The Red Cough

by E. J. Loveson

  “Was the specimen infected with the same strain?”

  Y-yes sir. On a massive level! But I think I may have encountered an...Issue.”

  “And that is?”

  “I...I may have been exposed…” There was a long pause before the deep voice spoke again. “Turn in your data and report for decontamination. Your work is valued.” The call was ended. The coroner did as he was told and e-mailed all his data to the “Headquarters” and walked into the decontamination room. A bio-lab suited person was in the room. The door closed behind him, sealing them in.

  “Turn for inspection. Hands up.” The suited person said. The coroner nodded his head and turned. The person's voice unsettled him. It sounded devoid of care, interest, compassion. But still, he turned - and was clubbed in the back of the head, knocking him out cold. “Live specimen acquired.” The suited man said into a microphone in his suit.

  ****

  Sylvia and Olyvia sat in the Armory of the Seattle Center. It was more empty now than normal. The homeless that would usually sit sit in the Armory for shelter thinned out and only a few show up now. The businesses decided to stay open despite the slow business. Those who were out wore plastic gloves and face masks to protect themselves. Many of the students that attended the school in the Armory are being kept home by their parents out of fear for their safety. “The city is quiet today.” Sylvia sat quietly as her mother tried to make conversation, “Hurry up and eat your lunch.” Sylvia groaned as she scarfs down her 18” submarine sandwich. “You weren’t lying, you were hungry.”

  “I was and still am.”

  “We’ll stop again after your appointment.”

  “No, I need to eat more now!” Like a ravenous animal she runs to through the food court eating whatever she could get her hands on, scooping food off of people's plates and scarfing it down then running to the trash cans and eating anything she found edible. She was crazed, deranged even. It seemed as if she inhaled the food, when she was done with one area she moved to the next, devouring people's food while they ate.

  “Ma’am, please? Can you control your child?” One man sad as Olyvia watched Sylvia inhale his lunch. She was in shock; she didn’t move speak or blink. Olyvia became horrified as she watched her daughter, her baby, her only child act like a rabid wild animal.She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, fixed her lips to say something, but nothing escaped her lips. Even if it did she wouldn’t have had the time to say anything A security guard poorly dressed to protect himself against biohazards showed up.

  “Hey!” He yelled. As if it happened in slow motion, the guard pulled out his taser gun and fired it at Sylvia, hitting her. She stopped in her tracks and fell to the floor.

  “My daughter!” Olyvia screamed. “What have you done?!” Unfazed, Sylvia jumped up, shook herself off and ran towards the security guard, jumping on him and knocking him to the ground. She opened her mouth and bit the man, biting off his lips. Olyvia screamed again. The people screamed as the young girl with a ballooned belly chewed the man's lips with blood running down her face. The guard threw Sylvia off him, blood gushing from his face and yelling hysterically.

  Sylvia quickly dashed out of the door, her mother ran quickly after her as Sylvia made her way towards the Space Needle, pushing people out of the way. Olyvia lost sight of her but followed by the sounds of people reacting to being pushed out of the way by her. When Olyvia reached her, she could see that Olyvia had gotten on the elevator to the observation deck. White vans pulled up, men in hazmat suits jumped out with assault rifles and ran towards the lobby. Olyvia followed.

  “Ma’am, please stop.” One of the men tried to stop her.

  “That’s my daughter.”

  “Not anymore, ma’am.” Olyvia couldn’t understand what man was saying. Before the man could even reach Sylvia, a primitive howl bellowed from the small girl who made her way over the observation deck safety fence. Olyvia watched on in horror as her only child, her baby, dangled hundreds of feet in the air, Again, Sylvia let out a primitive howl before she let go. Olyvia watched as Sylvia flapped like a bird on her way to the ground , making a loud thud on impact. As bystanders watched her kill herself, her body exploded, releasing a large cloud of blood and red dust, infecting anyone nearby who breathed it in.

  The hazmat suited men readied their assault rifles and rushed to what had remained of Sylvia. Olivia backed away covering her mouth in shock and confusion. “What could have caused my Sylvia to do such a terrible thing?!” she demanded but no one had an answer for her. A loud siren blared and people were running about stricken with panic and confusion but for Olyvia, everything was moving in slow motion. Her daughter is dead, and whatever remains of her is being scooped up off of the pavement and taken by the hazmat suited men. She can’t even give her a proper burial. Olyvia continued backing away, her hand still covering her mouth.

  “Miss? Miss?” A police officer approached her from behind. She shrieked and spun around. The officer raised his hands and spoke; “I need you to come here ma’am. That red dust doesn’t look healthy.” Olyvia gingerly moved to the officer. “Ma’am, I need you to move.” His voice sounded far away even though they were merely feet apart. “Okay ma’am, If you don’t want to risk breathing that red dust in, you need to come here faster.” Olyvia was still in her daze, like a flash-bang grenade blew up right in her face. The red dust billowed and crept along the winds towards them. The officer moved faster, grabbing her hand and lead her to his police cruiser. He made sure she was in first before hopping in and speeding off.

