All Fall Down (21 page)

Those who somehow avoided the virus would die in the riots and violence. In Los Angeles the descent into anarchy was already underway. With the complete breakdown of society would come starvation, fights to the death over food and resources; all those diseases that medicine had kept in check would overrun the world like the plagues sent to ravage Egypt.

The world was full of people. Too full. The planet needed purging. It was a shame that the female as well as the male population had to die, but there was nothing Angelica could do to prevent that, if the Goddess so decreed it. And she would still have her Sisters – they were all immune. A good number had been lost to the virus, but that had been necessary to ensure the final selection would stay healthy when the time came. Seven Sisters, the Prophecy foretold, though Angelica was still awaiting clarification of this. There were only six at the moment: her, Heather, Cindy, Simone, Brandi and Preeti.

Where is the seventh?
she wondered. There was a possible candidate, but Angelica had doubts about that one. She needed her for now, for the information she supplied – but that was a means to an end.

Angelica drove as fast as she could down the arrow-straight road, between dark rocky canyons and vast flat desert, a hundred, a hundred and thirty – forty – fifty – miles an hour, the energy of the Goddess coursing through her veins, feeling utterly unstoppable. And the Goddess sent her an immediate and crystal-clear message:

The name of the seventh Sister is Kate Maddox, not the other one you are considering. Maddox too understands the power of the Plague. And you and she are similar in many ways – ways that she will come to understand.

Yes, Angelica thought. Dr Maddox, you are perfect for us. Thank you, Sekhmet. So that’s why you saved Maddox from the blast. It makes sense now.

As she thought about Kate, Angelica’s cell phone rang.

‘I
’m listening. Yes. Tell me.’ She bit down on her irritation
. The person on the other end of the line was always in a hurry, always worried that someone was going to walk in and catch them.

She listened, becoming increasingly concerned as her contact talked.

‘Dadi Angelica, they’re closer than they think … Kolosine hasn’t a clue; from what I can tell, he’s exhausted his only idea … But Dr Maddox …’ She told Angelica the worrying news. ‘There’s something else …’

Angelica ended the call and immediately called Heather.

‘Sister Heather.’

Things had been stilted between them since the scene in the motel. Neither of them had mentioned it, but they had stayed away from each other, only communicating when it was essential. Perhaps this was the bright side of what Angelica had just learned: it gave Angelica a good reason to put distance between them, even if it meant a change to the plan, a change that involved sending her most reliable Sister miles away.

‘Dadi.’

‘I have a mission for you.’

‘Yes?’

‘I need you to go to Sagebrush.’

Paul perched on the edge of the armchair, holding a glass of flat Coke that Watton had given him and trying to ignore the cat rubbing round his ankles. Outside, the night throbbed with the sound of crickets.

After Rosie had dropped him off, Paul had gone up to his room intending to lie down for a moment while he thought over the questions he wanted to ask Watton. The next thing he knew he was waking up with a furry mouth and it was dark outside. He’d raced downstairs and got the front desk to call him a cab.

The older man adjusted his glasses. ‘I didn’t want to tell you this while Rosie was around because she’s such a sweetheart … I don’t want to upset her.’

Paul leaned forward, eager to hear more but mindful that he needed to let Watton tell the tale in his own
time.

‘I understand.’

‘OK, so … A while before Medi-Lab got shut down, I volunteered for something …’ He started coughing and Paul gritted his teeth. But then the cat jumped on to Watton’s lap and he scratched it behind the ears. This seemed to calm him, and he continued:

‘A memo went round asking for volunteers who wanted to earn a little extra. They wanted healthy men and women who were willing to give up some of their spare time. I was always up for earning more, especially with sales being slow. So I put my name down.’

Paul waited for him to continue.

‘It seemed like easy money. Heck, it was easy money. And damn good money, too. All we had to do was go to the lab a few times, let them prod and poke us and take a blood sample. Then they gave us a cold.’

‘A cold?’

‘Yep. A mild dose of flu. They gave us that, we got sick – but nothing too bad, just the usual, you know? Blocked nose, sore throat, high temperature … Actually, I did feel pretty rough for a couple of days and they said that it was fine to take the time off work, stay in bed. I was worried I’d lose the extra money, but they told me it was all good. Then Dr Diaz came round and gave me another shot. He said it would make me feel better. And it did.’

