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Adrenaline

By John B. Olson

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Chapter 1

PARKER

It had to be a mistake. James Parker sat paralyzed, watching as a jagged line plunged and leaped across his computer monitor. No... It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Ray had botched the experiment. Put a healthy control mouse in the wrong cage. That had to be it.
He tapped the escape key and scrolled back through the data for mouse 87. If the data was from a control mouse, it should stay at the same level throughout the--
His hands crumpled to the keyboard. The signal. It had started out flat. The entire first day of the experiment. And then, halfway through the second day, it started to rise, jumping more and more as the mouse’s movements grew more pronounced.
The computer screen went suddenly hazy. The mouse’s movements? As in walking? Was it possible? He switched the display back to real-time mode. No doubt about it. The line was twitching like a coffee drinker on Rage. Without taking his eyes off the screen he flopped his hand across the desktop and hit the speed dial on his speaker phone. The phone picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?” His mother’s worried voice.
“Mom, you’re not going to believe this. I’ve got a moving mouse.”
“James? Is everything okay? It’s after eleven o’clock.”
“Mom, I’ve got it. I’ve finally found a lead! I’m watching the motion detector read-out right now. A five month old muscular dystrophy mouse. It couldn’t even pick itself off the floor of the cage when we started the experiment. But now it’s moving like crazy. More than the controls.”
“Honey, that’s… wonderful.” Her voice trailed off.
“Mom, this is for real. The signal’s way above the noise. And this batch of compounds-- they came from the new docking studies.” He scrolled over to the data for mouse 87. Adrenaline 355. He knew it! “It’s one of the adrenaline analogs. Remember the ones I was telling you about?”
“That’s great.” Her voice sounded flat.
“I can’t believe this!” Parker cried out. “You should see the motion indicator. It’s pegging the top of the chart! Can I talk to Jenny? Has she gone to bed yet?”
Silence.
“She won’t mind being woken up. You know she won’t. She’d kill me if I waited till morning.”
“James, I… Jenny can’t…”
“It’s okay. I won’t get her hopes up. I won’t be able to check on the mouse until tomorrow morning when Ray comes in—if he bothers to show up. Today makes the fifth day this month he’s missed work. I ought to—”
“James...”
Something in his mom’s voice sent a chill through his body. Jenny… Something was wrong.
“James, your sister is back in the hospital. Your father and I just got back. We were going to call you but--”
“The hospital?” His mind raced in a thousand terrifying directions. “She’s going to be okay, right? Her heart’s fine. They just got back the tests.”
“She’s in stable condition, but her heart’s very weak. And it’s only going to get weaker. Her muscular dystrophy is accelerating.”
“But my experiment… Adrenaline 355. It could help her. I know it could.”
“Maybe.” Her voice choked off. “Maybe it’s God’s answer to our prayers.”
“I know it is. You should see the motion detector. It’s—” Parker looked back up at the screen. The line had taken a sharp nose-dive to the bottom of the screen. Flat line. Not even a squiggle.
“Parker?”
He checked the x-axis. The chart was still scrolling. It couldn’t be the network connection...
“Parker? Are you okay? Parker?”
“Mom, I’ve got to go. Something just happened. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”
“Parker, what’s—”
“Love you. Bye.” He stretched out a pronated hand and swatted an over-sized button on his speaker phone. Dragging his arm back across the desk, he grabbed his joystick control and swung his wheelchair in a tight half circle. He jammed down on the joystick and the wheelchair leaped forward, racing across his laboratory and out into the hallway of the deserted chemistry building.
The adrenaline was working. It had to be. Something was just blocking the motion sensor. That was it. Maybe the mouse was moving so much it vibrated the sensor loose. There were millions of explanations. He stopped outside the elevator and jabbed at the down button, toggling his footrests up and down as he waited for the elevator to arrive.
“Finally!” The doors slid open with a ding and he guided his chair inside. “Come on!” He punched the ‘D’ button for the lower basement five times before the doors finally closed. The elevator took a lifetime to reach the basement.
“Come on!” The doors opened and he darted out into a dimly lit hallway. He sped down the corridor, making his way toward the vivarium facility that housed his animal room. Raising his footrests all the way, he rammed into the swinging doors at the vivarium entrance. No time to change into sterile scrubs. He guided his chair to the door of his animal room and inserted a key into the lock. Pulling down on the L-shaped handle with both hands, he pushed against the door.
No good. The air pressure inside the lab was pushing against him. “Hello? Anybody down here?” His voice echoed through the empty hallways. Inching his wheelchair back a little, he jammed down on the joystick and rammed into the door. “Hello? Anybody at all?” He rammed the door again. He was running out of time, and it was all his fault. After all the battles he’d fought to have assistive doors installed on campus, he’d been too cheap to spend grant money on the door to his own animal room.
Holding the knob open with a trembling left hand, he spun his chair around and smacked his footrest into the door. The door popped open with a swoosh of escaping air. Before it could close, he angled his wheelchair into the gap, wedging the door further and further open. He was in!
Parker hurried across the animal room to the high rack of mouse cages that lined the back wall. A tangle of black cables cascaded down the front of the rack, connecting each cage's motion sensor to the monitoring station in the corner of the lab. He scanned the ID numbers on the metal tags hanging at the front of each cage. Wouldn't you know it. It was on the second row from the top. Too high up for him to reach without help.
He crossed the room and pulled two wooden dowels from the workstation. One short and one long. It had been over a year since he’d used the poles to pull an overhead cage out of the rack. He wasn’t sure he could still do it--even using the dowels. He positioned his chair beneath cage 87 and reached up with the long pole. Guiding it with both hands, he managed to flip open the flag-like latch that secured the cage in place. Then, hooking the dowel under the lip of the bottom tray, he slid the cage out of its slot, inch after inch after painstaking inch. When the cage was almost halfway out, he reached up with the short dowel and wedged its tip into a circular slot in the bottom of one corner of the cage.
Almost there... He eased the cage further out until the two slots at the back of the cage were exposed. Carefully transferring the long dowel to the slot in the far corner, he was just about to pull the cage from the rack when it dipped sharply, twisting the short dowel from his grasp.
Grabbing the long pole with both hands, he jammed it up into the base of the cage as the short dowel clattered to the floor. For a heart-stopping second, he thought the cage was going to crash down on him. His arms trembled violently. If the cage fell it could crush the life out of any chance he had to determine what had happened to mouse 87.
Parker tore his eyes from the suspended cage. The short dowel lay on the floor about a foot away from his chair. Wedging the base of the long pole against the cushion of his chair, he leaned over, straining with outstretched fingers. No good. The dowel was a good six inches away.
"Dear God, please..." Parker extended his arm until his ribs ached, but it was too far away. If the mouse was still alive... If the adrenaline analog had actually given it strength, even for a few hours...
He sat up and clung to the pole with both hands, hugging it to his chest while above him, suspended by the force he applied to the pole, hung the life of his only sister.


