Acidalia part IX
by Amanda D

Sunday July,23 2:45pm PDT Reynolds quarantine facility Dr. Stanley’s office:

Paul Stanley looked in disbelief at the raven haired young woman that had once been Major Brady, grimacing as she strained to control her anger and outrage at the new woman. This was the second time in a week that she had to deal with the major’s killing someone while interrogating them. It had been Dr. Stanley’s hope that after Brady recovered from the initial shock of the transformation that she would be able to take over her new duties as the chief enforcer at Reynolds. However, in the two weeks since awakening from the virus induced coma, the major had been completely out of control.

Brady’s obvious rage at what had happened was seriously clouding her judgment when it came to what was considered reasonable force. It almost seemed that she no longer possessed the mental governor that allowed her stop before she killed, and it was starting to become a real problem. Extracting information from an uncooperative person was something of an art, and it appeared the major, who as a man, had been the equivalent of Picasso, was now more along the lines of a preschooler drawing stick figures.

“Are you going to explain yourself, or are we just going to sit here staring at each other?” Paula asked impatiently, finally breaking the long silence that had fallen between them. She hadn’t want to be the first to speak, but there was too much that needed to be dealt with to sit and stare at the Major all day.

She was absolutely furious at Brady over this situation. Not only had the Major gone too far again, this time she had killed one of the military personnel assigned to guard the quarantine. This wasn’t some unknown virus victim, easily disposed of and forgotten, this was someone who would be missed, and missed soon. Paula was clueless as to how she was going to explain the solders absence when Colonel Jordon’s people came asking about her.

The worst part of it all, to her mind anyhow, was she had no one but herself to blame for what had happened. The doctor had needed answers fast. It had been her decision to assign Brady to the interrogation. She had tried to tell herself that it was the pressure that Colonel Jordon had placed on her that was truly to blame, but that rang hollow no matter how she tried to twist it.

The President was demanding answers before he made a statement on the situation, which was scheduled for 4pm. This morning on the CBC network national news a tape had been shown. Though there had been less than a minutes worth of viewable footage, most of it having been left on the cutting room floor because of the quality being too poor, it had been nothing short of damning.

Someone somehow, had filmed the inside of the Reynolds facility and taken the tape to a local affiliate of the network. There were scenes of everything from the living conditions to the hospital ward, full of specials recovering from their latest battery of tests, to the shower stalls, stained brown from the dried blood on the floor. It was a disaster of unimaginable proportions.

“What is there to explain? I did as you asked, but she wasn’t as resilient as we first thought. What’s the big deal? Jordon would have had her killed anyhow. I just saved him the time.” Brady told her ambivalently.

“The big deal is, we needed information, not another corpse! Your job was to get it out of her and let the Colonel deal with the rest. Now I have a dead soldier and no way to prove that it was Branagan that released the tape, other than your word, and since you’re dead, I can’t exactly tell Jordon how I got the information. Do you understand now why I’m so upset?”

“Now do you see why I’m so upset?” Brady mocked. “I don’t give a shit if you’re upset! I got you your precious information, just like you asked. Don’t give me grief cause you don’t like the way I went about doing it. And it isn’t my fault that you lied to him about me being dead so don’t come down on me for that. Sergeant Fuller told me it was Sergeant Major Branagan’s idea to make the tape, and she was the one that delivered it to the news station. Just tell him that, he’ll believe you and get a confession out of Branagan himself. Case closed I’d say. If I still had a say in what goes on around here, that is.”

“Which you don’t.” she said a little too quickly, adding, “Remember who is in charge around here now.” which only brought a rolling of the Major’s ice blue eyes. Paula silently cursed herself for taking Brady’s bait again. Their little power struggle was starting to wear on her patience, especially since it seemed as if the Major won every confrontation between them.

“Oh believe me, we’re all well aware. It’s not like you would ever allow anyone to forget, anyhow.” Brady said with tremendous distain. “So don’t get them king sized panties of yours in a bunch.”

“My panties are far from being bunched.” she retorted, then mentally chastised herself for even bothering to respond. She knew she was starting to lose control of the conversation and needed to Brady out of there as quickly as possible. With a dismissive air Paula continued “In any case Major, you may return to your quarters until I have need of your services again.”

“In any case Major you can return to your quarters.” Brady repeated mocking her again. “Why don’t you report to your room and go fuck yourself! I did what you asked. Now I want something in return.”

“What would that be?” Dr. Stanley asked even though she was reasonably sure she knew what the answer was going to be.

“You know what I want.”

Paula rolled her eyes. “Not this again. I’ve told you before; Thomas would kill you in a heart beat. You were no match for her when you were a man, and you’ll certainly fare no better in your current condition.”

“I was no match …? She attacked me without warning! I never had the chance to put her in her place. No match, my ass. Put me in a room with her for five minutes, and I’ll show you who’s no match for who. Besides, what do you care? If I can’t handle her, at least one of your problems will be solved.”

“I am not going to let either of you get killed. I have sacrificed way too much to keep both of you here and alive, to let you tear each other throats out. I need the two of you. You need to just let it go for now. Once I am through with her, if you’re still dying for a rematch then you can have her.”

Brady hopped to her feet and lunged over the desk, tackling Paula and upending her chair. Paula’s head banged off the floor hard enough to make her see stars. “I could kill you right now, you bloated bitch. Do you understand that? I don’t give a shit what you need. Give her to me!”

Dr. Stanley, still dazed, looked at the 5’7” woman with skin so fine it was almost like china, uncomprehendingly. Her head buzzed from the impact with the floor. Paula shook her head slightly trying to clear the cobwebs. The motion made the room spin uncontrollably and she felt as if she were about to pass out.

“Uh uh. No fading out on me. We’re not done talking yet.” Brady said as she gave Paula a hard slap across the cheek. Seeing focus return to the doctor’s eyes as her cheek reddened, Brady taunted “I see that got your attention. Now give Logan to me, or perhaps I’ll kill you instead!”

Summoning all the courage she could muster, she replied “Kill me then, if that’s what you need to do. Kill me, because I’m not giving her to you no matter how much you bitch, complain and threaten. She’s too important to my research. However, I might be willing to give you something else that may help to placate you, since you did get me what I needed.”

“And what would that be?”

“Logan’s two cohorts, Mona and Paka I believe are their names, are still in here and neither is of any real use to me. If you get off of me right this second, I’ll give you one of them to do with as you please.”

Brady looked suspicious, but intrigued. She wouldn’t mind taking some frustration out on one of Logan’s cellmates, but she just didn’t quite trust Stanley to really give one of them to her. The thought of the grief and sorrow one of their deaths would cause Logan, made Brady feel an almost sexual kind of excitement. After another moment’s consideration of the offer, she cautiously asked “Which one?”

“Which ever one you prefer. I don’t really care one way or the other. They both can be held responsible for the two murders down there last month.” Paula replied, hoping to buy time enough to get security in to help her.

Brady just sat there, stuck in a long moment of indecision, her every instinct telling her that Paula was lying. Her need for satisfaction, for blood, for anything that would make Logan suffer, was all consuming though, so with great reluctance she ignored her inner warnings and hopped off of the director, offering her a hand in getting up.

Paula looked at the hand untrustingly for several seconds before extending her own. With an exaggerated grunt, Brady pulled the doctor to her feet. “Thank you, Major.” Paula said.

“I want Logan to be able to see me tear her friend apart. I want her to watch them die slowly at my hand. I want her to feel their pain, and watch them bleed.”

“I’m not sure that can be done. She has been under heavy sedation since the day she attacked you. I think bringing her back to consciousness is too risky right now.” Stanley said, trying to take charge of the situation.

“She watches, that’s my only demand. I need her to see what’s in store for her when the time comes. I need to see the pain in her eyes and to know that she knows I’m the cause of it. She watches, or you’ll be watching your back every second from now on.” Brady told her menacingly.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me just fine. She watches, or you’ll find yourself looking over your shoulder every moment of every day, for as long as I let you live.”

“I … I see,” Dr. Stanley stuttered. “Let me get it arranged for tomorrow afternoon. It will take some time to flush the drugs out of her system.” Paula picked up the phone on her desk. After a few seconds she said “Can you come in here please?” not forgetting to keep a constant wary eye on Brady.

