Hippocrates Shattered excerpt

“I’m really a blade man,” he informed them, cutting through their shocked silence. “Guns are so impersonal. But seeing as how there are two of you, I’m not taking any chances. Of course, you realize I won’t hesitate to shoot both of you if you show yourselves.”

“You murdered Madeline, didn’t you?” Bridget said, trying to breathe through the gasoline vapors while searching for something—anything—in the lab that could help them. Then she saw it, the one thing that might save them when Raynorr made his next inevitable move.

“I beg your pardon?” Raynorr said.

“Her throat was ruined by animal teeth, but the dogs didn’t kill her.”

“Didn’t they?”

“It was you!”

“Really? What makes you think so?”

“Your dogs weren’t as thorough as you may have thought. I know a little about you now. You’re so caught up in your personal vendetta that you’re willing to kill anyone who gets in your way. Did you know that while you were murdering those executives you also infected a young girl with your leukemia-conjuring virus? Did you know that, Doctor Raynorr?”

“So, not only do you know who I am, you also know about the true nature of the virus? I knew you were talented and astute, but I really had no idea, Doctor Devereaux. Ah, but it’s not really Doctor Devereaux anymore, is it, Bridget?”

She bit her lip.

“Oh, yes, I know all about you,” Raynorr said. “I called an old acquaintance at the hospital and he provided the sordid details. Gerard Handlaw makes Bill Clinton look like a boy scout, doesn’t he? They did you just like they did me, Bridget. Don’t you just want to tear them apart for ruining your life?”

“The girl, Doctor,” she said, trying to fend off his attack.“What about the girl?”

“...the girl? I’ve seen thousands like her perish from human cruelty. The one you mention is simply the first truly innocent victim in my war. Madeline was the second. Now I’m afraid you and your friend there will be the third and fourth.

“It’s too bad, really. When I first saw you walk into the hematology lab at Chambers I knew you were different from the other interns. Oh, you were young and naive like the rest of them—but you had a drive, a determination to push through that went far beyond the norm. You didn’t accept the dismissive opinions of your superiors concerning the strange leukemic episodes, even when they pressured you to do so. You kept running your tests, kept trying to save those who were beyond saving. Handlaw was a fool to throw you out. Had you not challenged your superiors quite so openly, you would have made an outstanding doctor.”

Bridget backed away from the stairs and into Don. At first he stood like a stone statue, but when she pushed he moved back along with her. They exchanged a look. It was obvious he didn’t understand her intent, but was willing to follow her lead.

“You know they’ll catch you,” Bridget called up to Raynorr, raising her voice as she and Don retreated. They contacted the far wall and could retreat no further. There were no windows, no doors other than the one Raynorr blocked with his gun. The gasoline stench was making her eyes water.

“They have no idea of what they’re up against,” Raynorr said. “My new virus can reproduce. It thrives in chlorinated water. I can now infect thousands, and hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions. I can release the virus into the drinking water of any number of cities. I can destroy any population of my choosing.”

“You can’t want that.”

“The war has escalated. The greedy fools have chosen to ignore me, so now I have to beat them across their snouts with a two-by-four to get their attention, as an over-priced, pompous ass of a lawyer I once knew was fond of saying.”

“You can’t commit mass murder,” Bridget said. “The people of Raleigh had nothing to do with what happened to you.”

“Innocent lives carry the most impact, my dear. Just ask McVeigh or the Irish Republican Army or any terrorist from the Middle East.” He paused for a moment as if retrieving something from his pocket. “Well, goodbye then, Bridget Devereaux. It has been a pleasure. And to your silent friend, well, I’m afraid for you this is one of life’s unfortunate circumstances.”

“Murdering bastard!” Don cried. “To hell with you!”

“All in good time, my friend. All in good time.”

“The police are on their way!” Bridget shouted.

“But I’m already gone. My essentials are in the car. By the time they connect me to Madeline I’ll be in another part of the country. The virus will grow and soon everyone who drinks Raleigh’s water will come down with a case of drastically accelerated leukemia. They’ll perish by the thousands.”

“You can’t do that!” She kicked her gas-soaked shoes off and pointed for Don to do the same.
He complied, his eyes wide and fearful.

“I can and will do it,” Raynorr snarled. “This is war, my war!”

“But you’re a doctor. You were meant to heal, not murder.”

“Life changes when they take your soul.”

“You swore to protect life when you took the Hippocratic Oath.”

“That oath was shattered by managed care.”

“I don’t buy that. Companies don’t take the oath.”

“No, but they have turned it into a farce. Managed care murders by denying treatment. Like presidents who lie under oath, they get away with fucking the American people. Doctors are now bound by financial considerations, not human need. And it doesn’t stop with the insured—now the uninsured are more fucked than ever. They get turned away at the hospital door to bleed out in the gutter. Hippocrates’ ancient ghost has been spinning in his long-forgotten grave ever since managed care took over.”

Bridget opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. What could she say? Much of what Raynorr said was true.

Raynorr spoke softer this time, “Do you know what it’s like to lose everything, Bridget?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I do. And I don’t hurt people because of it.”

“Then you know the hell of it,” he said. “Perhaps you’ll rise from the fire like a Phoenix...but it would be better if you didn’t. The world doesn’t deserve you.”

As if sensing the end, Don suddenly pressed forward. “I’m going to rush him!” he hissed to her.

Bridget stepped in front of him, her hands up. “He’ll shoot you.”

“I can’t just let him fry us.”

“He won’t. He’ll try but he won’t—”

They heard the ch! ch! ch! of Raynorr striking up a lighter.

“He’s going to—hey!”

Bridget shoved Don inside the open refrigerator. He twisted, landed on his side, then, understanding her meaning, pulled his legs inside. He held his hand out for her.

She caught a glimpse of the flaming Molotov cocktail as it flew down the stairwell. The walls glowed eerily with its passage.

Bridget leaped.