by Max Lockwood
“No one is special!” she screeched in Elaina’s face.
“Please,” Elaina begged. “Go get help. He’s going to die if we don’t get him some help.”
“Are you special?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elaina cried.
The woman pointed to Elaina’s hand, directly at the small, crescent-shaped scar from the bite she received at the hospital. “You’re not infected, are you?”
“No, I’m not infected.”
“But you were contaminated?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The girl smiled and pulled down the neck of her sweater. Pink marks covered her neck and chest, marring her porcelain skin. “Same here. You and I are the same. We’re special. He’s not,” she said, pointing at Steve. “Now, he’s never going to be special, either.”
The girl smiled and started skipping around in a circle. Elaina felt sick. She had met a lot of bad people, but nothing like this. She seemed to have no concept of right and wrong.
People like Dr. Vincent were scary because they were too ignorant and incompetent to understand that what they were doing was wrong. Even Elaina could admit that when he stole her prototype for the Morgan Strain, he was doing it to become a hero. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the knowledge or ability to complete the task correctly. Then, when faced with the choice to fail at doing well or succeed at doing bad, he created multiple, wildly unpredictable viruses and injected them into perfectly healthy people.
Others were like Mayor Callum, who was handed the keys to the castle and wanted to keep up the façade that he was creating a utopia in a barren wasteland. He gave food and shelter to refugees who were forgotten by the government. He welcomed everyone, even the Infected, and promised a cure for the sick so they wouldn’t be separated from their family and friends. To keep up the illusion, he lied to desperate people and they believed him. He had a very clear vision of how he was going to keep his prestige, and once he realized that a safe cure was not possible, he bent the rules of what was ethical and right. His power allowed him to become a tyrant, to the point where his own citizens couldn’t fight back without risking their humanity.
This young woman was a completely different story. There was no rational motive to what she was doing. She’d mortally wounded a shining light in the hope for a cure, just because she thought it would make her less special. Elaina couldn’t reason with her—no one could. This deranged woman seemed to be under the impression that whatever genetic abnormality she possessed made her life worth more than the lives of those who didn’t have it.
Elaina couldn’t even begin to understand that mindset. It was a complete fluke that the Vincent Strain didn’t seem to attack their bodies like it did the greater part of the population. Oftentimes, a genetic mutation meant a propensity to succumb to disease later in life. It just so happened that this mutation prevented a disease that never should have existed in the first place.
As Elaina understood it, genes were like little bits of computer code in the human body. When a zygote was created, the computer copied and pasted code from one parent or the other into the offspring. Mutations were only little errors along the way. Perhaps one simple keystroke was added or omitted, causing a slight change that may or may not change the way the new computer operated. To assign meaning to what came down to a bit of genetic code was nonsensical at best and horribly dangerous at worst.
Steve began to seize as his organs failed. He had lost too much blood and wasn’t getting the oxygen needed to fuel his brain. Elaina held him steady as blood continued to spurt onto her clothes. She didn’t know if he could hear her or even feel her presence, but she muttered comforting, albeit empty, words to him.
It was too late for him. No amount of surgical skill could piece him back together and repair his damaged body. His brain, filled with the exact knowledge Elaina needed, was dead. Elaina couldn’t breathe. She wheezed, overcome with the implications of this man’s death. She had only known him for minutes, but he’d made her feel like there was still hope for a cure. He was a rare good leader, trying to partner with the people he needed to conduct the research that would save lives.
The woman hovered over Elaina as Dr. Martinez stopped moving. She looked like a child, seeing something exciting happening as a smile spread over her face.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Elaina replied softly, not wanting to upset the unstable woman. Elaina was terrified that something would set her off, causing her to swing the machete at her neck.
Her hands began to tremor as she finally let go of the geneticist’s neck. She let his head rest on the carpeted floor, stained with his blood.
“You’re shaking,” the woman noted.
“I guess,” Elaina answered nervously.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I would never spill the blood of our people. We survive these attacks for a reason. We’re meant to live. Other people are weak. It’s nature’s way of telling us who deserves to live and who deserves to die.”
Elaina clenched her fists. There was nothing natural about the virus. It was fabricated in a laboratory and released upon with world with reckless abandon. It was all caused by human error.
“How many have you killed?” Elaina asked, feeling braver now that she knew she was exempt.
“Lots.” She giggled. “A lady never tells her number, though. I’m cleansing the filth from the world. It would be easier if I had help from my sisters in blood, but I have accepted my role as the savior of the population. It’s a new revolution, and you’re part of it, whether you like it or not!”
Elaina stared at her blood-covered hands. Her skin felt stiff as it dried.
“Who have you killed in this building?” she asked, refining her query.
“The one who was trying to take our powers away from us,” she said. “Him, and a few who tried to stop me.”
Elaina’s heart stopped. If this woman knew the same things about the immunity gene as she did, then it meant she would kill any men she could get her hands on. Elaina needed to get to Alec as quickly as she could, but she couldn’t let the girl follow her.
