Page 99 of Savagely Yours
Dr. Okoro’s lab was located in the Woodhaven basement, but few knew it existed, let alone where. If anyone who lived in Woodhaven knew what he did—and kept—there, half the residents would no longer be able to sleep at night.
I barely felt comfortable taking Larke down the narrow flight of stairs into the space, which was inadequately illuminated by flickering emergency lamps and a couple of LED strips.
The room housed three stainless steel tables, and there were filing cabinets everywhere. The tabletops overflowed with material, and a cot sat tucked in one corner, next to a small nightstand, with a pill bottle knocked over on top.
At the opposite end, a sheet hung from a track system in the ceiling. Dr. Okoro was seated at one of the steel tables, bent over a heavy textbook, his jaw covered by a dark beard with patches of white. His dark-brown skin looked sallow and slightly green underneath the LEDs.
His forehead fell to the book.
Then, we heard snoring.
Larke looked up at me. “Uh…”
Dr. Okoro’s head popped up, and he snorted, rubbing his eyes.
“Dr. Okoro,” I called.
He turned.
At first, he squinted behind his dark-framed glasses, but then his eyes lit up. He hopped up from his chair, scrubbing at his face with both hands as if holding an imaginary washcloth. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “We don’t have much time.”
He headed toward the sheet.
Larke started after him, but I gently grabbed her wrist. I knew what was behind that curtain, and I knew she’d never gotten as up close and personal to one of “them” as I had.
“The subject is restrained,” Dr. Okoro reassured us. “I tried sedating her, but it didn’t work. Not even propofol worked. Next, I tried antifungals, but there was no effect. Antipsychotics? Gas? Still nothing. So, she’s awake.”
“Who’s awake?” Larke asked.
Dr. Okoro drew back the fabric.
Solana lay on her back, strapped to an inverted hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling as if in stasis or a catatonic state. I took several steps backward, though not out of fear. It was because I could now hear Larke breathing, and she’d grabbed onto the back of my arm.
“She’s quiet,” I pointed out. “Why isn’t she, I don’t know, growling? When Cerner and I first saw her, she was more vocal.”
Larke squeezed.
I looked down.
She searched my eyes and then glanced at the bed. I nodded to confirm that she was right; it was Solana, and I didn’t know how Solana had gotten to Totten or what happened to her to make her this way.
Dr. Okoro shined a light into Solana’s eyes.
Solana didn’t flinch.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Well, I sort of know. It was an experiment. When I say nothing worked, I meannothingworked. All of the human-based, measurable indicators of health appear to be present, but her system doesn’t react to the medications as expected. Her nervous system no longer functions in the standard biological way of most Homo sapiens. So, it was either this or cryostasis—sort of.”
“And what’s ‘this’?” I asked.
“Tonic immobility. Sharks, when you flip them onto their backs, enter this sort of trancelike state called tonic immobility. It’s not just sharks it happens to, but my son loves,” he shook his head,“lovedsharks. That’s where I learned it. I gave it a try, not expecting much. It seems to have some effect.”
“Like a possum? Like she’s playing dead in a sense?”
“No, no. Higher brain function is gone. We’re no longer looking at a treatment for this thing. We’re looking at prevention. Once turned, nothing in my research has shown that they can be turned back. There’s too much dead brain tissue.”
Larke was still quiet.
I glanced to make sure she was okay, but her gaze was riveted to Solana.