The Major’s beautiful blue eyes returned her stare until the office door opened. She finally looked away as Lieutenant Hutchinson entered with three members of her security force. Hutchinson saluted the Major and then to Dr. Stanley said “You wanted me ma’am?”

“Yes I need to you to take the Major down to isolation …”

“You what?” Brady shouted as she turned and moved towards the doctor, the anger of betrayal evident in her piercing eyes.

“Sergeant Ma …” Paula sad nervously as the Major continued to advance on her.

“Major, that’s far enough. You heard what the director said. Please come with us now peacefully, or we will be forced to make you.”

Brady stopped where she stood and looked back at Hutchinson. “Why don’t you leave, and let me and the Doc here deal with our issues, and I’ll promise not to hurt any of you after I’m done with her.”

“Sorry sir, I can’t do that. Now please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” she warned as she pulled her sidearm tranquilizer gun out of its hip holster and pointed it at Brady.

Brady looked at the gun for less than a second. Under her breath she said “Fuck it!” and lunged at Dr. Stanley. The doctor let out a surprised yelp as Hutchinson opened fire on the Major. The dark skinned security head’s aim was true and a tranquilizer dart caught Brady just above the collar bone, another hitting her in the upper shoulder.

Brady grunted from the pain of the needles, as well as the impact of landing on Stanley’s bloated from. She tried to will her self to wrap her hands around the fat doctor’s throat, but the drug inside the needle was too fast acting for her to do more than flop onto her side.

The security team rushed over to where the two women lay. The other three pulled Brady’s unconscious form off the director as Hutchinson asked, “Are you alright Ma’am? Do you need me to call the infirmary for you?”

“I’m fine!” Dr. Stanley said with great indignation as she accepted the Sergeant Major’s offered hand in getting up. “Get her out of here and take her down to isolation, now!”

“Yes Ma’am. How long will she be kept down there?”

“You keep her on ice until I tell you to remove her. She’s too dangerous to be roaming the halls around here. She needs time to adjust to her new condition, and to realize who’s in charge here now.” Paula tried to sound confident and in control, but knew she was coming off as scared to death instead.

Hutchinson thought to herself ‘I think she already knows that answer, but I doubt you do.’ but said nothing. She simply nodded at the doctor, saying “Ma’am.”Turning, she said, “OK, you heard what the lady said. Let’s get the Major down to the isolation area before she comes to, or we’ll have a real fight on our hands.”

After the security team dragged Brady’s unconscious form out of the office, Paula slumped back into her chair and shook with fear. She kept repeating to herself “I’m the one charge here. I’m in charge, not her.” Stanley kept repeating it over and over again until she almost had herself convinced it was the truth.

***************

New York City Battery park 8:30 pm EDT:

Rebecca McTavish, as she was now calling herself since the name Ronald no longer really fit, sat huddled in her latest dwelling, a large cardboard refrigerator box she had dragged from behind one of the high rises the surrounded the park, and watched the sun set. Her heart filled with dread at the thought of the oncoming night. The dark hours were the worst to be here in the park. Between the other homeless, who were always looking to steal whatever they could from you, and the teenagers, who wavered between tormenting you and on one occasion attempting to rape you, it was a time to stay alert not to sleep.

Sleep was for the daylight hours, when the civilized people were out and ignoring you. That was the safest time of the day to do get rest. Unlike at night, when everyone saw you as a potential victim, the daytime folks just did everything in their power to avoid you. You could curl up in your hidden box and catch a few hours shut eye before heading out to panhandle money, hoping to get enough to buy something to eat.

A close by voice caused Rebecca to scuttle further back into her new home. She pushed her self as far back as the box would allow, and curled herself into a tight ball, praying that whoever it was wouldn’t see her if they found the box and looked in it. She had a large heavy stick she had found a week or so ago to use as a weapon, but she was reluctant to use it. She would if it came down to it, but then there was a chance of the police becoming involved, and that was the last thing in the world she wanted.

As she huddled up and patiently waited fear filled, Rebecca thought back over the last two and a half weeks for what seemed like the millionth time and cursed the decisions and circumstances that had brought her to this place.

************

Then:

It had taken her the better part of an entire day to finally free her self from the room she had awakened in. The bed, which Ronald could have pushed aside with ease, proved to be so heavy to her new substantially weaker form she had wondered if she would ever be able to move it. There had been several moments she was within inches of giving up and just lying on the floor to wait for death but the hunger refused to allow her.

The hunger, oh God, the hunger! It had been worse than any she had ever experienced in her life. The constant gnawing in her gut had been literally eating away at her as she struggled with the formidable obstacle. By the time she was able to stagger out of the door, she looked as emaciated as any of the staring children from poor African nations they were constantly showing on television. One look at her wasted form would have brought home the true meaning of the word malnutrition to any unfortunate enough to have gazed upon her.

Thin as a rail, weak as a newborn, and quite literally starving to death, Rebecca hardly even took notice of the seeming gallons of dried blood that covered in spot and splattered in others the walls and floors of the deserted hall way. Her muddled mind strained to recall location of the small office cafeteria that she had eaten in during her first day here. Her mind continually reversed itself on her, making her believe it was in one direction one minute and in the complete opposite the next.

After a seeming eternity of wandering aimlessly Rebecca, finally stumbled into the lunch room. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled loudly as she thought of what kinds of food might be waiting for her inside the room but to her dismay, the place had been completely cleaned out. The small dorm room sized refrigerator, every cabinet, every drawer was completely empty. Not so much as a packet of sugar could be found. Even the small candy machine, standing idle at the back of the room almost as if it was mocking her, was devoid anything to eat.

A felling of utter hopelessness came over her as she searched every drawer and cabinet a second, and then a third time for even the smallest morsel to put into her howling belly. As with her initial search however, there was still nothing was there to be found.

It was too much for her fragile mind to deal with. In her rage and frustration, Rebecca slid to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. The constant ache of starvation gnawed at her incessantly, unrelentingly, driving her closer and closer to the edge of her sanity.

She stayed in that spot with her thin back pressed up against the cabinets until she managed to get control of her emotions and struggled back to her feet. How long the storm had raged within her she didn’t know, but for what felt like the first time all day Rebecca was able to think clearly. She understood that it might be just a brief interlude before she became purely hunger driven again. Looking at her surroundings as if truly seeing them for the first time, the long brown haired new woman tried to come up with some kind of a plan.

She needed food, that was for sure, but she also realized for the first time that she had no clothing on. With that realization, she unconsciously crossed her arms over he new breasts and looked from side to side, giggling slightly at her own foolishness while reminding herself that there was no one there to see anything. Still, she felt exposed and awkwardly vulnerable in a way she never had as a man. ‘There’s obviously nothing here for me to eat.’ she thought as her stomach rumbled. ‘So I’m going to need to go somewhere else to get food, that is for certain. However I can’t go outside looking like this. My first priority then, is to find something to wear.’

Rebecca wasn’t exactly in the best of neighborhoods. More to the point she was in one of New York’s worst. Clothing was a definite must, no doubt about that in her mind. Fully clothed she’d be incredibly lucky to get to a safer area of the city without incident. Naked, there was no chance she wouldn’t windup dead or worse before she made it two blocks, if even that far. Rebecca felt the sting of tears welling up in her eyes and a small taste of hysteria flittered through her mind.

Reaching up, she slapped herself across the face as hard as she could in an effort to keep the madness at bay. A bit of composure returned, but still, a trickle of trepidation remained. A second slap, this one harder than the first, seemed to do the trick. The burning pain across her left cheek was as welcome as a spring day, compared to the darkness of terror that had been steadily growing inside of her. The pain refocused her thoughts, and she quickly stepped back into the hallway again.

This time the dried gore came into quick, sickening focus. Rebecca tried to avert her eyes, but no matter where she looked it seemed there was blood, either soaked into pools or splattered. ‘What the hell happened here?’ she wondered as she began to look into every room that lined the hall for some kind of clothing.

After what felt like hours, the starving new woman stumbled on a linen room that was still stocked. In it were shelves half filled with white hospital open back gowns, blue and pink nurses scrub outfits and even a long white linen lab coat hung from a hook in the back. Stacked along side everything else were a few white sheets and thin hospital issue blankets.

