Omega Virus (Book 2): Revisited

by Mendonca, D. Manuel

  The door creaks softly before sliding partway open. Brad grabs the door and opens it the rest of the way. Darkness comes from the inside, not even the flicker of a candle as they enter the gym one at a time.

  “Something doesn’t seem right,” Amanda says as a chill runs down her spine.

  “You’re right,” Brad says as he reaches down and grabs the wooden block barricading the door.

  “Then why are you locking us in?” Fanny asks.

  “I’m not,” Brad replies, “I’m keeping everything else out.”

  “And if something is already in here?” Hope asks.

  “Then it stays in here with us until we can dispose of it,” Brad laughs as he pulls his lighter out and lights the hallway with the dim glow of the flame. The flame flutters briefly before going out. Brad shakes his lighter rigorously. “Well, I’m out of fluid.”

  “And we have no flashlights, or light of any kind,” Hope says matter-of-factly.

  “There are emergency matches somewhere here,” Brad mutters feeling blindly.

  “They are in here Brad,” Cynthia’s voice calls from the main room.

  “Miss Cynthia?” Brad calls.

  “Yes Brad, it’s me,” Cynthia assures.

  “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” He asks, the girls linked behind him as they walk blindly into the next room.

  “Just enjoying the silence,” Cynthia replies, “there is something about the dark that has always excited me.”

  “Where are Mika and The Major?” Fanny asks.

  “They’re around, somewhere,” Cynthia says, the tone of her voice colder with each syllable.

  “If you did anything to them I swear to God!” Amanda growls

  “Relax, they’re fine,” Cynthia says, the sound of a match scratching the back of the box lighting up her evil face. She moves the match downward, the flame connecting with the wick of three white pillar candles. Their light almost brightens up the huge room including the two men lying unconscious against the back wall. “You can think of it as them sleeping. Which is more than I can say about my son.”

  “He deserved what happened to him,” Fanny barks.

  “He tried to take advantage of me,” Hope cries.

  “He tried to share his love with you,” Cynthia snipes back. “Don’t you realize that he had a lot of love to give? And how do you repay that? You cut off his manhood and let him bleed to death. I never even got to say goodbye to him.”

  “That was too good for him,” Fanny says.

  “You are the real monster, not my boy!” Cynthia roars as she steps forward and grabs Amanda by her hair. Her free hand pulls out a hunting knife and presses the blade up against her neck, “now drop all your weapons or I filet the skin off her body.”

  They look at each other for a quick moment; Fanny raises her hands showing she has nothing on her. Brad pulls out his two handguns and places them on the floor.

  “Good, now you,” Cynthia says pulling Amanda’s hair back and pointing the knife at Hope, “drop the sword and kick them all to the side.”

  Hope grits her teeth, her hands clenched tightly around the sheath and handle. Fanny puts her hand over Hope’s and shakes her head. Hope drops the sword on top of the guns and slides them off to the side with her foot.

  “Smart move,” Cynthia grins, “now this is what we are going to do,” Cynthia trails off, the razor sharp blade slicing across Amanda’s neck spilling blood all down her body, “you took my son, and I took your friend.”

  She releases Amanda’s body from her grip. Amanda drops to her knees, her hands wrapped around her neck covered in blood as she looks up at Brad before collapsing on the floor.

  “You’re insane,” Brad says dropping to his knees.

  “Oh I’m far from insane. I’m just trying to keep the balance,” Cynthia chuckles. Fanny rushes toward her in a fit of rage only stopping when Cynthia points the knife directly at her, shaking her head with the grin still on her face. “I wouldn’t be so rash if I were you. You see your friends over there are still alive, for now. You see I gave them each a slow acting poison. Right now they are merely sleeping as the poison continues to make its way through their veins. But within the hour if they aren’t giving the antidote then they will never wake up.”

  “What do you want from us?” Fanny asks backing away.

  “I want what any sane and rational mother would want, revenge against the cold hearted bitch who killed my son,” Cynthia says wiping Amanda’s blood off the knife before driving the tip into the seat of the plastic chair.