DARCY

"Jason, no!" Darcy reached for the door of Jason's new Miata. "I really have to go. I've got work to do."
"But it's after midnight on a Thursday night." Jason leaned in closer. "The chemistry library's dark. Nobody's there. Let me give you a ride home."
Darcy turned to survey the dark buildings that made up the chemistry complex. "They just forgot to turn on the entrance lights. The stacks and carrels are probably full of students."
"Darcy, it's midnight. Trust me, nobody's there."
"No problem." Darcy pushed open the door and started to get out. "Lee-Hong works late. He can give me a ride home."
Jason reached over and caught her by the forearm. "I saw Lee-Hong this morning. He said he's never given you a ride. He doesn't even own a car."
Darcy slumped back into her seat, stealing a glance at Jason out of the corner of her eye. He didn't seem mad. Not really. Just a little confused. She flipped open the mirror on the visor and pretended to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. Confused was good. She could definitely work with confused. She turned on him with her best whipped puppy dog expression. "I suppose if I were to tell you I've been working all night in the lab, you'd think I was an overachieving, no-life geek."
"Of course." Jason’s pale, overlarge eyes crinkled into a smile. "We're all overachieving geeks. We wouldn't be at Cal Berkeley if we weren't."
Darcy's face relaxed into an apologetic grin. "So you don't mind? I've got prelims coming up and I don't have a single result. Channing's ignoring me. She's ready to pull the plug. I know she is--"
Jason held up a hand. "It's okay. Things will work out." His features hardened into a frown. "But not tonight. You practically fell asleep in your curry."
"I know. Just two hours to finish up a gel. I'll call--"
"I also checked on your co-ed escort service. It doesn't exist. Never has."
Darcy could feel the heat rising to her face. She turned back to the mirror, trying to force herself to relax. She could just insist. Get out of the car now. Jason wasn't her guardian. She didn't have to get his permission.
"Darcy, I... It's late. Let me just take you home. I don't care if...I mean, we're grad students. We're supposed to live in hovels. I just got lucky."
Hovels? Darcy could feel the tension draining out of her muscles. She looked back at Jason and smiled. "Why don't you just drop me off here? If you saw my hovel, you'd have to fumigate me before letting me back in your car. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I mind fumigation so much, but sitting on plastic sheets gives me heat rash."
"Don't worry," Jason said, "I've got Scotchgard." He started the car, put it in gear, and pulled out onto the deserted campus street. "So, where’s this hovel of yours?"
Darcy closed her eyes and tried to visualize a map of the city. Where was this hovel of hers? "I guess I know what I'm getting for Christmas--another flea-collar necklace and a pair of tree-shaped, air-freshener earrings."
"You’re stalling…"
"Okay, it’s on Sixtieth Street." She'd seen the street sign once when she'd gotten lost her first week in Berkeley. The name was Sixtieth Street, wasn't it?
"Sixtieth?" Jason asked.
"That's right," Darcy said firmly. She'd been scared to death. The bullet-ridden street sign had made quite an impression. "Down Telegraph, on the right, almost to Oakland."
"See? That wasn't so hard." Jason turned right and sped down a dark narrow street. "Know what your problem is?" He turned and flashed her a smile. "You worry too much--over nothing. You've got to learn to relax. Chill."
"Well, your problem is you don't watch where you're driving." Darcy braced her hand against the dash as Jason swerved back into his lane.
"See what I'm saying?" Jason was looking at her again. "Relax. We've got the road to ourselves." He glanced forward and pulled the car into a squealing right-hand turn. "All it takes is perspective. Perspective and a good set of tires."
"And a desire to spend Friday night alone," Darcy threatened.
"Okay. Okay..." The hum of the engine wound down, and the car slowed to a reasonable speed. "I was just trying to get you to loosen up a bit. You know, seize the moment. Have some fun."
"Jason, it's late…"
"I know, let me guess. You need to get up early tomorrow to work on your research."
She could almost hear the pouting in his voice. Why did he have to make it so hard? She looked out the passenger window as Jason turned slowly onto Telegraph Avenue. The car was barely crawling now. Another stall tactic? She rested her head against the window and watched the deserted sidewalks scroll silently past. Empty shops glowed feebly against the cloying darkness. Leather-studded mannequins cowering behind spray-paint-streaked bars. Blanket-wrapped cocoons huddling in the shelter of shadowy entryways, homeless pupae hibernating until their day of emancipation.
"Where is everybody?" She shook off the dark thought. “It’s barely midnight.”
"It's way too dangerous these days," Jason remarked. "Apparently some people have the sense not to walk home alone at night."
"Better be careful." Darcy allowed a little playfulness to creep into her voice. "Some people may get so paranoid they'll stop going out for Thai food."
Jason didn’t respond. Had she gone too far? She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was leaning forward over the steering wheel, peering ahead through a shroud of heavy fog.
"What--" Jason hit the brakes and the car skidded to a halt. Twenty yards ahead of them, illuminated by the fog-choked beams of his headlights, a mob of twenty to thirty people filled the street. "What do they think they're doing? They can't just stand--"
"Wait!" Darcy grabbed Jason's arm before he could hit the horn. The mob was shuffling toward them with slow, uneven steps. Blank Faces. Glassy eyes. Their arms hung limp as they drifted from side to side, weaving a serpentine path up the litter-strewn street. A low keening whistle sounded through the chill night. An answering whistle.
"Glass-heads," Darcy hissed. "Get out of here. Quick!" She braced both hands against the dash as Jason threw the car into reverse and backed down the street. The glass-heads drifted after them, wide obsidian eyes staring sightlessly after the retreating headlights.
Jason swung the car around and slammed on the brakes. Then, shifting to Drive, he sped away.
"I can't believe this!" He took a hard left. "You've been walking home all this time?" The tone of his voice bordered on anger.
Darcy shrunk away from him. "They're not supposed to be dangerous, you know."
"That's not what I hear."
"And I suppose prisons give inmates glass because their prisoners aren't violent enough?"
Jason took another left, a little slower this time. "You still shouldn't be walking alone at night--especially not these days. Murder is still murder, whether the murderers are on glass or not."
"Okay, okay." Darcy threw up her hands in mock surrender. "I confess. I’m a geek. My life is so dull I have to walk home from the library just to get a little excitement." She watched Jason, waiting for a smile, a grimace, a shake of the head--anything to show he wasn't really angry.
"I'm serious. I don't want you out alone at night." Jason turned to look at her. His eyes were soft, pleading.
She swallowed the retort that had been forming on her lips. "Fine. I promise to be careful. No more walking the streets of Oakland...after tonight."
"After tonight?"
"You can't very well expect me to stay home and let you win." Darcy made a face. "As soon as you drop me off, I'm walking right back to the chemistry library just to prove people really are there." She stared Jason down, formulating a response to the objections she saw gathering in his eyes.
Jason shook his head and turned back to the road. Good. He was smiling.
Darcy relaxed in the padded leather seat and closed her eyes. Time to keep her mouth shut. One more syllable of provocation and he'd probably blow.
"Here’s Sixtieth." The Miata slowed to a stop at a dark intersection. "Which way do I turn?"
"Oh. Um..." Darcy leaned forward and gazed out the windshield. It was too dark to tell. "Right, I think. I'm not used to coming this way."
Jason swung the car into a wide turn and drove slowly down the center of a trash-littered street. Heavy mist formed sickly orange halos around unevenly spaced streetlights. Most of the warehouses appeared to be abandoned. She searched right and left for something that could pass as an apartment building. Maybe she should just give up and...
"Right here." Darcy pointed to a low building on their left, the only building on the street that had a light glowing outside its front door. "This is it. Hovel, sweet hovel."
"Wow." Jason stopped the car and stared up at the dilapidated building. "I had no idea. Now I understand--"
"Why I haven't let you take me home?"
"Why you spend so much time in the lab." He grinned at her and started to open his car door.
Darcy grabbed him by the arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To escort you to your hovel."
"I don't think so." She climbed out of the car and hurried around to push Jason's door shut. "Turn your back on this car for five seconds, and it will be stripped down to its hubcaps."
"Come on, Darcy. At least let me--"
"Good night, Jason. Thanks for the ride." She jogged toward the silhouetted building, her eyes fixed on the staple-pocked surface of the door. Stepping confidently onto the cement stoop, she gripped the rusted door handle and waited. Behind her, she could still hear the hum of the Miata's engine. What was he waiting for? She twisted the knob in both directions. Locked.
Turning around, she gave the okay sign and waved Jason away. "Go on. Get out of here," she mumbled under her breath as she dug in her purse for keys.
The car turned so that its headlights were aimed right at her.
Great. She pulled out her keys with a flourish and dangled them in the air for Jason to see. Then, after waving again, she pretended to insert a key into the lock and stepped toward the door. One more wave and... Jason was on his way.
Finally. Darcy heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed against the door. For a second there, she'd thought he was planning to stay the night. Now all she had to do was--
The hiss of distant voices sent shivers up her spine. Spinning away from the door, she dove for the cover of darkness. The whispers sounded again. A low keening whistle. It was getting louder. She crept along the side of the warehouse, searching up and down the shadow-blanketed street. Another pack of glass-heads. Two, maybe three blocks to the north. If she was careful, she could get past them. But it was going to be a long, long walk back to the campus.

