Trauma

Eighteen

As Sotillo and Tyndall turned away, Lafferty threw himself across the room in a last-ditch attempt to fight his way out. He knew that the odds against him were hopeless, but he felt he owed it to Sarah and himself to try. Sotillo and Tyndall were surprised at the sudden rush but Mace, the attendant who had remained while Pallister went to organise the bays, was obviously prepared for it. As Lafferty lunged forward he simply stepped aside like a matador dealing with a clumsy bull and hammered his fist into the side of Lafferty’s head. Lafferty went down and lay still on the floor.

“No more silliness, please,” said Sotillo, looking down at Lafferty’s prostrate form.

Lafferty came round to find Sarah pushing heavy boxes against the door. He sat up slowly and asked what she was doing. Sarah jerked her head round and said, “Good. You’ve come round. Are you all right?”

“I think so,” said Lafferty, confused by the activity.

“Can you help me?” asked Sarah.

Lafferty got to his feet unsteadily and rubbed the side of his head. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked haltingly.

“I’m barricading the door,” replied Sarah. “I’ve decided I’m not going to go meekly like a lamb to the slaughter. I want to hold on to life as long as possible. I think we should put up a fight; what do you say?”

Sarah didn’t wait for an answer, and Lafferty watched her manoeuvre one of the life-support machines into position with a determination he found compelling. There seemed to be no point in emphasising the hopelessness of their position. He turned to look at the space above Mary’s bed where the machine had been. “You disconnected it?” he asked.

“Mary doesn’t need it. She’s dead,” replied Sarah. “We do. Come on. Lend a hand. Bring the other power-pack over.”

Lafferty did as he was bid. He was still puzzled, but it felt a whole lot better to be doing something rather than just sitting around. He shook off the last of his drowsiness and got to work. He pulled out the remaining heavy boxes from below the bed, carefully avoiding the glass waste-tank, and found that they were full of spares for the life-support machines: diaphragms, filters and pump-bodies. He dragged them one at a time across the floor and started adding them to the barrier. When he had stacked the last of them in position, Sarah took a step back to look at the barricade. She screwed up her face. “There’s not going to he enough weight.” she said anxiously.

Lafferty joined her and had to agree. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Wedges!” He pulled some of the plastic tubing from the tube ports on the machines and started pushing it into the crack along the bottom of the door.

“Good thinking,” said Sarah, but her voice still betrayed doubts.

“What about the bed itself?” asked Lafferty when he’d finished.

Sarah looked round and nodded. “I’ll move Mary.” She tore away the plastic bubble from over the bed and used it to wrap Mary O’Donnell’s body.

“I still don’t understand what happened to her,” said Lafferty as he watched.

“The new vaccine didn’t work on Mary,” said Sarah. “It had the complete opposite effect to that intended. It left her without any protection at all. So, when they came to challenge her with an injection of live virus it simply rampaged through her body.”

“But that might happen to other people too,” said Lafferty.

“Precisely.” agreed Sarah. “That’s what Sotillo and Tyndall were arguing about, Sotillo wanted to dismiss Mary’s case as a chance in a million happening. Tyndall had cold feet; he wanted to withdraw the vaccine.”

“I see,” said Lafferty as he stepped in to lift Mary’s body gently from the bed and lay it on the floor. As he did so, a deep sigh came from her throat and Lafferty almost dropped her.

“It wasn’t real,” said Sarah, quickly putting her hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “Just trapped air in her lungs.”

Lafferty nodded nervously and joined Sarah in pulling the bed across the floor. They propped it up against the door as they heard sounds outside it.

The door moved in a little as someone tried to open it, but the wedges held without allowing too much strain to fall on their barricade.

Another attempt was made to open it before Sotillo realised what had happened and banged on the door.

“What is the point of this, you stupid people?” he demanded. “You can’t escape!”

Neither Lafferty nor Sarah replied. Both of them were concentrating on keeping their weight against the bed-frame.

