Thanks to my Tumblr friend kateschechterxthorwasmyfirstotp for the bit of inspiration during the infamous hospital scene. And, as always, thank you to those of you who have stayed with me on this wild ride. Your encouragement is valued far more than I can say, and I am looking forward to season 2!
Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
Chapter 12: Wild Things - Heart Song
Jackson's life hangs in the balance as Mitch and Jamie race to create the cure for the animal mutation. A Jamie/Mitch rewrite
"How far is the hospital?" Mitch peered worriedly over the front seat at the seeping bullet hole in Jackson's abdomen. He'd seen only a few wounds like that in his short stint in medicine; none of them had ended well.
"The nearest one is in Harare," Abe's voice was as tight as his grip on the steering wheel as he split his attention between his best friend and the road. "It's at least two hours away."
"Okay," Mitch ran some mental calculations. "He needs to lie down. Pull over and let's get him into the back. I'll drive."
"Is that a good idea?" Jamie sounded just as worried as Abe had. "If he needs medical attention, you should be back here with him."
"Abe can keep him talking," Mitch answered. "I can't do anything that would help him at this point other than lie him down and put pressure on the bleeding."
Abe reluctantly slowed to a stop, and Mitch jumped out of the back with Jamie close behind. It took all three of them to move Jackson from the passenger seat to the cargo area. When he was finally situated, Mitch took over driving as Jamie grabbed the map from Ray's bag.
"What road are we on, Abe?" she asked, unfolding the map to get a better view.
"Just keep heading south," Abe said. "This will take us into the city."
It took a moment to adjust being on the wrong side of the car, but his analytical mind worked through the processes quickly and his body adjusted accordingly. "Alright, just keep pressure on that wound." Mitch shifted into first gear with his left hand and eased them back onto the road.
He had never been a devout man, always preferring the tangible, constant sureness that science offered. Things in this world could be measured, touched, seen, heard; blind belief in a greater power that controlled all of these things just wasn't something he could get behind. But as they sped along a road simply labeled "A1" on the map toward a city that may or may not offer some sort of respite, Mitch found himself pleading with the universe or God or whatever might be listening to let his friend live.
For the next fifty miles, the only sounds in the car were Jackson's ragged breaths and Abe's quiet pleas to just hang on a little longer. As it was wont to do whenever he had time on his hands, Mitch's mind began to wander. His life had changed so drastically in just three short months, going from an anti-social veterinarian and part-time teacher to a man who had friends willing to put their lives in his hands. He'd performed surgery without anesthetic on a man he really didn't like, blackmailed a global corporation into giving him experimental drugs to save his daughter's life, and fallen in love with a crusading journalist turned federal fugitive. It all sounded like something out a spy novel. Sometimes, when the others weren't looking, he'd pinch himself just to make sure it was all real.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught Jamie fidgeting with her fingers. Sure that he wasn't going to downshift any time soon, he reached over with his left hand and covered both of hers. She responded immediately, moving one of her hands to cover his as the other intertwined their fingers. She held on tightly, squeezing every so often as she fought to maintain her composure.
"How's he doing?" Mitch asked over his shoulder.
"His breathing is shallow," Abe said, "but he is not struggling."
"It's probably just the pain. Can you see where the bullet hole is?" There was some shuffling, then a hiss of pain from Jackson as Abe replaced Mitch's now-ruined shirt to sop up more of the blood.
"It is on his right side, about halfway between his ribs and his hip bone."
"Okay, it probably missed his liver, but his intestine is likely ruptured. How much is it bleeding?"
"Not as much as I thought it would be," Abe sounded hopeful.
"Sounds like it missed major arteries, too. He might have gotten lucky."
"Lucky would have been not getting shot in the first place," Abe snapped. Mitch didn't take it personally. "Hang on, rafiki."
They traveled a few more minutes in silence before the universe decided things weren't difficult enough. A loud bang startled all of them, and Jamie clenched his hand so tightly he winced.
"What was that?" she cried.
Mitch checked his mirrors and gritted his teeth. A flock of birds was following them, and from the feather stuck to the outside of his door he guessed one of them had dive bombed the car. When he said as much, the others balked.
"Why would they attack a moving vehicle?" Abe asked.
The answer came in the form of a quiet growl from the bag at Abe's feet. Mitch had forgotten all about the leopard cub in the aftermath of their brush with death. Clearly, the animals were not happy about its kidnapping.
"You think they're after the cub?" Jamie whispered, obviously following his thought process despite not having said a word.
"Makes sense," Mitch shrugged his right shoulder. "Remember how we theorized the birds had developed a common language? What if they finally figured out a way to communicate with other animals, too?"
"And, what," Jamie continued his thought with more than a hint of incredulity in her voice, "the leopards sent birds to find their cub to keep us from making the cure that will keep them from taking over the planet?"
"Sounds crazy when you say it like that," Mitch drawled. He shot her a sideways smirk that lasted two seconds before he sobered up. "I don't think it has anything to do with the cure. I'm not sure the animals can understand that. But leopards do have strong maternal instincts, and that cub's mom will be looking for it."
"Well, unless leopards have developed super speed or teleportation, we'll get to Harare before they catch us."
"Don't joke," Mitch warned her, only half-teasingly. There was still so much unknown about the mutations and the effect they were having on the animal kingdom. Mitch had a feeling they had only seen the tip of the iceberg.