Chapter 2

PARKER

Parker stretched out his hand for the fallen wooden pole. He'd tried every chair position possible and still the dowel lay five inches beyond his reach. He sat back up and checked to make sure the long pole was still jammed securely against the bottom of the cage.
"Come on, Jammy, think." Parker reached up with his right arm. The cage was too far away to use his shoes. What else did he have to work with? The wire leads running to the motion sensors? One of the other cages? Water bottles? Air filters? Mice...
"Yes!" He searched the cages within his reach, pulling out one cage after another. The mice all lay weak and helpless on the bottoms of their pans. "Come on! There's got to be a control somewhere!" He opened the top of the last cage and was rewarded by the scraping of tiny feet.
It was too far away to see inside, so he pulled off the metal bars that covered the bottom tray and lowered his hand into the cage. Tiny claws latched onto his sleeve and the mouse started up his arm. “Oh no you don’t!” He grabbed the mouse by the tail and pulled it from his sleeve. It dangled in the air by its tail, flailing around, trying to get at him with its teeth.
Parker guided the chair forward, positioning the left wheel so it was only inches from the fallen dowel. He lowered the struggling mouse, but it clung to the spokes of his wheel. "Come on little guy. I won't hurt you." He brought the mouse back up and twirled it around in a small circle--just enough to make it dizzy. This time when he lowered the mouse he made it past the spokes, all the way to the floor. The mouse latched onto the dowel immediately, clinging to it with all four sets of claws.
"Okay, hold on!" Parker raised the mouse off the ground and the dowel rose with it. "Just a little more." He swung the end of the dowel around so that it rested against the spokes of his wheel. "There you go, fella." Parker grabbed the pole and let go of the mouse's tail.
He heard the plop of a tiny body and the scamper of feet across the floor. "Thanks little guy." Parker reached up and inserted the dowel into its slot at the bottom of the cage. Then, slipping the long pole off the front of his seat cushion, he lowered the cage slowly to his lap. “Yes!”
Parker stared at the cage in stunned disbelief. A small, half-inch hole had been bored through the plastic slats of the cover.
"No way." He lifted the cover with numb, fumbling fingers.
"Whoa." The cover slipped from his hands and dropped to the floor. The narrow metal bars that made up the inner cage had been bent--right where they dipped down to form a dish for the mouse’s food. Dark flecks of what looked like blood stained the bars. Food pellets were scattered all over the floor of the cage.
The mouse was gone.