Sarah inclined her head to look at her watch. Lafferty didn’t ask why, although he did wonder. He couldn’t imagine anything less important in their current circumstances than what time it was. A tremendous crash at the door put the thought out of his head as Pallister and Mace took a running charge at it together. The door jerked open a few inches before the wedges and the weight of the barricade stopped it.

As Lafferty applied his full weight in an attempt to close it again, he saw either Pallister’s or Mace’s hand come through the gap and try to get some purchase on the edge of the door. He had a box of pump spares lying at his feet and, picking up one of the heavier components, a round, chromium-plated pump-body, he smashed it across the invading fingers. A yelp of pain was followed by a quick withdrawal of the hand. Lafferty and Sarah managed to close the door again, but the wedges had been displaced. Lafferty dropped down on his knees quickly to push them back into place. He was squeezing the last one into the crack when a vicious kick to the door caused it to move back an inch or two and caught his forefinger in the gap along the bottom. The skin was torn back from the base of his nail and it was his turn to cry out in pain. He got to his feet with his injured finger in his mouth and kicked the last wedge into place with his shoe.

“Are you all right?” asked Sarah anxiously.

“I’m OK,” replied Lafferty, briefly taking his finger out of his mouth to spit out blood.

“Get some tools!” shouted Sotillo outside the door.

There was a lull in the proceedings while either Mace or Pallister or both went off to find tools; then Sotillo spoke. “Why don’t you stop this foolishness? You know there’s no escape. Why don’t you just accept your fate and make it easy on yourselves? There will be no pain or suffering, I promise. A simple injection of a neurotoxic chemical and it will all be over. You won’t feel anything.”

Sarah whispered to Lafferty, “Personally, I don’t fancy a simple injection of a neurotoxic chemical. Do you?”

Lafferty admired Sarah’s bravery and wished he could match it. In the circumstances, all he could manage was a weak smile.

“But if you persist in this time-wasting nonsense,” continued Sotillo, his voice becoming harsher, “I might not be inclined to be so charitable. We could be talking about new dimensions in pain before I’m finished with you!”

Lafferty saw that this time Sarah had visibly paled. Somehow it seemed to give him courage. “Chin up!” he said. “We’ll give them a run for their money.”

Sarah smiled and said, “You’re a very special person, Ryan. In the circumstances I think I’m allowed to say that.”

Lafferty gave a slight nod.

“Maybe we should both he honest with each other?” suggested Sarah tentatively.

Lafferty, leaning against the barrier, held her gaze for a moment before saying, “Maybe it would be wrong to leave certain things unsaid, Sarah. I think you know that I’ve come to feel a lot for you. More than I should, perhaps, but I can’t deny it and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Good,” said Sarah quietly. “I’m glad. It’s also mutual.” Lafferty could hear that Mace and Pallister were back outside the room. He and Sarah turned their attention back to the door and braced themselves. A metal object began rhythmically battering against the outer skin. Lafferty didn’t think it was an axe — it didn’t sound heavy enough — but he could hear the sound of splintering wood.

He watched as the inner surface of the door began to blister under the onslaught. A hole appeared and started to get bigger as the long metal spike Pallister was wielding ripped into the wood. Lafferty reached out to the wall and turned off the room light so that the opposition would not be able to see in through the hole. He, on the other hand, could see them as the hole got bigger. The jagged opening was the size of a tennis ball but it was getting bigger by the second.

When it reached the size of a football, Lafferty picked up another of the heavy, metal pump-bodies and waited his chance. He knew that pretty soon one of men outside must try to get an idea of what the barrier looked like. In the event, it was Pallister. He stopped working with the spike for a moment and his face suddenly filled the gap as he tried to see into the room. Lafferty let fly with the pump-body and it caught Pallister squarely between the eyes. There was a sickening crack and the man went down without a sound. Lafferty knew there was a very real chance that he would never get up again. He had put all his weight behind the throw.

