Myrikal Page 2
Once behind the barred door of a basement apartment, Russ turned to his wife and demanded, “What’s really going on with you?”
She sighed and looked down at her hands. “I… I think I might be… pregnant.”
A small, unmanly sounding squeak squeezed through his tightening vocal cords. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair then shook his head. “What?”
Karly scowled. “You heard me.”
“I didn’t think that was possible…”
She rolled her eyes. “Improbable, yes. Impossible… apparently not.”
“But…”
“I know,” she interrupted. “We’ve been screwing without rubbers for a decade and nothing happened. Well”—she shoved him—“something happened this time.”
He backed up until his legs hit something then he plopped down onto a ripped chair. He gasped for air as his chest tightened like a python’s killing embrace wrapped around him. “What are we gonna do?”
“We’re gonna do what we do best.” She shrugged. “Kill it.”
The pressure around his heart eased up only slightly and he nodded. “Yeah… yeah. That’s what we’ll have to do. But… how?”
“How should I know?” Karly yelled. “It isn’t like there are any clinics we can run to anymore.”
His face burned as frustration boiled up inside him.
Karly threw her arms in the air. “I don’t know… Maybe you should just hit me really hard in the stomach.”
“Do you think that’d work?” The thought of hitting his wife should have repulsed him, but, instead, a little thrill of excitement thrummed through his veins.
“Maybe…” She scowled. “Don’t look so eager about it.”
He bit his bottom lip. “Maybe we should go ask Doc. He might have some ideas.”
“Yeah, okay, yeah. Let’s do that.” She grabbed her jacket from the counter and threw it over her shoulders.
The sun’s rays never seemed to make it all the way to the surface of the earth anymore. Russ shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket as he glanced up at the dark sheet of clouds that had been an almost constant barrier to the sun since shortly after the ‘quakes first hit. His thoughts bounced around in his head like a bag of marbles dropped from a third-story window as he and Karly walked through the streets of the deserted city.
There was more than one clan in Manhattan that would snatch Karly up in a heartbeat if they knew she was knocked up. Russ figured the same disease that had seeped up from the newly formed crevasses in the earth—the disease that had killed millions within a couple of weeks in the days following the ‘quakes—had also been what had caused most of the women, or men, to become infertile. It was rare that anyone reproduced. And when a woman was found to be pregnant… Russ clenched his hands into fists. They’d take her for sure. Anything to increase their numbers. Rebuild the world to their own specifications.
He and Karly had refused to join any of the clans, becoming instead valuable assets to them. Their assassination business thrived in this world with no order. And they didn’t have to rely on anyone but each other to survive. They’d never wanted a child even before the world had been broken. Children would slow them down. Be a burden. In this diseased and dilapidated world, it would be more than a nuisance. It would be downright deadly.
As expected, they found the man they called Doc in the remnants of a corner pharmacy. The empty shelves mocked them as they made their way to the back of the “store.” The bald-headed man behind the counter whirled around at the sound of their footsteps. His face twitched and his head jerked toward his shoulder with a pronounced tick that always worsened when he got nervous.
“Heya, Russ, K… Karly. Haven’t seen you around much lately.” Twitch. Tick. Jerk.
“Doc.” Russ nodded. “We… uh… we’ve been asked to do a job that we could really use your help with.” Doc was the only other person besides Roman who knew their true identity. They’d needed his medical expertise a time or two.
The tick worsened, wrenching the older man’s head in what had to be a painful convulsion. “You… you know I’m n… not in the business of killin’, right?”
“I know, Doc. This ain’t exactly our usual job. We just need some information from you.”
“Okay.” Nod. Twitch. “Okay. What do ya’ need to know?”
“Well, let’s say there’s a woman that’s with child. Only, she doesn’t want to be. How would one go about getting rid of… uh… ending the pregnancy?”
“Oh,” Doc’s shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. “Depends on how far along she is.”