  “Then take it out on me,” Fanny says holding her hands up in the air, “you can do whatever you want to me, just give our friends the antidote.”

  “Fanny no,” Hope cries.

  “Its ok kiddo,” Fanny says, “I knew my actions would have consequences, now I have to face them.”

  “How noble,” Cynthia scoffs, “but there is nothing worse I can do to you then to let you watch your friends die a slow horrible death. The same as my son.”

  “That’s not a smart thing to do,” Fanny says upset.

  “You’re wrong. This is the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” Cynthia says walking back and forth behind the chair, her hand hovering over the knife with each step. “The stupidest thing I’ve ever done was to let you into my home, to take care of you and to save your life!”

  “Look, I get that you’re upset,” Fanny says trying to remain calm as she speaks, “but you don’t have to involve the others. This should be between you and me. I’m willing to overlook you killing Amanda if you give the others the antidote.”

  “The Hell we will overlook anything,” Brad growls.

  “No,” Fanny says, “we need her to help us save Mika and The Major.”

  “See her blood lust knows no bounds,” Cynthia says grabbing the knife out of the chair and taking a few steps toward Fanny. “She is willing to sacrifice others just to make herself happy.”

  “I wasn’t the one holding the knife to Amanda’s throat,” Fanny remarks.

  “YES YOU WERE!” Cynthia screams, “the second you killed my son you slit her throat. Maybe you didn’t know it then, but you are going to learn that now, one way or another.”

  “Look, you want me; you can have me, but first save my friends,” Fanny yet again.

  “You’re a brave little thing aren’t you,” Cynthia says pulling out two small syringes, each with a clear, light green liquid sitting inside. “This is the antidote, another of my own creations. And I’m so impressed by your courage that I’m willing to let you have it.” She puts one syringe on the table and backs away, her boney hand still clenching the second syringe. “But I want to know, which of your friends will you choose?”

  “You’re insane,” Fanny protests. “You can’t honestly expect me to choose between them.”

  “Well then lets up the odds,” Cynthia crushes the syringe in her hand, the green liquid running down her hand, “now you have to choose.”

  Fanny looks back at Hope, “what do I do?”

  “I have no idea,” Hope whispers back.

  “You’d better decide soon,” Cynthia chuckles, “who knows how much longer they have.”

  Fanny walks over to her friends, both breathing heavily as she crouches down beside them the syringe shaking visibly in her hand.

  “Pick one, pick one NOW,” Cynthia demands.

  Brad takes a step towards Cynthia but she bends over quickly, picking up one of his guns and pointing it in his direction.

  “Come on Cynthia, we both know you don’t know how to use that thing,” Brad says.

  “Maybe not, but I’m a fast learner,” She replies firing a shot into the roof. “What a rush. Now, pick someone, just drive the needle deep into one of them. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Just do it Fanny,” Hope says, “please.”

  Anxiety builds in Fanny’s chest, her heart feeling like it could pound out at any moment. Sweat builds up inside her palm as she holds the syrin
ge up above the pair. She grunts loudly as she drives the needle down into Mika’s gut. She pushes the plunger releasing the liquid into his body.

  “There,” Fanny says tossing the empty vial into the corner, “I played your silly game. Now what?”

  “Now I settle the score,” Cynthia says turning the gun towards her and firing off a shot.

  Fanny drops to her knees before taking one last breath and falling face first.

  “You are insane!” Hope cries.

  “Maybe so, but a debt is repaid. A life for a life, I have no quarrels with either of you anymore,” Cynthia says as she walks over to Fanny’s body. “Now get out of my house.”

  She stands smugly over Fanny’s body, her foot nudging her shoulder several times before Fanny reaches out her hands, grabbing Cynthia by the ankle and dropping her to the ground.

  “Missed me, bitch,” Fanny says dragging her backward.

  “Maybe so,” Cynthia remarks angrily, lifting up the gun and pointing it right in Fanny’s face. “But I won’t miss this time.”