Another half hour passed, and another wave of birds crashed into the vehicle. It was no less jarring the second time, and Mitch had to let go of Jamie's hand before she broke something. She turned halfway in her seat to check on Jackson.
"He's really pale," she whispered, though everyone could hear her.
"It's the blood loss," Mitch tried to sound reassuring. "How far away are we?"
Jamie turned back and checked the map. "Looks like we're ten miles from the hospital."
"How's he doing?" He glanced in the rearview at the worried expression on Abe's face.
"Not so good." he answered without looking up from his friend.
Another bird slammed into car, hitting Jamie's window. It held, but she jumped. "That's the third one in an hour."
Mitch lifted his eyes from the road to the swirling black mass that was gathering in the distance. It ebbed and flowed like it was a living creature itself, rather than a formation of them. His scientific mind supplied the term for it automatically. Murmuration. "Yeah, that's the same pattern we saw when we were in Boston," he said.
"We're close, my friend," Abe's voice was soft and soothing as he tried to keep his composure. It didn't last long. "The blood," his tone rose slightly in panic. "The blood is coming through the shirt."
"Keep pressure on it," Mitch pressed a little harder on the gas pedal as if following his own advice. "Nice and even. Don't let him pass out."
"Maybe we should pull over," Jamie suggested, but Mitch shook his head.
"Lot of things I can handle in a pinch," he told her. "The kind of surgery he needs? Not one of them."
Jamie's estimate turned out to be a little long. They reached the city limits of Harare shortly after the last bird attack, but Mitch had to slow down to keep from running over the throng of people fleeing the other direction.
"What's going on?" Jamie asked. "Where are they going?"
"Everybody's leaving town," Mitch edged over as far as he could to let the trucks and carts pass while still maintaining a decent speed. The mass exodus didn't bode well, but Jackson didn't have a choice. He needed a hospital now.
Mitch screeched to a halt just outside the ER doors. He jumped out and moved to help Abe with Jackson as Jamie cradled the cub.
"Grab the electroporator," he tossed over his shoulder as he took Jackson's weight for a moment. Abe shifted to support his uninjured side as Jamie gasped behind them.
"Oh, my God. That's why they're all leaving." Bodies were strewn through the courtyard, and beyond that into the streets. Crocodiles were patrolling, their mouths opened menacingly as they stared down the newcomers. A growl above them drew their attention to a roof across the street, and they all looked up at the lion prowling back and forth. It was surreal, and suddenly Mitch's spy thriller turned into a survival horror.
"We need to get inside now," Mitch told them. He dashed to the doors and pulled hard on the handle. Locked. He tried another as Abe pounded on the glass.
"Open the door! It's an emergency. My friend needs a doctor!"
A man in a white coat saw them, and Mitch noticed his hesitation as he neared the door. He held a shotgun in his hand, his eyes darting over their shoulders to the carnage behind them. After a moment, he pushed the door open just enough to warn them.
"The hospital's closed."
But Abe had had enough. He yanked the door open and dragged Jackson inside. Mitch reached behind him and ushered Jamie through first before closing the door firmly behind him. Patients and staff alike were running scared, screams and cries echoing through the halls. Abe laid Jackson on a nearby gurney as the doctor followed them frantically.
"Did you hear what I said?" he urged. "We are abandoning the hospital. You have to go elsewhere."
"We don't have time," Mitch argued, putting an edge into his voice he hadn't used since his time in med school. "This man's been shot."
The doctor glanced down at the blood coating Jackson's shirt, then frowned. "I can't help him." He sounded genuinely sorry for the fact. "I suggest you drive him to Nyanga."
"That's four hours at least!" Abe protested. Mitch agreed; Jackson didn't have that kind of time.
"I have lost a dozen colleagues and more patients than I can count," the doctor told them. "I am sorry, but I cannot help you."
"You will help him!" It was the first time Mitch had ever heard Abe yell, and the ferocity in his eyes was terrifying to behold. "You understand me? You will help!"
The doctor's answer came as he raised his gun and leveled it at Abe. Mitch saw Jamie flinch and take a step back. He panicked and dove behind the gurney as the doctor squeezed the trigger.
The shot zipped past Abe and ricocheted off the pillar behind him. Mitch turned in time to see a leopard dart away. The doctor lowered his weapon and turned to make sure the patients behind him had made it to safety. He seemed to be debating something internally, and when he turned back to them he'd come to a decision.
"The last ambulance leaves in an hour. I will do the surgery, but beyond that you are on your own."
"Thank you," Abe breathed. The doctor moved to the rear of the gurney and began pushing him toward a side hallway. The sign above the archway listed the departments beyond it; surgery was fourth on the list. Abe followed the gurney silently as Mitch turned to Jamie.
"He's gonna be fine," he stepped close, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. At least he hoped to offer her some comfort. Her eyes were wide with fear, and he could hear how her breaths came in short gasps. "Hey, I need you to breathe. It's gonna be okay. We're going to be fine."
She leaned into his touch and clutched the bag with the cub just a little tighter. "They're inside."
"Jamie," he ducked his head slightly to catch her eyes, "we need to get moving. The doctor said the last ambulance leaves in an hour. We need to be done by then."
"Okay." She took a deep breath then, squaring her shoulders with a quick nod.
Mitch squeezed her arm once more before glancing around. "We need to find a map." He gestured behind her and began running toward a large set of windows. A giant map of the hospital sat just in front of them, complete with the small red dot that read You Are Here. "The hematology lab should have what we need to extract this little guy's stem cells, formulate a cure."
