Authors: Amy Taylor
Quarantine
The next evening, Sosa went to her office to give her daily report, but the tablet’s screen did not stop whirling. The call eventually failed. She tried again. It failed.
“Anders.”
The programmer’s voice blossomed in her ear. “Yes?”
“Are we having communication problems? I can’t connect to the director.”
She could almost imagine his puzzled face. “No, but let me check.” A few seconds later, he said, “You’re right. The satellites around the base are blocking all outgoing messages.”
“Thank you, Anders. Any progress on lifting Cyrano’s quarantine?”
“No, but I should have it soon.”
The communicator went silent. Sosa propped her elbows on the desk and made a pyramid with her fingers. Yes, it was as she thought.
“McKusick.”
“Yes?”
“I would like to talk to you for a moment.”
He grumbled. “Can it wait? I can’t keep working with all these interruptions.”
“I haven’t interrupted you since breakfast. Get in here.”
McKusick appeared half an hour later, sat down in a chair bolted to the floor, and frowned. “What is so critical I had to walk a mile to hear it? Couldn’t you have told me over the communicator?”
She shook her head and said, “We have been abandoned.”
Startled, he said, “Excuse me?”
“The CIA, I assume, has decided this facility is too dangerous to be allowed to exist, and if needed, they will take us with it if they feel they must. They can’t allow a pathogen like this one to get out into the general population.”
“So the satellites are not only there to protect us, but also to take us out.”
She nodded.
“This is why I generally don’t like the CIA.”
Sosa laughed. The sound echoed off the walls like the waves of the sea. “If we don’t get this base under control in three days, we’re dead whether the mutants get to us first or not.”
He smirked. “I might be dead before then anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come with me to the lab.”
She observed everything about him as they traveled. He walked a little slower than normal and his breathing was a little faster, but shallower, like he couldn’t get enough air. Little beads of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. McKusick was older than her, to be sure, but not by much. Deep wrinkles pinched his eyes and lips. He looked like he had aged ten years.
When they got to the lab, he gave her his tablet.
“What is it I’m looking at, McKusick?”
“This is a graph of my arterial oxygen levels compared to the average.”
She looked at the data, almost dropped the tablet, and stared at him. “You’re slowly suffocating.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m not suffocating...Yet. There is a chance of that. My blood is not carrying enough oxygen, so it’s as if I’m at a permanent high altitude. Look at my chest.” He opened his suit a few inches so she could make out his skin. It had a slight bluish tint.
“It’s called cyanosis.” McKusick started to rub and massage his hands. “I feel a little stiff. All this because of a small change in a line of DNA. Hopefully it will hit a point where symptoms do not get any worse and I’ll be able to manage with it until I can get back home and fix it. If it doesn’t... I will suffocate within the next thirty-two hours.”
“McKusick!” Sosa’s eyes smoldered with repressed fury. “Why did you not tell me? How long has this been going on?”
“I noticed two days ago.” He said.
She rubbed her temples. “McKusick, I’m not going to tell you to stop working because that would be a lesson in futility. But please don’t keep things from me. I’m going to find one of those mutants. I need to know you will be alive when I get back.”
“If you get back within thirty-two hours.”
“Sometimes I hate you.”
“92-F4 is in the second hall on the right, fifty yards.”
Sosa stalked toward her target through the unlit hall. Now she found the emptiness strangely comforting. Nothing to smash into or trip over. Nothing to impede her shots, and no distractions. Only smooth metal and the silence of a dead city. Her footsteps barely made a sound.
She stopped before she rounded the corner. “Has it moved?”
“No.”
Sosa crept into the corridor. She halted. There sat a man with his back to her, a regular looking man, with a bald head. He sat with his knees up towards his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. The creature rocked back and forth on his hipbones. His head snapped around to her direction. She froze in place, like a mouse in a corner, and almost shot him instinctively. Blood pounded in her ears.
