The Alpha Men's Secret Club 5(21)

There came a whirr, and then the sound of a knock. Well, not exactly a knock, but she knew it was the defibrillator going off.

She swiped away a curtain.

Connor O’Brien was on a gurney, surrounded by doctors and paramedics. His body was stuck with tubes and wires and chest leads and everything else. The cardiac monitor showed jagged lines. And then it went flat again.

“He’s not breathing. Respiration is zero.”

Yes, Alyssa could see that.

“Charging. Stand back.”

Everyone else stood away from the bed except the doctor placing the defibrillator paddles on Connor O’Brien’s chest.

The whine again, and the knock.

Connor’s body twitched.

The monitor showed a blip, and then a flat line again.

Oh no, no, no, Alyssa thought in horror. All sorts of thoughts tumbled in her head. Was it anything they had done? Was it the experiments? Did Connor kill himself in some manner to protect the larger community?

She blindly walked out of the cubicle to the next one. There, the same surreal scene unfolded. Only it was the elegant Moira O’Brien on the gurney. The monitor also showed a flat line.

What was this? A suicide pact?

“What do we do?” said the doctor holding the paddles.

“Don’t give up,” she snapped.

This was the end of her career. Worse, the Director might court-martial her for criminal negligence. Two of the most precious specimens in the history of the world, and she lost both of them.

But what about Rust?

Her heart stilled.

Another commotion appeared at the entryway of the ward. She strode out of the cubicle, only to see Rust run alongside another gurney which was being wheeled in by several agents. The gurney contained an immobile and pregnant Kate Penney.

Rust’s face was very pale.

He whispered, “Save her.”





19



“How do you feel?” the doctor said.

“Fine.”

“Any headaches, vomiting or the like?”

“No.”

“Did Kate take anything you didn’t?”

Rust closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands.

“Yes. A . . . I believe it was a steak.” He had uncovered the other dish and seen his untouched dinner.

“It’s being analyzed now.”

“It’s poison.” Rust stood up. “I want to see her. I want to see my parents.”

“They are doing all they can for them. Please . . . sit down. You will only get in the way.”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Please – ” The doctor put a firm hand on his shoulder. “I know you are, Professor O’Brien. But there’s nothing you can do. Just leave it up to us.”

Rust knew he was right. With a sinking feeling, he sat down again. He was helpless and powerless, and that was a horrible feeling. Like he was in a void. Like he was still living the nightmare he could not wake up from.

The door to the clinic opened. Alyssa strode in. She stopped as soon as she saw Rust’s face.

Rust held his breath.

Alyssa said, “Please . . . come with me, Rust.”



*



Rust gazed at the bodies of his dead parents. Their faces – calm in repose. He felt . . . an absolute calm and also an absolute panic. It was a pervasive mélange of two juxtaposing emotions. What happened had happened.

He swallowed.

His mother – so beautiful. So young in death. He remembered how he had battled against her in later years. They used to be so close when they were growing up. Him playing at the foot of her desk as she worked on her case files. And she would never chastise him for making a noise.

How are you doing down there, Rust?

Vroooom.

He showed her his toy fire engine.

Glad to know you’re still alive.

Looking at her peaceful face now, his heart wrenched. Horribly.

He was well aware of Alyssa’s presence behind him. He cleared his throat. “I would like a moment alone with them.”

“I’m sorry. This is not an ordinary circumstance.”

Yeah. He understood. It meant that she would not leave him alone with them.

He clasped his mother’s cold hand. Hard. Then he leaned over to kiss her on the brow.

He moved to his father next on the other bed. The pain in his chest swelled. There was a neuroscience study which showed that the pain the brain experienced during emotional trauma was no different from what it felt during physical trauma. The pain Rust felt now was akin to a knife coring and gouging out his heart.

So many regrets. He hadn’t even patched things up properly with his parents. So many things left unsaid. All he could remember were the quarrels he had with his father.

If I walk out this door, I’m not coming back.

I’m not going to do what you ask of me.

You’ve got blood on your hands, Dad, and I’m not going to be a part of it anymore.