DARCY

Darcy shrank into the shadow of an old corner grocery, pressing her back against the rough plywood that covered half of a glass-toothed window. The rustle of dull footsteps scraped through the street ahead. What was this? Some kind of glass-head convention? You couldn’t spit on the sidewalk without hitting at least three drugged-out mobs. And where were the Berkeley police? She hadn't seen a blue light all night. Maybe the Daily Cal was right. Maybe the police were dealing glass. They had to do something to support their donut habit.
She waited until the footsteps had faded into the rush of distant traffic before leaving the shadows of the building and feeling her way along the weed-choked sidewalks. The fog hung heavy over the city, screening her from the ghostly light of a pale blue moon. What was she going to do if Jason invited her to dinner again? She couldn't have him drop her off at the lab--not anymore. What if he insisted on driving her back to her hovel again? She was tired of all the excuses, all the lies. Besides, they were never going anywhere--not as a couple. They were from two different worlds. Way different. He was an honest-to-goodness person and she was just… a ghost. A wispy lie with all the stuffing scooped out.
She stopped suddenly and pressed herself against the base of a nearby building. Holding her breath, she searched the street behind her with wide eyes. A prickly weed scratched at her ankle. The air was stale with the smell of urine.
Nothing. Darcy took a deep breath and continued down the cracked uneven sidewalk. Jason. What was she so worried about? He wasn't going to ask her out again. Not after tonight. Why hadn't she just told him the truth? Surely it wasn't as bad as--
There it was again. The faint scrape of leather on concrete. This time she was certain. She spun around and searched the darkness. The more she stared, the more the shadows seemed to move. A patch of murky blackness across the street. An entryway behind her.
She forced her eyes away from the sagging structure. Ridiculous. Of course there were noises. She was in the middle of a city! Abandoning the idea of stealth, she broke into a slow jog. The campus wasn't that far off now; she could run the rest of the way. She kicked up the pace. The exercise would do her good. Dodging away from a dark doorway, she headed out into the open street. Shadow phantoms danced around her. The echoes of pounding feet. Lungs burning, ears pounding, she sprinted down street after terror-filled street.
Half a block from the edge of campus she stopped under a streetlight to catch her breath. She bent double, gasping for air, supporting her weight with her hands on her knees. What was that? She pushed herself up and held her breath. Strange noises floated on the gathering haze. Soft and sibilant, the murmur of whispering voices. She spun around. A shadow flitted at the edge of the surrounding light. Another shadow, drifting to her left. Another. Shuffling figures. Empty faces. Obsidian eyes.
Glass-heads! Darcy cut between two parked cars and bolted across the street. Left at a side street, right at the next, she ran blindly through the night. Almost there. Almost there. The steady chant burned in her brain. Sweeping the street behind her with tear-glazed eyes, she kept on running. They were still behind her. She cut through the narrow alley between the Hearst Gym and the parking garage. Almost there. Almost there! The chem building was only a few blocks away. If she could just make it--
Four pale figures drifted into the alley ahead of her--three men and a half-dressed woman. Darcy skidded to a stop and spun around. The alley behind her was rapidly filling with a sea of shadows and glassy black eyes.
She was trapped.