‘Who was Dr Diaz?’

‘Oh, he was the head of research at Medi-Lab. Dr Camilo Diaz.’

‘He came to your house? The head of research?’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘Was he alone?’

‘Yep. Which was unusual, ’cos you hardly ever saw him outside of his lab. He was Mangold’s right-hand man. Real clever guy, though he had a bit of a rep as a ladies’ man. Always had a younger woman on the go.’

‘Did Diaz tell you what was in the shot he gave you?’

‘He just said it was some kind of new vitamin shot they were testing.’

Paul mulled over what Watton had told him so far. He wasn’t sure why the old man hadn’t wanted Rosie to hear this. Unless … ‘Let me guess, Rosie’s dad was one of the other volunteers.’

‘You guessed it. And he had the same experience as me.’ Watton leaned forward. ‘A few months later, all that business with the virus happened and we got shut down. We were unemployed. I suddenly had a lot of spare time. And I spent a lot of that time thinking on what had happened.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well … before we did the trials, Dr. Diaz got us to sign a whole sheaf of legal papers saying in a very long-winded way that we accepted full responsibility, understood the risks, yada yada yada. That if anything happened to us as a result of the trials, the company could not be held responsible. He tried to rush us into signing it, saying it was just a formality, but I read through the whole thing. By the time I got to the end, I was about ready to back out.’

‘Because you realised it was dangerous.’

‘Uh-huh. Well, risky at any rate. I talked about it with Owen – Rosie’s dad. I said to him that I didn’t think he should do it. I was a single guy, and I really needed the money. I had some pretty big credit card debts, you see. But Owen had a family. He had Rosie.’

‘But he needed the money too?’

‘I reckon I wasn’t the only one with debts. You see now why I didn’t want to talk about this in front of Rosie. He must have needed the money bad, ’cos it was like he didn’t give a shit about the risk. I don’t think he even read through the waiver.’ Watton sighed. ‘So, anyway – that’s what I wanted you to know. Mangold was testing something potentially dangerous on his employees. If you’re writing a book about the son of a bitch, maybe that oughta go in it. It wasn’t right that Diaz took all the blame for what went down. Wound up in jail while Mangold walked away a free man.’

‘Diaz was put on trial?’

‘Yeah.’ He coughed, wincing and rubbing his chest. ‘He got twenty-five years.’

‘That’s a hell of a long sentence.’

‘They threw the book at the poor bastard.’

‘Diaz – D-I-A-Z?’ Paul asked, getting out his phone so he could type it in to his Notes app.

‘Yup. Camilo Diaz.’

‘Do you know anything else? Like what prison he got sent to? Or whether he’s still in? He might have got out for good behaviour by now.’

Watton laughed, the laughter quickly turning into a wheeze and then a coughing jag. When he’d recovered, he shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you have the internet here?’

Watton just laughed again.

Paul stared at his phone screen. He could turn on data roaming to access the internet, but it would immediately make his phone traceable. Still, he had already used it once, to phone Kate back. Sod it. He slid a switch on the screen and waited while the phone connected to a 3G network. Then he ran a search for ‘Camilo Diaz Medi-Lab prison’.

The results included a news article about the doctor dated a couple of years ago. It described how he had continued his work even in prison, publishing papers and helping to educate some of the other prisoners, teaching classes in biology and science. A model prisoner, by all accounts. Most importantly, it included the information that Diaz was in Glencarson Prison.

Unfortunately for Paul, Glencarson Prison was in Los Angeles.

‘Kate, Kate … Please, wake up.’

She opened her eyes, unsure of where she was. In her dream, she had been back at home in Oxford and she instinctively looked to her left to see if Paul was there. But the side of the bed on which he always slept was empty. The reality of where she was and everything that had happened recently came rushing back to her, making her want to pull the quilt over her head.

‘I’m so sorry, but I need you to help. I think I’ve made a breakthrough.’

The room was dim and there was a female form standing over her, silhouetted in black against the grey. It was Junko.