“Who are you?” The creature’s voice sounded like bells, clear and bright. It scooted around to face her, still sitting. “You sound new, like that other one sounded new. But he didn’t want to talk to me.”
Sosa bit her lip. “My name is Sosa. What is your name?”
His face brightened like a small child. “Will you talk with me? I love to talk, but the others didn’t want to talk with me. There are so few left now.”
“What is your name?”
“I don’t remember my name. It was so long ago. So long. It has been quiet for so long.” His mouth parted into what he wished was a smile. His teeth were not teeth, but fangs like those of a fox, and brown with rot.
Something prickled the back of her neck. “Can you see me?”
The creature rocked. “Oh no. No, I haven’t been able to do that for a long time. A long long time.” His eyelids were glued shut and the skin grown over.
“How do you get around if you can’t see? I don’t understand.”
It smiled again. “Oh, I can hear. I can hear everything. But it has been so quiet for so long. So quiet for so long. I heard the other new one and wanted to talk, but he didn’t want to talk with me, so I ate him. Then it was quiet again.”
Sosa’s trigger finger itched. “How long have you been here?”
“Such a long time. A long time. There used to be so many, but there’s so few left now. I don’t know where they are anymore. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them.”
“Who is
them
?”
“The others. You don’t know the others?” It unfurled like a crab with long, emaciated limbs, and got to its feet. It stayed hunched over like an old man, though he looked young. His arms dangled from jagged shoulders. It wore no clothes. Any probably rotted away centuries ago. Even its man-parts were shriveled and barely discernible. “I’ve known the others for a long time. You must be really new. So new. So fun. Will you talk with me? The others don’t want to talk with me.”
Sosa saw dried blood on its hands and chest. “Did the other new man want to talk with you?”
“No.” It undulated its head from side to side. “No, no, the other new one didn’t want to talk. He was really loud, too loud, not like you. You’re soft. Easy on my ears.”
“Do you remember who the first men were? From long ago?”
“The first men?”
“Yes. The ones in the white coats.”
The creature stiffened. “White coats?
“Many others wore the white coats. Did you wear a white coat?”
“No, no.” It grabbed its head with its hands. “I didn’t wear a white coat.” Its head jerked up. “Do you wear a white coat?”
Sosa wanted to run, to move, but knew the creature would hear it. “No, I don’t.”
“What do you wear?”
“I wear a blue suit.”
The creature trembled. Its smiling face turned into a beastly snarl. Then Sosa remembered that the guards in the video wore blue suits.
“I’m not like those first ones. It’s not the same.” She lifted her beam rifle a little higher.
One moment it was fifty yards away, the next flying through the air with a hawk-like screech, claws reaching for her throat. She dodged back, unable to get off a single shot, and felt her helmet ripping. The night vision crackled on and off. It landed behind her. Her rifle flew out of her hands, and she reached down for her knife as she twisted her body like a corkscrew, all of her weight on the balls of her feet.
It slashed again, as quickly as a striking snake. She carried her momentum through her arms and let her knife glide through the air in a sinuous arc. She felt resistance to the blade. The creature howled. It pushed off with a spring-like leg. Sosa shouted and fought to dodge what she knew was coming.
A gnarled foot whirled for her chest. She considered it a splendid kick, and wondered if the man had been a warrior in his day. The air sang past her face. She drew her pistol with her open hand as she spun her knife out of the way, and took a shot as its leg met the top of the arc. The beam cut straight through the creature’s belly. All it did was roar. The whole hall shook when its foot met the ground. Sosa got off another shot. Blood splattered off its shoulder.
No sooner had both its feet kissed the floor when it bounded forward again in an explosive leap. Sosa shot it squarely in the chest, but that did not stop its charge. The creature struck her in the belly, claws sinking into her suit, and they went crashing to the floor. Anders voice screamed in her ears. The impact sent her pistol flying into the dark. She stabbed the monster in the side with her knife, and felt the blade scrape on ribs. It arched its back in pain, only to cut at her again with ten built-in daggers. Her suit flayed to ribbons. She cried out from the fire blooming in her body and grabbed at its neck. Spittle flew from its mouth. Acrid, foul breath assaulted her senses.