PARKER

"Yes!" Parker spun his wheelchair in a tight circle until the room around him was a blur of racks and yellow paint. "Yes!" He released the joystick and watched as the room kept spinning. He had done it! It had taken six years, but he had done it. Mouse 87 had escaped. It was the only logical explanation. It had to be.
The bars...! He wheeled back to the workstation and examined the cage he'd disassembled. The bars were definitely bent. But what if it wasn't the mouse? What if a snake had somehow managed to...to what? Chew its way through the plastic cage? Slither into a room sealed so tight that even a bacterium couldn't get inside? Absurd.
But a mouse with muscular dystrophy chewing its way through plastic? Even a healthy mouse couldn't do that. Maybe a rat had gotten into the lab. No, it had to be the drug. It had to be. Parker pushed the cage back onto the bench and turned for the door.
If the drug worked that well without optimization, maybe he could convince a drug company to look at it. To fast-track it. And with the resources of an entire company behind it, maybe they could come up with something before Jenny...
He pulled down on the handle and tugged at the door. Great. Why hadn’t he thought to wedge the door open? It had been hard enough trying to push the door open. Pulling it would be impossible. Extending his footrests, Parker rammed into the door. "Hello? Anybody out there?" He hit the door again. “Hello?”
He couldn't afford to miss a day in the lab--especially not a Saturday. He had too much work to do. Another synthesis. Another mouse study experiment. Analytical work. Dosing studies. Solubility. Toxicity. Clinical trials.
"Hey! Let me out of here!" He hammered against the door until his back and neck ached from the shock.
If only he had left the door open. If he had just--
No ifs, Parker reprimanded himself. Closed doors could be opened. ‘Ifs’ and ‘whys’ were the real prisons. Come on, Jammy. Think. Parker took a deep breath and let it out slowly. One thing at a time.
All he needed was a tool. A rope! He picked up the loose cable from cage 87 and looped it around the door handle. Tying it off to the arm of his chair, he swung the chair back and forth until the handle turned and the door whooshed open.
"Yes!" Parker drove toward the door while pulling back on the cable to keep it from closing. "Woo-hoo!" His voice echoed off the cinder-block walls of the empty vivarium corridor. "Parker does it again! Ladies and gentlemen, not only can he cure diseases, but he can also open a door. Woo-hoo!"
Parker sped through the deserted basement and stopped outside the elevator. It only took three tries to hit the Up button. “Hello? Anybody down here?"
The elevator opened and Parker rolled inside, jabbing at the button for the third floor. He couldn't wait to tell everyone. Adrenaline 355. Even the code name sounded right. Like a Ray Bradbury novel. Or maybe...Parker 355. Or Parkerinium. The elevator stopped, and the door slid open.
"Woo-hoo!" he shouted, loud enough for the entire third floor to hear. "I did it!" He rolled past his lab and stopped at the door to Sinclair's communal lab. The door's wire-reinforced window was dark. "Hello?" He checked his watch. It was only 2:30. Where was everyone?
Spinning around, he headed up the hall. "Hello! Is anybody here?"
He stopped and listened. Nothing. Not a sound. Surely, someone was still around. Someone working late. Someone like…
He wheeled to the end of the hall and turned left into the old unrenovated section of the building. His heart pounded in his ears as he guided the wheelchair forward across the cracked tiled floor. Darcy Williams. She'd definitely be here; she always worked late. It was the perfect opportunity. He had to tell somebody, and she was the only one around. It was the most natural thing in the world.
He backed off the joystick, pausing at the turnoff that led to her lab. Maybe if he yelled from the hall, she'd come out to see what was happening.
No… too obvious. Nobody visited the old section of the building unless they were getting ice, and he didn’t have an ice bucket. Better to just burst into her lab, tell her he had to tell somebody his good news like he was too excited to think straight--which was true, wasn't it?
So what was he waiting for?
He fingered his joystick control. He'd just tell her about his experiment and leave. If she wanted to hear more, fine. If she asked, he'd even volunteer to take her downstairs and show her the cage.
Okay, Jammy. Think excited. He pushed down on the joystick and rounded the corner.
The lab was dark.
No. Parker stared at the closed door for several seconds. There had to be someone to tell. He rolled back to the new section of the building and punched in the combination to his lab. The door swung slowly outward, and the lights flickered on. He went to his desk and grabbed his cell phone off its recharger unit. Staring at the names on his speed-dial menu, he hesitated.
No. He dropped the phone into the pocket of his chair and headed for the door. A phone call at 2:30 A.M. would give his parents a heart attack, especially with Jenny in the hospital. He'd have to wait till morning. Maybe Ray would come in early. If he didn’t show up, he was definitely going to have to train another lab assistant. He couldn't afford any more delays. Not now.
Parker turned out the lights and left the lab. The whine of his chair screamed against the silence of the building. Where was everyone? It was still early by grad student standards. Rolling into the waiting elevator, he punched the button for the ground floor.
A moment later the elevator door slid open, and he headed for the exit. Maybe he should call for a ride. He'd never thought twice about going home on his own before--even during the Rage riots. But until now, he'd never had so much to lose. Mouse 87... What if something happened before he could tell anyone? He hesitated at the door, wondering whom he could call.
No. Getting into an unmodified vehicle was a pain. It was easier to walk. He punched the door opener button and rolled outside. The night was cold and foggy. Before long it would be the rainy season, and then things would really start getting tough. Might as well enjoy the outdoors while he could. He switched on his chair’s headlights and set out across campus. The direct route through the campus had four more curbs and two more step-ups than the perimeter route, but it was much safer. And if construction on the bridge was finished, going direct would be faster as well. He eased his chair down an uneven embankment and picked his way carefully across a gravel-strewn drive.
A woman's voice sounded, somewhere near Bancroft. He swung his chair around and stopped to listen.
The voice came again. Too distorted for him to make out the words, but there was no mistaking the tone. He guided his wheelchair forward. The least he could do was--
"Get your hands--!" A scream tore through the night.
Parker jammed down on the chair's accelerator, and the wheelchair flew across the debris-littered sidewalk. He rattled up a ramp and turned onto another sidewalk.
"Let go!"
Parker plunged toward the shrieking voice. There, between the gym and parking garage, he spotted a dark cluster of writhing figures. As he got closer he could see distinct shapes. Someone at the center of the group seemed to be fighting to get away.
Raising his footrests like a battering ram, Parker plowed into the mob with a brain-rattling crash. A heavy body slammed into his face and spun him around in a swirl of twisted shapes. Crunch! The side of his head smacked against the ground. Nauseating pain jolted through his body, filling his mind with a dark, expanding cloud.

