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Chapter Twenty-three

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Mordia entered the bank with the safety deposit box key squeezed tightly in her hand. An armed guard politely smiled as she walked past.

She tried to hide her nervousness, but her increasing heartbeat thundered in her ears. She felt lightheaded and afraid she’d pass out before a teller escorted her to the box.

Suddenly, she wondered if Matthews had lied to her about the money. Coming to San Diego was a gamble, a hope that what he had told her was true and that soon the lifestyle she had lost might be within reach again.

“What if he’s lying?” she thought.

She glanced back at the bank door. Would Matthews even be waiting for her? So many scenarios raced through her mind. Had he needed to come to San Diego for other reasons and given her such a tempting story of wealth that he’d abandon her while she was in the bank? The key might not even fit a deposit box at all.

She reached the teller’s counter and gripped the rail to keep her balance. She was dizzy, filled with fear and worry that she had been deceived.

“Can I help you?” The teller asked with a broad smile. The name plaque showed her name: Tess Becks.

“I need to open my safety deposit box,” Mordia replied.

“One second.” Tess picked up the phone. Across the room an assistant manager answered her phone. “I’m sending a lady to you.”

Tess hung up the phone. She pointed. “Mrs. Pierce will assist you.”

Mordia nodded and smiled modestly. “Thanks.”

Mrs. Pierce smiled. “This way.”

Mordia followed.

“What box number?” Mrs. Pierce asked.

“Thirteen seventy-four.”

Mrs. Pierce led Mordia into a room lined with several thousand secured boxes. She scanned a row of numbers until she stopped at 1374. After they inserted each key, Mordia placed the metal box on a table in the center of the room. She waited until Mrs. Pierce left her alone before she opened the box.

When she lifted the lid, she expected the box to be empty. Instead, several bound stacks of one hundred dollar bills filled three-fourths of the box. A tiny Styrofoam tray took the rest of the space. She popped off the Styrofoam lid. Eight syringes filled with yellow liquid were cushioned inside foam slots. For a moment, she wondered whether the fluid was toxic or actually rejuvenated tissue like Matthews had insisted.

After putting the lid over the vials, her attention turned to the stacks of one hundred dollar bills. Her heart raced. Her hands shook. She’d never seen so much cash. Matthews hadn’t lied. The money was there just like he had promised.

Mordia opened her purse and pulled out a small box. Carefully, she removed the vials, placed them into the cotton-lined box, and stuffed a thick layer of cotton atop them. She closed the box and put it inside her purse.

She stared at the money.

Mordia had never been a greedy person but seeing such an enormous stack of cash prompted her ambition to make even more money. A part of her feared taking the money Matthews had promised her. Doing so tied her to him, and there was the possibility she couldn’t back out should situations arise that further tarnished her morals and her soul.

The money baited a trap ever so seductive. Her sweaty hands trembled as she clutched the first stack of hundreds and tucked them into her purse. She took the other stacks, too, stashing them into her purse. She closed the box. Once she fastened the lid shut, she sighed and tried to stop her hands from trembling. Technically, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she felt guilty and a bit dirty inside.

Whether she liked it or not, Matthews owned her, at least for the time being. She almost felt ashamed that she had a price. She left the box on the table and left the bank. Matthews met her on the sidewalk.

“Satisfied?” he asked. “It’s all yours with much more to come.”

Mordia failed to hide her enthusiastic smile. Her nervous eyes investigated the streets around her. She half expected law enforcement officers to rush from the shadows and take them into custody. A couple of seconds later, her eyes met his dark gaze that peered through his bandages. Although disturbing at the coldness that swirled within his gaze, she smiled again.

“Let’s go,” Matthews said. “Now we need to find a pet shop and buy a rat.”

“A rat?”

“That’s the animal scientists use the most.”

“Perhaps, but why do we need one?”

“I need to show you what this rejuvenating agent does. This is something you must see to believe. The best-written scientific report would be scoffed at without real video footage to back up the claim.”

Mordia gazed at him questioningly.

Matthews smiled. “Trust me. You’re on the brink of a new era of science.”

He took her hand and tugged earnestly.

Frowning, she replied. “Okay.”

They walked several blocks until they found a small pet shop. People noticed his bandaged face but most simply sidestepped or pretended not to see him, which was fine by Matthews. These weren’t people he’d hold interest in anyway. They were subpar compared to him.

Matthews pushed the pet shop door partway open and faced her. “Spot me a hundred?”

Mordia smiled and nodded. “Get whatever you need. I’ll pay for it.”

“Of course you will,” he said with a condescending tone.

***

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Matthews held the rat in the small cage while Mordia drove the rental car. She seemed more relaxed and happier. Money did that for some people. Matthews never expected to be content during his lifetime. Increased wealth had never satisfied him, nor had his scientific achievements, but these were things he still coveted and would kill to possess.

He thought about Grayson Enterprises and how close he had been to killing Grayson and Dr. Helmsby. Every day since, he had struggled with that failure, constantly plotting ways to rectify his temporary defeat. Getting rid of two elite scientists would have placed Matthews farther up the ladder of recognition within the scientific world. Instead, his failure was headlines around the world and in Internet news articles, forever tarnishing his reputation. No matter what successes he could achieve as a free man, he would never redeem his name, which was why he chose plastic surgery to change his appearance.

“Do you have a preference where to stay while we’re in San Diego?” she asked.

“Actually, I have an apartment that I paid a full year’s rent before I was sent away.”

Mordia gave a side-glance. “A full year?”

“Yes.”

“So you had already planned to break out of prison before you were incarcerated?”