Rebecca tore though the closets contents trying to find something that would fit her emaciated body. To her delight, as she searched. A Snickers bar fell from between two sets of scrubs. Apparently someone had left it there for later consumption as it was still in its wrapper. The sight of the candy bar made her stomach rumble like a Richter 10.0 earthquake. She could barely contain herself long enough to unwrap the chocolate bar before devouring the sweet treat. Never had a piece of candy tasted so good, or done so little to satisfy her hunger. Much to her consternation, the small snack served to only increase her hunger.

The feeling of the ravenous beast with in her, gnawing at both Rebecca’s stomach and reasoning, she grabbed a handful of clothes and pulled them on. The new woman tied and tucked where she could in an effort to keep them from falling off. However she was so wasted from the transformation that nothing came even close to fitting her correctly. The pink scrub blouse hung on her so loosely that it looked as it if might fall off. She needed to tie the pull string on the pants as tight as possible, but she had to use one hand to hold them up. As she looked down at herself, she couldn’t decide which she wanted more, a belt or a large side of beef.

The word beef was all it took to return her to the previous hunger crazed state she had been in since awakening. All rational thought left her in a heartbeat. Her memory of how she managed to finally find her way out of the building was fuzzy at best. All her mind seemed to able to focus on at that point was food. Rebecca had a vague memory of wandering room after hallway, ravenous, until she stumbled down a flight of stairs and landed up against the exit door.

Daylight showed through the small windows over the top of the door frame. It looked to be the dull grey of early morning. Rebecca lay in a crumpled, pain filled heap on the dirty floor, staring at her first glimpse of true daylight in what seemed like forever. Everything in her world just stopped as she looked at the grayish glow coming through the dust encrusted window over the top of the doorway. For a brief moment it seemed as if nothing had ever been so beautiful. A small smile creased her lips, as for a short time it seemed as if everything might turn out alright in the end.

The moment ended as she shifted her weight turning herself up right. A sharp pain shot through her lower back and her legs, ending in a burning sensation in her toes. Eyes wide Rebecca laid still and suffered through the stabbing pain for almost a full minute until the misery began to subside. Inhaling deeply the new woman braced her self and clawed her way back up to an upright position. Her legs and back protested loudly the entire time, almost buckling a handful of times. Several time she found that she needed to stop and let the pain subside before she could continue. The emptiness in her belly, however, forced her to continue on, and finally, with one last great heave, she was back on her feet at last.

The door seemed to be stuck on something, as it resisted her efforts to push it open. Rebecca leaned into it and tried again, still it wouldn’t budge. A small tinge of desperation flickered through her as she pushed with every ounce of strength her deteriorated muscles could manage and results remained unchanged. Rebecca could feel tears of frustration building up as the realization this might not be the exit began to dawn on her. She desperately rattled the doorknob, again to no avail.

Despondency began settle in, growing out of the fear the she would never get out of this cursed place. Rebecca slammed her self off the door as hard as she could, causing it rattle to inside its frame. She bounced off the unforgiving wooden obstruction and tumbled back towards the stairway. As she fell away, her hand clutched at the knob, and with a loud creak, the door swung in wards towards where Rebecca landed.

The sight of the open door was almost too much for her to take. Rebecca began to laugh hysterically. She had spent the entire time pushing against the damn thing, and all she had needed was to pull it inwards. She sat there on the steps laughing at her own stupidity until a certain quality to the laughter sent a chill down her spine. For the briefest of moments it sounded to her like the laugh of someone who had lost their mind.

Standing up and pushing the chill aside, the dark haired new woman took a tentative step out into the neighborhood beyond the threshold. The tenement had a dilapidated porch, complete with cracked wood, listing pillars, a sagging roof and peeling paint. Beyond the platform lay a small flight of perilous looking wooden stairs. If she had still been a man, Rebecca doubted the porch floor would have held her weight. ‘But then again, if I was still Ronald, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.’ she thought darkly.

Admonishing herself for counter productive thinking, Rebecca took a long look first to the left. Seeing not a single soul on the deserted trash lined street, she let hope creep in for a moment and turned to look to her right. The coast appeared to be clear in the direction, also. Hoping no one was waiting beyond her line of sight, she took a tentative step forward onto the porch. The boards moaned loudly in protest beneath her small feminine feet, but managed to hold her weight. Cautiously, Rebecca took two more steps, the floor boards protesting loudly with each step, then stopped and took another look at her surroundings. The area still seemed deserted, but she began to have a nagging, almost paranoid feeling she was being watched by unseen eyes.

Slowly she descended the stairs, which also creaked and moaned, but in the end held. Reaching the sidewalk, the surgical scrubs clad new woman tried to remember which direction would lead her to a better area of the city. She thought it might be to the west, but her famished state was causing her thought process to be a bit muddled. She stood where she was, straining to recall which way to turn, but no distinct answer would come to her. Finally she decided to go with her gut, and head west.

Lacking a compass and familiarity with the area, Rebecca found herself unsure which way was west, or which was east. Being that she believed it was still very early morning the sun should have been in the east. And as the sky was overcast and thick with clouds, she found herself having a hard time pinpointing its exact location in the sky.

As she searched a voice called out “Yo baby you looking to hook up?”

The voice startled Rebecca so badly she was surprised her pants were still dry. She looked in the direction it had come from and saw a tough looking young black man sauntering down the street in her direction. The completely irrational fear he evoked in her made her mouth go dry. In a hoarse whisper she didn’t intend, Rebecca replied “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said you looking for a hook up? A fix? Crack?”

“Drugs? N … no I…I’m not looking for any drugs.”

“Then what you doin here? We don’t get a lot of pretty white ladies down this way unless they lost or hookin.”

“Hookin?”

“Yeah. You a hooker? Ya know, a prostitute, a ho?” he said with a smart-alecky smile.

“No! I’m not like that. I … I’m lost.”

“Damn straight you lost. Your skinny white ass don’t belong in this place, that’s for sure. Bad things can happen to someone like you in a place like this. Where you trying to get to? Maybe for a price, I can give you directions or somethin.” He was getting dangerously close, and Rebecca began to slowly back peddle. “Where you think your goin?” the youth asked in an intimidatory voice.

That was all it took to make Rebecca bolt. Panic stricken, virtually hysterical, she ran like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Rebecca had no idea where she was going, all she cared about at that point was putting distance between her and the young thug.

Rebecca looked over her shoulder she saw the youth not only chasing after her, but closing the gap between them steadily. With every step she felt herself starting to lag as he continued to gain ground. Gritting her teeth she tried to push out one last burst of speed but there was just nothing left in her tank. Her efforts to escape came to an abrupt end as she tripped over her own feet, fell and skittered across the pavement.

Before Rebecca had even come to a complete stop, the drug dealer was on her. He reached down and grabbed hand full of her long brown hair and the new woman yanked to her feet by it. A small alley way was about fifteen feet away. He attacker, keeping a tight grip on her hair pulled her into it.

“Where you think you goin?” he asked as he slammed her up against the nearest wall. “I don’t member telling you that you could leave.”

Rebecca bounced off the solid brick, hard enough to cause her to make her teeth rattle. With no hint of compassion, the young drug dealer used the heel of his palm and smacked her one in the forehead, causing the back of her skull to clang off the wall a second time. “Come wit me!” he ordered, grabbing her left biceps tightly and pulling her further into the darkened ally way.

An additional thirty feet farther down the trash strewn, rat infested service way they stopped. The drug dealer, Franklin he said his name was, turned and shoved her to the ground roughly. “Gonna teach you some respect. You don eva run way from Franklin unless he says fa you too.” he hollered as he kneeled down next to her.

The terrified former actor tried to squirm away, but the wall behind her gave her nowhere to go. Franklin slapped her across the face for her efforts. As her head again was rocked backwards, Franklin grabbed her by the cheek bones and pulled upwards. He clenched the same fist he had just slapped her with and held it over her as if waiting for the proper moment to strike her again. “Now tell why you ran away? Did I do something to offend your lily white ass? No? Well then maybe you just don like black people then. Is that what it is? You a racist? I’ll tell you what Mz. skinny ass white racist. I’m gonna give you a chance to live. I’m gonna pull my fly down and pull out something for you to play with. Maybe if you lucky I let you live when you done, but only if ya please me though.”