Chapter 3

DARCY

A body slammed into Darcy, throwing her to the ground in a tangle of flailing arms and kicking feet. She pushed a hand out of her face. An elbow. Heaving a struggling weight off her shoulders, she lunged forward, crawling over the broad back of a beached glass-head. They were everywhere, picking themselves off the ground, looking around with sagging jaws, wide glassy eyes. She climbed to her feet and spun around to get her bearings. A whine. She'd heard a loud whine--right before they'd pushed her over.
A massive shadow lurched into her path and reached for her with groping hands. Lowering her shoulder, she threw her weight into the big man's gut and ducked beneath his grasp. Then, pushing off the ground with her hands, she sprinted for the street, blind to all else but the need to get away. The whine... The sound clawed its way through her panic. Something was wrong. She'd heard the sound before.
She cast a wary glance behind her. The glass-heads were milling about like ants around a stomped ant hill. Something was on the ground. Something...
She slowed to a stop. A big wheel turned sideways. The high-pitched whine right before the collision...
That guy from the Sinclair lab. "Hey!" She started back toward the pressing mob. "Over here." Darcy waved her arms, but none of them noticed. They were pressing in on the wheelchair like a pack of wild dogs around a fresh kill.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Darcy hurled herself onto the backs of the glass-heads. One of them grabbed at her, but she evaded his grasp and threw herself into the crease he'd left exposed.
An arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her down from behind. She rolled to the side, wrenching herself free, but before she could stand up, another glass-head stumbled on top of her, crushing her to the ground. Another fell beside her and grabbed at her flailing fists. Strong hands locked around her ankles. A knee pressed down on her thigh.
"Let go of me!" She emphasized each word, giving her voice the tone of command. Why weren't they listening? They were supposed to respond to commands. They were supposed to be docile. "Let go of me--right now!"
Two hands reached down, cupped her under the chin, and pulled her head up until she was staring into empty, glazed eyes. A maniacal grin twisted the man's features. He flicked his tongue out at her, hissing like an asthmatic snake.
Darcy twisted her head to the side, cringing as his breath grew hotter on her cheek. The pressure on her jaw increased. Slowly her head was forced back up until his face was only inches from hers. She squeezed her eyes shut as a slimy tongue slid across her forehead.
"No!" Her terror erupted into a night-shattering scream. "Get away from me!" She smashed her forehead into the glass-head's face. Again. Again.
The hands dropped from her face. She lunged backward, swinging her head like a club. A weight rolled off her back but was replaced immediately by a heavier weight. Hands pressed in from all around her, grabbing her neck. Her hair.
"Freeze! This is the police!" The shout echoed through the narrow alley.
Lights flashed all around her, reflecting off darting bodies and glinting black eyes. The weights lifted suddenly from her shoulders and legs. Running footsteps. Hoarse grunts. Hissing breath.
Darcy rolled herself into a ball, pawing at her face with both sleeves.
"It's okay. I think they're gone," a gentle whisper sounded from behind her.
"What?" She sat up slowly and squinted against the flashing light.
"Quiet," the whisper cautioned. "They'll be back if they figure it out."
Darcy crawled toward the voice. Figure it out? The voice. The lights. They were coming from the wheelchair. "The police... Was that you?"
"Quick. I've got a cell phone in the pocket of my chair. Take it and call 9-1-1. You've got to get out of here."
Darcy crawled around the chair and kneeled beside the still figure that lay crumpled in its shadow. "Are you okay?" She reached out a trembling hand. He looked like...something was wrong. She didn't dare move him.
"Amazingly enough, I think I am." He sounded amused. "Now, get the phone. It's drilling a hole into my hip."
Darcy hesitated. "You're James Parker, aren't you? From the Sinclair lab."
"I usually go by Parker. Do I know you?"
"Probably not," she whispered. "I'm just a third year, but I work on the third floor too. My name is Darcy Williams."
Silence.
"Are you okay?" She laid a cautious hand on Parker's shoulder. "What can I do to help?"
"Darcy?" More silence. "Hi...uh...I...the phone is--"
A high-pitched whistle quavered on the night air. It seemed to be coming from the street.
Darcy searched the arm of the wheelchair under Parker's leg and plunged her hand into a canvas pocket. "Okay, I've got the phone."
"They're coming back. Get out of here!"
"How do you dial...?" She felt for the keys and pressed the big button at the top. The keypad glowed with a dull green light.
"Too late. Get out of here. Tell Sinclair... No, tell my lab assistant that Adrenaline 355 worked. It'll cure my sister. Promise me--"
"Got it!" She punched 9-1-1 and hit Send. "Hello? This is Darcy Williams."
"Get out of here. They're coming!"
"I'm in the alley between the Hearst Gym and a parking garage on the Cal campus--right off Bancroft Way. We're being attacked by a gang of glass addicts. Send the police."
"Ma'am, I need you to calm down and..."
Murmuring voices sounded in the alley. Shuffling footsteps.
Darcy switched off the phone and grabbed Parker around the shoulders.
"Ow!" Parker didn't budge. "I'm strapped in. Don't worry about me. Just leave."
Darcy found the nylon strap around Parker's waist and traced it to a plastic buckle. The footsteps were getting closer.
"Run!" Parker hissed. "They won't bother me. It's you they want."
She squeezed the buckle and Parker's middle whumped to the ground. “Any more straps?”
“Just go. Get out of here!”
“Shhh.” Darcy grasped him under his arms and pulled him from the chair, dragging him into the shadow of the gymnasium.
The murmuring got suddenly louder. A dozen or so lurching forms appeared under a streetlight. They could see her and Parker. Of course they could. She had no choice; she had to leave Parker behind. He was too heavy.
"Go on. Leave me!" He hissed.
"No." She sat Parker down and regripped him from behind, circling her arms around his chest. Eyes fixed on the advancing shadows, she backed toward the campus, dragging Parker's trailing legs behind her. The glass-heads drifted closer. They could hear them. She had to make a run for it.
Her lower back burned and her arms ached, but still she clung to Parker. He'd helped her escape. Saved her life. She cut to her right and dragged him around the corner of the building. She couldn't do it. Couldn't hold him much longer.
Turning left and right, she searched frantically for a hiding place. A bicycle rack stood by a solitary bench. A dark leafy mound. Darcy dragged Parker to the low-lying flower bed and fell back into a tangled mass of vines.
"Are you okay?" Parker’s whisper was barely audible above the rush of her gasping breath.
Darcy nodded, still struggling to catch her breath.
"I don't hear them. Do you?"
She held her breath and listened. The night was silent except for the whisper of distant traffic. The cold tingle of moisture seeped its way up into her jeans and shirt. The musty smell of earth and green.
"This is great," Parker whispered close to her ear.
"What? Are you hurt?" Darcy rolled onto her side. He had seemed so fragile. His arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. What if she'd hurt him picking him up? What if he'd broken a bone in the fall?
"Hurt? I'm fantastic! This is the best day of my life."
"Shhh." She ducked back down into the tangle of vines and listened intently for several seconds. Silence. No sound at all. Maybe the glass-heads had given up and moved on. "I don't hear them, but they could still be searching for us. We shouldn't take any chances."
"Fine with me." Parker sounded amused. "What a night! A ground-breaking discovery and the adventure of a lifetime!"
"Listen, I..." Darcy paused at the sound of a slow-moving car. "What you did back there. You could have been hurt. Most...you know, guys, would have walked on by. But you...even though you're in a... Well, I really appreciate it. A lot. I want you to know that."
"I'm just glad I was around. I don't normally..." Parker's voice trailed off. "Isn't it funny how things work out? I don't normally work so late, but I had an amazing breakthrough. The break I’ve been waiting for for six years. All my life, really." His voice faded.
Darcy frowned. What was this guy's deal? He saves her life and now all he wants to talk about is science? "One more thing…” She had to say it. “The flashing lights. Yelling out like you were the police? Brilliant. Flat out brilliant. You even had me fooled."
Flashing blue lights reflected off the wall of the parking garage. Darcy sat up. "You turned your lights off, right?"
"Yeah, my emergency flashers are red and white. That's probably the real police."
"I'll check it out." Darcy started to sit up, but hesitated. Would Parker be all right on the ground? It didn't seem right just to leave him.
"Just be careful," Parker cautioned. "Stay out of sight until you're absolutely certain it's the police."
"You'll be okay?" Darcy picked her way through the flowers.
"I'm fine. Just remember to come back and pick me up. There's a fine for littering."
Darcy crept across the open patio to the shelter of the building. So… She'd finally met James Parker. The legend himself. The cover of Nature and an article in Science--while he was still an undergrad.
She edged along the building, pausing occasionally to listen. He wasn't at all like she'd imagined. She certainly hadn't expected a sense of humor. The way everybody talked, she assumed he'd be a younger version of Dr. Sinclair--too brilliant to be bothered with mere mortals. And too incoherent for mere mortals to want to bother with him.
She peered around the corner of the building. Four glass-heads were shuffling toward the street. A tall, heavy-set police officer was right behind them. Anger bubbled up inside her. What was he doing? Letting them go? Didn't he know about the attack?
She stepped out after them. If he didn't haul each and every one of them off to--
The officer pulled something from his pocket, something that gleamed white between his shielding fingers. Darcy froze as he leaned in close to one of the glass-heads and slipped the white object into her pocket.