“Let’s say, not very far along. Maybe six weeks or so,” Russ said.
Doc nodded. “It’s mighty hard at that stage. You know… without endangering the woman.”
Russ placed his hands on the counter and leaned toward Doc. “At what stage would it be safe and what process would one use?”
The old man stepped back and wiped his sweating hands on the once white smock he wore. “Well, none of it’s safe, per se. But it’s less dangerous if you wait ‘til her belly’s grown to where you can feel the uterus is maybe the size of a volleyball at least. Maybe a basketball.”
He paused.
“And?” Karly huffed impatiently.
“Then you would stick a long needle in and infuse a big bag of solution into the womb. A highly salinized solution.” He raised his eyebrows and looked at Russ. “I could make you some. I have the ingredients in the back.”
Russ pushed back from the counter and folded his arms. “How long would this solution be good for? The lady’s stomach isn’t quite as big as a volleyball yet.” He forced himself not to turn and look at his wife’s abdomen.
Doc’s mouth twitched in what could have been either an attempt at a smile or another tick. “Oh, uh, six months. Maybe a year.”
“And, what would such a solution cost, if we were to have you make it?” Russ asked.
“Maybe… maybe just a couple a Z-packs?” He raised his eyebrows.
Russ was in no mood to bargain. “Okay. Two Z-packs. I’ll bring them by tomorrow. Have the solution ready first thing in the morning.” He turned to go then spun back around, eyes narrowed. “And that price better include the needle and tubing needed to perform the procedure.”
Doc nodded his bald head vigorously.
Early on, when Karly became sick and tired of being sick and tired, they’d attempted her previous suggestion of causing trauma to her abdomen. Russ pummeled her with his fists until she begged him to stop. Well, a little longer than that. He’d found it oddly invigorating and had a hard time reigning it in even after he’d had to physically uncurl her body from the fetal position to continue the beating. She didn’t speak to him for a week after that, even though it had been her idea. And then, she’d only spoken to tell him she didn’t think it had worked. Her abdomen was colored with nasty bruises, but there had been no bleeding or other signs of miscarriage.
So they waited reluctantly. When Karly’s pregnancy started to become just a little bit obvious, she went into seclusion. Russ carried on with their business, serving their clients on his own. Being alone increased the danger exponentially, but the danger of anyone finding out about Karly’s condition was far worse. The thought of her becoming a brood mare for any of the clans made him sick to his stomach. He’d never find another partner in life to match the way she heartlessly carried out assassinations in one breath, and tenderly—and sometimes not so tenderly—loved him in the next.
They set a specific date on which to perform the infusion that would hopefully result in the riddance of the parasite growing inside of her. Russ made sure his schedule was clear that day and the following two days in case there were complications. He’d been avoiding even glancing at Karly’s bloated abdomen. The undulations caused by the creature’s movements made him want to vomit.
The day arrived. Karly laid on a bed with clean sheets, her volleyball-sized belly uncovered. Russ downed his third shot of whiskey in p
reparation for what he was about to do. He wiped the side of the protruding mound with betadine and uncapped the long needle. The size of the needle, attached to tubing that ran to a large bag of not-quite-clear fluid, made him wince. Maybe he should have one more shot of whiskey…
“Russ.” Karly’s shrill voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Just get it over with already. I’m ready to be rid of this parasite before I go stir crazy here.”
“Yeah… okay.” He drew in a deep breath and reached for her belly with his free hand. He pressed his fingers into the flesh until he could feel the resistance of the uterine wall. The creature inside kicked against his touch and it took all his concentration not to pull his hand away. “Ugh,” he growled.
“Come on already!” Karly tensed and grasped at the bed sheets as he inserted the needle.
He knew he must be in the right place when the baby—creature, he corrected himself—jerked and moved away from the sharp object. Russ held it in place with one hand and unclamped the tubing with the other, letting the fluid flow into his wife’s uterus.