Sotillo was furious. He shouted at Mace, telling him to continue with the spike before angrily confirming that Lafferty and Sarah would know what suffering was all about before he was through with them.

Lafferty had to fight off a sudden wave of hopelessness that swept over him. What they were doing was pointless. They couldn’t hold out much longer, and all they had achieved was the probable death of one man and the incitement of Sotillo to a sadistic rage. But there was no going back. They had to fight on to the bitter end. He armed himself with more pump spares and continued to hurl them through the hole in the door, but Mace was keeping well out of the firing line, using the spike from the side rather than head on. Lafferty was running out of ammunition. He looked about his feet but couldn’t really see anything useful in the darkness, and they couldn’t afford to turn the light on. One thing that did catch his attention was one of the power packs they had pushed against the door earlier. The light coming in through the hole in the door illuminated the words DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE along its front. It gave him an idea.

“Sarah!” Lafferty whispered. “Take over!” He pushed the box of spares over to Sarah with his foot and added, “Make them count.”

As Sarah let fly with her first missile, Lafferty found the connecting leads from the power pack and started to strip the ends off them with his teeth. When he was satisfied with the length of the bare wire he had created, he plugged the other ends, those fitted with jack plugs, into the power pack. He attached one of the bare ends to the metal bed frame, and then started to feel around the base of the wall for a plug socket. He found one but it was a good two metres from the door. Would the cable stretch? He started pulling the power pack towards the socket but found that the main cable was jammed below the base of the bed frame. It was half a metre short. Lafferty raised his eyes towards the ceiling and muttered through gritted teeth, “Give me a break!”

He tugged and pulled until sweat broke out on his face but the cable was jammed tight. “It’s no good!” he gasped, “I can’t budge it.”

“Only two left,” said Sarah anxiously, as she hurled another missile through the hole to clatter harmlessly off a wall outside. “Oh God, Ryan! There’s not going to be enough time!”

Lafferty looked up at her but couldn’t make out her face in the darkness. “Time for what?” he asked.

Sarah paused before replying, “I didn’t tell you, but when I went in to the residency earlier to change my clothes I telephoned Paddy Duncan. I told him where we were going and why. There’s a chance he’ll phone the police when he realises I haven’t returned. The longer we hold out, the more chance there is that help will come.”

“Why didn’t you say this earlier?” asked Lafferty.

“After what I said to you about being treated as the little woman I didn’t want to admit to being so scared that I told someone what we were going to do.”

Lafferty shook his head in the darkness but the knowledge that they still had a slight chance of survival gave him new energy. He squatted down at the base of the bed frame and prepared for a final try at moving it. He gripped the base of the frame with both hands and pressed his cheek to it as he started to heave. The veins on his forehead stood out with his effort, but he kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the image of a car with a blue light speeding towards them.

The frame moved slightly and he knew that the cable was free. There was no time to rest. He immediately pulled the power pack into range of the socket and positioned the plug below it.

“Move back, Sarah!^” he hissed.

Sarah moved away from the door and Lafferty carefully placed the remaining bare wire on the floor in the centre of the doorway. It would not stay in place. It seemed that no matter what he did, the wire still preferred to curl up into the air. As a last desperate resort, he tore off his shoe and placed it on top of the wire to stop it moving. Satisfied that everything was now in place, he turned up the voltage dial to maximum and pushed the plug into the socket. He held his breath as he threw the switch. A single red light illuminated to indicate that the wires were now live.

Lafferty crawled across the floor on his hands and knees to join Sarah before positioning himself behind the glass waste tank that had been plumbed in to Mary O’Donnell’s bay. He tore off the plastic cover and Sarah saw what he intended to do. She placed herself at one end of the tank to help, and they waited in silence.

“They’ve run out of ammunition!” Sotillo shouted at Mace. “Get on with it!”

Sarah and Lafferty saw Mace appear in front of the hole in the door and quickly enlarge the hole so he could now see the form of the obstructions behind it.

Lafferty took Sarah’s hand in the darkness and whispered, “We can do it!” He felt a slight squeeze of her fingers in reply.