PARKER

Parker looked at his watch. 5:00 A.M. The police officer had been questioning Darcy forever. True, part of that time had been spent helping him into his chair, but still… How much time did it take to establish the fact that Darcy had been attacked?
He swung his chair around and pretended to examine the photos on Darcy's desk. The officer had tried to call an ambulance, but Darcy wouldn't hear of it. She wouldn't even let him give her a ride home. Instead, she'd insisted the officer walk her back to her lab. One of the photos caught Parker's eye. It looked like a guy, but there was too much glare to be sure. He stretched out his arm and casually bumped the photo so that it turned to face him. Definitely a guy. Long, greasy hair. Glasses. Good, he was wearing latex gloves. Probably someone from her lab. Definitely not boyfriend material.
He pulled his arm back in with a grimace. His rib cage felt like it had been run over by a fire truck. He probably should have gone to the hospital, but how could he agree to an ambulance after Darcy had turned it down? Besides, he was hoping to tell her about his experiment, maybe even show her cage 87. That is if Officer Let-Me-Rephrase-the-Question ever left them alone. What was it with this guy?
He turned his chair back around. The officer still had his recorder out, and he was still scowling.
"I told you." Darcy was leaning back against a cluttered lab bench. "My address is Latimer Hall, The University of California--Berkeley."
The officer wiped a forearm across his fleshy face. Patches of red blotched his neck and jawline. "Look, I just need a home address for my report. Not a school address. I need the place where you live." The officer held the recorder closer to Darcy, but she shrank away.
"I told you. I'm a grad student. If you want to reach me when I'm awake, this is the place. Parker, you tell him." She looked at Parker with beseeching eyes.
What was going on? She acted like she was afraid of this clown.
"Officer..." Parker looked to the badge on his uniform.
“Kelly, Dave Kelly.”
"Officer Kelly, it's five o'clock and Darcy's been through a terrible ordeal. Don't you think we should continue this later?" He rolled forward to position himself between Darcy and the big man.
"A few more minutes, that's all." Kelly twisted his face into a smile. "I just need you to tell me again how exactly the fight started."
"I already told you!" Darcy's voice shook. "The glass-heads were chasing me. They cut me off and jumped me. Twenty of them to only one of me. There was no fight to it."
Kelly frowned, shook his head.
"I've already verified her story." Parker guided his chair forward. "What do you want her to say?"
"I'm just trying to understand. That's all." The big officer didn't meet Parker's gaze. He dropped his recorder in a pocket and eased his weight onto a lab stool. "People on glass aren't violent. They're harmless. It's a scientific fack. Maybe they were just curious? Checkin' her out before moving on?"
"No way. They were all over her, trying to drag her down." Parker turned back to Darcy and was rewarded with a nod and a half smile.
"Then they weren't on glass," Kelly stated. "Folks on glass are physically incapable of...you know, that kind of attack. You sure they weren't on Rage?"
"We're alive, aren't we?" Parker pressed in closer.
"Well, maybe they--"
"Enough maybes." Parker stared hard at Kelly. "We've told you everything that happened. You've got your data. You can analyze them later."
Kelly's eyes narrowed, and his whole body went suddenly rigid. He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Finally he took a deep breath, held it, and let it out with a whistle. "Well…" He slapped his knee and pushed off the stool. "It’s late and I guess we're all tired. You sure you don't want a ride home?" He looked past Parker to Darcy. "Seems to me if you was attacked like you said, you wouldn't be so anxious to walk home by yourself."
"Unfortunately I have work to do." Darcy walked to the door and held it open.
"I'll bet you do." Kelly sauntered out the door. "Lady works the night shift."
Darcy shut the door and leaned against it as Kelly's footsteps echoed down the empty corridor.
Weird. Very weird. He looked to Darcy, expecting to find her as puzzled by Kelly's behavior as he was.
"Can you believe him?" Darcy stormed back to the lab bench and plopped down on a stool. "He practically called me a liar! Like I was the one who attacked them."
Parker followed her across the room, watching her carefully. He'd expected a reaction, but not this reaction. What was she so worked up about?
"Something's definitely up with him. Him and those glass-heads." Darcy's eyes flashed. "Did you hear the way he defended them?"
"Is that why you weren't answering his questions?" Parker asked gently.
"I answered his questions. He just didn't like my answers. He kept trying to change them--make me say something I wasn't really saying."
Parker didn't know what to say to that. It didn't make sense. None of it did. Except that Darcy was distraught and tired and needed to get some sleep. They both did. It probably wasn't the best time to bring up his experiment.
"Kelly is definitely into something shady," Darcy said. "I saw him give one of the glass-heads something that looked like a packet of drugs. We should report him."
"You actually saw him?" Parker’s eyes went wide. "How do you know it was drugs?"
"I saw something white. What else would it be?" Her face flushed.
"It could've been anything." Parker shook his head. "A Kleenex... a driver's license.... Maybe he was handing out tickets. You could hardly expect one officer to stuff twenty glass-heads in his squad car and haul them off to jail."
