Free Guinea Pig by Greg Curtis

wasn't. I know. I did the paperwork for them. Each dose cost us fifty thousand dollars, and then had to be transported across state lines. There were endless forms about bio-security, dangerous goods and maintaining the cold chain to fill out even after the bills were paid. I didn't fill out a seventh set of forms. And anyway the entire drug budget was used up on those six doses. Three hundred thousand dollars. That's it.”
     
    No seventh dose and yet he was the seventh patient? That didn't sound good. And when he put it together with the fact that his body hair had fallen out, that he was having side effects where none of the others had, that could mean only one thing. He'd been given something else. Something not so safe. Will suddenly felt weak at the knees. But somehow he kept from falling down.
     
    “So what did he give me?”
     
    Will was amazed at how calmly the words seemed to slip off his tongue. As if it was nothing. But in the end he needed to be calm. He needed to ask the question. It was the only question that mattered.
     
    Brad stared helplessly at him, and Will knew what he was going to say even before the words left his mouth. He didn't know. He'd assumed that everything was as it had been before. And in truth how was he to know? He just monitored the computers and set up the clinic. And one syringe full of clear coloured liquid looked much the same as another. His wife couldn't tell him either. She hadn't been there. And with the nurse still unaccounted for that left him back at the beginning with only one person who could tell him anything. Doctor Millen.
     
    “Any idea where I can find Doctor Millen?”
     
    Of course they didn't know that either. He saw the look of helplessness in their faces even before they started giving him the sorry details. They hadn't seen him since the clinic had collapsed into the sink hole. And since he had apparently been living in an apartment at the back of the clinic they didn't know where he was staying any more. They didn't even know if he was alive. If he was dead Will knew, he would never get his answers. But he might not get them anyway. Not if he couldn't find him.
     
    “You could try his church.” Lisa spoke up unexpectedly and suddenly Will had hope again. Not much, but a little.
     
    “Church?” He hadn't considered that the doctor was a religious sort – though it did perhaps explain some of the moral type questions he'd been asked. Maybe the doctor was religious enough that he had gone to pray. And maybe while there he'd spoken to some of the others. The priest perhaps. Maybe he'd even left an address where he could be found. It was something to hope for.
     
    “The Church of The Ascendance over on Sunset. He's very devout.”
     
    Devout? There was something about that word that struck a worrying chord in Will. Maybe it was just that he remembered all those strange questions the doctor had asked him about his faith. At the time it had seemed as though he was just checking on what sort of priest should come and visit him in the hospital if he needed a visit. Or if he had any religious objections to particular medical procedures. But when Lisa said the word something in the back of his mind clicked. He didn't know what. But he knew it was important. And he feared it. Occasionally people did terrible things in the name of religion.
     
    “Thank you.”
     
    Will knew he had to go. That he couldn't waste any time. He had to find the doctor urgently. He had to find out what had been done to him and these two could tell him nothing more. But as he hurried back to his bike he couldn't help but think he was wasting his time. That it was already far too late.
     
    Over and over again Doctor Millen had asked him if he was certain he wanted to go through with the trial. He had repeatedly explained that he could back out. And now he knew why. The man had been feeling guilty for what he was about to do. He'd been wanting reassurance that what he was doing was