“We’re not invincible, you know,” Elaina said cautiously. “We might survive a little bite, but the Infected are capable of much more damage. No immunity can protect you from being ripped to shreds.”
“Obviously. But that doesn’t mean that we aren’t meant to rule the world. We were given a divine opportunity. I’m certainly going to use it.”
Elaina could hear more footsteps down the hall. She listened, hoping they would find her and save her from the psychotic woman.
“I think it’s time for me to go,” the woman said, standing up straight, her bright green eyes staring into Elaina’s soul. “It’s been so lovely to chat. I’m glad I met another special one. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”
“Wait,” Elaina called. “Where are you going?”
The woman didn’t answer but ran down the hall, light on her feet. She opened another door and disappeared.
Elaina ran back to the nurse’s office, fearing she was about to be sick. She turned on the small sink and allowed the water to run, dissipating her nausea as she focused on the calming sound of the stream. She stuck her hands under the water until it ran clear again. Then, she scrubbed at her face, removing all traces of the scientist’s blood from her skin. Finally, she rinsed out her mouth, still tasting the metallic tang of the droplets that had sprayed onto her lips.
She needed to find Alec before it was too late. She was unarmed and completely unprepared, but she raced down the hall, ready to search for the man she loved.
Chapter Fifteen
Bobby Dean gripped the cold metal of the wire cage as he waited for whatever was coming next. He didn’t understand why Elaina was cooperating with the guards. He expected to hear her screaming as she was escorted away, but he heard nothing but silence from next door.
Bethany sat b
ack down on the hard cement floor, tucking her knees into her chest. Bobby Dean smirked, sitting back down next to her.
“You’ve really messed up this time,” he said. “I get the feeling that trouble tends to find you.”
“I’m not asking for this, if that’s what you’re saying.”
Bobby Dean pointed toward the door. “If something happens to Elaina, that’s the end of the world. I’ve gotten to know her, and I’m pretty sure that she’s the only one who can sort this mess out. I’ve heard of other people who have supposedly created cures, but they really haven’t. There’s this guy who’s been luring people to his town, promising them that his doctors can cure their infected family and friends. Let me tell you, it’s no cure.”
“What is it?” she asked, grimacing.
“Imagine having a melon baller scooping out a good chunk of your brain. That’s what they’re doing. The whole town is filled with those creeps. They just walk around without any idea of what’s going on. It’s pretty disgusting. If something happens to Elaina, that’s going to be our best-case scenario. Do you think you can live with that guilt?”
Bethany covered her ears with her hands. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to keep her cool. She couldn’t handle the constant ragging for what ultimately wasn’t her fault. She had brought a lot of baggage to the group, and the guilt was starting to weigh on her conscience.
“That’s funny,” Bobby Dean said, spoken loud enough for Bethany to hear through muffled ears. “You are guilty. Whatever you’re hiding is going to eat you alive. Good. We’re probably going to die, but at least I can watch you squirm until they come to take us away.”
“Stop it,” she hissed.
“You’re going to die with so much weight on your soul. I’m guessing you’re not religious, though. Still, it can’t feel good.”
“Fine,” she snapped, dropping her hands to her lap. “You’re right. I’ve made a few redactions to my story.”
“Lies,” Bobby Dean corrected.
“No, not lies. I just gave a broad overview of my story. I may have omitted a few unflattering parts along the way.”
“Well?” Bobby Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Well, what?”
“Get to it,” he replied, looking at the locked gate. “I don’t know how much time we’re going to have. Why don’t you start by telling me who the hell Samantha is? I know you know.”
Bethany winced.
“Oh, my God,” he drawled. “You’re Samantha, aren’t you?”
“No,” she hissed. “I’ll tell you. Just shut up and listen, okay?”
Bobby Dean quietly chuckled to himself as he rubbed his palms together. He was enjoying Bethany’s discomfort.
“Remember when I told you about being picked up by some military group after splitting from Will?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I didn’t get away as quickly as I let on. In fact, I was taken to someone’s compound. It took me a while until I was in a position where I could escape.”
“Eh, we’ve all been there,” Bobby Dean groaned. “Who was it? Bretton Vincent?”
Bethany bit her lip. “No, this was someone else. At first, I was afraid I was going back to his compound. Then, I quickly realized that where I was headed was much weirder. From my experience, all of these different militias just take over infrastructure that already exists. When the truck stopped, we were led outside into the dark. There wasn’t a damn building in sight. I thought they were going to line us up and shoot us. But then, they opened a hatch in the ground and shoved us down the ladder.”
“Like a doomsday bunker?”
“Not like one I’ve ever seen. This looked like a high-tech day spa. I mean, someone had been building this place long before the virus was even created. This place had everything—you wouldn’t think an underground bunker would have plumbing and electricity. It was immaculate and certainly not a hole in the ground like I thought we were being pushed into.”
“So, what was their deal? Were they doing medical experiments? A crazy doctor trying to find a cure?”