  5

  “A string of mass suicides plagues the west coast. Witnesses report seeing a red mist following these suicides. We’ll have more at 8. IN other news, the elections are approaching America, what’s it gonna be? Clinton or Trump? We’ll talk about the candidates…” The sounds of the news on tv droned in Louie’s temporary room as he jacked his thick dick to the thoughts of sucking Marc’s dick. He grunted and coughed as thick ropes of nutt shot from his dick and landed on his chest, face, and mouth. He cleaned up, put some underwear on and left his room for the kitchen, particularly the refrigerator.

  “Get out of the fridge.” Marc said from the hallway. “And put some clothes on, witcho’ thot ass.

  “I ain’t no thot.”

  “You look like one.”

  “Shaddup!”

  “Whateva’, you seen the news yo? Shit gettin’ real on the west coast. Niggas killin themselves.”

  “Huh?” Louie closed the fridge. “You don’t have any fish?”

  “Some shit goin’ around called the red cough, makes you kill yaself or you explode or some shit. And I haven’t had any fish since they stopped sellin’ it at the market.”

  “That’s strange.” Louie thought about the man at Shenanigans who had died in front of him and the red dust that came out of him when he died. “Wait, you mean like that dude at work? He didn’t explode though.”

  “You know what? Come to think of it, Yea! You think he infected us!?” Marc jumped in fear.

  “Nah, none of us breathed dat’ shit in or let touch us so we should be good. I mean, I don’t feel any different. You?”

  Nothin’ different about me. The news said to wear face a face mask if you plan to go out.” Marc put a pair of underwear over his face, mimicking a mask. “Think this would work?” Louie frowned and turned his attention to the pantry. HIs stomach growled.

  “Somebody's hungry. There’s a plate of eggs n’ bacon in the microwave if you want it. You jus’ gotta’ heat it up.”

  “Thanks bruh, ‘preciate’ it.” Louie started the microwave and sat at the breakfast bar. Warren, his boss, crossed his mind, “You think Warren aight?”

  “Man I completely forgot about em’. I hope he is. I bet he waited for the cops to show up. He shoulda left wit us!” Marc laughed.

  “Nah, he did what he thought was right. Just like we thought leaving before the cops came was right.” Louie laughed. The microwave beeped, Louie's eggs and bacon fini
shed. He hopped up, got his food and sat on the breakfast bar to eat his food. “Tell me how it’s a Friday and there's no parties, clubs, or bars open cause a dis’ red cough shit? It must be serious if they ain’t open.”

  “Must be. Guess I ain’t doin’ shit tonight. Thought about callin’ a nigga over to smash but with that shit runnin’ around i’ll jus’ play with my dick an ass an smoke.” Louie said, randomly shaking his ass.

  “Nigga, keep dat’ shit to yaself. I don’t need to know ya sex habits, nasty!” Marc laughed as he walked into the living room and returned with a blunt. “Hurry up and eat so we can smoke.” Louie scarfed the few bites down and nodded to Marc to light the blunt. Ribbons of smoke floated in the air while Marc took a puff and passed it to Louie.

  ****

  “My child…” Olyvia sat crying softly in disbelief. “My baby.” She hadn’t even looked at the officer.

  “Ma’am, I understand that you’re going through a lot, It’s not safe for you to go home - no time soon. But we can go to your place to pick up a few things if you’d like to do that. It’s not safe for you to go home.”

  “Not safe?” Olyvia asked “What the fuck is going on!? My daughter...My only child is...dead. She flew to her death, I watched her. Now I’m not safe? You tell me what the fuck is going on, now.”

  “Ma’am…”

  “Olyvia.”

  “Ms. Olyvia…”

  “Just Olyvia.”

  “Olyvia, I wish I could tell you, I know about as much as you’d probably know. Your daughter was infected with this...disease that’s going around.”

  “My daughter wasn’t a dirty bum. We live clean.”

  “Anyone can get it, not just the homeless. You might or might not be infected but you have a better chance of surviving with me if you don’t have it. Those men in hazmat suits would have ran experiments on you, they’d kill you all in the name of research.”

  “I’d probably be better off.” Olyvia begins to cry hysterically. “I have nothing left. I might as well die.”

  “Well, I can drop you off at your home, I’m sure those men will be there to pick you up. Or you can stay with me and try to figure out what the fuck is going on. And maybe, just maybe your child’s death isn’t in vain.”

  “What can I do?”

  I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

  “Who are you anyway? I mean, I know you’re an officer, but what is your name?”