His words set a jolt of fear driven adrenalin though Rebecca’s wasted body. Seizing Franklin’s hand as he moved to unzip his fly, she pulled it down towards her mouth and sank her teeth deeply into its side. The warm salty taste of his blood in her mouth both sickened her and sent her hunger pangs into a frenzy. It was all she could do to not rip the morsel of flesh off and swallow it down.

Franklin pulled his injured hand back screaming “Bite me?! You fucken bitten me? I’ll fucken kill you for dat you bitch!”

Rebecca pushed herself further against the wall, trying to put another inch in between her and the raving mad drug dealer. As she pushed, her hand landed on what felt like half of a brick. Without thinking, the new woman seized the piece of stone as he reached down to grab her and swung it up as hard as she could muster, catching her attacker in the temple. Franklin, stunned by the blow rocked to the side, but somehow remained on his feet.

Thinking she hadn’t hit him hard enough, Rebecca swung it again, and caught him flush in the side of the face this time. Franklin howled in pain and dropped to his knees. A third strike put him down for the count, falling face first onto the concrete alleyway pavement.

Rebecca scrambled to her feet and brought the piece of brick down on the back of his head two more times for good measure. The young black man lay completely still. She stood over him for a minute and watched him bleed from the gash she had opened up in the back of his skull, the taste of his blood lingering in her mouth.

****************

Now Monday July 24 5:30am Battery Park:

As she lingered over the memory of that moment, Rebecca shuddered. Though she was at loathe to admit it, somewhere deep inside she was certain that if she hadn’t caught the scent of food cooking from somewhere nearby at that exact moment, she would have taken another bite out of her attacker. The vague acknowledgement of how badly in need of nourishment and what she would have done at that moment to satisfy it sent a second chill through her. Attempting to push the memories aside, she refocused on the task at hand.

With the dawning of a new day and having made it through another fear filled night unscathed, it was time to try to collect enough money to buy something for breakfast. She reached her hand deep into the park trash barrel and pulled a third can out of it. Looking around nervously, Rebecca quickly added it to the small collection of them in the old pillow case she carried. Taking another peek into the barrel and seeing no more cans, she mentally calculate how many more she would need to buy something to eat. The total wasn’t as close to being reached as she would have liked. With no other choice, she shuffled off towards the next waste barrel and began to search its contents for more cans.

*********

Then:

The vague yet persistent smell of cooking meat distracted her completely from Franklin’s prone form. The hunger overwhelmed her ability to think and she absently dropped the brick. Without even being aware of doing it, she walked off towards the mouth of the alley, sniffing the air like a bloodhound on a trail as she went. She stopped as she reached the still deserted street and looked left and right inhaling the smell of the city deeply hoping to identify the source of the enticing smell.

It seemed to becoming from the left. Turning in that direction, Rebecca shuffled zombie-like as she let her nose lead her. Her eyes looked as vacant as those of a strung out drug addict. She couldn’t help it though, the look. It was almost as if she was in a trance. Her need for nourishment had taken complete control of her and there was no way she was going to be able to deny it any longer.

Half way down the block, Rebecca spotted the source of the smell. It was coming from a small restaurant that looked as if it were the very definition of the word greasy spoon. The smell of cooking bacon, sausage, ham or some other kind of meat wafted from the small chimney at the top of the single story building the housed the eatery. The aroma made her mouth water to the point that she was all but drooling out of the corners of her mouth.

Giving no thought to the fact she had no money to pay for a meal, the starving woman schlepped into the establishment. The wonderful odor of food being prepared was intoxicating. Feeling a line of drool spill from her watering mouth, she absently wiped at it and began to look for a place to sit.

Before she could even take a single step towards one of the small well used looking wooden tables a voice called out to her from behind the long eating counter. “Don’t you even bother to sit down til you show me you gots some cash.” a tall, elderly, serious looking Hispanic man called out.

Rebecca looked at him helplessly. She needed food, but the man was right she didn’t have any money. In desperation she whimpered “Please sir … I’m starving. I … if you would just let me eat I would gladly pay you back as soon as I get back home.”

“Does this look like a soup kitchen to you? Does it look like I can afford to have people eat here for free?” he yelled as he waved his arms at the grungy looking dining area. “I can’t give good people credit here, never mind crack addicts! Get out!”

“Pl … please sir … I … I just need to eat. I … I promise to pay you as …”

“I said get out!” he demanded. Looking as if he had completely lost his patience, the old man came around the counter and strode towards her.

“Please!!!” Rebecca pleaded feeling like she was loosing control. “I just need to eat something…anything you can spare. I promise to pay you! Please sir…I’m begging you.”

The old man grabbed her by the arm hard enough to make her yelp in pain. He began pulling her towards the door screaming “I said ge…”

Blackness. Try as she might Rebecca just couldn’t recall what had happened after the restaurant’s owner had grabbed her. She’d gone over it a thousand times in her head and not even a hint as what had gone on during that lost time would reveal itself. She wasn’t sure if her mind blocked the memory, which worried her, or if she had simply lost her mind completely and there was no memories to hide, which scared the shit out of her.

The next thing Rebecca remembered was waking up on the floor of the restaurant’s kitchen, feeling sated. The overpowering hunger that had been with her since waking up was finally gone. So consuming had it been, that she felt slightly odd with it now gone. Her belly felt slightly bloated as she passed a hand over it, enjoying the reprieve from the hunger.

After laying there for several minutes, she decided to sit up. As she did, Rebecca looked around at her surroundings. Wherever she was, the place was a complete mess. The remains of an incredible variety of food were strewn about everywhere. A large puddle of what looked like either maple syrup or some brand of dark colored soda sat immediately to her right and a huge pile of what could only have been mashed potatoes rest to her left. ‘Looks like someone held a world class food fight.’ She thought to herself as she continued to survey the unbelievable mess

Shifting from looking at her surroundings, to looking herself over, the formerly hunger driven woman found she was no cleaner that anything else in the room. Her shirt and pants were stained almost black with god only knew what. Her hands were encrusted with what she thought might be a combination of dried egg yolk and ketchup. Unconsciously, she wiped the back of her hand, causing an avalanche of crumbs to tumble onto her lap. Disgusted, she ran a hand through her hair and grimaced at the feeling of food particles stuck in it.

Confused Rebecca pulled herself up to her feet. From this height, the room revealed itself to be an industrial kitchen of some kind. ‘I must still be in the restaurant,’ she deduced.

She shook her head trying to make sense of the scene before her. There was trash thrown about the entire kitchen. The floor was all but covered, and the walls were splattered with unimaginable amounts of grime. ‘How could a restaurant stay in business with a kitchen in such horrible condition?’ she wondered quietly as she continued to take the scene in.

It seemed to her that there must be more pieces to the puzzle that she just couldn’t see yet. She strained to remember anything that might have given her a hint as to what had happened, or how she had wound up in the back, but there was only a long dark blank. With a disappointed shrug, she gave up and walked over to the ancient looking swinging door that separated the kitchen and the dining area.

“Hello?” Rebecca called out, not entirely sure that she wanted anyone to respond as she stepped into the front of the restaurant. A strong copper like smell assaulted her as she entered the eerily silent room. Glancing at the clock the stood above the entrance to the establishment, she saw it was almost 11am. The place should have been full with people eating a late breakfast or and early lunch, but the window shades remained drawn.

Taking a couple more steps into the room, she found the strange odor even more prevalent. Looking around the room and seeing no possible sources, she sniffed the air, trying to figure out where the stench was coming from. Though the entire room seemed to be filled with the smell, it seemed to be slightly stronger off to her right, so she began her search in that direction. After about a dozen steps she stumbled onto the source of the offending odor.

Lying unmoving on the floor about eight feet back from the front door, nestled between a handful of overturned tables, was the elderly owner of the restaurant. From the painfully contorted way he was laying and the pool of what looked like dry blood beneath him it was obvious that the man was dead. Rebecca reached down and felt for some sign of life. The lack of any pulse and the cool temperature of the body confirmed her initial observation.