As Mace started to lever the door open, Lafferty braced himself for the final gamble. Mace switched on the light in the room and the look of apprehension faded from his face as he saw Sarah and Lafferty crouching down against the far wall as if in fearful acceptance of their fate. The door opened and Sotillo stepped into the opening. He paused to smile down at them.

Lafferty kept his eyes on the hands of the men in the doorway. Mace had gripped the bed frame; he was about to try to make the opening a little wider. Sotillo stepped forward to help him and Lafferty made his move. “Now!” he shouted, and he and Sarah heaved the glass waste tank over on to its side so that a tide of foul-smelling liquid swirled over the floor to engulf the feet of the men standing there. In doing so it completed the electrical circuit between the bed frame and the bare wire lying on the floor. Sotillo and Mace were electrocuted, adding a new, awful burning smell to the already foul atmosphere.

Only Murdoch Tyndall was left alive, and his face was a mask of fear. As Lafferty got up and started towards him, Tyndall picked up the metal spike that Mace had been using and flung it at him. Lafferty was too exhausted to move out of the way quickly enough and the shaft of the spike caught him on the forehead. Tyndall took to his heels as Lafferty fell to the floor. Sarah cried out in anguish and dropped to her knees to cradle Lafferty’s head in her arms. The wound didn’t seem too bad, but Lafferty was unconscious.

Sarah realised that she and Lafferty were alone. She could hear the lift taking Tyndall up to the Sigma lab and relaxed a little. “We did it,” she whispered as she looked down at Lafferty. She felt totally exhausted and let her head slump forward on to her chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, crooning softly to Lafferty that it was all over.

Suddenly, Sarah became aware of a fierce crackling sound. Her eyes jerked open. The short-circuited power pack had burst into flames and the fire was spreading rapidly.

Panic replaced exhaustion for Sarah and she struggled to her feet to start dragging Lafferty’s unconscious body towards the door. The fire had already spread to a coil of plastic tubing and noxious fumes were beginning to fill the air.

Sarah found great difficulty in moving Lafferty at all; he was so heavy. But she managed to clear a path through the debris round the door and drag him out of the room. She tried closing the door to contain the fire, but it had jammed against the bed-frame and the flames were starting to lick round it. She returned to Lafferty to start dragging his body down between the patient bays to the lift corridor.

Frustration and anger vied inside her as her strength began to fail with the effort required. Progress was now painfully slow and the fire had spread out of the room into the main ward. It was catching up on them. If only she had been able to close the door. It might have given her an extra few minutes. As it was, the flames had now reached the first patient bay. The plastic bubble was alight.

Sarah had to lean back fully on her heels to drag Lafferty along by the arms a foot at a time. The fumes were making her cough, interrupting her rhythm and heightening her fear. It seemed likely that the short-circuit Lafferty had caused had tripped out the ventilation system. As the smell of burning flesh reached her, she was filled with panic and given a final surge of adrenaline. She managed to make it to the swing doors, dragging Lafferty’s lifeless body and almost fell through them backwards. A final tug and Lafferty was through them too. She just had to get him to the lift and they would be safe. The fire was now half-way down the unit but there would be plenty of time to summon the lift and, if need be, the swing doors would afford them some protection from the fire. The air, however, was becoming increasingly foul.

Sarah checked Lafferty’s pulse and found it strong. “Wake up!” she urged. “We’re nearly there!” There was no response, so she pulled him slowly along to the lift and pressed the button. Sarah’s heart almost stopped as she saw that the little light above the button had failed to come on. She stared, unwilling to believe it. She pressed it repeatedly, but still nothing happened. It was not just a bulb failure. There was no sound from the lift machinery.