Sosa pulled the mutant’s head towards her and wrapped her legs around its left shoulder. It stiffened in surprise as she rotated and sent it flipping to the ground. Now on top, she stabbed the monster in the neck. It writhed underneath her, overcome with shock at being overwhelmed, and hacked at her with all of its speed and wrath. Sosa ignored the crimson spray, the searing agony in her breast, and stabbed it again. The beast shrieked. She stabbed it again. And again.
It convulsed and lay still. Sosa ripped off the remnants of her helmet and sheathed her knife, not caring about the blood. She allowed herself a moment to look at the creature, a fuzzy gray spot in the dark with a void for a mouth. With trembling legs and a body on fire, she straightened up and released a long breath.
“Anders.”
“Y-yes?”
“How can I get back without jumping over balconies?”
Escape
Both McKusick and Anders were there in the glass dome when she returned. Anders’ face erupted crimson when he saw the state of her suit, which left little covered and nothing to the imagination. She stripped off the top part of her suit, sat down on their blankets, and let her head hang. McKusick told Anders to bring over the water while he got the medical kit.
The geneticist sat down at her side. “Where is your rifle?”
“I couldn’t find it in the dark.” She smirked. “I need some serious antibiotics. I can almost feel my cells crying.”
“We have that.”
Anders tried to look away from her nakedness and dropped the water next to McKusick. “Sosa, you look terrible. Is there anything I can do? How could that thing damage your suit?”
Sosa sighed. Her eyelids fluttered. “A little quiet would be nice.”
McKusick poked one of her wounds. She gasped and her whole body stiffened. “You’re not allowed to sleep.” He gave her a series of injections. “You sleep when I tell you.” He continued to doctor her wounds for some time, carefully cleaning the deep gashes raked across her shoulders, torso, and parts of her face. She would have scars similar to Mader after they healed. McKusick applied a gel and then permanent bandages made out of sterile, lab-grown skin that her body would accept as part of her own flesh. When he finished, he allowed her to lie back on the blankets, drink some water, and sleep.
The two men watched over her peaceful form, as peaceful as she could be covered in strips of skin.
Anders glanced at McKusick. “I didn’t know you were so good at this.”
“I had to take classes recently.” The geneticist said. He washed his hands in the water, which had to be changed several times. “The CIA didn’t want to have to pay for a separate doctor, so they made me take classes. You should look into it once we get back.”
The computer programmer rubbed the back of his neck. “Will we? What did my blood sample say?”
He gazed at him. “Do want honesty?”
“No, but yes.”
McKusick glanced down at Sosa. “Don’t tell her when she wakes up. I don’t want her to lose hope if something happens. We’ve been through many hard missions, but nothing like this.”
Anders chuckled a chuckle of impending despair.
“Should you get a single scrape with virulent bacteria in it - even a minuscule cut from one of these things, you’re dead. Step on a rusty nail and you’re dead. Your body’s defenses are gone. The genes necessary to launch a defense and counterattack are completely deactivated.” McKusick said. “My best and strongest medicines would only delay the inevitable a few hours.”
The programmer clicked his tongue. “I guess I will have to be careful.”
“Don’t tell her.” McKusick clenched his hands together. “Don’t tell her I can hardly breathe either. I think she would have noticed if she wasn’t so wounded. I can walk, but running would probably kill me. If it comes down to that, I’ll probably die before we get out of the hangar.”
Anders leaned back on his arms and looked up at the clear evening sky of the glass dome. “I wanted to tell her that I finally lifted the quarantine, but I never had a chance to say it.”
McKusick perked up. “You lifted the quarantine? We can get to the plane?”
The programmer almost blushed with pride. “Yes, we can. All of the windows and doors are unlocked again.”
“All except the ones you locked?”
“What?”
“All except the doors that you locked?”
“Of course.”