Standing back up, Rebecca stared at the body. Fear began to take root inside of her. She strained again to remember what had happened, hoping that there was some way that she could explain the scene without putting the blame for it on her shoulders, but was still unable to see through the dark shroud that covered her memory. The longer she stood trying to deny it, the more intense the certainty growing inside of her was that she was somehow responsible for what had happened. A cold chill ran up her spine, then slowly back down again.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” she said out loud, without meaning to. The hollow echo her voice produced made her jump a bit.

Rolling her eyes at her skittishness as she fought off the heebie jeebies, McTavish started to make her way to the front door. As she put her hand on the door know she stopped. There was a small curtain the cover the window in the top half of the door. With just the tip of her finger, Rebecca slid it slightly to the side and peered though it. Her eyes were stung by the bright sunshine outside the door, the early morning cloudiness having apparently burned off at some point. To her dismay, the sidewalk was full of people walking by, going about their business.

The sight of the crowd sent a fresh wave of fear washing over her. With that many people milling around she was essentially trapped. There was no way she was going to be able to step out the door and simply slip away without anyone noticing, especially considering the mess her clothes were. Someone was bound to see her if she tried.

Stepping back from the door she turned and headed back though the kitchen, looking for the delivery entrance. As she entered the cooking area and looked along the rear wall, Rebecca found herself unable to identify any kind of door in there. She searched up and down the back wall for several minutes. There had to be a door there somewhere. If there wasn’t then she was truly trapped and she was convinced her sanity wouldn’t be able to survive any kind of long term imprisonment with the dead man in the next room.

After several more minutes of frantic searching, Rebecca realized she had walked past it six or seven times. There halfway down the wall was the delivery entrance, partially obscured by a food preparation rack that had been rolled in front it. The slightly hysterical quality of the laughter she broke into at her own stupidity after the discovery sent a tremendous chill through her as she began to wonder if she hadn’t already lost her mind.

McTavish stared for a long time at the grime encrusted metal door. From the way the hinges were set, it appeared to open outward. That was going to be a problem. She stood silently there and fretted over what to do next. If she opened the door, there would be no turning back. If anyone was in the service ally they would know someone was in there as soon as the door moved.

The distraught woman pressed her ear to the door and strained to see if she could hear any sound that may have been coming for beyond it. No sound came through, but there was no way of know whether that meant the alley beyond was really deserted, or if the door was simply too thick to hear through. Putting her head against it again in a second attempt, the brunette girl heard only the rapid beating of her own heart as her pulse pounded in her ears.

Taking a frustrated step back, she looked at the wall near the door. The only window on it was boarded so up tightly that only thin slivers of light came though the edges. She whimpered silently and staring back at the closed door. It offered her no answers as to what lay beyond it.

The tinkle of a small bell, followed by a questioning hello, uttered by a female voice made her heart jump. Rebecca turned towards the thin door separating the kitchen from the dining room and heard someone call out “Hello? Edgar? Why are the shades drawn? Why aren’t we op… OH my god…EDGAR!!!! Oh my god!!! Someone help!!!!”

McTavish knew her time had run out as she sneaked over and took a peek through the slit between the double doors leading to the dining room. An older looking black woman was kneeling next to the Hispanic man’s lifeless body. Her tear streaked face was a mask of misery as she alternated between sobbing and wailing for help. Before long, her cries caused a second man to enter the restaurant to see what was wrong. The woman begged the newcomer to call the police.

Now it was really time to go. If she stayed there in the kitchen, she was as good as caught. ‘Guess it’s going to be all or nothing.’ Rebecca thought as she swallowed hard and boldly shoved the rear door open. It clanged loudly off the brick wall beside the frame. She cringed at the sound, but took no time to look back into the building to see if she was being pursued.

A quick glance around the small service alley revealed only one exit about two hundred feet to her left. Turning towards it, Rebecca took off running. She covered the two hundred feet in less time then she would have believed possible, slowing down only as she came to where it met the street.

The harried new girl rounded the corner and did her best to melt into the crowded side walk. As she made her way north along the bustling city street, she continually noticed passersby staring at her. Rebecca averted her eyes and looked downward as she went. She knew she was a mess but there was nothing she could do to change that at the moment.

After a couple blocks she passed by a large store front window. Taking advantage of the chance to look herself over, she glanced up as she continued to walk by and almost tripped over her own feet as she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Up until this point she hadn’t seen just how bad she looked. Her clothes, which she initially thought looked like someone had spilled ketchup on them, were stained and saturated dark brown with what could only be blood. ‘No wonder everyone’s staring.’ she thought nervously.

McTavish was so absorbed in her dismay at the makeshift reflection that she failed to register the sound of a police siren moving ever closer with each passing second until it was almost on top of her. She snapped her head in the direction of the sound, just in time to see two New York police cars zip by. Eyes following the cars, Rebecca prayed that they would keep moving until they were out of sight. However much to her consternation, the pair of patrol cars screeched to stop just down the block in front of the restaurant she had just escaped from.

Taking no time to come up with even a rudimentary plan of action, the blood stained new woman fled blindly up the street. She had no other intention than to put as much distance as possible between herself and the police. Rebecca pushed and shoved her way though the crowd, making a bigger spectacle of herself than the blood stains on her shirt ever would have. She stepped on toes and nearly knocked an elderly gentleman into oncoming traffic as she continually moved north in the vague direction of Central Park.

Later, as police questioned witnesses in the area, most would recall the dark haired woman fleeing as though the hounds of hell were at her heels through the crowd. Though none would be able to accurately describe her in any real detail, their testimony, combined with the finger prints they found all over the crime scene would be enough to put the police on her trail before the day was over.

After several blocks, Rebecca was forced to stop her frenzied flight. The burst of adrenaline that had helped propel her was depleted. Her legs felt only slightly lighter than the average Olympic power lifters bar bell. Her last few stumbling steps brought her to the mouth of another small alley way between a pair of rundown looking buildings.

Ducking into it, she bent over and put her hands on her knees. For the first time she noticed the weight of the new breasts on her chest as they heaved up and down while she tried to catch her breath. Up to this point, she hadn’t really had any time to take inventory of her new body and the new sensations that accompanied it. Now, however, wasn’t the best time to delve into either, so she pushed the strange feeling out of her mind and stood up straight, trying to ignore the way they jiggled slightly as she did so.

As her breathing began to slow, McTavish felt a familiar rumble under her feet. The feeling brought a small smile to her face as she lifted her head and looked out of the mouth of the alley. After a moment Rebecca spied what she was searching for. Salvation, in the form of a subway platform entrance, stood directly across the street from where she stood recuperating.

Even with no clue as to which train line it was that ran to this part of the city, the train station was still a much welcomed sight. The continual deluge of travelers moving in and out of the entrance was even more welcome. With all those passengers milling around she would have a better chance of sneaking onto the platform unnoticed. As with all kids growing up in the city, she had learned as a youngster, how to ride the train for free, through various methods of getting around the fare collecting turnstiles.

Slowly, attempting to look casual, McTavish walked across the busy city street and down the long flight of brick stairs into the subway entrance. She stood at the back of the fare collection area and waited patiently as she had been taught by her childhood best friend, Arnie Franks, all those years ago. The telltale rumble of an inbound train caused the rush of people to the turnstiles she had been waiting for.

As the harried crush of humanity pushed forward, Rebecca melded into the crowd and allowed herself to be swept along to the fare collection point. Arriving at the turnstile, she pressed her body against the long brown haired man in front of her, allowing both of them to pass though at the same time, with no one the wiser.

Just as a satisfied smile began to form on her lips the young gentleman she had followed stopped abruptly in front of her and looked up at the large over head subway map. Rebecca, distracted by her own worries, walked right onto him, knocking the armful of papers he had been carrying to the floor. “I … I’m sorry” she stuttered “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s OK, ma’am. “I shouldn’t have stopped right in the middle of traffic like that either. Are you OK?” he asked looking at the stains on the front of her shirt.

“Yes thank you I’m fine. I had a little bit of an accident with a ketchup bottle.” Rebecca lied, hoping he would buy the story. The young man raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. Instead, he simply bent over and began to collect his small pile of belongings off the floor. McTavish wanted nothing more than to get moving again, but felt compelled to help.

She bent over and began to collect a few of his items when he asked “Could you grab my wallet for me?” he asked. “It’s right next to your foot.”