"Hurry, Mitch," she kept close enough to brush against him as he scanned the map for his target. "He's getting scared."
He's not the only one. Running around the hospital with wild animals lurking outside was worrisome enough. Knowing that some of them were inside with them was downright terrifying. "There," he tapped the plastic sheet with two fingers. "Third floor."
They turned and began running for the elevators. Abe met them halfway with a question in his eyes and the shotgun in hand. Mitch directed him to follow, and they were all on edge as they waited for the car to descend. Once inside, all three of them breathed a sigh of relief.
"How long will it take you?" Abe asked as he watched the numbers tick up to three.
"I have no idea," Mitch answered honestly. "I haven't really ever done anything like this. I have no basis for comparison." The elevator dinged and the doors opened revealing a bloody scene.
Abe's grip on the shotgun tightened as he moved slowly into the hallway. "Stay behind me."
Mitch pushed Jamie out next, putting her between him and Abe in case an attack came from the back. They crept down the hall as silently as possible, only stopping when they came upon a body. Jamie immediately averted her eyes as Mitch surveyed the damage. The foot had been completely taken off and was lying some distance away.
"Look," Abe pointed out. "The teeth went straight through the bone. That means leopards."
A low growl echoed down the hallway. Mitch felt every muscle in body tense in response to the threat of imminent death.
"Which way is Hematology?" Jamie knew the answer, but her tone told Mitch she was hoping to be wrong.
He swallowed around the fear in his throat long enough to give her an answering nod. "That way."
Miraculously, they made it to the lab with no leopard attack. As Mitch set the cub working on a chew toy, Abe volunteered to go find a domesticated animal to test the cure on.
"What? No, Abe." Jamie started forward, then stopped. Mitch knew she understood why he had to go, but it made it no less difficult to watch him leave. He promised to be back soon and made sure they locked the door behind him. Jamie stood staring at the closed door for a moment more.
"This is insane," she whispered. Mitch racked his brain for a distraction, something to keep her attention off the fact that one of her friends was on a surgery table and another was headed outside alone with only a single shotgun for backup. His eyes fell on the black bag sitting on the work table.
"So we carted thing thing halfway around the world," he grabbed the strap and turned it around as he unzipped it. "About time we used it."
It worked. She turned from the door and moved to stand beside him. "This thing has to work...for any good to come out of all of this." From the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head and drop her chin slightly. "I know it's selfish, but ever since my mom died this has been my life. This is literally my last chance to finally get justice and make Reiden pay for what they did."
"So, no pressure then." He meant it as a joke, but from the horrified expression on her face he'd failed. "Listen," he swiveled his stool to face her, "there's no reason to think this won't work. The science is sound and we have what we need. But in case it doesn't," he reached out for her hand and held it firmly, "I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. If this doesn't work, we'll find another way."
He was rewarded with a teary smile, one that seemed to light up her whole face. She gripped his fingers gratefully, her eyes saying everything she couldn't seem to get past her lips.
Finally she stepped back and wiped her eyes, indicating the spread of scientific equipment in front him. "Let's get to work, then." Mitch pulled out the two pieces of the electroporator, handing a cord to Jamie as he set them where he could get to them quickly. She plugged it in and went to check on the cub as he was calibrating.
"Oh my God. Mitch, here's a tooth."
"You're kidding me, already?" He'd expected it to take longer. He took it as a sign that things were looking up. He took the rubber heart from her and grabbed a pair of forceps from a drawer. "Bet you never thought we'd be saving the world with a tooth and a rubber heart." She laughed - quietly, but a laugh nonetheless. Mitch took that as a good sign, too.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked as he began grinding the tooth in a bowl.
"No," he shook his head. "This process has to be completely sterile for it to be viable. The less hands involved the better."
"How long do you think it will take Abe to find an animal?" Her natural inquisitiveness turned into nervous rambling in times of stress - he knew that - but it didn't make it any less distracting. He pressed his lips together to keep from snapping at her, concentrating on transferring what he needed to a slide. He had to make sure there were usable stem cells before they started this whole process; if not they would need another tooth. He heard her inhale to ask another question, and finally his patience waned.
"Jamie, I need to concentrate here," he tried to keep his tone as even as possible. "Abe will be fine. Jackson will be fine. We will be fine. But if I make a mistake, if one little thing goes wrong, the cure will not work." The pressure of that statement washed over him as he said the words. He'd known there was a lot riding on this plan - she'd all but said as much - but the fact of the matter was it was really all riding on him. He was the only one who could do this; it's why he was on the team in the first place.
"Okay," she whispered. She kept her distance, watching as he set up the slide with the precision of years of practice. He let out a breath when it was finished and grabbed the microscope. He could feel her eyes on him as he put the slide under the lens, and as he inspected his work she came a little closer.
For a moment he feared it hadn't worked - that the tooth had been no good - but then he saw what he needed. He sighed in relief and leaned back. "Good news is we got some viable stem cells here. So our little friend has done his part."
As if on cue, the cub began mewling. "He's crying so much," Jamie moved over to the small creature, grabbing him before he could make a leap for the table. "You don't think it's a call do you?"
"Why don't you try closing the bag?" Then, because that had come out a little harsher than he'd intended, he continued. "Maybe he shares my aversion to hospitals."
"Is that why you dropped out of med school?" She gently placed the cub back in the bag and pulled the zipper closed. He cried a bit more and rolled around inside as Jamie stepped away from the table and closer to Mitch.
