Fandom: Primeval Characters: Connor Temple, Abby Maitland Rating: PG, at most Timeline: Set between 3.4 & 3.5 Disclaimer: Obviously a copyright infringement, but surely not worth suing over Summary: A string of bizarre deaths brings Abby Maitland face-to-face with a past she'd tried to forget, and her friendship with Connor Temple is tested as the team races to find the source of an ancient, deadly toxin.
Abby, Barrington and Sarah walked down a long corridor on the third floor of Maudsley Hospital's acute care wing. The walls were painted a soothing powder blue, but otherwise the atmosphere was austere and surprisingly quiet for a psychiatric facility. The sound of their footsteps on the gleaming tile floor echoed in the empty space. Reaching the end of the corridor, they encountered a reception centre staffed by a middle-aged woman in scrubs the same color as the walls. Sarah took the lead, walking up to the desk and extending a hand.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Sarah Page, and these are my colleagues, Dr. Michael Barrington and Ms Abby Maitland. We're here to see a patient, Mr. Gerald Willingham."
The matron ignored Sarah's proffered handshake. "We call them clients here," she said. "And visitors aren't permitted in this ward."
"This isn't a social call," Barrington interrupted, a little brusquely. "We believe this patient may be connected to a string of other, similar cases of unknown chemical toxicity – and it's imperative that we be allowed to evaluate him."
As the ward attendant visibly bristled in response to Barrington's tone, Sarah hurried to smooth things over. "What Dr. Barrington means is that there is a certain urgency to this matter, which is why we have of course obtained all necessary clearances." She opened her slim pocketbook and withdrew a document, showing it to the matron so the official Ministry seal was clearly visible. The woman studied it a moment.
"I'll have to call the Resident," she said.
"Absolutely! We'll want to confer with him about this case anyway," Sarah answered calmly. Abby admired her friend's unflustered demeanor; since Jenny Lewis's recent departure from the ARC, Sarah had been called upon to exercise her charm in many such situations that called for diplomacy and discretion.
The woman picked up the phone receiver on the desk and punched a few numbers into the keypad. After a moment, she began speaking quietly to someone on the other end of the extension. "There are three people here asking to see Client 2319," she almost whispered. "They say they're doctors, and they have papers from the Ministry … yes, a Dr. Barrington and Dr. Page … No, the Home Office … right. Thank you, doctor." She hung up the phone and looked back at her visitors. "Dr. Mukherjee will be with you shortly," she said curtly.
Sarah gave her a sunny smile. "Thank you so much for your help. We'll wait right over there."
Abby and Barrington followed Sarah a little way away from the reception centre. Out of earshot of the matron, Sarah frowned at Barrington. "I hope you'll be more tactful with the physician in charge, or we're likely to be booted out of here," she said.
Barrington nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've become accustomed to having to bulldoze my way through bureaucratic obstacles from my academic career." He paused and gave Abby a slight smile. "And Abigail can tell you that I tend to be passionate about things that are important."
At that moment a slender man in a white lab coat approached. "Good afternoon," he said stiffly. "I understand you are inquiring about one of our recent admissions."
"Yes," said Sarah, extending her hand again. This time it was accepted. "A young man who was brought in three days ago with a drug-induced psychosis." She handed Dr. Mukherjee the documents that the Home Office had promised would give them access to the patient. The ARC team had been alerted earlier that morning that a 20-year-old student from Brixton had been referred to Maudsley after becoming psychotic after ingesting Gob at an underground party. It was the first time they'd encountered a user who wasn't dead, and Abby and Barrington were eager to see, and hopefully talk to, the patient.
Dr. Mukherjee scrutinized the document Sarah provided. "You're physicians?" he asked doubtfully.
"Researchers, actually. The drug we believe this young man took has been linked to a number of deaths over the past several weeks," said Sarah. "The authorities are quite anxious to trace this substance as a matter of the public health and safety – and we're assisting in that effort. We hope to interview the patient to find out more about how the drug is being distributed." Her confident manner and warm smile seemed to sway the man.
"You can see him, but I wouldn't count on getting much information out of him," he said. "So far his mania has proved entirely intractable, despite treatment with the full arsenal of anti-psychotic medications. A CT scan shows massive damage to the hippocampus and pineal gland. Frankly, we have no expectations of him ever recovering."