Reaching between her legs, she picked up the young mans bill fold. It had landed on the floor, wide open, with his driver’s license sitting face up. Rebecca unconsciously glanced at it before handing it back to him.

“Kansas huh? You’re along way from home.” she said, and then mentally chastised herself for prolonging their conversation.

“I’m heading home in a few days. This is my first trip back here.”

“Well that looks like everything,” she told him, taking a last look around. “I hope you have a safe trip home.”

“Thank you for your help,…,ahh,…”

“Ummm … Rebecca.” she said impatiently

“Nice to meet you. My name is Rick, by the way.”

“Likewise. Look, I really need to get going here.”

“OK. Thank you for your help, Rebecca, and sorry about the sudden stop again,” He half yelled to her as she moved off into the crowd and continued her trek to the train platform.

Rebecca descended the final set of stairs to the train platform. She drifted as far as she could from the thirty or so people who were waiting patiently for the next train’s arrival. Her eyes kept a nervous lookout for any subway police that might be looking for her, but none materialized. After about five minutes the train arrived. With a small sense of relief Rebecca boarded it and began her trek back towards home.

It never once occurred to Rebecca McTavish that the entire time since she had left the makeshift hospital, she was infecting everyone that came in contact with her. From the moment she entered the crowd on the side walk at the end of the restaurants’ service way and continuing through her flight along 29th street and into the train station. McTavish had been exhaling massive quantities of the virus into the air at a rate of almost thirty times a minute. Rebecca was now a latter day Typhoid Mary, spreading the disease from her, then though her surrogates, to all corners of the city.

In the days and weeks to come every major city in the country and soon there after the world would come to face the same problem that was now making it’s way though the New York subway system. Acidalia knew no national boundaries, made no distinction between race and social class, not even sex had any bearing on it. It simply spread from one victim to the next, until it put to doubt the very ability of our species to survive.

As she stood in the crowded car, McTavish looked at the rail system map that hung over the door. To her delight, Rebecca saw it went all the way uptown to Penn Station. From that part of the city, she would be a mere ten or twelve blocks, no more then half an hour’s walk, from home. She smiled brightly at the thought of finally being back in her apartment, of taking a long luxurious bath and even exploring this new body, but most of all, sleeping in her own bed.

*****************

Now:

Spending some quality time lost amongst the sheets and blankets of her soft comfortable bed; that had been her ultimate goal at that moment in time. It had seemed to her that if she managed to get through the night in that bed in her room, that everything would be fine the next day. Rebecca sighed in disgust with how delusional that thought seemed now. Little did she realize at that point, that the worst part of the day hadn’t even arrived. No, there were much bigger surprises to come. Between the police, and Ronald’s family, there were much darker times ahead indeed.

****************

Wednesday July 26 Reynolds:

Thomas Logan felt her self slowly swimming back to coconsciousness. Her eyes flittered open and stung as they tried to adjust to the lights shining brightly above her head. She could feel the cold stainless steel surface of what she instinctively knew was an examination table on the skin of her back and the biting of the restraints on her wrists. “Where … where am I?” she asked no one in particular, as she shook her head in an effort to clear the drug induced cob webs from it.

“You’re in examination room six. Now please try to keep still,” she heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember who it belonged to. The sedatives that had been constantly pumped into her body for the last few weeks, were still working their way out of her system, and making it hard to focus. “Tell me, can you feel this?” she heard the voice ask.

Thomas felt a small uncomfortable tug way down low, in a spot she certainly wasn’t expecting. “Yeah, I can f … feel it. W … What the hell do you think you’re doing down there?” she asked trying to be alarmed, but still unable to generate much in the way of emotion. The doctor, working behind a large green operating room sheet, looked up for a moment, but gave no reply.

His head disappeared back behind the sheet and a few seconds later Thomas felt something sliding up inside of her. The unfamiliar sensation made her wiggle uncomfortably. “Please try to stay still. This will only take a few moments,” the doctor’s voice told her.

Thomas did her best to as she was instructed. A rush of what felt like warm water filled her bladder area, raising a bit of an alarm inside her. The level of her discomfort rose so high as she felt something dripping down the inside of her thigh and the top of her buttocks, that even the drugs couldn’t suppress it any longer. “What the fuck are you doing?” the suddenly panicked new woman screamed.

“Shhh Thomas Shhh. It’s OK. Dr. Foster is all set now. Please try to relax and be still. Stress or movement can inhibit the bonding process.” Dr. Stanley’s told her.

“Bonding? What the hell are you talking about? What the fuck have you done to me?”

“Thomas my dear, if you don’t stay still and calm down I’m going to have to sedate you again, and that could have adverse effects on the baby’s development.”

“Baby? What fucking baby? God damn it! I want to know what the fuck’s going on here!” Thomas hollered as she strained against the tables restraints.

Dr. Stanley nodded at Dr. Foster. Foster picked a small syringe filled with an amber colored liquid and stuck the small needle into Thomas’ IV line.

“We’re conducting an experiment” Dr. Stanley said as Foster pushed the plunger on the syringe. “We’ve harvested a few of your eggs while you were … incapacitated and had them fertilized by donor sperm as part of a military sanctioned experiment designed to see if male fetus’ are effected by the virus while in utero.”

“In your case, we also want to see if your genetic enhancements can be inherited by any offspring you may have, or if the mutations are limited to you. As a precaution, we implanted them back into you, in case the baby proves to be more enhanced than a lesser subject could safely carry to term. So I guess that maybe congratulations are going to be in order, Thomas. You’re going to be a mother.”

Logan’s eyes popped open in shock but before the full horror of what she heard just been told could set in, Thomas felt the burn of the tranquilizer in her arm. “W … why are you doing this to ussssssssss…?” she asked, but drifted off to sleep again before any answer could be given.

Dr. Stanley shook her head in disgust. Who was Logan to be questioning anything Paula wanted to do? She had full support to do what ever she deemed necessary to help find a cure for the virus, and if she managed to unlock the secret to its ability to enhance the human genetic structure, all the better for everyone.

“Keep an eye on the dosages we use. I don’t want the drugs affecting fetal development. I want to know once you’ve confirmed we have a successful insemination.” Paula ordered before she turned to leave the examination room.

*********************

Oakland Police Headquarters Thursday July 27 6:45pm PDT:

Vera Lynne sat in the interrogation room alone, as she had been for nearly an hour now, trying with all her might to fight back tears of shame. Her disgust and humiliation were etched on her face and could be easily seen by any that cared to look. She stated sullenly at the clock that silently counted off the minutes of her imprisonment as her mind once again wandered back over the circumstances that had brought her here.

There was no doubt that her own stupidity and bullheadedness were to blame for her current problems. She had once again picked an argument with Nicole and been over ruled yet again by Ellie. She couldn’t stand the tall redheaded new woman or her closeness to El. To make matters worse, the leader of the Sisters always came down on the redhead’s side each and every time Vera and Nicole disagreed. This time though, she had to admit they had been right in their warnings.

There had been a meeting between Nicole and the rest of Ellie’s inner circle two days ago:

“It has come to our attention that the San Francisco police, in conjunction with the military and several other government agencies, have decided that our group poses too large a threat to their internment program, to be ignored. They have made stopping us from offering haven to Acidalia victims, their top priority.” Nicole told the assemblage.

“Why are they so hot after us? Don’t they have enough to do with all these terrorist attacks on their clinics and such?” Roberta asked.

“I can only assume our flyers are what caught their attention.” Nicole replied. “But whatever their reasons, the fact remains that we are now considered a threat to them and they want our activities stopped. So until further notice, Ellie and I think it’s best if anyone with direct knowledge of the warehouse’s location, be restricted from going on clinic trips. That way it will minimize the risk of the authorities finding our base of operation until such a time that we are ready to confront them on our terms.”

“Why should we have to hide? We are doing God’s work here. That’s what El told us. We need to continue to do his work and help those that need us!” Vera said heatedly.

“I agree that we are doing God’s work but we are not strong enough as a group to take on the entire government yet.”

“Well I don’t care what you say, you’re not keeping me cooped up here like a prisoner,” Vera said angrily.