"No," Mitch grabbed the rest of the tooth's remnants and began preparations for the cure. He'd already ground up what he needed from the Mother Cell, now he just needed to combine them. "I never liked hospitals. But I think it was the patients that finally did me in." She looked at him curiously, and he could see the question she wanted to ask. "Will you hand me one of those cuvettes over there?" he pointed to a tray of empty tubes on the far side of the room.
"Which one?"
"The square tube with the lid on it," he directed, and she plucked one from its place and handed it to him. "I didn't hate the patients," he forced himself to keep talking as he worked. It went against his usual method, but it seemed to be putting her at ease. And, he told himself, he was good enough to multitask. At least he hoped so. "I just hated their pain. Their tears. Their family's tears." He paused as he measured precise parts into the tube and mixed them. "You shut down your emotions for long enough, you don't want to spend all day with somebody else's."
"Does it bother you when I talk about my mother?"
Mitch thought back to that night he'd taken her to Tom Bergin's after his class. She'd surprised him by accepting his invitation, then surprised him further by opening up about her hometown and her mother's cancer. He'd been unusually receptive, listening to her and sympathizing in a way he'd never done with anyone else.
"No," he told her honestly. "From the moment I met you, Jamie, you've been the exception." He smiled at their own little private joke, and she returned it. "Before you came along, I could count on one hand the number of people who gave a damn about me, that I actually cared about. I spent my days at the zoo and my nights at the college and that was it. I was surviving, but I wasn't living."
He placed his glasses back on his face as he stood to move to the electroporator. He inserted the cuvette and pressed a few buttons. When he looked back up, she had an odd look on her face. He was terrible with emotions, most especially his own, and he hoped he hadn't said anything wrong. She was shuffling closer but remained silent, her face still unreadable. He began to panic.
"Jamie, I'm...I'm not really great when it comes to stuff like this. Honestly, it's one of the main reasons things never worked out between me and Audra. She always wanted me to talk about my feelings, and I always wanted her to stop talking about hers. But there is something I want to say, and I better say it now before it all goes south."
"Shut up," she closed the remaining distance between them quickly, kissing him before he could get another word out. There was something different about this kiss, something primal and deep that made Mitch respond immediately. He tugged her forward, settling her between his legs as she very nearly devoured him. Her hands were everywhere, traveling the expanse between his shoulders, then around to his chest before sliding up through his hair. He kept pace with her but didn't press further, letting her maintain control.
When he'd been thoroughly kissed she pulled away a few inches and sucked in a deep breath. "Thank you," she whispered against his lips. Her forehead rested against his, and he could feel every rough exhale puff against his cheek.
"Mmm," he forced his eyes open but hers were still closed. "I was going to say that."
That opened them, and she put a little more distance between them but didn't release the hold she had of his shoulders. "Why?"
"For dragging me into this insanity," he told her half-jokingly. Then, a bit more seriously, "For giving me the courage to save my daughter. And for reminding me that it's okay to feel. And look," he shifted his hands to frame her hips, pushing her just a bit further to look into her eyes, "I know you couldn't save your mother, but the truth is...you kind of saved me."
He felt her hand lift from his shoulder and settle against the side of his face. Her thumb traced the curve of his cheek bone and he fought the urge to close his eyes under her ministrations. Her eyes were darting back and forth, like she was trying to memorize his face through the tears that had gathered there. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his forehead tenderly.
"You saved me, too," she said when she moved back. "You were the first person in...in a long, long time to really listen to me. To believe me. All my life people have been telling me how crazy I was, how useless it was to fight something as big as Reiden. I'd heard them for so long that I'd started to actually believe them. You gave me the best gift I have ever received: faith in myself."
Mitch was speechless. He was sure if he could form a coherent sentence his brain would supply some snarky comment about it being a once in a lifetime moment. Instead he gaped idiotically as she lifted her other hand to his face and leaned in for another kiss. They were interrupted by the machine next to them, a high pitched beep alerting them that it had completed its task. Jamie kissed him once more, a quick promise of more to come, and stepped back.
"Alright," Mitch carefully pulled the cuvette from the electroporator and snapped the lid closed. "Well, here we go. This is it." He held it up to the light, then out for her inspection. "Hope to God we were right."
She smiled, her eyes suddenly alight with excitement. She dashed for the door, her fears of failure forgotten. "I have to find Jackson."
He realized what she was doing a split second too late. She opened the door eagerly and came face to face with a leopard. All thoughts of the cure and saving the world vanished as Mitch gazed at the distance between him and Jamie. If his hand hadn't already been clamped around the cure, he'd likely have forgotten it in his scramble to reach for her, to put himself between her and the deadly predator. Thankfully she instinctively leapt towards him, close enough that he could reach out and grab her arm. She'd probably have a bruise later from the force with which he hauled her bodily backward and behind him. The leopard crept closer, its eyes alert and zeroed in on its prey. Mitch slowly backed up, feeling Jamie at his back as he took one step, then another. The leopard kept coming.
Later, Mitch would make a mental note to personally thank whoever had designed that lab. With the workstation in the middle, Mitch was able to carefully maneuver them around the island toward the door. As he moved, he searched desperately for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately hospital labs were woefully short on anything larger than an aspirating needle.
