Scrunched down in a wheelchair, Sarah pulled the blanket up close to her face as the man pushed her past the nurse’s station and into a waiting elevator. Once on the ground floor, they followed a long hallway until they came to a service door that opened onto a back alley behind the hospital. Fortunately for them, the crowds seemed focused on the main entrance to the building. Looking up and down the alley, the man extended a hand and guided her from the wheelchair into the back of a black Lincoln Town Car that sat idling by the door.
After sliding in beside her, he motioned to the driver and the car sped away through the maze of traffic that had already returned to the streets of Manhattan in the wake of the epidemic. Sarah blinked in the sunlight as they passed a street filled with news crews huddled in front of their satellite vans waiting for something to happen. “Is all of this because of me?”
“Yes, my dear, I’m afraid it is.” The man removed his white coat and shoved it under the seat in front of him.
Sarah felt slightly disoriented. She had been growing stronger every day, but the virus had taken a toll on her body. With the sudden exposure to bright sunlight, combined with the motion of the vehicle, her head began to spin. A wave of nausea brought beads of sweat to her forehead, forcing her to grab the armrest and brace her head against the back seat of the car.
As if in a dream, she looked over at the man with heavy black eyebrows sitting beside her. He was talking quietly on his cell phone. Did he say he was from the Vatican? Sarah tried to shake off the nausea by focusing her attention outside. She watched as they sped up a freeway ramp and joined the flow of traffic on an expressway that led away from the island of Manhattan.
She lowered her window and felt the cool morning air against her face as her nausea began to subside. Feeling a slight chill, she took in another deep breath before raising the window and glancing back over at the man seated beside her. Slowly, as if awakening from a long night’s sleep, it began to dawn on her that she had allowed herself to be whisked away from the safety of the hospital and the people who had saved her life by a complete stranger.
Then again, those same people had kept her confined in a tiny hospital room against her will. At least now she was free from the threat of becoming a living specimen for the doctors at the CDC or whoever else they decided to let prod and probe her without her consent-like those guys at some army bio-warfare institute. She had been a virtual prisoner of the government while civilian and military doctors from all over the country lined up outside her room just to peek at her. Yes, at least now she was free from all of that, and it felt good to be outside.
With her head now beginning to throb, the mere act of thinking was difficult as the car turned off the Van Wyck expressway and drove through a gate onto a wide expanse of concrete surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. The car continued on past an enormous metal building, and in the distance, Sarah could hear the unmistakable whine of jet engines.
“Where are we?” she asked, massaging her temples.
The man snapped his cell phone shut. “JFK Airport.”
Glancing outside, Sarah saw a small, baby-blue executive jet parked in front of the gigantic doors of the tall metal building. The door to the aircraft was open and the stairs were extended. A young man with short blond hair and wearing the uniform of a pilot could be seen walking around the jet, peering into the engines and checking the tires.
Sarah tried to stifle a yawn. “Are you planning on taking me somewhere in that?”
“Yes … we’re flying to Rome.”
“Rome? Why Rome?”
The man smiled but his eyes narrowed. “Like I said before, Miss Adams, I’m from the Vatican. I believe you have a friend there … Cardinal Leo Amodeo.”
“Oh … Cardinal Leo … yes, but I’d rather go to Israel.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, my dear. All commercial flights are grounded, and I don’t have permission to take this aircraft to Israel. Don’t worry … you’ll be safe in Rome. After your friend the Cardinal heard that the CDC was planning on transporting you to a military base, he decided you would be safer at the Vatican away from all the attention.”
“Actually, I was already making plans to escape from that hospital when you showed up. This is quite a coincidence.”
The man adjusted the lapel on his jacket and ran a stubby hand through his thinning hair before peering over at Sarah. “Yes … quite a coincidence. I just happened to be in New York on business when Cardinal Amodeo called. We’re all just happy that you survived an illness that took so many lives.”
As soon as the car rolled to a stop, a man in a dark suit rushed forward to open Sarah’s door. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she stepped out onto the concrete, but her head began to spin once again and she swayed back and forth. Fearing that she was about to fall, the man with the heavy dark eyebrows took her by the arm and carefully guided her toward the stairs of the jet.
“Sorry … I’m still a little dizzy.”
“That’s quite alright, Miss,” the man said. “Please … we must hurry.”
They were halfway up the stairs when Sarah suddenly stopped. Her vision blurred as she clutched the railing.
“I don’t know … you’ve been so nice … maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
The man’s eyes began to dart about as he tightened his grip on her arm. “I understand your fear, my dear. You need to rest so that you can regain your strength. Once we’re onboard you can sleep. Our doctors will look after you when we arrive.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said with half closed eyes as they entered the cabin. “Did you tell me your name?”
“My apologies, Miss. My name is Emilio. Now come, you must sit.”
Seconds later, she felt a blanket being draped over her body, and the last thing Sarah Adams heard before she drifted off to sleep was the roar of the jet’s engines as the baby-blue jet streaked down the runway and disappeared into the clouds.