“Vera, this is Ell’s decision. If you have a problem with it, you’re going to need to talk to her about it. In the meantime, you need to stay here. There are plenty of new recruits that can take care of the clinic trips. The newer members don’t have the intimate knowledge of our overall plans that someone like yourself would.” Nicole tried to explain.

Vera had stormed off in a huff without as much as a reply to what Nicole told her. She hated Nicole, and there was no way she was going to let the tall redhead tell her anything. She was so angry that she barely realized where she was when she arrived outside of Ellie’s door. Knocking she said “Ell? Can I come in?”

“Of course, Vera.” Ellie replied.

Vera stepped into the small office that was Ellie’s room. The diminutive woman was sitting behind a makeshift desk reading something on a paper in front of her. As always when she was in the presence of this woman, Vera felt a strange peace settle over her. Many of the others had mentioned feeling the same thing around Ellie. Her presence was one of the things that kept the very large and growing group of Sisters together. “What can I do for you?” the sandy blonde haired woman asked.

“Nicole just got through telling us that we couldn’t leave the warehouse. That we were to stay here and hide, instead of doing God’s work like you tell us we are here to do. I think it’s time we cut her loose. Her head is getting a little bit too big for my taste. And I’m not the only one that’s sick of her trying to tell the rest of what to do,” Vera blurted out.

“Vera, the decision to restrict our activities was mine. I had something to attend to, so I asked her to pass the word on for me.” Ellie replied calmly. “Vera hun, may I make a suggestion to you?”

“Of course, Ell. You never need to ask my permission. I’m always here for you for what ever you need me to do.”

“Yes I know and I appreciate that about you. However, I think you need to take a step back from yourself and reevaluate how you react to Nicole. I think you are so blinded by your dislike for her, that it is clouding your judgment. Nicole is not your enemy, or any kind of a threat to you.”

Vera’s had face turned almost purple with embarrassment at Ellie’s quite accurate description of the situation that existed between Vera and Nicole. Despite knowing Ellie was right, she needed to back off from her private war with the redhead, but she just couldn’t admit it to herself at that moment.

The short fat woman’s jealousy and hatred of Nicole overrode the common sense of Ell’s argument. Vera was determined that no matter what, if it came from Nicole, there was no way she was going to listen. When the opportunity go on a trip to a clinic had come up this morning, Vera had pushed her way into the van that was heading to the Oakland testing site.

Much to her and the rest of the group’s chagrin, the FBI and the local police had been keeping an eye on the facility, and had rained down on the Sisters almost as soon as they had arrived. They had managed to apprehend all ten of them that had been in the van by simply arresting every woman in the area. It was a disaster of epic proportions.

Upon arrival at the police station, each was forced to submit to Acidalia testing. Those that had tested positive had been fingerprinted and booked like any other criminal, though they were never informed of what charges were being brought against them. The way the police had simply disregarded standard prisoner rights, and the procedures that accompanied them had appalled the lawyer in her.

After the booking was complete, each new woman was taken to separate interrogation rooms and left to sit alone in a room to stew over their situation. It wasn’t easy to just wait for them to come to her, but there really wasn’t anything Vera could do to hurry them up. Her silent wondering about how long they were going to force her to wait became moot with the click of the doors lock being disengaged.

“Well it’s nice to see no matter what else this damn bug does to you people, it doesn’t change your finger prints,” the tall black woman, announced she took a seat across the table from Vera. “My name is Lieutenant Jorga Banks and according to your fingerprints you are, or were, Mr. Vernon Lynne, attorney at law. Our records, which are obviously wrong, indicate you are currently interned at the Dillon quarantine, Mr. Lynne. Or do you prefer Ms. now? Anyhow, care to tell us how you wound up here in my police station, instead of being locked up there like you’re supposed to be?”

Vera cleared her throat and stated simply, “I want a lawyer.”

“You a member of the group that calls themselves the Sisters of Acidalia, are you not? Are they the ones that freed you? Where is their current base of operations? If you work with us, this whole situation will go a lot easier for you,” Banks continued as if she hadn’t heard what Vera said.

“I want a lawyer.” Vera repeated, knowing she still wasn’t going to get one, but wanting the detective to at least acknowledge her request.

“Mr. Vernon, are you familiar with the law that went into effect on the first of this month?” Banks asked in an annoyed tone. “It says that any unregistered Acidalia infectee is to be considered the highest level threat to public safety there is. What that means to you, essentially is that you have no rights anymore. No lawyers need to be involved because there will never be any kind of trial for you. I could shoot you right here and now, just for being out of quarantine and no one would ever question me.”

A look of surprise at the bluntness of Lieutenant’s words crossed Vera’s face, betraying her nervousness. With a great effort, the short fat new woman forced the look off her, face but it was too late. Banks had seen it, and was ready to pounce on the small chink in her mental armor it exposed.

“I see that got your attention.” Banks said gloatingly. “Good. Now I don’t want to shoot you. I don’t even want to be in the same room with you, to be honest, but my options are limited here. I could send you to the quarantine we just had set up at San Quinton. Since all the prisoners have become infected there anyhow, the government has given us permission to use it for virus quarantine, but you probably know all about that don’t you?”

Vera’s mouth went dry at the mention of the San Quinton quarantine. In the short time it had existed, the former prison had already gained the reputation of being second only to Reynolds as a place no one wanted to be sent. Rumor had it that the conditions there were horrendous. Stories of brutal rapes by the guards and torture with in its high razor wire topped stone walls were common place. There was no doubt in Vera’s mind that she wouldn’t last ten minutes there and worst of all she could see that Banks knew that’s exactly what she was thinking.

“I’ll tell you Vernon, I’m very inclined to send you there. I think you’d fit right in. They’d love that flabby butt of yours there I’d bet. Yeah I think that’s the idea. I’ll let my captain know that he needs to have them send a transport for you and the rest of your little crew. That is unless you agree to help us with this little problem we’re having.”

Vera tried to swallow but found her mouth to be too dry. Horsley she asked “What do you want me to do?”

“There are some people from the military that want to speak to you. They have an offer for you that I think you should listen too. They are going to make you an offer that will keep you and your friends out of San Quinton. So do yourself a favor and take my advice on this. Whatever they ask you to do, agree to it.” Banks said menacingly her as she got up and walked out of the room.

Vera was left alone again. She was reasonably sure she knew what they were going to ask her to do. There was no way she was going to be able to betray Ellie, but she was scared to death of being sent to San Quentin. The stress over what she was going to do began to make her feel sick. Was her freedom and safety more important to her than Ellie’s? What kind of person would that make her if it was?

Vera was just working herself into a real nervous frenzy when a tall light skinned man wearing an Army issue viral suit and a dark haired woman dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a grey tee shirt that said CDC in small letters just above her left breast entered the room. “Mr. Lynne? My name is Lieutenant Colonel Tyler. I am the second in command in this area in the Acidalia containment effort. Officer Banks tells me you wish to cooperate with us.”

“I told her I would listen to what you had to say but that’s all I’ve committed to at this point.” Vera said in a cool voice that surprised her.

“Of course … I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Mia Blue, formally of CDC.” Mia nodded at Vera but said nothing.

“I’ve seen her before … on TV.” Vera acknowledged.

“As have most. Anyhow we want you vouch for Dr. Blue’s admission into the Sisters.”

“Why?”

“Does it really matter? We want her there and you are the one we want to get her in…end of story. If you decide not to help us, I’ll have officer Banks get you a spot on the next transport to Reynolds or San Quentin. It’s up to you really.”

“What happens to me once you get what you want?”

“Once Dr. Blue’s mission is completed we promise to place you in either the quarantine at Montpelier or Roanoke. Those are two of the best run facilities currently under operation. Does that sound like an acceptable deal to you?”

“What about the others that were arrested with me?”

“That’s not really any if your concern I’d say. The choice for you is simple, help us and we help you, refuse and it’s best of luck to you. It’s entirely your decision. I would suggest that you choose quickly however. The Oakland police may decide that they don’t want to allow you to help us if you take too long.”

Vera looked miserably at Tyler and Mia. She couldn’t fathom betraying El, but they weren’t giving her any real choice in the matter. One way or another they were going to get this doctor inside the Sisters, she understood that. Perhaps if she was there when the time came she would be able to get Ellie out of there before they caught her. If she was in quarantine there would be no way what-so-ever for her to help. That last thought made her decision for her. Looking up at the military officer she said, “Fine I’ll do what you ask.”