They were almost to the door. A few more steps and Jamie would be in the hall. Mitch debated shoving her through, taking the attack to give her enough time to get away. He could send the cure with her, give her a chance along with the rest of the world. But even as he worked through it, he knew it wouldn't work. The leopards weren't attacking to eat; they were attacking to kill. It would likely just take him down then go after her. He needed a distraction, something to stop the attack before it happened.
His eyes fell on the fire alarm just to his right. The leopard gathered itself up, the muscles in its hind legs coiling to pounce. They were out of time. Mitch reached out blindly, ripping the plastic cover off even as Jamie protested.
"Wait, Mitch, the Mother Cell." What was left of it sat in a petri dish on the table. There was no way to get to it.
"Forget it. Let's go!" He pulled the handle, hoping this hospital had the same fire countermeasures as other hospitals he'd been in. The shrill bell was deafening as white fog came pouring from the ceiling. Mitch turned and pushed Jamie, who had at least had the sense to grab the pack with the cub as she passed. He could hear the leopard on their heels, but the fire alarm had given them just enough of a head start. Mitch slammed the door closed behind them as Abe came running up the corridor.
"What's happened?"
"The leopards, they came after the cub," Mitch told him. "And, call me crazy," he shot a look at Jamie, "but that's gotta be what the birds were doing, too."
She ignored his jab. "Abe, we lost the Mother Cell."
"And the cure?" Abe glanced down at the small container in Mitch's hand. He'd managed to slip the cuvette into a hard shell case not much bigger than the one he had back home for his glasses.
"This is it," Mitch held it up. "It's all we got. One shot, maybe two."
"I found a dog," he told them. "I put him one of the patient rooms."
"If this doesn't work…" Jamie trailed off.
Abe shrugged one shoulder. "Only one way to find out."
But it did work. No one was more surprised than Mitch when, after a second exposure orally rather than injected into its haunches, the dog whined and sat down obediently. Taking a risk, albeit a calculated and small one, Mitch knelt down and reached for the dog's head. He whined again, a single thump from his tail the only indication of his mood. Mitch settled his fingers under his neck, scratching lightly at first. When he didn't lose a finger, his touch became more confident. Mitch sighed in relief as he continued to pet the touch-starved dog.
"Good boy," he whispered. "Good boy." The dog seemed as happy as they were. Mitch wondered if domesticated animals like dogs knew something was wrong, knew they weren't supposed to be behaving like they were, but couldn't help it. It was an interesting theory, but one he would need to think about later. "You better find Jackson," he glanced back at Abe. "We gotta get this stuff home."
The cure worked. It was the best news Mitch had gotten in a long time, trailed in a very close second by the call they'd gotten from Chloe. She was safe in Washington. Jamie hadn't elaborated much on her phone call past that, but Mitch didn't care. Things were finally working out, and there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
"I will go get Jackson," Abe said. "You two find us a way out of this hospital."
"What about him?" Jamie had come over to pet the pup, her fingers sifting through his dark fur happily.
"I will come get him after I get Jackson. I promised his owner I would either save him and return him, or shoot him myself."
Jamie stood with a smile. "Well, I'm glad this story has a happy ending."
Mitch tucked what was left of the cure back into the case. "We need to go." Jamie moved to grab the cub again, but Mitch stopped her. "I'll get him. You've been carrying him the whole time." He offered her the small case and gathered the duffel in his arms. Jamie led the way through the corridors to the elevators as Abe veered off the other direction in search of Jackson.
With the ambulances already gone, their best bet for leaving the hospital was the way they had come in. Mitch guessed their jeep was probably still sitting right where he'd parked it. Next to him, Jamie was very nearly vibrating with pent up energy - no doubt a combination of excitement over the cure and fear for their lives. The moment the doors slid open on the ground floor they were out like a shot.
"We gotta get out of here," Mitch followed her down the hall, his strides only slightly hindered by the bundle in his arms.
"The lobby's this way," she directed, falling slightly behind him as they rounded the last corner.
He saw it first, and instinct caused him to freeze in his tracks. Jamie's momentum carried her a step past him, but the loud growl from the leopard at the front door made her jump back. Mitch turned, silently indicating they should go back the other way. A second leopard stepped out from the hallway they'd just come from, trapping them and causing them to huddle together in the center of the hall.
"Oh my God," Jamie breathed.
Mitch stepped closer, staying sideways to keep both animals in his peripheral without staring at them directly. He saw Jamie shift her weight back and forth, and he pitched his voice low in warning. "Don't move."
"Do we run?" she asked, glancing back and forth. The leopards were creeping closer, closing off any avenue of escape.
"No," he closed his eyes briefly, frantically trying to come up with a way out. "If we do, they'll take us down."
The truth was, there was no way out. Mitch thought about letting the cub go; it might be enough of a distraction that he could at least get Jamie to the elevators. But there wasn't enough time.
Not enough time. It was a cruel truth that had a far deeper meaning than their impending deaths. He'd only known Jamie for three months, loved her for less than that. It wasn't enough. If he'd lived a hundred years he still would feel the same, but for fate to throw them together and have it end like this was just cruel. He forced himself to ignore the threats surrounding them, to make himself look at her. If they died, he wanted her face to be the last thing he saw.
I never told her I love her. The thought flashed viciously through his mind and for a moment he thought the leopards had finally pounced. But the pain in his chest came from within, his regret multiplying tenfold as he realized he'd never said the words. Mitch remembered her confession, replayed that moment over and over in head a million times a day. His answer had been cowardly, a simple me, too when she'd bravely laid her heart bare. He tried to force the words out now, to utter them in the silence that seemed to stretch on. But they wouldn't come. She knows, he told himself. It was a hollow consolation.