The doctor led them past the reception centre, then down a side hall lined with heavy doors. Each door had a very small window at eye level, and as they passed Abby occasionally glimpsed the "clients" within. Most appeared agitated, pacing back and forth or pounding on the walls. Despite the violence of their actions and the fact that some of them seemed to be screaming, however, no sound reached the hallway. These rooms must be very well insulated, Abby thought. Suddenly an inmate launched himself at the door just as Abby passed. He pressed his face against the window, his eyes wild and his mouth twisted into a grotesque grimace. Startled, Abby let out a little scream.
"Abigail!" Barrington, walking just ahead of her, turned reflexively and caught her in his arms as she lurched away from the door.
"Are you all right?" Sarah said, turning back to her friend.
"Yes, I'm … I'm fine," Abby said, disengaging herself from Barrington's embrace. "Just gave me a start, that's all."
"I do apologize," Mukherjee said. "This ward houses clients in an acute state of illness. We can sedate some, but others are resistant to pharmacological interventions. So we keep them in a safe environment until their symptoms subside."
"You might have warned us," Barrington snapped. He looked closely at Abby, and she saw real concern in his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? You look a little rattled."
Abby hated to admit it, but adrenaline surging through her system was causing her heart to pound and prickly feelings to break out all over her body. She felt slightly light-headed and nauseous. Typically when she felt like this it was in response to imminent and very real danger – a rampaging raptor, for instance – and the act of confronting or fleeing the creature diffused the chemical rush. Abby felt a short kick-boxing session or run around the building would put her to rights very quickly. But those weren't options in this instance; the best she could do was try to walk it off.
"Yeah … I just need a minute," she said. "Doctor, is there someplace I can get a drink of water?"
"Nurse Gordon will be able to help you," Mukherjee said. "Shall we go back to the front desk?"
Abby waved him off. "No, I can find my own way, thanks. You go on and I'll catch you up in a minute."
Barrington looked like he might object, so Abby said firmly, "Honestly, I'll be fine in a minute. Just go." In truth, Abby was embarrassed at her response. She was proud of her small-but-mighty persona, a picture of toughness and self-sufficiency she'd worked hard to establish and maintain. She hated showing any sign of weakness … especially in front of Michael Barrington.
As Sarah and Barrington proceeded toward their destination, Abby turned and hurried back toward the reception centre. As she approached, she was surprised to hear raised voices. Turning the corner she came upon Nurse Gordon engaged in a heated exchanged with a young woman. The girl, painfully thin with long, heavily bleached hair, was distraught and weeping.
"Please, can't you just let me see him for a minute?" she sobbed. "Gerry's my fiancée. I have a right to see him."
"I'm sorry, miss. As I've told you, it's simply impossible," Nurse Gordon was trying to sound sympathetic, but it was clear she was beginning to be frustrated by the girl's persistence. "Perhaps in a few days he'll have stabilized and we can move him to one of the less secure wards."
"You're lying! I know you're keeping Gerry locked up because of what he knows. I've had Rozzers all over me grilling me about Gob. I don't know nothing about it, and neither does Gerry!"
"Listen, I have no idea what you're talking about," the matron snapped, "but I'm telling you again that you will not be allowed to see your friend. So you might as well just turn around and –" She suddenly caught sight of Abby. "Excuse me, can I help you?"
"Sorry," Abby said, approaching the desk. "Dr. Mukherjee said you'd be able to direct me to a water fountain?"
The nurse rolled her eyes and waved an arm in the general direction of the main corridor. "Down there, next to the ladies' lounge near the exit."
"Thank you," Abby said. She looked at the young girl, who was still standing at the desk, a look of desperation on her face. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked softly.
The girl shook her head. "I just want to see me boyfriend, but they won't let me. They've had him locked up in here three days, and I want to know what they're doing to 'im!"
"Why don't you come along with me and get a bit of fresh air," Abby said, putting her arm around the girl's slender shoulders.
The girl shrugged and allowed Abby to guide her back down the corridor. Reaching the exit, the two stepped outside and Abby helped the girl to a small bench set under a tree on the well-manicured grounds.
"I'm sorry about your boyfriend," Abby said as the girl dabbed at her swollen eyes with a tissue. "Have you been together long?"