  Fanny knocks her hand out of the way just before the gun goes off. Cynthia swings the knife at her, catching her shoulder, spilling blood onto Cynthia’s cheek. Fanny holds down both of her arms and squeezes her wrist holding her still the best she can. Cynthia wriggles, screaming before she drives her head against Fanny’s. Fanny pulls her arms off and Cynthia takes advantage knocking her onto the ground. She swings the knife again and just misses Fanny’s face. Fanny grabs her hand, covering the handle of the knife as she fights to free it of the old woman’s grasp.

  “You’re going to die for what you did to my son!” Cynthia says.

  “He deserved it,” Fanny shouts back, “he was a monster. Just like you!”

  She finishes by sinking her teeth into Cynthia’s arm, forcing her to drop the knife. Cynthia swings her other arm cold cocking the side of her face with the gun.

  “That’s fine, I have the knife,” Fanny says brandishing the weapon.

  “But I have the gun,” Cynthia reminds her.

  “Yeah because that’s worked out well for you so far,” Fanny taunts.

  “Yeah, but now things are different because I’m done playing around,” Cynthia throws up the gun and pulls the trigger back hoping to end her fight. The gun clicks, several times as she repeatedly tries the trigger. “Oh fuck.”

  Fanny wastes no time rushing over with the knife driving it deep into her throat. Murder and rage fill Fanny’s eyes as she glares unforgivingly into Cynthia’s eyes, watching them fade away slowly, as Cynthia falls to the ground. She tosses the knife off to the side before she turns back to the others. The stress and rage slowly starts to dissipate from her body as she walks away.

  “She left me no choice,” Fanny says inhaling deeply and letting out a deep, cleansing breath.

  “We know,” Brad says as the pair walk over to her, “no one would blame you for what you did. You had to kill her.”

  “No, not that,” Fanny pants, “The Major, he didn’t deserve this. I couldn’t save him… she left me no choice.”

  “Could there be more of that antidote somewhere?” Hope asks tugging at Brad’s sleeve.

  “It’s possible,” Brad nods giving both the girls a glimmer of optimism, “but I don’t know where she’d have kept it.”

  “What about the medicine cabinet? You know, the one she grabbed that smelly ointment from,” Hope suggests.

  “I guess it’s worth checking,” Brad says picking up on of the candles from the table and walking over to the cabinet.

  Hope stands close to her friend, her hand on her shoulder as Fanny rests on her knees. She holds on to the Major’s hand, her head hung low as she fights back the tears.

  “Are you going to be Ok?” Hope asks.

  “Yeah,” Fanny replies, “but I’d feel a lot less guilty if I could have prevented this.”

  “You can’t protect everything,” Hope says, “it’s like I was saying yesterday, sometimes you have to let things happen. Good or bad, they will find a way to work themselves out.”

  “I guess,” Fanny shrugs before turning her head, glancing at her young friend over her shoulder, “do you think I could have a moment alone? You know so I can gather my thoughts.”

  “Of course,” Hope says backing away, “I’ll just go and help Brad search the cabinets.”

  “Thanks,” Fanny says as she watches Hope make her way over to Brad.

  She turns her attention back to The Major, her hands wrapped tightly around his. His limp hand drags inside her, his body warmth starting to fade. She opens her mouth several times trying to speak only to find herself fighting back tears each time. She sniffles several times before a lone tear makes its way down her cheek and onto their hands.

  “I’m sorry,” she says as she starts to choke up. She clears her throat before she laughs nervously, “I’m sorry I didn’t save you… I couldn’t save you. I guess this all just became too much for me. I thought if I could put myself into those life-threatening situations, that I wouldn’t have to feel this kind of pain, this kind of loss. I guess we never stop running from the things that scare us, and I guess for me I’ve always been afraid of loss.”

  The Major gasps for a breath as his eyes flicker open. He gives Fanny a half smile before gasping for air again. Fanny sits him up, his head nuzzled between her chest and her arms.

  “Don’t…don’t give up,” The Major says with a struggle, “and don’t waste your life hiding like I did for so long. Stay strong and continue to fight…” The Major says before taking several short breaths, his eyes closing as his body goes limp.