Her soft touch was like a whisper on his skin. Her fingers curled into his and he held on, trying to tell her through their connection what he couldn't seem to say out loud. Her grip was like a vice but he didn't care. His last moments in this life would be with her, and anything he could do to lessen the terror in her eyes would be worth breaking every bone in his body.
Suddenly the tension snapped, but it didn't come in the form of a leaping predator. Glass shattered and instinct made him duck, taking her with him and covering her smaller body with his own. He expected an angry roar but heard only a faint hiss, then the sound of boots.
"Tranq em!" Another hiss, then a soft thud as the dart hit its mark. "Secure!"
Mitch dared a glance up, not quite sure he was really seeing what was going on. A dozen or so men decked in full military garb were moving purposefully toward them. One stopped and crouched next to them, laying a hand on Jamie's back.
"Unit two secure!"
Another voice answered from the door. "Extract! Lock it down!"
Jamie looked up, her eyes still wide and fearful. "What's happening?"
"Looks like the cavalry's here," Mitch said. The man who'd come to them began ushering them up and out. Mitch kept hold of Jamie's hand as they were escorted out the front doors and into the streets. The courtyard had been cleared of bodies, and Mitch couldn't see any animals around. Large military vehicles dotted the area, accompanied by what was left of the local police force and almost thirty men dashing off in various directions.
Mitch's brain asked a dozen questions at once. He settled on the most pressing. "Not that we're not incredibly grateful," he followed their rescuer to a set of trucks sitting near the door, "but where did you guys come from?"
"We're the 74th Special Tactics Squadron," the man answered tersely. The stripes on his sleeve probably signified his rank, but Mitch was clueless when it came to anything military related. He settled mentally on sergeant. "Our orders are to get you out of here."
"Okay, listen, there were two others with us," he adjusted the bundle in his arms as they walked away from the hospital toward safety. "They're still -"
"Look, Jackson!" Jamie interrupted, pointing to a spot a little further up. Mitch followed her finger and found Abe and Jackson walking toward them with the cured dog.
Mitch was overcome with the urge to hug both of them. The feeling startled him and he settled for a relieved smile. "You look like hell."
Jackson laughed slightly, still clutching his right side. "Thanks." He looked past his friends to the man escorting them. "Listen, up there with me there were three kids."
"Already on their way to Nyanga," he answered. "We'll track down their parents."
"How'd you know we were here?" Jackson asked.
"All I'm authorized to say is your location was provided by a French national." Chloe. She'd saved them. Mitch shared a knowing smile with his friends, noting how Jackson's pain seemed to disappear for a moment. "We're gonna get you to Johannesburg and from there on a flight to D.C."
"I made a promise," Abe spoke up for the first time. "Can you spare two men to take him back home?" He lifted the chain in his hands that led to the dog sitting quietly at his side.
"You serious?" the sergeant glanced hesitantly at the animal.
"Yeah."
The soldier sighed and reached out for the chain. Mitch noticed how he kept his body back despite the layers of armor he was wearing. It would have been funny if the meaning behind it wasn't so tragic. They needed to get this cure home now.
"Let's move." They followed the man to a pair of trucks already running. Each had a driver and a passenger armed with a rather large rifle, both sporting full body armor and dour expressions.
"Lends new meaning to the word 'shotgun,'" Mitch joked.
"It's the original meaning, actually," Jamie corrected. At Mitch's look, she just shrugged and pulled open the back door. "I'm a journalist; I know weird stuff."
Mitch made to follow her, but was stopped by two men. For a moment he feared they were being split up, separated to be debriefed or whatever the hell it was that the military did after something horrific happened. He squared his shoulders, ready to resist tooth and nail. There was no way in hell he was leaving his friends alone.
"Sir, we need that bag," one of them said.
Mitch shook his head once and lifted his chin. "No, this stays with me. You have no idea how important this little guy is."
"We have our orders, sir," the other said. Mitch guessed he wasn't a day over twenty. "He's to be put in a secure crate and escorted back to the states by…" He trailed off, digging into a small pocket on his vest for the notepad there. He consulted a page and nodded. "Mitch Morgan?"
"That's me," Mitch used his free hand to wave. Chloe must have pulled some major strings.
The soldier nodded and stuffed the notepad back into its pocket. "We have the crate ready." He turned slightly to reveal a small brown crate behind him. It was small enough to still be carried, but it was definitely more secure than the bag he was currently living in.
"Alright." Mitch walked away from the car. "I'll do it." He took a moment to check the cub's vitals and give him some water. "He'll need food soon."
"We'll make sure you get something on the plane," the young man said. Jamie had come out of the car to help, and she held the empty bag as Mitch lifted the crate. She got in first and reached out, settling it between them on the seat as Mitch climbed in. Abe and Jackson had already been loaded into the other truck, and once Mitch's door was closed the caravan sped away.
The trucks were apparently a means to get to the helicopter sitting half a mile away. Mitch had never been in one, and judging from his friends' expressions they hadn't either. Abe and Mitch helped Jackson up into the aircraft and settled him into a seat as the crate was placed in the center and strapped down with a large net. Mitch buckled himself into the seat next to Jamie then took her hand. He knew she hated boats and the moments of takeoff and landing on plane rides. He imagined a helicopter ride was on her list of things to avoid at all costs.