"Two years," she said, brushing a straggle of hair out of her eyes. Abby noticed a small tattoo, a rosebud, on the inside of her wrist. "Gerry is such a great guy. He takes care of me, you know? Makes me feel special. Meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me."
"It's nice to have someone like that in your life."
"Have you got a bloke?"
"No …" Abby felt a momentary confusion. "That is, not a boyfriend. I do have a really good friend who makes me feel that way sometimes." She gave the girl an encouraging smile. " I'm Abby, by the way."
"Linda."
"Nice to meet you, Linda, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I have to be straight with you; I came here today to see your fiancé, too."
The girl instantly pulled back. "Are you a Rozzer? Cause I got nothin' to say to you if you are."
"No, I promise you I'm not with the police. I am working with some people who are trying to find out what happened to Gerry, so we can keep it from happening to anybody else."
"Is Gerry going to be okay?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I hope so. We know so little about this new drug –" Abby shrugged helplessly.
"Bleedin' Gob. I wish I'd never heard of it!"
"How did you hear of it?"
Linda eyed Abby warily. "I don't want no trouble – for me or Gerry. It warn't even like our regular crowd, yeah? We were just about havin' a bit of fun. It … it was our anniversary."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Abby placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I promise you, you won't get in trouble, and nobody needs to know you told me."
"Well, if it might help Gerry …" Linda murmured. "We were clubbing, see? And this bloke told Gerry about this squat party."
"Did you know this man?"
The girl shook her head. "Nah, we neither of us had ever seen him before. Gerry met him at the bar and he invited us to come along to this house."
"Okay. Where was this?"
"I don't know exactly. Someplace in Hoxton, I think." She looked embarrassed. "I was fair pissed by then. Sorry."
"That's all right," Abby said soothingly. "So this house – were there a lot of other people there?"
"Not really. Twenty, maybe. It was dark, and most everybody was pretty out of it by the time we came in."
"Everybody had taken Gob?"
Linda shrugged. "Gob, or something else. Acid, E's, ice … there was a lot of stuff, you know?"
Looking at this thin, pale girl, Abby felt sad that she was clearly so knowledgeable about this dark, dangerous world. Linda was about Jack's age, and must have been pretty once. Now she was drawn and sickly-looking, her long hair hanging in stringy clumps, her clothing soiled and unkempt. Abby wondered if she had family somewhere, worrying about her – the way Abby worried about Jack. She knew her baby brother used sometimes; he had staggered in once or twice from a night out with his friends looking rather much the worse for wear. And he was chronically broke, though whether that was likely due in equal parts to his partying, his chronic gambling and the simple fact that he never seemed to hold a job more than a few weeks. Abby had tried to talk to Jack about it, but he always brushed her off – and when she pressed him once, he'd lashed out at her. "Why don't you mind yer own business," he'd snapped. "I don't remember you being so interested about my lifestyle when I was being fobbed from one foster to the next." Jack knew exactly which buttons to push with his sister, and Abby recognized that. It didn't make his words hurt any less, however, or make the guilt she'd carried for years any easier to bear. Abby knew her fear of losing Jack forever made her too easy on him. But her brother was all she had. She couldn't bear it if he cut himself off from her.
She pushed these thoughts aside and focused on the girl before her. "So you and Gerry took Gob at the party?"
The girl shook her head. "Not straight away. I was feeling kind of antsy, you know, so I had a benzo and sat down in a corner. Gerry was doing poppers, I think, and then he disappeared for a bit. When he came back he said some blokes had some new stuff he wanted us to try together."
"Gob."
The girl nodded. "Yeah, that's what they were calling it. Gerry took me to a room at the back. There were a few people in there, trippin.'"
"Then what happened?"
"Gerry told me he'd got a couple of these tablets, that they'd cost him every bob he had left. He got them as sort of an anniversary present, I guess. He was that set on us taking 'em."
Abby felt her muscles tense in expectation of what she was about to hear. "And?"
"We got down in this dark corner. Gerry handed me this little brown pill. He popped it in his mouth, and I …" she trailed off, her eyes distant as if remembering the scene.
"And after you took the pill?"
"But I didn't, see?" Linda lowered her head and let tears drop on the hands folded in her lap. "Gerry took it, but I just pretended to. I don't like to put things in my body when I don't know what they are."
Under less horrible circumstances, Abby might have rolled her eyes at this. Instead, she gently prodded Linda. "So you saw what happened to Gerry?"
