Code: Black
Part 1
by G.M. Reinfeldt
Copyright © 2012 by G.M. Reinfeldt
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapters
1
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
Code: Black Part 1
Copyright © 2012 by G.M. Reinfeldt
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
Published by G.M. Reinfeldt
First edition: December 2012
Produced in the United States of America
Code: Black Part 1
After 27 years as a hematologist, Hily Threslin thought she had seen it all. She now volunteered for the Red Cross testing the blood drawn for abnormalities. She was a well-oiled machine when it came to this; draw a droplet, drip it into a vial, mix in the solution for the flavor of the test, shake, extract one cc, apply the drop to the test paper, verify result is clear, and repeat with the next test.
“Clear,” Hily muttered under her breath as she slipped the test paper into the file pile and pulled the next vial. Aside from a unique numeric identifier it is no different than the last vial. She slid out a new paper and jotted down the code. Then right back into rhythm. Draw, drip, mix, shake, extract, test, verify. “Clear,” she muttered for the 37th time today. Shifting the page to the file pile, she paused. “Wait a second. That’s not right.” The result was anything, but clear. It was black. “Must be an error,” she whispered quietly in spite of being the only one in the office. She ran the test again.
Draw. Drip. Mix. Shake. Extract. Test. Here she waited, watching the paper as it changed color. “Black?” The increased focus had not change the result. “That can’t be. Black isn’t even an option,” she mumbled while powering up her unused laptop.
She ran her finger over the touch pad bringing her computer to life. She quickly entered in her volunteer ID number and password. The computer loaded the necessary programs within a few moments. Hily selected the internal search engine and entered C-13 Blood Test Black. The screen flashed twice as it loaded the search results. She scrolled to the first option and selecting it. The screen flashed once more and inexplicably rebooted her laptop in the process. “Screw you, IT Nazis,” she cursed. This was a common curse heard around the lab anytime someone had a computer problem whether it was IT or the users fault. Now she waited as the computer powered back up.
Once the computer was powered up she was greeted by a friendly security prompt once more. She punched in her volunteer ID number and password. The screen flashed error. She reentered the information. Error. A third attempt brought up a failed access screen. “Awww, come on,” She groaned as she walked away from her station. She had to either wait 15 minutes to try again or reset her password on the main server. The desktop in the main office allowed for direct access to the main server.
It was getting late and the building was vacated for the weekend. The majority of the offices were powered down to conserve energy consumption. The main office looked eerily different without lights on. “Black?” she quietly questioned herself. Her palms were sweaty. She slowly opened the office door. Quickly slipped in her hand in, and flicked the light switch on. The lights flashed to life momentarily blinding her. A short stumble backward and she felt something against her back. Hily squealed in fright. She wanted to run but terror had petrified her muscles. She could not move, only wait.
Nothing happened. As the seconds slipped away she could begin to feel her legs once more. She turned around and was relieved to only find an awkwardly balanced three whole punch. “Calm down,” she reassured herself. Hily made her way around the desk to the secure desktop. She turned on the screen. It came to life prompting for an ID or password. She punched in her Volunteer ID and selected the password reset option. Hitting a few more keys and answering a couple of questions she is allowed access to Red Cross intranet and search engine. She entered C-13 Blood Test Black. One link existed.
Hily selected the link. It explained the C-13 Blood Test procedure. She skimmed the general information. She slowed down and reviewed the steps confirming each as she read them. At the conclusion of the document there was a result sections. Hily scanned through the colors and found black at the bottom of the list. There were two actions noted; 1) Validate the results, 2) If the results remain black contact 1-555-321-9119. “There is nothing more ominous than a phone with 911 in it,” she quietly mused.
The phone rang, ripping Hily’s attention from the procedure document. The caller ID noted the phone number as private. She ignored it. After a few seconds of silence the phone rang again. Private number. Each ring beckoned her to answer. Against her better judgment her hand edged toward the phone. She gripped the handset, raised it to her ear and tentatively whispered, “Hello.”
On the other end was silence, for a few seconds, followed by a three clicks. Hily hung up the handset and left the main office. She returned to her lab station. She used her lab phone to call the number. After a few audible pops, she was prompted to enter her ID number and say her location. This was followed by a pre-recorded voice softly saying “Please remain on the line for the assistance.”
“Hello. Please confirm your ID number and location,” spoke an anonymous voice.
Hily confirmed her information. The nameless voice responded, “Thank you, Ms. Threslin. Please confirm the test now.”
“I have already confirmed the C-13 results twice. It is black.” Hily stated plainly. “What do I do next?”
“Ms. Threslin, you will need to retest the sample with me on the phone.”
“Ok.” Hily gathered the proper papers and began. She gingerly drew a single droplet of blood, dispensed it into an empty sterile vial with extreme caution and exaggerated movements. She extracted one cc of the C-13 solution, dripped it in the vial. Hily inserted the stopper into the vial and placed the vial into the mixer and activated it. After two minutes she removed the mixture. She felt the air around her growing thick with anticipation. The other end of the phone line was eerily quiet adding to the pressure. She withdrew one cc of the solution. Sliding the test paper under the dropper she caught the droplet. “The result is,” Hily paused as the result registered. “Black…I… sorry…I mean...Clear. It is clear.”
“Ms. Threslin, your next step is to discontinue testing and go home for the night. Thank you.”
The anonymous voice on the other end of the phone line disconnected before Hily could say anything further. She completed another round of testing on sample 37. Draw, drip, mix, shake, extract, test, verify. “Clear.” She grabbed sample 38. Draw, drip, mix, shake, extract, test, verify. “Clear.” She is still unconvinced. She pulled sample 37 one more time. Draw, drip, mix, shake, extract, test, verify. “Clear.” She still had her doubts. Hily searched for the prior black test results in her file, but when she found them the results all shown clear. Hily’s jaw dropped.
“How could this be?” Hily questioned no one in particular. She continued to look at all four test pages. She could not make any sense of what happened. “I know it had been black, but all are clear now.” She filed the papers. “I need a vacation,” She said under her breath adding, “and a drink.” Walking back into the office she logged off the desktop. Hily took another moment to clean her station and turn off the lights. On the way out she locked up the lab door.
Hily strolled into the parking lot.
The clouds fought against the stars not allowing anything to penetrate its cover. The night sky was unblemished by any light. It was black out. Hily held her keys tightly. She clicked her fob to unlock her car. Her headlights flashed to life revealing a shadowy figure standing at the far side of the parking lot. She was gripped by panic as the shadowy figure moved toward her. She rotated her keys in her fist so a key protruded from between each finger.
The shadowy figure walked to another car in the parking lot. Hily was at her car door. Exhaling loud she kicked herself for being paranoid. Swinging open her door, she hopped in. The creeping tendrils of fear gripped her even inside the safety of her car. Her paranoia grew as she locked her car doors and checked her backseat. There was nothing back there except empty soda bottles and some stray saltines. Another loud exhale, “Come on. Get a grip of yourself.”
The car came to life with a turn of the key. Boom! Hily was so on edge her head bounced off the ceiling of her car. A car backfired in the parking lot. Hily’s knuckles began to turn white. Releasing the steering wheel she massaged her hands. The stranger’s car left as she watched with bated breath convinced that he was there for her. “Irrational fear,” she badgered herself.
She