“Let’s just say that I had hopes to be released early.”

“You had help?” she asked.

“A big investor. My prison term hampered what he hopes to achieve.”

“So you don’t work alone?”

He gave a shrewd smile. “You work with me. So I have business partners.”

Mordia followed his directions to his studio apartment building, parked in the garage, and stared at him with curiosity when he stepped out of the rental car with the rat.

“Still don’t trust me?” Matthews asked.

“It will take some time. I trust few people.”

“But you’ll follow the money?”

Mordia chuckled and followed him to the elevator. “That part hasn’t let me down yet.”

“More to come, my good doctor.”

Inside his apartment, Matthews set the cage atop a round table in the dining room. An empty glass ashtray was beside the cage. The curious rat stood on its hind legs and sniffed the air.

“You do have the syringes?”

She nodded. “In my bag.”

Mordia reached into her purse and took out the Styrofoam box. She set the box on the table. Matthews took a syringe from the box and placed it on the table. He opened the rat cage and stepped closer.

“Watch closely,” he said.

The rat eased through the open cage lid and crawled cautiously across the lid. It looked back and forth between Matthews and Mordia. When its courage rose, it dropped off the cage and scurried to the center of the table.

Matthews grabbed the ashtray and slammed it down on the rat, crushing the rodent. The dead rat twisted.

“What the hell did you do that for?” she screamed. “You’re insane!”

Mordia bolted for the door.

“Patience, doctor, or you’ll miss the miracle.”

Confused and yet, curious, she stopped and turned.

Matthews took the syringe and injected the rejuvenation agent into the rat’s stomach. “You have a watch. Time this, starting . . . Now!”

With a look of disgust she took her watch and forced herself to walk back to the table. A small pool of blood spread from the rat’s mouth and nose. Its tail and hind legs twitched.

Matthews capped the syringe. “You’re about to witness a man-made miracle, nothing short of godly.”

The rat’s nose wrinkled. Its sides expanded as it took a gulp of air. A few seconds later, its breathing regulated. Its eyes opened. The rat got up on all fours and stood.

Mordia frowned and looked from the rat to Matthews. “How?”

“Time?”

She glanced down at her watch. “Three minutes.”

Matthews cocked a brow. “Not bad. Better than I had hoped.”

How did you do this? How does it work?”

“We’ll discuss the technology later. The benefits of immortality are how we’ll market this. Everyone seems to want to live forever. We have something to grant those dreams.”

The rat stood on its hind legs and peered at Mordia. Its red eyes were shadowed by an eerie shade of gray. Although alive, it didn’t look exactly the same.

“What effects occur with the living creatures?” she asked.

“I never had the chance to get the results.”

“So you don’t know?”

“I did test this on lab rats, but they escaped.”

Mordia leaned down to look at the rat. Its whiskers twitched as it attempted to get her scent.

“How did you test this before the rats?”

“I used human corpses.”

Her eyes widened. “You were able to bring them to life?”

“Yes.”

“Like zombies?”

Matthews chuckled. “Nothing like what you see in those silly movies. They were easily trained with subliminal programming. Quite useful in the field.”

“In the field? What did you use them for?”

“Assassins.”

“That’s morbid and creepy.”

“Most would agree with you. But there weren’t any true risks of causalities, at least not on my end, because they were already dead. Well, technically speaking, they were undead.”

Mordia shook her head. “Since you’ve never used this on living humans, what do you predict will occur when we do?”

“My hope is a much longer lifespan. The tissues of these undead creatures continue to decompose, but at a much slower rate. I believe this concoction, when used on healthy individuals, will extend longevity.”

“Possible side-effects?”

Matthews shrugged. “There’s always a chance for that. Even the drugs approved by the FDA tend to have far more side-effects than actual benefits.”

Mordia winced. “We need to know the risks before we use this on patients.”

“I know.”

“What do you propose we do?”

“We find volunteers.”

Mordia shook her head. “You’ll have a hard time getting volunteers for such an experiment.”

“Why? I’m not going to bash them over the head like I did the rat. They will be alive and have the opportunity to have a much longer life. Besides, we’re in San Diego, we won’t have any shortage of volunteers.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Lots of underground vagrants. They venture out after the sun sets.”

“That’s unethical.”

“Getting a conscious now?” he asked.

“I never lost mine.”

Matthews smiled. “It helps not to have one.”

“I’m sure it does with whatever you’re planning to do.”

“A hundred dollars per pop should get some quick volunteers,” Matthews said. “How many do you think would make a good drug trial? A couple of dozen?”

“At least. If we document everything properly, that would be a good basis to study, but there are other factors that must be considered.”

“Such as?”

She wrote on a notepad. “We need people who aren’t drug addicts or contaminated with diseases. Otherwise, we won’t have positive, conclusive data. Only clean subjects will validate your hypothesis.”

“Drug-free vagrants. Our new challenge.”

“I’m serious.”

Matthews nodded. “I know, but considering the odds, finding those will be difficult.”

“Plus, there’s something else.”

“What?”

“The test subjects will have to be people who don’t have family actively looking for them.”

“You’re right but our ability to search databases for such information will be extremely limited. Besides, most vagrants aren’t looking to be found. They’re too ashamed of their current living conditions and failures in life to want friends and family to know where they are.”

“Too bad I don’t know people in this country with computer tech abilities.”

Matthews frowned and suddenly smiled. “Now that you mention it, I do. And one or two owe me a great deal in favors.”

“And they’re not afraid that you’re wanted by police?”

“They’d be more afraid not to do what I request.”