It was 1:17 a.m.
A black sedan pulled up behind the St. Joseph Veterans Welfare Institution in Queens.
Erskine got out carrying a silver insulated case. His shoe had barely splashed through a puddle when the iron door beside him opened a crack from within.
"Where is it?"
The person behind the door showed only half his face.
Erskine hastily raised the insulated case.
"Mr. Osborn sent three doses of the new serum. They've been kept refrigerated throughout transport. The temperature never exceeded-"
"Come in."
The man cut him off.
Erskine swallowed and followed him through the back door.
A few harsh white lights still burned on the institution's first floor. Group photographs of veterans hung on the walls. The men wore immaculate uniforms, their chests covered in medals, smiling as though they had just stepped out of a billboard.
A line of text appeared beneath the photographs.
-They gave everything for their country.
Erskine walked beneath those words, catching the faint smell of disinfectant in the air.
Farther inside, the smell changed.
Rust. Sweat. And the stench of urine that would never wash out.
His guide stopped at the end of an underground passage and pushed open a heavy iron door.
A man in a white coat stood behind it.
He was around fifty, with thinning hair and round glasses perched on his nose. He held a medical chart in his left hand, but wore a black rubber glove on his right. Traces of red liquid still stained the glove.
"Dr. Sean." Erskine forced a smile. "Three doses of serum, delivered as Mr. Norman requested."
Sean took the insulated case and lifted its lid.
An eerie green liquid swayed gently inside the syringes.
He stared for several seconds, the corners of his mouth slowly rising.
"Don't worry."
Sean took