Authors: J M Leitch
The Zul Enigma (73 page)
And how he’d jeered, in
that harsh, cruel way he had. First at her father for falling for the Zul story
and then at her mother for thinking she could expose him. As if he was
deliberately goading her to retaliate. That’s what had pushed her over the
edge.
Even though he was still
a big man he was old and suffering with a severe fever, as well as from his leg
injury. Besides, the anger charged her with a strength she didn’t know she had.
How easy it had been to drag the pillow from under his head. How easy to squash
it over his face… to tell the nurse he’d peacefully passed away.
Once again she felt the
fury seething inside her.
But when she’d stared
down into his soulless eyes as she gripped the pillow with both hands, his
endless taunts assaulting her ears… that she was as pathetic as her parents…
that she didn’t have the guts to kill him… she caught herself. He was trying to
screw with her mind.
So she’d dropped her
arms and let the pillow fall to the floor. Because Rachael believed human life
was sacrosanct – yes, even his – and that no single individual had
the right to snuff out another’s existence, regardless whether it was six
billion or just one.
Had she murdered him she
would end up being the same as him. And she was nothing like him. Not one bit.
After she’d left his room the nurse told her Joseph’s doctor wanted to speak to
her, and she’d sat in his office, still trembling, while he asked if Joseph had
told her what was wrong with his leg. After she shook her head, he explained
that a few days after knocking it, Joseph had complained of severe pains in his
shin. They checked but couldn’t find the cause… there wasn’t even a bruise.
Later, however, when his leg grew hot and red they’d run tests and found he’d
developed necrotising fasciitis, an intensely painful infection occurring in
the deepest layers of skin, otherwise known as the flesh-eating disease.
A new, more prevalent
strain had developed since the holocaust, the doctor explained, which was
immune to antibiotics. This is what Joseph had. It was an agonising, hideous
illness and the only treatment was to remove infected tissue, resulting in
large expanses of open wounds covering the body, amputations and eventually
death.
The doctor said he could
understand why, although Joseph had insisted he wanted to tell Rachael himself,
he hadn’t found the courage.
She wrapped her scarf around her freezing face, leaving a narrow slit for her
eyes.
Always the tough guy,
she had no doubt Joseph would master the pain. But to lie, helpless in bed,
watching as doctors hacked away his body piece by piece? For such an arrogant,
egotistical man, that would be unbearable.
Of course he hadn’t told
her… but it wasn’t because he couldn’t find the courage. Still playing the
great manipulator, he’d wanted to provoke her into putting him out of his
misery.
So when the doctor asked if Rachael could stay on in Miami and keep visiting
Joseph to give him the moral support he’d need as the infection spread, she’d
thought about it.
It would be his
retribution. To have her with him, day after day, as they both witnessed the
result of his infected flesh being sliced away, leaving his body nothing but a
suppurating, oozing sore... the perfect visual metaphor to illustrate his
purulent, disgusting mind... and although his suffering would never equate to
the suffering he’d caused, it would be better than nothing.
And, she remembered,
Joseph liked irony. So every day she visited she could remind him how ironic it
was that he’d contracted this fatal disease in an institution specifically
designed to cure people. And how it was doubly ironic because the doctors,
whose job it was to fix people’s bodies, would be the ones responsible for
mutilating his, as they carved off one section of his flesh after another.
She’d sworn to Scott she’d do something about all those deaths… and the death
of her parents. But now she had the chance, she had no stomach for it.
Rachael knew she could
no more watch Joseph suffer the grisly death that faced him, than kill six
billion people. And so she walked away.
J M Leitch
The Zul Enigma is my first novel. It took me 7 1/2 years
to write. I am British and was born and grew up near London but headed out to
Asia many years ago. I now spend my time between Assam in Northeast India, Bali
in Indonesia, Singapore and the UK.
In addition to writing and reading, I enjoy hanging out with my family and
friends. I love laughing, and I try to spend as much time doing that as I can
because I believe it keeps me healthy.
My hobbies are reading, tennis and travelling. I also enjoy eating tasty food
and drinking good wine.
Connect with Me Online
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many individuals have contributed towards this book to a
greater or smaller degree – some have done so without even realising
– and I’d like to take this opportunity of thanking them all.
However, I want to say a special and sincere “thank you” to the following
people:
Maggie Webley for her motivation and feedback in the early, early days;
Alan Hancock for his communications expertise and creative
assistance with all technical aspects;
Corrinne Jurenka for her first-hand knowledge of the UN and
her first name;
Gus for putting me right regarding American diplomatic
channels;
Andrea Schmitt, Lula Maiz and Carlos Casado for their help
relating to all things Spanish and Carolina Rollier for correcting my Italian;
Michael Nicklin, Richard Birchfield, Claire and Charlie
Johnston, Kent Smith, Jonathan Tilney, Jim and Margaret Forbes, Philip
Jolowicz, Joel Puzey, Glenn Harry, Victor Mason, Cheryl Roudnew, Janet Boileau,
Judy Fallin, David Hemsley and Diana Bracewell for their honest, intuitive and
sometimes painful critiques of parts of, and in some cases the whole
manuscript, during its various stages;
David Wilcock for his permission to base Zul’s message on
“evolution through densities” as described in an early edition of his book
The
Shift of Ages
;
Michael J Laine and Brian Dunbar for an exchange of e-mails
about the Space Elevator;
Jeremy Allan for his advice on getting published;
Judy Goldie for her constant encouragement every step of the
way and her daughter Philippa and Steven Castley for sharing publishing
experiences;
Bruce Marshall for feedback on the physics;
Bayu for a first-class interior and cover layout;
Jim Davis for a magnificent website;
Jo Egré for her editing expertise;
Jane Walters for saving the day;
Wolfgang Widmoser for his brilliant cover artwork;
and last, but of course by no means least, my family for their
patience and encouragement.