing topics. “Hey, you’re from down here. You wouldn’t happen to know how to change out the tubes, would you? Or is that not part of your job description?”

  His dark skin glowed deep brown under the lights. “Not that I know of, but it is my first day. I’m also not from down here, like some mole person living in those sealed up tunnels under the city.” He tapped his chin. “Shanghai Tunnels! Knew I hadn’t forgotten the name.”

  Elodie’s lips quirked. “Shanghai Tunnel mole person?”

  “Yeah like if some guy got bitten by a radioactive mole and became the world’s first tunneling, night-vision mole man. Or, at least that’s how I assume he would have become a mole man.” He shrugged. “What do you need in the pump lab?”

  “Long-Term Care Unit nursing business.” She returned his shrug with one of her own. “It’s kind of a long story.” The map flashed as she closed in on her destination, and Elodie cleared the screen from her field of vision. “But I’m here now, so . . .” She stretched the word as he followed her through the open door and into the narrow room, busy with bots.