"I know what I saw." Darcy crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I think we should report him. You saw the way he kept asking me questions--while the glass-heads were getting away."
Parker thought a second. "Maybe Kelly was just… you know, stalling."
Darcy's mouth dropped open as understanding dawned on her face. "Giving the glass-heads more time to get away. You may be right."
"No, I mean...you know, maybe he was just…flirting."
"Flirting?" Her face wrinkled with disgust. "More like intimidating. Trying to threaten me into silence."
Not possible. Parker started to tell her but stopped short. What could he say? It was obvious Kelly was attracted to her. He'd seen it in the man's eyes. Bullying her was probably Kelly's way of acting on that attraction. A lot of guys had trouble acting normal around pretty girls--even girls who didn't act like they knew they were pretty.
Darcy looked at him through tired, droopy eyes. Beautiful eyes. Not brown, not hazel either. They were almost blonde--the color of honey in sunlight.
A lump formed in his throat. He adjusted the back of his chair and raised his legs a few inches. Kelly, the glass-heads, his experiment... He should say something, but what?
"Thanks for not leaving me alone with Officer Kelly." Darcy slid off the stool and crouched beside Parker with her hands resting lightly on the arm of his chair. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here. I don't know what he would have done."
"I'm sure you would have been fine." Parker forced a smile.
"And thanks for rescuing me." Darcy took him by the hand.
He felt like the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room. He closed his hand around hers and squeezed hard. He wanted to tell her to squeeze too. After years of electric pulse stimulation therapy, his bones were fine. She wasn't going to break him.
A hesitant smile. She seemed a little uncomfortable and it probably wasn’t the strength of his grip. She pulled her hand away--despite his best effort to hold on.
"Thanks." Parker's voice was husky. "Thanks for hiding me."
"You're the one that charged a pack of glass-heads." Darcy smiled and the whole room seemed to dim. She stood slowly and turned toward her desk, her thick hair shimmering in the fluorescent light. He couldn't decide if it was light brown with red highlights or dark blonde with a hint of brown. A leafy twig peeked out above her ear. Eight years ago he would have been able to stand up and brush it from her hair, but now...
He swallowed hard. She was looking at the clock on her desk. Almost 5:30.
"I really should get going," Parker broke the uncomfortable silence. "It's late. And you look... I'm sure you're tired."
"No." She turned and fixed him with an expression he couldn't read. "I'm fine. Really."
"Really?" Parker fidgeted with his controls, lowering and raising his footrest.
She nodded, stars of light glinting in her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? I could walk you to Health Services."
"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "But maybe...I could walk you home?"
She shook her head, sadly it seemed. Like she actually wanted to go. "I really do need to get some work done."
"I could wait. It's almost morning. There isn't much point in me going home now."
"Please, Parker. Go. I’m fine."
Parker started to argue, but something in her expression chased away his words. "All right." He turned hesitantly in his chair. "Have a good night."
"You too."
He rolled slowly to the door. Footsteps sounded behind him.
"And, Parker?"
"Yeah?" Parker spun his chair around.
Darcy opened the door and held it open. "Thanks," she whispered. "I really do appreciate...everything. If there's anything I can do, anything at all, just..."
"You're welcome." Parker grinned and rolled through the door. He turned once more to face her. "Tonight was epic. I got to meet you, and I made a major breakthrough in my research. Maybe I could come by tomorrow and...tell you about it?"
"Sure," Darcy’s face clouded for a second, then she broke into a wide smile. "I'd like that."
"Okay. Tomorrow, then." Parker drove down the hallway in a jumble of swirling emotions. Darcy Williams. He couldn't believe it. No matter what the police thought. No matter what they said, he really had saved her life. He'd actually done it! Like a knight on a charging stallion. The Scarlet Pimpernel. Tarzan and Jane.
He stopped at the door of his lab. No, he really needed to get home. His morning attendant would be there at 7:00, and his bladder was about to burst. Glancing at his watch, he started toward the elevator. He could call his parents in forty-five minutes. Maybe Jenny, if she was awake. He felt the arm pocket for his phone and stopped. It was gone. Did Darcy still have it? Had they lost it in the flowers?
He U-turned and retraced his way back to Darcy's lab. He turned down the final corridor and stopped. The door of her lab was closed. The lights were off.
"Darcy." He knocked the chair gently against the door. "Darcy!"
Silence crushed down on him, grinding its heel into his soul. She'd said she needed to get some work done, didn't need to be escorted home. He turned slowly from the door and trundled for the elevator. Of course she wasn't there. What had he been thinking? She'd probably been trying to get away from him all night, only he'd been too dense to see it.
He stopped at the blurred outline of the elevator. What had gotten into him? He should be happy. Filled with gratitude. He jabbed at the hazy button. The fact that someone like Darcy had noticed him at all, that he'd gotten to spend three whole hours with her...
It was more than he had a right to even pray for.

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