Read Dead Hunt for Free Online Page B

Lindsay Paulson,” she announced, “I
work with Patrick. He is a friend of mine. What happened? What did
you say to him?”
    Tears raced down her face as the sergeant
explained that a drunk driver slammed into Mrs. Heslin’s car,
killing her and sweet little Robin.
    “Oh my god,…. No!” she sobbed. Lindsay looked
at Heslin, “Patrick, I am so sorry.”
    Heslin did not answer. He just sat there,
staring ahead, a blank look on his face.
    As the news of the tragedy spread, Heslin’s
lab quickly filled with colleagues and lab assistants to help
comfort the grieving man. Eventually the lab cleared, leaving
Heslin alone with his sorrow. Lindsay stayed behind to further
comfort him and made the obligatory offer:
    “If there’s anything I can do, Patrick, you
just let me know.”
    Heslin lifted his eyes to Lindsay and uttered
two simple words.
    “There is.”
    He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed
it to Lindsay. Her eyes opened wide in disbelief.
    “No, Patrick, do not ask me to do such a
thing. You’re not thinking straight right now….”
    “Do it!” Heslin’s sharp words cut her off. “I
don’t care what it takes. I don’t care what it costs, just do
it.”
    This time it was Lindsay who stared blankly
ahead.
    Now, three years later, Heslin paced
impatiently in front of his microscope, deep in concentrated
thought. A thick, grey stubble on his face showed a tell-tale sign
that he hadn't shaved in days. His wild, Einstein-like hairdo meant
he hadn't showered either. Heslin often worked to the point of
exhaustion, slept for three or four hours, and then started another
marathon session that lasted for days at a time. Heslin glanced at
his stop watch as he hovered over his microscope. Impatiently, he
switched between staring into the eye piece and looking at the
watch. The seconds slowly ticked by.
    Heslin was an old-school scientist and
preferred microscopes and test tubes instead of a completely
computerized laboratory. Although everything under the microscope
was hooked into the Robin 1 mainframe, Heslin still preferred to
see it with his own eyes. Beneath the all-seeing eye of his
microscope, a culture dish held reddish-gray cells that moved in a
jerky motion when Heslin’s genetically modified, translucent green
liquid touched the cells. Not really a touch, more like a gentle
caress. The reddish-gray cells were human cells, long since dead,
but now sparked of new life when Heslin’s translucent green cells
caressed them. Life that never broke the two minute window. Heslin
dared another look at his watch as Robin’s voice broke the
deafening silence.
    “Formula 25-41 approaching the two minute
mark in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6 . . .”
    Robin stopped. Heslin’s heart sank as he
closed his eyes knowingly and exhaled deeply. He didn’t have to
look into the microscope to know the cells had stopped moving. He
knew exactly what failure looked like. He had seen it too many
times before, more times than he cared to count. He opened his
tired eyes as Robin started to announce the results.
    “Test complete. Sequence has failed. Formula
25-41 not capable of supporting. . .”
    “I know.” Heslin blurted angrily, cutting her
off. “I bloody well know. God dammit! Five more seconds! Is that
too much to ask?”
    Heslin's question echoed in the empty lab.
The last of Heslin’s assistants had quit weeks ago when Heslin
could no longer afford to pay them. Working Heslin’s marathon hours
was practically suicide, but without the lure of money, his
assistants quickly abandoned the maniacal professor.
    Living off cold coffee and a few bites of the
occasional sandwich, Heslin continued his research, oblivious to
the world around him and the hunger pains that often growled in his
empty belly. His appetite was for something bigger, something
monumental and more important than mere food. He was so close to
succeeding that he could practically smell victory. Despite his
countless defeats, he never flinched in his pursuit. He