The girl nodded, not looking up. "It took a few minutes. At first he got really buzzy, like he was on speed or something. Then he started going on about seeing things – like he was in the jungle or something and there was things lookin' at him. And then … then he just went off his head, you know? Started screaming about monsters chasing him, bugs clawin' at him. Giant snakes and all sort of rubbish. He was running around, trying to get out. I grabbed him and he looked right at me, but it was like he wasn't seeing me, right? His eyes were just crazy and he couldn't' stop hollering. That's when some guys took hold of us and pushed us outside. Gerry took off running down the street and I followed him. He must have run 20 blocks before he keeled over and started twitching in the gutter." Linda was sobbing now. "I started screaming for help and I guess somebody must have heard me, because a couple of minutes later the blues and twos shows up and haul Gerry and me off to hospital. The bozzers were asking me all these questions, trying to get me to tell them what Gerry took and where he got it. I was so freaked out, I couldn't answer them then, and when I got my shit together, I knew I had to keep my mouth shut." She glanced at Abby and sighed. "And then here I am, chunterin' on to you all about it."
"It's okay. You can trust me, I promise." Abby reached over and squeezed her hand.
"I hope so, or when Gerry gets out of here, he'll have my head. Only …" She looked at Abby with genuine fear in her eyes. "I don't think he's getting out, do you? If I could just see him – can you make them let me see him?"
"I don't know. I guess I could try –"
Suddenly the women's attention was drawn back to the front entrance of the hospital as the doors pushed open and Barrington and Sarah appeared, looking around frantically. Barrington caught sight of Abby and Linda and shouted across the lawn to them. "Abigail!" As he began crossing toward them, Linda jumped to her feet and started to leave. Abby grabbed her wrist. "No, don't leave. It's okay – he's my … he's working with me."
Linda pulled her arm away. "I've said too much already."
"Just a second," Abby pleaded, digging into her rucksack for a pen and a slip of paper. She hastily wrote something and handed the note to Linda. "It's my mobile number. Please, feel free to contact me if you have anything else you think I should know. Or just to talk. I really do want to help you."
The girl shoved the paper in the front pocket of her jeans, then reached out to grab Abby's hand for a second. "Thanks for listenin'," she said. "I hope you figure this out." Then she dashed off. Seconds later Barrington and Sarah were beside Abby. Barrington looked angry; Sarah's face showed concern and relief.
"Bloody hell, Abigail. What have you been playing at all this time?" Barrington barked.
"We were worried when you didn't come back," Sarah chided gently.
"Sorry," Abby said, a slightly defensive edge in her voice, "but you needn't act like I'm a toddler who wandered out into traffic. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"No, I'm sorry," Sarah said. "It's just, that place was such a horror. I'm afraid when we couldn't find you we imagined all kinds of terrible things."
Abby smiled apologetically at her friend. "I know, and I intended to come right back as I said, but I ran into this young woman." She gestured in the direction Linda had disappeared. "She's the girlfriend of the guy we came to see. I thought she might have some information. She's pretty upset and confused about what's going on." Abby stood up and started walking toward the carpark where they'd left the SUV. "Did you get anything useful from Gerry – the patient?"
Sarah fell into step beside her. "Nothing but a good sense of what this Gob can do to people. He's completely insensible."
"A gibbering idiot," Barrington added. "He'll be no use to anybody again."
Abby stopped and looked sharply at him. "That's rather a cold way of putting it," she said. "He's a human being, after all. He has people who care about him."
Barrington nodded impatiently. "Yes, of course. I don't mean to be callous. But we've wasted the entire afternoon here and have nothing to show for it."
"Don't be so sure," Abby said as they reached the SUV.
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.
Abby looked around, noting the security cams on fixtures around the lot. "Wait until we've cleared out of here."
They climbed into the vehicle, Sarah behind the wheel, Barrington in the passenger seat and Abby in the back. Once they passed through the security gate and turned into traffic, Abby leaned forward. "Linda, the girlfriend, was with Gerry when he took the drug," she explained. "I got a good description of how it affected him and a general idea of where he got it."
"That's fantastic!" Sarah exclaimed.
Abby nodded. "And there's more." She reached her arm between the two front seats and opened her fist, revealing a small, polystyrene packet Linda had slipped into her hand as she left. Inside was a small, brown tablet.