"We're almost home," she whispered so quietly, Mitch thought she might have just been reassuring herself. But when he glanced over she was beaming at him, and he couldn't help but smile back.
"We're just one more really long plane ride away." She laughed and squeezed his hand as the helicopter lifted suddenly from the field. "Breathe."
She glared at him half-heartedly before turning her attention to the two men across from them. "Jackson, what happened up there?
They listened as he recounted his story, from the moment he woke up to the arrival of the strike team. He had to pause at several intervals to catch his breath, and Abe produced a pack of medicine for him to take once he'd finished.
"You must remember to take these on time, Jackson," he scolded.
"Thanks." He asked one of their escorts for water, and they were all given bottles. Mitch was grateful but it did little for the pang in his stomach. It had been a long time since their last meal.
"I hope that plane has good food," he said. "I'm starving."
Their landing was just as sudden as their takeoff. Mitch guessed military pilots didn't really have time for gentle when a mission was in full swing, but the jarring stop made Jackson wince. They'd landed on an airfield about a hundred yards from a large airliner. Someone had cast a giant net over the whole terminal, tethered to the buildings around it. It was an impressive feat of engineering improvisation, and closer inspection proved that they had strung several nets together to achieve it.
"Birds kept dive bombing passengers as they were loading," one of the men explained. "This was the solution we came up with."
Jamie stopped next to him and peered up. "How many people died getting it up there?"
"No deaths, ma'am," the soldier responded. "A few nasty cuts and bruises. One of my buddies lost part of his ear."
Mitch glanced over in time to see two new soldiers lifting the crate from the helicopter. One of them stumbled and nearly dropped it onto the tarmac.
"Careful with that!" Mitch barked, leaving Jamie's side to oversee the transport.
The young man looked startled at the sight of a disheveled civilian barreling toward him with all the bluster and authority of a three-star general, but he recovered quickly. "Sir, we've got it handled."
"Obviously not, or I wouldn't have yelled," Mitch shot back. "I'll take that." He reached for the container, only a little surprised when they didn't stop him. He hoisted it up against his chest and walked back over to his friends. "Let's get out of here."
They managed to snag two whole sides for themselves only a row apart. Abe and Jackson took one as Mitch put the cub in the window seat of the other. Jamie took the middle seat and buckled in, and Mitch spared only a glance at the back of the cabin before settling in beside her. Her hands were fidgeting in her lap as her eyes danced around. He guessed the shock of their near death experience was finally hitting her and he racked his brain for a solution.
"If you want," he leaned over, "I can go see about pilfering some of those adorable little bottles that haven't grown up yet. Might calm your nerves."
"I'm okay." She didn't look at him, and for a moment he thought about doing it anyway. God knew he could use a drink right now. Then she turned her head and smiled, a warm curve of her lips that reached all the way to her eyes, and his worry vanished. "Really," she gestured to his own still-unbuckled belt, "I'm okay."
He buckled it and tightened the strap before slipping his fingers between hers. "Listen," he stared at their joined hands, trying to summon the courage he needed to say what was on his mind. "I just…" The engines began to rumble as the plane backed away from the terminal. Mitch took several deep breaths as he felt the vibrations through his body. He told himself it was the plane and not his nerves making him shake so roughly, but he imagined his own system was beginning to feel the effects of their adventures.
"Mitch?" Jamie's tone was part curious, part concern. Before her brilliant mind could veer off on a completely incorrect course, he lifted his head and stared directly into her eyes.
"I love you." She took a breath - no doubt to return the sentiment - but Mitch rushed forward before his bravery fled. "I realized earlier that I never told you, never actually said the words. And then, the leopards showed up and the only thing I could think about was how we were going to die and you'd never hear me say them. So I wanted to tell you." It sounded extremely lame in his head, and he cringed mentally as the words replayed. But it was out there now, and judging from the smile that was slowly stretching her face he hadn't completely screwed the whole thing up.
"I knew," she assured him. "You never said it, but you told me anyway. The way you held me after the whole Ben fiasco, when you told me the truth about your deal with Reiden even knowing how much it would hurt me, how you protected me in Zambia and at the hospital...you may not have said the actual words, but you let me know every day that you love me."
Mitch stared at her in wonder. Forget fate and miracles, he mused, this woman is a gift from God.
"Still," she continued with a wry smile, "it's nice to hear."
He smiled with her, erasing the last of the tension that had gathered in his chest. Mitch brought their joined hands up to brush a kiss on her fingers as the plane lifted away from the earth. Finally, they were on their way home.
"So what are you going to do when we get home?" he asked her. "After the cure is disseminated, I mean."
"I don't know," she shrugged her far shoulder. She turned her head to look at the crate next to her. The cub had been unusually quiet. "I haven't really thought that far ahead."
"I know what you mean," he smiled. Been doing that a lot, Mitchell. It feels good.
"We should probably find your mom." Her words surprised him, and she squeezed his hand where it rested in hers. "Then I'd like to visit my aunt and uncle - make sure they're okay."
Mitch remembered the couple he'd met at Jamie's invitation all those months ago. "I'm sure they're fine." They were survivors, and Mitch had no doubt they were holding their own in Folsom. "But we'll find a way to check on them." Mitch marveled at the ease with which I and you had become we. He liked it.
"Do you think you'll get your zoo job back?"