‘Very sorry to wake you …’

‘Junko. What … what time is it?’

‘About midnight, I think.’ She checked her watch. ‘Yes, one minute past twelve. I’m sorry, Kate, but I’ve been working, and I think I’ve found something very important. I need to show you. I’m—’

‘Please don’t say sorry again.’

Kate reached over and switched on her bedside lamp,
in time to see Junko bite her lip to stop herself from apologising.

‘Please, will you come with me to the lab?’ she said instead. ‘I would have woken Kolosine or Chip, but … well, I will explain when we get there.’

Kate rubbed her eyes. Her head felt like it was stuffed full of overcooked pasta. ‘OK, of course. Just let me go to the loo.’

Junko stared at her blankly.

‘The bathroom. I need to pee really badly. And, um, I’m not wearing any clothes.’

The Japanese woman looked embarrassed and Kate couldn’t help but laugh. She really liked Junko – her dedication to the cause, her quiet determination. Beneath her rather neat and prim exterior, Kate could sense a rebel trying to get out.

‘I’ll meet you in there. Please come quick!’ Junko pleaded.

Kate studied her. She was jiggling from foot to foot, completely unable to stand still. ‘You’re really excited, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, yes. I think this could be it, Kate. How do you say it? I think I’ve cracked it, already!’

Brandi gently applied the brakes, bringing the black Ford Expedition to a halt before reversing into a space between the trees. She killed the engine, leaving them in pitch darkness. It was 00.10 a.m. and the forest was as silent as a cemetery.

Brandi was an expert mechanic and driver, ex-army, left for dead after an explosion in Iraq. Three years ago she had crawled from the wreckage of a bombed truck, barely aware of who she was, and kept going, hitching rides and stealing cars and bikes, heading east until she reached China. Angelica had found her in Shanghai and brought her back to the States, made her part of her plans. All Brandi wanted was a home. Somewhere to belong. She would kill for Angelica. The bomb that had almost killed her had left her with screaming tinnitus, and the only time the ringing in her ears ceased was when Angelica whispered to her.

Angelica, who sat in the passenger seat beside Brandi, was whispering now. ‘We know our mission.’

The other three, Brandi, Cindy and Simone, replied in one voice: ‘We know.’

‘We know who we are,’ intoned Angelica, looking intently at them all. Cindy was her first and favourite Sister. Angelica had found her in a bar in a one-horse town in Nebraska, passed out through drink, a group of local men circling her, gazing at her with lust and violent intent, and Angelica had rescued her, nursed her through her withdrawal from the alcohol, whispered to her and held her as she shook with the DTs, telling her of the great plan the Goddess had for all of them.

‘We know.’

‘We love our Sisters and the Goddess.’

They reached out and squeezed each other’s hands. ‘We love.’

‘We hate those who would stand against the prophecy.’

Their united voices dropped an octave. ‘We hate.’

Angelica was quiet for a moment and Brandi knew she would be communing with the Goddess. Even though it was dark in the car and all she could see were the black shapes of the trees through the windshield, she closed her eyes and dipped her chin, saying her own silent prayer.

‘Sisters,’ Angelica said when the prayer was done, ‘does everybody understand absolutely and without hesitation what they have to do?’

They murmured assent.

‘Sister Brandi, keep the headlights turned off and drive to the gate. If you don’t receive a message by one fifteen, we will have failed. You are to head back to the ranch immediately, contact Sister Heather and burn everything. The Goddess will give you further instructions.’

Brandi blanched. ‘But Dadi Angelica …’

Angelica leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Her lips were like ice. ‘Don’t be alarmed, Sister. It’s a precaution, that’s all. We won’t fail.’

Kate checked her watch. It was ten past midnight, and Junko was waiting for her outside the door to the lab. She was still bouncing from foot to foot, impatient
for Kate
to join her. There was nobody else around; Junko had been working on her own, although Kate noticed a light burning in the breakfast room as she passed it.

‘So what have you found?’ Kate asked. Her heart was beating hard now, infected by Junko’s enthusiasm. Could she really have figured out how to create a vaccine for Watoto? Surely that was too much to hope for.