  “Arthur, Arthur Rick.”

  “It’s an unfortunate pleasure.” Olyvia tried to crack a smile. “How did you find me? Like, how did you know to find me?”

  “Well... I heard what happened on my radio. It’s my job to be there whenever there’s trouble.” Arthur explained. “I saw you trying to get to your daughter and... that’s when things went south.” Olyvia starts to cry again. “I’m sorry, poor choice of words.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I saw the men in the suits talking about you, well, a mother. I knew I had to get you out of there as soon as possible before things got worse. You think the homeless are dying, that isn’t the case. These men that stopped you from getting to your child have been rounding up every single homeless person in the city. All of the shelters, soup kitchens, and urban rest stops are empty. Wherever they are taking them, I have a feeling that’s where you were going to go. I couldn’t let you or anyone that I can help go through that.

  “Thank you, my home is on Queen Anne hill.”

  “No problem. We’ll stop by there, you get anything important and you can stay at my house.”

  “No, a hotel is fine.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to be alone.”

  “I’m sure.” Olyvia wiped tears from her face.

  Olyvia paced her home, picking up important items, she cried as she looked at photos of Sylvia. It was just this morning that I was sitting with her. She thought. How could this happen? She sniffled, wiped her face and continued packing. “Are you sure this is necessary?”

  “Yes Olyvia, this is very necessary.” Arthur replied. “Take what's important. If need be, I’ll bring you back when it’s safe to get more things.”

  “Thank you, Arthur.” She began to cry again. “I’d be so lost if you hadn’t showed up, or dead”

  “You don’t have to thank me, but we do have to go.” Arthur said looking out of the window. “We have company.”

  “I have everything I need; we can go out the back through the garage.” As soon as Olyvia and Arthur got in the patrol car the front door was kicked in, men in hazmat suits rushed into her house, guns drawn. They searched the home while Arthur and Olyvia sat in the garage quietly hoping the men would leave.

  “What are we going to do?” Olyvia asked.

  “Don’t worry, we’re getting the fuck outta here. We’ve lost enough lives. Open the door” Olyvia pushed the garage door button and hopped back in the car. “Buckle up.” The garage door opened, Arthur started the car, revved the engine and sped off, sirens wailing as they bypassed the suited men. He sped away as fast as he could get them. The suited men didn’t seem fazed by their getaway at all, they didn’t even bother to chase them. In fact, they began to set up a lab in her house.

  “This is serious.” Olyvia said.

  “Very…” This was the first time he was actually afraid. “But we will be okay.” He wasn’t too sure if that was true or not anymore. He didn’t know if he was trying to convince Olyvia or himself. “We’ll be ok, everything will be alright.” He grabbed Olyvia’s hand. She looked at him briefly then out of the window, seeing a couple leap to their death from the balcony of a high rise building. She watched the them plummet, they were eating each other’s faces as they fell. She turned away and screamed, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t! Don’t look out the windows, should’ve told you that.”

  “Why are people doing that? I’ve been seeing stories about it on the news. Why are people killing themselves?!”

  “It must be the disease doing that. Their bodies explode whenever they die and that red dust spreads through the air.”

  “That must be how people catch it! Oh my GOD I must have been exposed! My daughter died right in front of me!”

  “Now we don’t know that for sure Olyvia. You could or could not have it. You may also be immune. At any rate, you would have shown signs of infection by now since you’ve been around your daughter.”

  “You’re right...Where do you live, Arthur?”

  “Central District.” Arthur replied.

  “Oh…” Olyvia said nervously.

  “What?”

  “Isn’t that the ‘bad area’?” She asked.

  “People say that, but I don’t think so. My neighborhood is pretty old. My house is pretty old; it was my father's. It was passed down to me after he passed and I’ve been maintaining it for a while now.” They sat in silence. “What’s on your mind?” Arthur broke the silence. “Do you think things will get worse? Be honest with me.” She demanded.

  Arthur took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t know to be honest with you. The other officers don’t really know what’s going on. The men in the hazmat suits are from the government, or CDC, hell I don’t know. When people started killing themselves we were the first on the scene. That changed when they’d show up and kill any cops who were there before them and they’d lock down the scene. When we sought legal action, we were blocked and the fallen officers were labeled as ‘casualties’. Now, we don’t show up. So unfortunately, I can’t give you a better answer. Arthur pushed a button on the visor and a garage door opened as they approached his house. They pulled into the garage and got out of the car as the garage door closed. Arthur unlocked the door and opened it, letting Olyvia in before following after her.

  “Mike! Mikey! You home?” Arthur called out.

  “Ayo!” A voice called back.

  “Where you at?”

  “Upstairs! I’ll be down in a sec man.”

  “Okay, I have a guest, she’ll be s
taying here for a bit.”

  “Aight.”