  Fanny lays his body down and gets to her feet, walking towards the closest wall, and pressing her head against the cold brick wall as she starts to sob uncontrollably. Hope and Brad keep their distance as they walk over to The Major’s body. Hope kneels beside him and presses her middle and index fingers against his throat searching frantically for a pulse. She looks up at Brad and shakes her head.

  “What about Mika?” Brad asks, “Is the antidote even helping?”

  “That’s if it even was what she claimed it was,” Hope says inching her way over to Mika’s body.

  Again she places her fingers on his throat and searches back and forth for any sign of life.

  “Well?” Brad asks impatiently.

  “He’s alive,” Hope says getting back to her feet, “but he’s also burning up.”

  “Side effect to the poison?” Brad wonders out loud.

  “With any luck,” Hope says taking off her windbreaker and balling it up before sticking it under Mika’s head.

  “Need me to do anything?” Brad asks.

  “I need some water and a cloth,” Hope replies.

  “Right,” Brad says as he scampers off into the darkness.

  “Lots of water!” Hope cries out trusting he heard her.

  “What’s going on?” Fanny asks coming back over.

  “We’re not sure yet.” Hope replies, “He has a pulse, but also a fever.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Fanny asks.

  Hope sighs unwilling looking up at her friend as Mika shudders and groans as he tries to take a breath, “I don’t even know how we can help him make it through the night.”

  Chapter 17

  The night seems to drag on, each of the remaining trio feeling the effects of fatigue as they continue to watch over Mika. Brad rests with his back and head against the wall, his eyelids drooping, his hand losing its grip on his water bottle as he slowly drifts off to sleep. Fanny is sitting in the chair, her legs slumping outward either which way, her arms hanging down at her sides with her head hung back the soft sounds of snoring escaping sporadically. Hope is right beside her, her back resting on the side of the chair Fanny’s hand draped beside her. Mika continues to rest in her lap with beads of sweat forming across his forehead. He struggles to breath as he twists and turns.

  “Shh, Shh, Shh,” Hope coaxes as she fights to keep him still.

 
; She wipes his forehead dry and pours a little bit of water into his mouth. After he swallows the small amount of liquid, Hope presses the backside of her hand against the side of his face and feels the warmth radiating hotter than before. She strokes the side of his face trying to send as much positive energy as she can into his body.

  “Come on Mika.” Hope urges, “We need you. You have to get better. Please don’t leave me.”

  “Don’t leave us,” Fanny says sitting up in the chair.

  “I’m sorry,” Hope says startled, “I didn’t think you were up.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Fanny says rubbing Hope’s shoulder. “How’s he doing?”

  “Not good,” Hope admits, “his fever seems to be getting worse; he’s struggling to breathe and drink. If he doesn’t show some kind of improvement soon I don’t know what to think.”

  “He will get better,” Fanny says trying to comfort her.

  “Can I ask you a question while we have some time alone?” Hope asks turning her head as far back as she can.

  “You know you can ask me anything,” Fanny says trying to force a smile.

  “Why did you save Mika? Well I mean, why did you give him the antidote instead of The Major?”

  Fanny sits back in the chair, her hand brushing through her dirty hair as she lets out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. So many things rushed through my mind when I had that needle in my hand. Then everything went blank and I thought about Mika doing everything he could to help us. He tried his hardest to make sure we survived back at the church. Then in the bunker he stood up for us when I wanted to use the radio. I knew it had to be him.”

  Mika groans before tossing and turning again. He shoots up, his eyes bursting open as he rolls onto his hands and knees and begins to dry heave.

  “MIKA!” Hope cries out happily.

  He pushes himself up, resting on his knees panting as Hope wraps her arms around his neck almost knocking him down.

  “There’s more to saving him then what you said isn’t there?” Brad asks sneaking up on Fanny.

  “BRAD!” Fanny shrieks, “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was for a while. I woke up and heard you two talking and I didn’t want to interrupt,” He admits.