After the Cure Read online

Six Years Later . . .

  "You're Ms. Rider?"

  The man squinted at her through thick sleet as he held the heavy glass door open for her. Nella tried not to slip as she trotted inside. She flicked cool gray slush from her leather briefcase with one hand. She suppressed a shiver, desperate to appear older and harder than she felt. The man next to her was almost unnaturally tall and she had to look almost straight up to see his face.

  "You must be Mr. Courtlen." She smiled pleasantly, then immediately felt foolish. Nella coughed lightly to cover her embarrassment and said, "And it's Dr. Rider please."

  Mr. Courtlen smiled, crinkling a thick raised scar on his cheek. "Of course, my apologies Dr. Rider. It's nice to meet you."

  Nella was surprised. "Really?" she asked before she could stop herself. Mr. Courtlen's smile was warmer, more genuine this time.

  "Really," he said, "We know you're here at the judge's request, but whichever way this trial turns out, it's important that history can show all the participants were completely sane. If the judge hadn't ordered these evaluations, I would have requested them." He extended a hand toward her. Nella shook it, but felt more rough scar tissue on his palm. She fought a sympathetic wince.

  "So you aren't intending to go with an insanity defense?" she asked.

  "Well," he laughed, "that's not really for me to decide is it? But I don't think we'll need to." Mr.Courtlen held a hand out toward the long blue corridor. "This way please. Dr. Pazzo is expecting us."

  She quickly fell a few paces behind him, no match for his lengthy stride. Nella marveled again at his height. Imagine how fast he must have been, she thought, I doubt anyone could have outrun him. And then those long skinny arms would wrap around you and yank you in toward snapping teeth. She shuddered and tried to think of something else. They had reached the metal detector and Mr. Courtlen was removing his watch and car keys.

  "Where's Stan?" he asked a nervous looking soldier.

  "Uh . . . He went to get coffee," the kid managed to squeak, "He'll be back in a minute." Mr. Courtlen nodded. At least I'm not the only one scared to death of this place, thought Nella as she watched the young guard bouncing his knee. He gripped his weapon so hard that his knuckles glinted like bone. Dr. Rider flashed him a kind smile when he glanced at her and she could see his grip relax as he responded. Mr. Courtlen waved at a middle aged officer coming toward them.

  "Hey Stan," he said, "Is it any good today?"

  "Hi Frank. I made it myself, still have a can or two of the good stuff kicking around. I'll be glad when someone can figure out how to grow coffee beans in the populated zone again though. There's still half a pot in the break room, help yourself." Stan passed through the detector and set two full mugs on the table. "Who is our visitor?"

  Mr. Courtlen said, "This is Dr. Rider. She is the court appointed psychiatrist for both Dr. Pazzo and Miss Connelly. She'll be a regular here for the duration."

  She saw Officer Kembrey raise an eyebrow at Mr. Courtlen. He obviously thought she wasn't going to last. She brushed it off. Nella stuck her hand out and Stan shook it heartily. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Stan Kembrey but everyone just calls me Stan. Terry and I will be here every day shift. If you come at night you'll see Wanda Treim. Dr. Pazzo and Miss Connelly are the only detainees at this facility, so the rules are a little more relaxed. For now, at least, until and unless Miss Connelly becomes violent, you can bring pens or pencils into the cell to make notes with. Of course, if it were me in that cell, I think I'd rely on my memory instead. Dr. Pazzo seems to be in a calm state of mind. However, since the Cure doesn't seem to have worked as well on some of the earlier cases, there are big green buttons in the hallway in case either of them 'reverts.' Press one and all the guards will come running. If you have any questions about how things are supposed to work you can usually find the Warden in his office. If you have questions about how things actually work, well, Terry and I are here to serve." Officer Kembrey flashed her a smile and a wink. Mr. Courtlen rolled his eyes dramatically and walked through the detector, immediately setting it off. The younger soldier leapt forward, pointing his weapon at the lawyer. But Mr. Courtlen simply waited and Stan's only reaction was to the junior soldier's zeal.

  "Relax Terry, Frank isn't going to stage a jailbreak. Just wand him. Should be near the right shoulder." He handed a gray wand to Robert who looked torn between taking it and maintaining his grip on the weapon.

  "You know Frank, you should really have that taken out one of these days."

  Mr. Courtlen laughed and rubbed the side of his bald head in embarrassment. "The doctor said it would be worse to take it out than leave it in for now. At least until someone starts producing antibiotics again. Besides-" he looked toward his feet, avoiding their gaze, "My wife gave me this one. Before- well, you know."

  The back of Nella's neck prickled and her mind drew back, rejecting the picture that tried to grow there.

  "Jesus, Frank, I'm sorry." Stan shook his head and then snapped at Terry, "Get on with it soldier! These folks have places to be."

  Mr. Courtlen took off his sleek gray jacket and spread his long arms across the hall. Nella's mind flashed another picture of his hands turned into claws, long black nails ragged and stained and thin arms coated in dried black blood to his elbows. Her neck felt pinched and cold and she noticed her breathing had become rapid and shallow. Be professional, she thought, and forced her aching fingers to relax on the handle of her briefcase. Terry swiped the wand over Mr. Courtlen and was satisfied when it only screeched near the lawyer's shoulder. Officer Kembrey held his hand out for Nella's briefcase.

  "I'll scan that for you Dr. Rider."

  She handed him the case with a smile and walked through the detector. Mr. Courtlen was calmly buttoning his jacket as Terry looked nervously on. Stan handed Nella her briefcase.

  "You're all clear," he said, "Have a nice day."

  "You too," Nella mumbled.

  Mr. Courtlen touched her shoulder and she jumped. "This way, Dr. Rider."

  They walked the rest of the way down the hallway and paused before a dented metal door. The lawyer reached for a large button to be buzzed in but Nella stopped him. "Mr. Courtlen, wait," she said, "The best way for me to get an accurate picture of the defendants' mental health is for me to build a rapport with them first. I know you don't have to discuss this, but if you are willing I would be grateful. Is there anything I should steer clear of during these first few sessions?"

  He frowned slightly in concentration. "Well, I think you'll find Dr. Pazzo is not what the press had made him out to be. He's actually been remarkably patient with answering questions, and I think you'll find him polite, if a bit on the cool side. Of course, I assume you are intelligent enough to not ask very stupid questions, like: 'What does it taste like?' or 'Are you invulnerable except if you get shot in the head?' And for the love of all things sacred, don't call him a zombie." Mr. Courtlen threw up his arms and then gave her a conspiratorial smile. He pressed the buzzer.

  "And Miss Connelly?"

  Nella watched the smile drop from his face. "I'm- I'm not Miss Connelly's counsel. I don't think I could really say."

  "Of course," said Nella as the dented door swung open. She managed a bright smile at him as she stepped toward the door. Mr. Courtlen held it open but gently caught her wrist to stop her. Nella flinched as the rigid bones of his hand closed around her. He ignored her revulsion.

  "But what Stan said about pens? I think I would trust him if it were me. Just to be safe." He let her go and straightened his jacket but the color was high in his face.

  "Thanks," she said, though he had only made her more nervous. Mr. Courtlen cleared his throat.

  "Dr. Pazzo is in the common room, if you'll follow me." He appeared unruffled as he strode through the door that separated the world from its most notorious living villain.

  Robert Pazzo