The fluid dripped slower and slower until it almost stopped. The bag was only a quarter empty. “It stopped,” Russ said.
“Well, squeeze it or something! Doc said the whole bag needs to go in.”
“Okay… yeah.” He furrowed his brow. “You’ll have to hold the needle in place.”
Wrapping his hands around the three-liter bag, he squeezed and watched as the liquid flowed into the drip chamber of the tubing.
“Shit! That hurts!” Karly pushed her back into the mattress and grimaced. “Cramping…”
“Want me to stop?”
“No!” She closed her eyes and panted.
When the bag was empty, Russ pulled the needle out and held pressure to the puncture site with a square piece of gauze. He held the pressure for fifteen minutes then taped the gauze in place with duct tape. “Do you think it worked?”
“The little parasite isn’t dead yet, if that’s what you’re asking.” She gestured to her engorged abdomen. “The little life-sucker is flailing like a fish out of water in there. And I have to pee.”
“It didn’t work.” It had been a week since the infusion. Karly had endured excruciating cramps for days. But the baby still wiggled around inside her.
“What do we do now?” Russ asked.
“I don’t know, but I know I’m tired of hiding out. We need to figure out another way to get rid of this thing.” She gestured at her abdomen.
He turned his back to her, messing with the wires from the solar panel he’d rigged up to a lamp. “We might have to just wait until it’s born, then kill it.”
“No way can I handle this seclusion for another four months. No way.” She put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around to face her. “Think of something else.”
He sighed. “I have a job to do tonight. I’ll do some research after I’m done.”
“Don’t come home empty handed.”
His research consisted of going to a dive bar—that’s the only kind that remained in the new society—and getting slurred-speech, staggered-step drunk. He purchased drinks for an aged bum and they struck up a conversation that eventually turned to Russ’s problem. The bum came up with what the drunk-minded Russ thought was a genius idea. After making a couple of stops to gather supplies, he stumbled his way back to their latest hide-out carrying a rather full duffle bag.
The light flickered in the top floor apartment they’d made into their hideout. Russ scowled. I told her not to waste the stored solar power. Who knows when we’ll see the sun again? “Karly!” he barked as he stepped into the living area.
“I’m right here, you idiot.” She sat in a busted up recliner, curled up under a blanket. “What did you figure out?”
Forgetting about the light and wasted energy, he smiled and wiped a small bit of drool from his chin. “We’re gonna electrocute the little bastard.”
Karly raised an eyebrow. “And… how exactly are you going to do that without also electrocuting me?”
“Don’t worry. I have it all figured out.” He unzipped the bag and removed a hard-case with the letters A.E.D scrawled across the top. He grinned again as he looked her in the eyes. “Now, I’m not sayin’ that it ain’t gonna hurt, but it won’t kill you.”
“You’re a lunatic.”
“A lunatic that loves you and is gonna take care of our little problem tonight. Besides, you’re one of the few who survived the plague after the ‘quake. A little electricity won’t kill you.” He opened the case and pulled the long-expired defibrillator pads out of their package. He ripped the pads off and twisted the bare wires around the ends of two long, large diameter needles, securing them with electric tape. He plugged the AED into the one working outlet, figuring their solar power would give him more juice than the half-dead batteries inside the thing.
“Okay…” Russ looked around the room. “You should probably lay down for this.”
Karly lay on her back on the floor, a dusty pillow under her head. “I get to hurt you for every pain I feel during this. Keep that in mind, sadist.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. Desire boiled in his belly at the thought. “It’s a deal.” He handed her a stick. “Bite on this.”
In his drunken state, he forgot to clean his wife’s belly with betadine before inserting a needle in each side. His idea was to insert the needles into the creature’s flesh and then zap it. He could feel that the creature was trapped between the two sharp objects, but he kept meeting resistance when he tried to push them into it. “Hmm. I must be hitting bone.”