"I don't even know if the zoo will still be operational," Mitch answered. "According to the news reports, most of the animals broke out of their enclosures. It's going to take some time for things to settle back down."
"Will you stay in L.A.?" There was something under her tone, something that felt a lot like hope.
"I don't know," he told her. "Martial Law was declared; I don't think anybody's living in L.A. for a while."
"Then you should come to Louisiana," she stated firmly. "You and your mom. We can stay at my uncle's house until we sort everything out."
Mitch had no doubt Bo Armstrong would honor his niece's invitation. He thought about that for a moment, tried to picture what it would be like. He could wake up every morning with her next to him, far away from the craziness this world had become. He had to admit, it had appeal.
"That sounds like a great idea."
She nodded in agreement and laid her head on his shoulder. He turned slightly and kissed the crown of her head before laying his cheek against it. They stayed that way until the seatbelt sign dimmed and attendants came by with bright smiles to take drink and dinner orders. Jamie ordered the veggie plate. Mitch ordered something alcoholic. The attendant returned with their drinks first, depositing two cups, a can of soda and two small bottles of whiskey on Mitch's tray table.
"They're holding out on me," Mitch grumbled. "I know they've got vodka stashed back there somewhere."
Jamie pushed up and craned her head to peer over the back of her chair. "No one's back there now. I can distract them."
"Don't tempt me," he pulled the tab on the soda and divided it up between the two cups as Jamie opened the tiny whiskey bottles. "Should we toast our success?" he asked once the whiskey had been added.
"No," Jamie shook her head. "Let's not jinx it. We still have to get back to the states and mass produce it. Not to mention the tiny dilemma of distribution."
"Okay," he cut her off before she could work herself up. "Then what should we toast?"
She didn't answer at first, but Mitch didn't worry. He knew her well enough now to recognize her thinking face. When she smiled, he knew she'd found something.
"To missing cats in Brentwood."
He couldn't help it. The laugh bubbled up before he could stop it, and it filled the space between them as it erupted from his throat. He tried to bite down on it, to at least stop it short. But her declaration had been so deliberate and so unexpected that it was too late. He opened his mouth to apologize, to tell her that her toast was perfect and please don't be mad at him...only she didn't look angry. If he had to put a name to it, he'd called it proud delight.
"Sorry," he said anyway. "That was just...not what I was expecting."
"It's okay," she was grinning ear to ear now, and Mitch wondered what was going on in her head. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
He had a million things to say to that, but none of them seemed right for the light, easy tone she had struck. So he tapped the rim of his plastic cup against hers and returned her smile. "To missing cats in Brentwood."
Dinner came, and with it two more drinks for each of them. Mitch ordered a small steak (raw, of course) which he promptly let Jamie feed to the leopard. She cooed at the little guy like a puppy, and Mitch had to remind her that he was probably headed for a zoo or a sanctuary just as soon as they had what they needed from him.
"Can we not return him to the wild?" Jamie asked.
"Maybe," Mitch didn't want to say no outright. "Remember, we took him from his mother before he could learn how to hunt properly. It's likely if we release him, he won't know enough to survive on his own." He downed the last of his drink and waved off the attendant's silent offer of another. He noticed Jamie had barely touched hers, and after a quick question and her answering gesture he finished that one, too.
Alcohol had always had an odd effect on him. He never got angry or goofy or stupid like some of his college acquaintances. No, Mitch Morgan was a philosophical drunk. All the thoughts that swirled in his head with no evidence or hard facts to support them came tumbling out. Thankfully, his tolerance was sufficiently high that the few shots of whiskey he'd had were just enough to alleviate the ache in his limbs that had settled in after their near-death experience and not quite enough for his innermost thoughts to come spilling out.
Jamie, it seemed, was a sleepy drunk.
She wriggled in her seat, obviously searching for a comfortable position, before her head once again found a place on his shoulder and she nodded off without so much as a mumbled goodnight. He chuckled and turned off their overhead light, leaning his head back against his seat to follow her.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain." An announcement woke Mitch from his light doze. Next to him, Jamie was struggling to sit up straighter in her chair as the pilot continued. "We've been informed that due to some unusual migratory behavior, this air space has been closed."
"What's going on?" Jamie asked sleepily. "What migratory behavior?"
"We've been diverted to -" But the captain never finished his sentence. A horrible rending tore through the fuselage, and the entire top of the plane was suddenly ripped away. Mitch's breath stole from his lungs as he was very violently tossed about in his seat. If he hadn't been strapped in, he probably would have been killed instantly. He heard Jamie scream, and even though she was right next to him she sounded so far away. He tried to turn his head to look at her, but the rest of the jet was in a free fall spin and the force kept his head pinned to his seat.
Mitch slammed his eyes closed and reached blindly for the woman next to him. Her fingers clamped on his arm and held on as the pilots somehow regained control. They weren't spinning any longer, but they were still going down. Mitch guessed from the vast expanse of black beneath them that they were over the ocean. He spared a thought for Abe and Jackson, a row ahead and an eternity away. The cries of terror from the other passengers seemed to echo around him, but he couldn't take a breath to speak.
At least I told her, he tried to ease the despair that was consuming him. She knows.
He tried to say it again, to shout the words into the chaotic tempest around them. His mouth moved to form the words, but his voice wouldn't cooperate. Over and over he mouthed those three words, repeated them like a silent prayer. Finally, in what Mitch believed were his final seconds on this earth, his lungs took in a gulp of air and his last breath was spent on her name.