Читать книгу Darkest Night - Will Hill, Will Hill - Страница 15

Matt Browning’s stomach rumbled so aggressively that he immediately looked around to check whether any of his colleagues had heard it, his face reddening with embarrassment. Mercifully, it had either not been as loud as it had seemed or his fellow members of the Lazarus Project were simply too engrossed in their work to have noticed it; there was not so much as a raised eyebrow to be seen.

Matt checked his watch and saw that it was well past noon. He had been at his desk for almost seven hours, and had not eaten since grabbing a sandwich sometime the previous afternoon.

He was absolutely starving.

Matt got to his feet and carefully stretched his arms out above his head until he felt the muscles in his shoulders creak. The doctors had told him he could remove the foam neck brace tomorrow, but for now it was still wrapped round his throat like a thick collar. His back and neck were in constant pain, the result of the car crash he had caused in San Francisco, but a regimen of dizzyingly strong pills was keeping it at bay. The finger that Major Simmons had broken as he gripped the steering wheel was splinted and wrapped in bandages, but mercifully it was the little one, and it didn’t interfere with his ability to work.

He lowered his arms and took a look around the lab. At the far end of the long room, Professor Karlsson, the project’s Director, was deep in conversation with two of his senior staff. In the corner nearest the door, three of Matt’s colleagues were sitting in plastic chairs, staring intently into a slowly rotating holographic model of their best guess at what the genetic structure of a cure for vampirism might look like: a swirling cone of DNA strands, balls of blue and red proteins rotating round grey stretches that represented sections as yet unmapped, of which there were still a frustratingly large number. The rest of the Lazarus staff were huddled at their desks, grinding through the seemingly endless potential formulas that required testing on the project’s supercomputer array. Every one would almost certainly turn out to be flawed, at which point the results would be written up and filed away, and the process would begin again.

To Matt’s right, her blonde head buried in what looked like a protein recombination equation, sat Natalia Lenski, the girl he no longer knew exactly how to refer to. His friend? His girlfriend?

He had no idea.

Whatever existed between them was fragile, the result of a halting, tentative courtship involving two people to whom confidence did not come naturally, a courtship that had culminated in a kiss that had quite literally taken Matt’s breath away. It had been instigated by Natalia as he arrived back from California and been designed to soften the blow of the news he was returning home to: that Jamie Carpenter, his best friend, had been bitten by a vampire, and turned.

There had been two more kisses since. Whereas the first had been full of fire and passion, the second had been gentle, almost chaste, as Matt lay in the infirmary after a scan had confirmed there was no permanent damage to his spine. The third had been frenzied, a stolen moment the previous day when they had run into each other in the Level B corridor, a remarkable coincidence given how much time they both spent in the Lazarus laboratories. The momentarily empty corridor and the possibility of being caught had lent the kiss an urgency that had left Matt dizzy; he still blushed at the memory of it.

But that had been yesterday. Now he was standing two metres away from her without the slightest clue what he should say or do, and the determined way that Natalia was staring at her screen suggested she had no more idea than he did. In moments like this, the ones that other people appeared to navigate with ease but which he found as difficult and confusing as a labyrinth, Matt often asked himself what Jamie would do. The honest answer was usually something reckless and arguably foolhardy, but it was still a helpful exercise. Inaction did not come naturally to Jamie; he would do something, even if it turned out to be wrong, and Matt was gradually realising that it was better to try and fail than do nothing.

He took a deep breath, and crouched down beside Natalia’s desk.

“Hey,” he whispered.

The Russian girl turned her head to look at him, and the smile on her face made his head spin; it was wide, genuine, and utterly beautiful.

“Hello,” she said, her voice low. “Are you OK?”

Matt nodded. “I’m good,” he said. “Well, not really. I’m hungry. Come to the canteen with me.”

Natalia frowned. “Now? I have work to do.”

“It’ll still be here when you get back,” said Matt. “Did you have breakfast this morning?”

“No.”

“Then you have no excuse,” said Matt. “Come on. I’m buying.”

Her frown deepened. “The canteen is free, Matt.”

“I know,” he replied, and smiled. “It was a figure of … oh, forget it. Just come with me.”

“To our canteen? Or the one downstairs.”

“Downstairs,” he said. “The main one. I want to get out of here for fifteen minutes.”

Natalia nodded. “OK,” she said, and pushed her chair back from her desk. She got to her feet and blushed a delicate pale pink as Matt stood up and looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Not a thing,” he replied. “Let’s go.”

They walked along the corridor and into the lift without saying a word.

The silence wasn’t awkward, however; it felt safe, and comfortable, and as soon as Natalia pressed the button marked G and the lift began to descend, she turned and kissed him, her body pressed against his. Matt’s eyes flew wide with surprise, then closed as he kissed her back, his hands on her waist as her fingers pressed into his shoulders. A flash of pain raced down his back, but he ignored it, concentrating only on not concentrating on anything, allowing himself to sink into a moment that needed no input from his endlessly rational mind.

The lift slowed to a halt with a familiar beep and Matt and Natalia sprang apart as the metal doors slid open, revealing two Operators in full uniform. They nodded as the two teenagers exited the lift, their faces flushed, their skin tingling. Matt momentarily considered taking hold of Natalia’s hand, but quickly decided against it; the busy canteen was only a hundred or so metres away, and it was not the time or place for such a wildly extravagant display of public affection.