“Just do it,” Karly said. “The fluid should conduct the electricity right into the little parasite.” She pushed the stick firmly into her mouth and bit down.
He taped the wires down to the skin of her ever enlarging belly—he didn’t want to be touching them when the electricity fired—and hit the power button on the AED. He hit the “charge” button and a robotic voice said, “Shock not advised.”
Staring at the small box, mouth hanging partially open, Russ took a moment to remember an important instruction from his slovenly new friend he’d met at the bar. He tilted the AED to the side and smiled as he reached for a switch to turn the “auto” function off. He hit the “charge” button again and glanced at Karly as an increasingly high-pitched tone sounded to signify the charging electricity. He pushed the red “Shock” button and stared as his wife’s body convulsed, arching up off the floor. The lamp flickered and then died, casting them into darkness.
Karly lay panting before him. He reached for her hand, noting the cool moistness of her palm. “You okay?”
She spit the stick out and took a shaky breath. “Yeah. I think.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that again.”
“Do you think it worked?”
“I don’t know yet. I can’t feel anything but tingling right now.”
“What if…”
“Get these damn needles out of me!” she yelled. “We aren’t doing it again!”
He narrowed his eyes and looked from her to the device. There was no way she’d just lie there if he tried to charge it again. He frowned and removed the needles from her uterus, taping gauze over the puncture sites.
As he pressed the last piece of tape to her skin, the creature inside her kicked or punched out, hitting his fingers with a strength that surprised him.
“Damn it,” he mumbled.
“She insists that I find another way to get rid of the ‘tumor’ in her womb. Try something else. Says she can’t stand to be isolated for another minute, much less for three more months.” Russ tipped the small glass up and swallowed the contents. He closed his eyes as the burning liquid coated his throat. “I don’t know what to do.”
The ancient bum whom he’d friended during his last visit to the dive bar nodded his head as he sipped the drink Russ had bought for him. “Have ya’ tried radiation?”
“Huh?”
“Radiation…” the bum belched.
Russ scowled. “How on earth would I do something like that?”
“Welp… I was thinking about the before-times, when I had prostate cancer. You reminded me of that when you said ‘tumor’.” His eyes closed and his head bobbed forward.
“Hey!” Russ shook the bum’s arm. “What about prostate cancer?”
The bum jerked awake. “Oh… yeah. I had this treatment called brachytherapy. They inserted these tiny radioactive seeds into my prostate. Iridium, I believe. Stronger than the iodine stuff.”
“You’re suggesting I radiate my wife?”
“The thing about these seeds is, they only radiate the area you put ‘em. Make sure you get ‘em inside the sack with the ‘tumor’, and your wife should be fine.”
Russ couldn’t believe he was considering taking advice from this drunkard old man. Potentially dangerous advice. Possibly an answer to their problem advice. “Where… uh… where would I find some of these ‘seeds’?”
“Buy me another drink and I’ll show ya’.” The bum wiggled his eyebrows at Russ.
“Okay.” Russ waved the harried waitress over. Was he seriously considering this? He nodded to himself. He was. This had to be the answer. The little creature couldn’t possibly survive radiation, could it? “Drink quick, though. I want to go get this over with. Doin’ jobs without Karly is gettin’ old.”
The bum—whose name, Russ learned, was George—surprised him with his litheness. Russ followed him to an old, boarded-up hospital a few blocks away where the old man climbed a five-foot wall into a hidden alcove and pulled open what looked to be a barred window. Upon closer inspection, Russ saw that the bars had been hack-sawed and just appeared to be intact when closed.
George led him directly to an area in the basement that had “Caution: Radioactive Material” signs plastered everywhere. His new, old friend loaded him up with a lead container full of “seeds” and the large-bore needles and syringes necessary to inject them.
“How did you know where to find this stuff?” Russ asked.
George shrugged. “I used to deliver it. Most of it’s gone in the other hospitals in the city, but, for some reason, people have left this one alone.”