Marissa backed out of the room, turning off the light, and closing and bolting the door. She shivered both from distaste and actual chill.
Chastised for her curiosity, Marissa turned her attention to the freezer. In spite of the clumsiness afforded by the plastic suit and her own tremulousness, she worked the combination on the bicycle lock and got it off with relative ease. The link chain was another story. It was knotted, and she had to struggle to get it through the handle. It took longer than she would have liked, but at last it was free and she lifted the lid.
Rubbing the frost off the inner side of the lid, Marissa tried to
decipher the index code. The viruses were in alphabetical order. “Ebola, Zaire ’76” was followed by “97, E11-E48, F1-F12.” Marissa guessed that the first number referred to the appropriate tray and that the letters and numbers that followed located the virus within the tray. Each tray held at least one thousand samples, which meant that there were fifty individual vials of the Zaire ’76 strain.
As carefully as possible, Marissa lifted tray 97 free and set it on a nearby counter top while she scanned the slots. Each was filled with a small black-topped vial. Marissa was both relieved and disappointed. She located the Zaire ’76 strain and lifted out sample Eli. The tiny frozen ball inside looked innocuous, but Marissa knew that it contained millions of tiny viruses, any one or two of which, when thawed, were capable of killing a human being.
Slipping the vial back in its slot, Marissa lifted the next, checking to see if the ice ball appeared intact. She continued this process without seeing anything suspicious until finally she reached vial E39. The vial was empty!
Quickly, Marissa went through the rest of the samples: All were as they should be. She held vial E39 up to the light, squinting through her face mask to make sure she wasn’t making a mistake. But there was no doubt: there was definitely nothing in the vial. Although one of the scientists might have misplaced a sample, she could think of no reason a vial might be empty. All her inarticulated fears that the outbreaks had stemmed from accidental or even deliberate misuse of a CDC vial filled with an African virus seemed to be confirmed.
A sudden movement caught Marissa’s attention. The wheel to the door leading into the disinfecting chamber was turning! Someone was coming in!
Marissa was gripped with a paralyzing panic. For a moment she just stared helplessly. When she’d recovered enough to move, she put the empty vial back in the tray, returned it to the freezer and closed the lid. She thought about running, but there was no place to go. Maybe she could hide. She looked toward the darkened area by the animal cages. But there was no time. She heard the seal break on the door and two people entered the lab, dressed anonymously in plastic isolation suits. The smaller of the two seemed familiar with the lab, showing his larger companion where he should plug in his air hose.
Terrified, Marissa stayed where she was. There was always the faint chance that they were CDC scientists checking on some ongoing experiment. That hope faded quickly when she realized they were coming directly toward her. It was at that point she noticed that the smaller individual was holding a syringe. Her eyes flicked to his companion, who lumbered forward, his elbow fixed at an odd angle, stirring an unpleasant memory.
Marissa tried to see their faces, but the glare off the face plates made it impossible.
“Blumenthal?” asked the smaller of the two in a harsh, masculine voice. He reached out and rudely angled Marissa’s mask against the light. Apparently he recognized her, because he nodded to his companion, who reached for the zipper on her suit.
“No!” screamed Marissa, realizing these men were not security. They were about to attack her just as she’d been attacked in her house. Desperately, she snatched the bicycle lock from the freezer and threw it. The confusion gave Marissa just enough time to detach her air hose and run toward the animal area.