Natalia smiled as he held open the canteen door for her. The cavernous room was as loud as ever, full of conversation and laughter and the clatter of plates on trays and boots on the tiled floor. As Matt led Natalia to where the long run of metal counters began, she whispered to him in a voice that was barely audible.

“People are looking at me.”

He frowned, and glanced around the room. A few heads were turned in their direction, although the expressions on the faces did not appear unkind, or hostile; if anything, they seemed curious. Matt stared back, until understanding hit him and he turned to Natalia with a smile on his face.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not you. Well, it is, but it’s both of us. It’s Lazarus. People aren’t used to seeing us out of the labs.” He tapped the distinctive orange pass that hung from a lanyard around Natalia’s neck. “This is what they’re looking at.”

Natalia nodded with apparent relief. “Good,” she said. “Although it is not as if we never leave the laboratories.”

“Really?” he asked. “When was the last time you were anywhere apart from the labs or your quarters?”

“When I went to the infirmary,” she said, instantly. “To see you.”

Matt smiled. “Fair enough,” he said. “But you know me, and I was here before Lazarus existed. And you know Kate, and Jamie. Most of our colleagues have never spoken to anyone outside the project. I doubt most of them would even know what happened at Château Dauncy if the Professor hadn’t briefed them on it.”

Natalia picked up a pair of trays and slid them on to the first counter. “Perhaps it is better that way,” she said. “Perhaps it is easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Inside the laboratories is science. There are problems that need solutions. Outside there is blood and fear and everything is life or death. Perhaps thinking about that would not help.”

Matt nodded; he knew exactly what she was saying. Not thinking about the consequences of Lazarus undoubtedly made it easier to get up and go to work every morning, whereas dwelling on the ramifications of each day that passed without the discovery of a viable cure would likely be crippling.

“How are your friends?” asked Natalia. “I have not seen them since France.”

Matt shrugged. “Truthfully?” he said, placing a cheeseburger on his plate and piling the remaining space with fries. “I’m not sure. It was bad when they got back, after what happened to Cal, and so many others. Bad for everyone. I don’t know how they keep going, to be honest with you.”

“Because they have faith,” said Natalia, as she filled a small bowl with salmon salad. “They believe we will win in the end.”

“They did believe that,” said Matt. “And I’m sure some of them still do. Not all of them, though. Not any more. That was their best shot, as far as a lot of the Department is concerned. And they missed it.”

“So it is all down to us,” said Natalia, and smiled at him.

Matt grinned. “Then I guess we’re screwed, aren’t we?”

He lifted his tray and led Natalia across to an empty table. He attacked his burger as soon as he sat down, and within three bites half of it had disappeared. Natalia picked delicately at her salad with a fork, a smile on her face as she watched him eat.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. It’s like you’re so deep in work that you manage to forget you’re even hungry, then you remember all at once.”

Natalia frowned. “Why did you say sorry?”

“When?”

“Just then. You said sorry, then that you hadn’t realised how hungry you were. Why were you sorry?”

Matt shrugged. “I saw you smile at how fast I was eating,” he said. “It’s just what people say.”

“Perhaps you apologise too often,” said Natalia.

Matt sat back in his chair. “What makes you say that?”

“I hear you say sorry many times. But you are a brilliant scientist, and a good friend, and you have nothing to apologise for. I wonder if you know that.”

Matt grimaced. “It’s hard for me.”

“To do what? Believe in yourself?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Matt. “I felt like a disappointment for a long time. It’s a hard habit to shake.”

“Because of your father?”

His eyes widened with surprise. “I … yeah. Maybe. I think I always felt like I should apologise for not being the kind of son he wanted.”

“If you are not what he wanted, he is an idiot,” said Natalia, and smiled fiercely at him. “He should have been proud every day to be your father.”

Matt felt heat rise into his cheeks. “Thank you,” he said. “I think he is now. But I wish we could go back in time and have you tell him that.”

“I would tell him.”

He smiled. “I know you would.”

Natalia smiled back at him, then frowned as a shadow fell across their table. Matt looked up and saw an Operator he didn’t recognise standing over them, his helmet under his arm, his face set and solemn.

Oh shit, he thought. We’ve been here before. Why are neither of my super-powerful vampire friends ever with me when this type of crap happens?

“Can we help you?” asked Natalia.

The Operator glanced at her, shook his head, and fixed his gaze on Matt. He put the helmet carefully down on the table and extended his hand towards the teenager. Matt took it, a look of profound confusion on his face, and was almost jerked out of his seat as the Operator pumped his arm up and down.

“I’m Tom Johnson,” he said, in a thick American accent. “You’re Matt Browning, right?”

Matt nodded; bewilderment had robbed him of the ability to form words.

“Awesome,” said Johnson. “I just wanted to tell you that me and the rest of Intelligence heard about what you did in San Francisco. Driving into a brick wall on purpose to take out a double agent? That’s insane, dude. Seriously.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw a smile spread across Natalia’s face.

“Thanks,” he said. “That’s good of you to say. I didn’t really plan it, to be honest.”

Johnson laughed. “Probably a good thing,” he said. “You might have had second thoughts. Your neck all right?”

Matt touched his fingers to the foam brace. “Getting there,” he said. “This comes off tomorrow.”

Johnson nodded. “Glad to hear it. And apologies for the interruption, I just wanted to say hello. You two look after yourselves, all right?”

Matt nodded. “Thanks. We will.”

Johnson turned and strode across the room to where a group of Operators were waiting for him. They exited the canteen, and Matt turned to Natalia as the doors swung shut behind them.

“Well,” he said. “That was different.”