The truth dawned on Sarah like a knife in the ribs. Tyndall had turned off the power to the lift. There was no way out. What little strength Sarah had left in her legs drained from her and she slumped slowly to the floor beside Lafferty. Tears rolled down her cheeks for the first time. It had all been for nothing. They were both going to die. Lafferty groaned as if he was about to come round and Sarah shushed him. “Ssh,” she whispered through her tears. “Sleep on Ryan, sleep on.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. The fire was using up all the available oxygen and the air was filled with toxic fumes. Her only comfort was the thought that they would both be unconscious or even dead before the flames reached them. Sarah closed her eyes and rested her head on the wall behind her. Lafferty’s head was in her lap.

She was on the point of losing consciousness herself when she heard the lift machinery start up. She opened her eyes and blinked, not sure if she was imagining it.

Lafferty groaned loudly and she said sharply, “Ssh!”

It wasn’t her imagination; the lift was coming down! She struggled to her knees and had half-turned round when the lift doors opened and Paddy Duncan stepped out. Two policemen were with him. “Sarah! What the hell?”

“Oh Paddy, thank God you’ve come. I’d given up hope. I thought we were going to die,” gasped Sarah. She tried to stand up but collapsed into Paddy Duncan’s outstretched arms.

One of the policemen got Lafferty into the lift while Paddy helped Sarah inside. The other policeman went to look through the swing doors at the fire. He held a handkerchief to his mouth. “What about the patients?” he yelled back to the others.

“They’re dead,” said Sarah weakly. “They’re all dead. Leave them be. Let’s get out of here.”

Fresh air had never tasted sweeter as Sarah and Lafferty lay on the ground outside waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The Fire Brigade were doing their best to contain the blaze, but it was a hopeless task. The very fact that the secret lift was the only access route to the sub-basement meant that they could not tackle the seat of the blaze. The ground floor was now alight and it was more a question of stopping the fire spreading to other buildings than attempting to save the Institute.

“How are you feeling?” asked Sarah.

“You saved my life,” said Lafferty, taking her hand.

“It was the least I could do,” replied Sarah, “after all you’d done for me... Maybe we’re good for each other?”

Lafferty turned to look at her in the light coming from the fire. “Maybe we are,” he agreed, squeezing her hand.

He turned away to look at the fire and started to think about what they would tell the authorities. Would anyone believe them?

Sotillo and his henchmen were dead. Cyril Tyndall was dead and all the evidence against Murdoch Tyndall was going up in flames in front of his eyes. Apart from that, there was the disturbing question of how easy it had been for Gelman Holland to obtain a government licence for the new vaccine. Sarah had pointed out that the government had put up half the money for the Head Trauma Unit. Gelman Holland had put up the rest. Could the partnership have had a deeper significance? Was it conceivable that the government actually knew that brain-dead patients were being used as human guinea pigs for faster vaccine development?

Suddenly he caught sight of Murdoch Tyndall out of the corner of his eye. Tyndall was at the far end of the building, talking to a group of policemen. They weren’t restraining him in any way. In fact, they seemed quite deferential, looking occasionally at the flames together as if sympathising with his loss. As Sarah and Lafferty watched, a distinguished looking man wearing a dark coat was allowed through the police barrier to join the group. Lafferty didn’t recognise him but Sarah did.

“I’ve seen him on television,” she said. “He’s a junior minister in the Scottish Office.”

Lafferty nodded but didn’t say anything. He was wondering if the presence of the newcomer answered his earlier questions. He could see that Tyndall had recovered all his old self-confidence as he engaged the government man in conversation. “Tyndall doesn’t know we’re alive,” he said.

“The bastard,” spat Sarah.

“It may turn out to be our word against his,” said Lafferty, voicing his fears about lack of evidence.

“He is not going to get away with it,” said Sarah resolutely. “Even if it means sifting through the ashes of that building and checking dental records for the next year to establish the identity of the patients.”

Lafferty did not reply immediately. He was thinking about the obstacles that would be put in their way and the almost certain lack of cooperation they could expect from the authorities. He became aware that Sarah was waiting for him to say something. “Are you with me?” she asked.

Lafferty looked at her and smiled. “I’m with you, Sarah.”