The Creation Of A Cure

Chapter One -A Chance Meeting?

        You were young only 25 yet you were a leading expert in the field of medicine, biomedical science and bioengineering. Your past was something you would rather forget. Your parents died when you were still a child and that is when you went into foster care. Forster care was nothing but pain until May and John took you in. Sighing you throw your keys on the small table by the doorway. You pinch the bridge of your nose, too say today had been along day was an understatement. Your home was one of few comforts because to be honest you simply were not use to them. Only three rooms in your house were fully furnished, the kitchen, your office and your library. Your place your grocery bags down on the dining room table. Careful not to disrupt your current research of personal interest the black plague. Your kitchen was custom made to your ever desire, counter tops to match your height, padding under the flooring even the oven's and fridge were custom made. You turned on the lights and pour yourself a glass of sweet tea. You take a large gulp of the glass and close your eyes. Your were exhausted, your research was currently under review due to a death that had occurred in your lab. The funding that provides over 30 people with a job was now under threat. At least with the corners report saying the death was not caused by any current disease in the lab confirmed there was no danger in continuing but it also raises the question of what the hell happened.
  "God I need a vacation." You said. Your door bell chimes making you jump slightly. Running excitedly to the door you pray it is the package you have been waiting for and to delight it is.
  "Sign here miss." The young man says.
  "Are you new." You inquire. "Normally Ben delivers my packages at this time of day."
   "No miss just covering for him while he is sick." The young man replies smiling. Waving him off you rush inside and carefully open the package. The smell of antiquity hit you, as you grab a pair of soft gloves putting them on. You take a hold of the small leather bound book and smile. To say your interests were unusual and tad dark was a huge understatements. Plague doctors had interested you since childhood when you first saw one in a book on medieval medicine. Your love of them only grew since then and expanded into a love of outdated medical technology and the theories that inspired them. Today's package contained a diary of a supposed plague doctor and his surgical kit. The translation manuscript was included this time and would serve as a base of reference for this bit of work. Your stomach gave a loud and unhappy growl. Giving in quickly you put the book back in the box and start dinner. You were technically on leave while the investigation was taking place but that idea was a joke. Thankfully tomorrow your colleague Dr Warren was back from his sick leave and had kindly given you the day off tomorrow. You munched on this and that as you made your pad thai. When a sudden and hard knock came at your door. Turning off the heat you get giddy, two packages in one day this was epic. Opening the door without checking a man in a plague doctor attire stands before you. He is visibly out of breath bent slightly and leaning against your door. Blood is trickling down his left side as he grabs the wound trying to hold it close. Loosing his balance he falls forward, you reach out and catch his upper body. He looks at you shocked and in disbelief.
    "I am a doctor. I will not very well leave you to bleed to death in my door way." You say far more harshly then intending to. Figuring the look was because you intended to help a bleeding stranger dress in costume.
    "That still does not explain it." He replies. His voice sounded monotone and deep as it echoed in almost a metallic sounding way.
    "Let's get you inside so I can stabilize your wounds." You say flatly. He remained silent and observant as you sling his arm around your shoulder and help him walk inside your home. Sitting him on a dining room chair you grab a clean towel and press it into the wound to help slow the bleeding.
   "Do you feel no different." He asks you.
   "Why would I feel different. I have seen far worse wounds then this one." You laugh. Reach out he touches your shoulder, again pausing in confusion.  "What are you doing?" You ask raising an eye brow.
    "I do not understand." He says more to himself then you. Shaking your head you chalk it up to trauma.
     "Stay here I need to get some supplies to dress your wounds." You say lightly touching his arm.
    "No need good doctor I have my own." He answers with a wave of his hand. You give a soft laugh and look around him about to ask were they may be. He pulls an old medical bag from seemingly out of no where with in his robes. Standing back from him you frown,
    "How did you do that?" You ask. He laughs softly but dose not answer. You move the box from earlier to give him some room. Your heart beat increases as you watch him lay out several medical tool and supplies. "So you are a  doctor as well?" You question.
    "Of course." He answers as if it is obvious.
    "Would you at least like some clean water to flush the wound." You ask holding an unopened bottle of saline water.
   "That would be most useful." He replies hold out his hand. "Do you need assistance removing your costumes." You inquire.
    "What costume?" He replies threading a needle. You knit your brows in a combination of frustration and confusion. 
    "What are you doing?" You say exasperated "If you stitch the muscle tissue like that it will tare." Without a second thought you push his hands away and begin correcting his mistake.
    "I am quiet capable-" he begin. Quickly you cut him off clearly annoyed.
     "Clearly you are out of practice then. Or you would know that if you stitch the external oblique they must be looser or they will tare when you stand straight." You quip. "Your lucky it did not go deeper."  He remains silent as you finish for him. Washing your hands in the bathroom you pause and look to the doorway. His stance is tense and aggressive.
   "Are you one of the foundation." He asks.
   "Foundation?" You say puzzled. He visibly relaxes and crosses his arms,
   "This is a most fortunate turn of events." He says.
    "Excuse me?" You say.
     "You neither work for my enemies or are affected by the pestilence. Your skills in medicine are most knowledgeable and you seem to be of the same breed as me." He answers. You remain silent an odd feeling in your gut that something is very wrong.
   "What pestilence would I be affected with." You inquire.
    "Why the great pestilence of course." He answers.
    "The black plague has been cured for quiet some time." You state flatly.
     "Excuse me?" He asks.
    "The bubonic plague, the black death, the blue sickness, la pest, the great calamity?" You replied exasperated.
     "La Pest?!" He muses with a chuckle "No good doctor I assure you my pestilence poses a much greater threat to humanity."
    "Please remove your mask, it is very difficult for me to tell if you are lying with it on." You say frowning deeply.
   "Right now that is most impossible." He says. "We are wasting time. I ask for your assistance in finding my cure." He takes a step into the bathroom, when you hear your front door being kicked in. He grabs your arm pulling you away from the window and shielding your body with his own as two men burst threw the windows.
    "Target 049 acquired." The solider says.
    "Proceeded with extreme caution. Use of force has been approved." The radio says curtly.
     "Hands up 049, no sudden moments or we will fire." The soldier yells. The man they call 049 straightens up revealing you pressed against him.
   "What the hell is going on!" You yell. They pause and look at each other,
    "Sir are you seeing this." One man says in disbelief.
    "Secure civilian as well while I confer with 05." The radio says. You narrow your eyes and feel ping of sympathy for the man they refer to as 049. Something was very wrong here, and you wanted no part in helping them. You look up and see he has dark grey eyes that shimmer with a deep intelligence and sorrow. They also looked foggy with exhaustion and pain. You lean into him and whisper gently,
    "Swear to me you will not harm anyone."
    "I swear." He replies. "I only seek a cure."You take a deep breath and nod.
     "I repeat miss step away from 049 or we will be force to fire." The solider yells. Stepping away from him and toward the solider you pause.
      "I am sorry." You say. Their momentary pause at your words allows you to act. Side stepping you punch the solider in his exposed throat and grab the assault rifle. Shooting the other one in the leg causing him to fall. You grab 049 arm and pull him out of the widow. You both land on the ground and run for the cover of the forest by your home. What the fuck did I just do you scream in your head. What the fuck! You scream at yourself. Armed solider flood the forest as you run beside 049. You both remain silent, focusing on running.
    "FREEZE!' They scream at us. "Where is the fucking sedation team."
    "Down here." You call to him as you slide down a hill. He follows you clumsily yet quickly. Standing you feel your body pitch forward. As 049 pushes you forward, taking a dart in his arm. Another dart quickly finds your shoulder as your world quickly goes dark.