“Anders, are the doors to this dome locked?”
The programmer gave no answer.
“Anders!”
The programmer got to his feet, but he stopped midway when he heard a particular whirring sound. The sound of disengaging hinges. He and McKusick lunged for the edges of Sosa’s blanket and pulled with all of their strength towards the control room.
A deep hissing sound glued their feet to the floor. The men turned to see a mutant walking through a door sixty feet away. It moved on all fours with its shoulders and pelvis alternating side to side like a lizard. It cooed and licked its lips. This one’s face hardly resembled a human, though they could tell it used to be a woman by its parched, dangling breasts. The monster advanced with a soft purr-like growl.
“McKusick.” Anders whispered. “What should we do?”
“I don’t know.”
The mutant suddenly whirled around, putting its back to them, and faced the door it entered from. It backed up towards the middle of the dome.
“Anders, pull. Be silent. There’s something even worse coming.” They started to gradually move towards safety. Only forty feet. Forty feet to go.
Another monster, bipedal instead of a quadruped, strode towards the lizard. Bony spikes, like antlers, sprouted from its shoulders, elbows, and the top of its skull. Muscles bulged with every vein in stark relief and its skin was a bright red from subcutaneous blood. The eyes looked like glazed porcelain. At the moment, the mutants focused only on each other.
Sweat streamed down McKusick’s face. He cursed his ill fortune that he couldn’t even properly move. His left ankle throbbed and sent pain coursing up his leg. Something wet dropped on him from above. He halted. Anders stared at him in puzzlement. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, McKusick reached down and grabbed his pistol, though he did not remove it. He looked up.
Clear, glass-like eyes studied him from between struts of the dome’s ceiling. This one looked surprisingly normal, except it was covered in pinkish scales. Extremely thick fingers and toes kept it latched to the ceiling. It moved its head back and forth like a chicken.
“McKusick.” Sosa’s eyes fluttered open.
He glanced down at her. “Shhh.”
“What is that?”
His eyes entreated her to shut up.
She took hold of her pistol, but like him, did not unsheathe it. “How far are we from the door?”
“Thirty feet.”
She frowned, still staring up at the pink mutant. It smiled at her. She smiled back and Sosa thought it would almost burst with happiness. It dropped down to land beside her. The mutant licked Sosa on the forehead.
“You’re a cute thing, aren’t you?” Sosa said to it. “A pretty girl.”
A beaming, wonderful smile spread over its entire face. It twirled around and jumped in circles to express its joy. Sosa wondered how long it had been since anyone kind had talked to it.
The creature’s head jerked up. A grumbling started deep in its throat, causing its scales to shake and grind together. McKusick turned around and saw the antler mutant walking towards them with long, heavy steps. The pink monster threw itself at the behemoth, tore at its face, and sent them both crashing to the ground.
Anders slapped McKusick on the shoulder. “Look.”
The lizard mutant had circled around to the left while the pink one occupied their attention, and was now less than fifteen feet away. Its eyes settled on Anders with a craving hunger.
Sosa lifted herself up to a sitting position, almost cried out from agony, and concentrated on one good shot. She knew they couldn’t make it while pulling her on a blanket. The thing saw the beam weapon and leapt through the air. Sosa fired, but missed. Anders bolted, but it took him down, grating its claws along his back. He screamed and thrashed underneath its weight. Then it stopped moving, shuddered, and collapsed. Sosa let her pistol drop. McKusick ran to him and pushed the creature off of him. The geneticist cursed underneath his breath.
Something crashed behind them. The bipedal mutant stood over the mutilated body of the pink creature. It turned to face them.
“Run.” Sosa said. “Run!”
McKusick and Anders hauled Sosa onto their shoulders, though Anders could barely move himself, and made a last attempt for the control room. The last mutant came for them. They heard its pounding feet grow closer and closer. McKusick smacked the console. The door opened. Sosa felt its fingers brush against her back. The door closed and they all collapsed onto the floor, safe and alive.
Anders fainted.