She shook her head. “They took me to the woman who owned the bunker. She introduced herself as Dr. Joanna Adler. She was probably in her forties, but it was hard to tell. She was beautiful, but she caked on so much makeup, it was hard to tell what she really looked like. She had definitely had some work done too. don’t know if she had muscle paralyzing injections or fillers shot into her face, but it didn’t look natural. She was clearly trying too hard.”
Bobby Dean sighed. “What does this have to do with anything? Girls always have to point out the most unnecessary details.”
“Dr. Adler was very kind to me, but she didn’t seem to like the men working for her,” Bethany said, ignoring his interruption. “She immediately asked them if they had managed to find Samantha, and when they admitted they hadn’t, she went berserk. She screamed and berated them over what seemed so unimportant. So, no, I am not Samantha. I’ve never been untruthful about my identity.”
Talking about Dr. Adler’s bunker made her skin crawl. It was one of the reasons she didn’t like talking about it. She was such a strange woman. Immediately, when Bethany first saw the beautiful woman with bleach-blonde hair, she thought she might be able to trust her. There was something about a well put-together person that was immediately more credible than creepy. But appearances could be deceiving.
“The second she remembered I was standing in front of her, listening to her scream at her staff, it was like she flipped a switch. She was totally cool and collected. I told her that I wanted to leave, but she quickly informed me that she needed girls like me to stick around. She said she had an important job for me. Immediately, I asked her if she was going to use me as a guinea pig. She just laughed and told me I was ‘too adorable’. She said that we were going to become very close.”
“I bet you loved that.” Bobby Dean smirked.
“You’re not completely wrong.” She sighed. “I knew that I wasn’t in a good place, but I didn’t think it could be as bad as Bretton Vincent’s lair. She showed me around some of the facilities. There was an exercise room, a sauna, a massage room, and giant baths for different kinds of mineral soaks. There was even a room where guests could have different hair and skin treatments done. I figured it was all for her and her friends, but she said that any of her girls could use it. That’s when I realized that there were only women in the bunker.”
“That seems kind of creepy,” Bobby Dean said. “But damn, I wish I could have gotten a peek of that place.”
Bethany scrunched up her nose in disgust but carried on with her story, trying not to titillate Bobby Dean in any way.
“I was brought to my ‘room’, which was more like a cell. It was about the size of this cage, with a small cot in it. I don’t consider living spaces to be bedrooms if I’m locked in one periodically, especially without much explanation as to why I was brought there in the first place. Dr. Adler insisted that I change out of my clothes and put on this pink dress that they had waiting for me in the room. It was girlish and frilly—definitely not my style. I put it on, only because my clothes were dirty from living in the woods and I didn’t want to set the doctor off.”
“Were you locked in the room the whole time?” Bobby Dean asked.
“Basically. A few times, I was allowed out to use the spa facilities. I felt uncomfortable wandering around on my own, especially with male guards around, but my muscles were so sore from fighting. A hot soak in the salt bath made me feel a lot better.”
A small smile appeared on Bobby Dean’s face, a dreamy look that Bethany didn’t like. She moved on.
“One day, I was sitting in my room, minding my own business when Dr. Adler came to see me. She was accompanied by a guard. She told me that she needed a small blood sample. She just told me like it was such a normal request. I kind of freaked out on her. I told her that she was holding me against my will and that I didn’t want her to have my blood
. She insisted that she was only testing me to make sure I wasn’t infected. After all, she said, she only needed a drop. Against better judgment, I gave it to her. I was sure she was going to come back that day and run more tests on me, but I didn’t hear anything more about it. I stayed in the bunker for weeks, eating three healthy meals a day and lounging around the spa. We were underground, so I felt safe. I mean, how would an Infected figure out how to use the intricate trap door in the middle of nowhere?”
When she closed her eyes, Bethany could see the confused expressions on the other girls’ faces as they were brought in and instructed to wear the frilly pastel pink dresses. She wanted to help them, to warn them of what was to come, but she had no idea herself.
“One day, I was sitting in the sauna when two guards pulled me out and took me to a part of the bunker that I didn’t even know existed. Somehow, it was even further down in the ground. They took me to a stylish office with modern furniture. No one would tell me why I was there. After an assistant brought me a cold glass of cucumber water, I was alone. Then, Dr. Adler came in like she was so happy to see me. I didn’t get why she thought I was something special. I mean, I hadn’t hardly spoken to her since she took my blood sample weeks ago.”
“Was it about the virus?” Bobby Dean asked.
“In a way. She said that she wasn’t after a cure for the masses. She was mostly after eternal beauty.”
Bobby Dean scoffed. “It sounds like her priorities were all screwed up.”
“She said that one could not have eternal life without eternal beauty, and vice versa. She had it in her mind that she could live a long and prosperous life in the bunker by using young girls as cosmetics.”
Bobby Dean frowned. “What does that mean?”
Bethany absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair. “She had this theory that if she gathered all of the beautiful young women she could find, she could bleed them and bathe in the blood. Over time, it would make her stronger and more youthful. Of course, being in the middle of an epidemic, she reasoned that she could survive by bleeding innocent girls into a tub and taking a little soak in it.”