The Atlantis Plague(45)

Kamau nodded and left.

David climbed into bed. For the first time since he had walked out of the tube, he felt confident, grounded. He knew why: he had an objective now, a mission to complete and an enemy to defeat. That felt good. Sleep came quickly.





CHAPTER 38


Immari Sorting Camp

Marbella, Spain


The Immari soldiers had directed Kate and the other survivors who had pledged to one of the white resort towers, assigning two people to each room. The sun had set hours ago, and Kate peered out the sliding glass door now, just as she had seen the Orchid residents gazing out yesterday, when Martin had led her out of the spa building, revealing the camp for the first time.

There were no lights on the Mediterranean. She had never seen it so dark. There was only a faint glitter across the sea, from a city in northern Morocco.

“You taking that bed?” her roommate asked. She motioned to the bed closest to Kate, near the window.

“Sure.”

Her roommate set her things on the other double bed and began ransacking the room—looking for what, Kate couldn’t imagine.

Kate wanted to open the pack and search for anything she could use, but she was too drained, physically and mentally.

She placed the backpack under the covers, climbed in, and let sleep take her.





She wasn’t in an Atlantean structure, Kate knew that instantly. It felt more like a villa in a Mediterranean city, perhaps from Marbella’s Old Town district. The marble-floored corridor led to an arched wooden door. Kate had the impression that if she opened it, something important would happen, some revelation.

She took a step.

There were two doors to her right. She heard movement inside the closest.

“Hello?”

The movement stopped.

She walked to the door and slowly pushed it open.

David.

He sat on the end of a king-sized bed with disheveled sheets. He was shirtless, bent over, unlacing his tall black boots. “There you are.”

“You’re… alive.”

“Apparently I’m hard to kill these days.” He looked up. “Wait. You thought you’d never see me again. You’ve given up on me.”

Kate closed the door. “I never give up on anyone I love.”





Kate awoke with an eerie sensation: she could remember every second of the dream, as if she had been there. David. Was he alive? Or was her mind giving her hope? She needed to focus. Martin. Escape. Those were the priorities now.

The first rays of sunlight were creeping into the room, and her roommate was already up.

Kate opened the backpack and began searching it. She opened the small notebook and turned to the first page.

Martin had scribbled a message to her.


My Dearest Kate,


If you’re reading this, they’ve caught us. For the past 40 days, this has been my greatest fear. I tried 4 times to get you out. But it was too late. Of the 30 patients that died in the trial, I hoped each one would lead us to a cure. But we ran out of time. Since your father disappeared 29-5-87, I spent every waking hour trying to make you safe. My failure is complete.

Grant my last wish: save yourself. Leave me. It’s all I ask.

I am proud of the woman you’ve become.


Martin

Kate closed the notebook. Then she read it again. Martin’s message to her was clear. And touching. But she sensed there was something else. She took a pencil from the pack and circled all the numbers. Together, they read:

4043029587

A phone number. Kate sat up in the bed.

“What is that?” her roommate asked.

Kate was so lost in thought she almost didn’t hear her. “Um… a… crossword puzzle.”

Her roommate set her book down and rolled over, suddenly interested. “Can I have it when you’re done?”

Kate shrugged. “Sorry, I wrote on it.”

Her roommate scowled, got up from the bed, and padded on heavy feet to the bathroom without another word. The lock clicked.

Kate fished the satellite phone out of the pack and dialed the number.

The sat phone beeped once, then clicked, and a voice began immediately, in a manner that told Kate that it was a recording. The voice was female; an American.

“Continuity. Status follows. Recording time: 22:15 Atlanta Local, Plague Day seventy-nine. Trial 498: result negative.”

Trial 498. What was the last trial she had done—where Marie Romero had died? The tube Martin had begged her for, the result he uploaded into the thermos-like cylinder? 493? There had been five trials since then, obviously at other sites.

“Network status: down. Dial zero for operator.” The speaker paused and then the voice changed. “Continuity. Unsere Situation ist…”

The message was repeating in German. Kate hit zero on the keypad. She heard rustling in the bathroom.