*************************

In the hallway outside the interrogation room Mia looked on as Tyler stripped out of the viral suit. Being that there were no decontamination rooms in the station the Lt Colonel figured that was as good a spot as any. As each piece of the suit was removed it was placed into a thick red plastic biohazard bag, which was then placed in another then taken away for disposal.

“How do you know she won’t just tell the others that I’m a spy as soon as we get there? For that matter, why do you even need me to go inside now? Wouldn’t it be just as easy to make her tell you where they’re located and just go there to arrest everyone?” Mia asked.

“We could do that, but the Colonel wants them to stay in business for a while to help flush out any plague victims that might manage to slip through the cracks. Meanwhile you’ll be telling us where they will be and we cherry pick who it is we want to arrest and at what time until we’re ready to take them down for good. If they decide to go underground you will be there to tell us where they are. So we’ll get them either way.

As for how we know Mr. Lynne won’t betray you to the groups leaders…well just leave that to us. We’ll make sure he has the proper motivation to keep your secret.” Tyler informed her. “Now I would suggest you get your things. Mr. Lynne will be ready to go in about an hour.”

Mia nodded her head and began to walk down the hall when Tyler added “And doctor, don’t you forget what’s at stake if you decide to betray us.”

Mia looked at him with impotent fury written all over her face. “How could I possibly forget your holding my daughter and grand daughter hostage?”

“So long as you remember what the consequences will be if you have a change of heart. Now get yourself ready to move out.”

*******************

KLTR 11pm news:

Good evening San Francisco this is what’s happening tonight:

President Fuller held a press conference this afternoon to answer questions about the video that was released allegedly showing the horrendous conditions that exist for those living in the Reynolds Quarantine Facility. The video, for those of you that have not seen it, shows massively over crowded conditions, an infirmary chock full of patients, some who looked beaten and bruised and a laundry full of ragged, bloody clothes among a myriad of other violations of basic human rights.

The footage caused an immediate out cry of disgust and revulsion from ACLU and several other human rights groups. ACLU chairman Robert Fellows was quoted as saying “No one should be forced to live in the conditions shown on the video. It is appalling that something like this could be allowed to happen in this great country of ours. The fact that none of the residents of the facility have been convicted of a crime only makes the footage that much more damning.”

The President, during a brief statement before taking questions, promised swift action. As proof of his commitment to this pledge he went on to announce the formation of two separate committees to deal with the situation.

The first, to be headed by Vice President William Fielding, will be tasked with over seeing all quarantines in the country. Its primary responsibility will be to create a set of basic standards for inmate care going forward, and a system of penalties for noncompliance.

The second committee will be headed by Chief Justice of the Supreme Court Holland Roma. Justice Roma will be charged with investigating the actual conditions the video tape has shown. It will be his committee that will determine if living conditions are truly as bad as the tape would suggest and recommend charges for anyone determined responsible to the Attorney General for prosecution.

President Fuller did however emphasize that at this time there was no direct evidence that any laws had been broken or any way to verify that the tape was actually taken inside the facility until the investigation was complete. The President was quoted as saying “Until Justice Roma’s committee comes up with some kind of hard evidence that the scenes are indicative of the conditions inside the Reynolds Facility, I will refrain from commenting on any changes that may need to be made there. However I can announce that top CDC virologist Dr. Paula Stanley has been named as the new head of the quarantine. Dr. Stanley replaces outgoing Director Major Craig Brady, who is stepping down for health reasons. I want to make it clear this change has northing to do with the video and has been in the works for some time.”

Dr. Stanley, a world renowned scientist and one of the first members of the CDC task force to arrive in the Bay area after the initial out break of the Acidalia virus, is a well respected member of both the scientific and medical communities. She has received several citations of merit and was nominated for the Noble prize in science for her work on the AIDS virus in 1997.

In other news: The Pacific Fleet took a major blow this afternoon as the Air Craft Carrier USS Ronald Regan was run aground in Puget Sound. The carrier was struck by a torpedo at approximately 3 o-clock Pacific daylight time. The weapon, launched by a French submarine disabled the huge ships rudder system, effective destroying its ability to change course. The mighty vessel was then left to the whims of tide and wind which eventually caused it to drift into the shallower waters inside the Sound and eventually winding up stranded on a series of sandbars.

All attempts to dislodge and drag the carrier into deeper waters have been hampered by the presence of an unknown number of Russian and Chinese submarines that are paroling the sound and preventing any rescue vessels from getting near the stranded ship.

U.N. Secretary General Mushin Mosbard in a statement on the stranding today was quick to point out that all US Navy personnel were allowed to be removed from the stranded ship. He also went on to say that as soon as the United States agreed to the cessation of all hostilities and submitted to the security councils demands, the recovery of the carrier would be allowed to commence.

White house press secretary Kerry Enrich responded to the statement by saying that the United States would never give up its sovereign right to govern itself and cede control of it’s citizens future to an organization only interested in reducing our country’s place on the world stage.

In other Washington news, preparations continue for the commencement of the trial of Dr. Carla Ryson that’s scheduled to begin at 9am eastern time this coming Monday. The doctor, as you will probably remember, has been accused of crimes against humanity. It is the government’s contention that Dr. Ryson was responsible for the release the Acidalia virus into the general population.

FBI and Secret service have planned to completely shut down all traffic in a five block area surrounding the Federal Court House. Removable barricades have been brought in and will be placed across the streets along the security perimeter during the times when the trail is in session. Washington D.C. Mayor Julian Morison has publicly questioned the need for these extreme measures, but according to sources, the Mayor has received no response from the federal government.

~~~~~~~

“You know, why don’t they just tell us where the agents will be stationed and what their sightlines will be like while they’re at it?”

“That cocky attitude of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days, Philip.” Gail said, a huge satisfied smile on her face as she continued to work the ropes that held her to the chair they had placed her in upon her arrival in the room.

“Just sit there and shut the fuck up will you?!” Philip snapped back. “Christ do we really need this bitch? There’s got to be someone else we can pin this shit on.”

“Philip, we’ve been over this a thousand times … The big guy wants her to take the blame so yes, we need her. End of story.” Randy told the rotund terrorist. “Now if we could get back to work here, there are a lot of details we need to iron out.

Now I’d say we need to set up surveillance at these points to start with. I think they would be the ideal … Gail’s mind began to drift off as Randy droned on. She supposed she should be paying attention, even if she wasn’t sure why they even bothered to have her involved in their little meeting considering she was a prisoner not a coconspirator. Either way the specifics of their plan to take the doctor did really matter. She had one purpose in this little undertaking; she was here to be blamed and it pissed her off something fierce.

She wanted to kill Dr. Ryson. She would love to kill her. She was even looking forward to doing it, in some small way. So doing that part of what they wanted wasn’t the issue. Her problem was with having to do it for these people who had put her and her friends out in the streets. Of course being kidnapped and dragged back to the safe house hadn’t made her day either.

***********

The first few days out on the streets of San Francisco with little in the way of money had been tough. The four of them had wandered the city looking for food and a place to stay. After spending a few nights sleeping outside in parks and alleyways, they had lucked out and managed to get into a woman’s shelter.

For the first few weeks, everything had been fine, and there had actually been some hope that they would find a place to stay and wait for the epidemic to run its course. No more blowing up clinics, no more shooting doctors, just hunker down for the storm. It all seemed possible.

That is, until a week ago, when the Summers sisters began to get sick again. At first, it had just seemed like just another relapse. That had happened before. However it soon became apparent that things were different this time. Instead of returning to good health within a day or so as they had every other time, the girls continued to become more and more ill every day, until this morning they had been practically a flame with fever.

The shelter’s director, Mr. Hammond had come upon the two girls lying on their bunks long after the time they were expected to be out for the day, pale as sheets, in the midst of a fever induced delirium. Out of concern for their health and shelter protocol, Hammond had called the paramedics to come look at the sisters. When Gail and Yvonne returned to the main room they found the room filled with emergency response personnel.

“Oh Shit! What the fuck is this?” Gail wondered as she came around the corner from the women’s shower room and took in the scene. “Oh Christ! The girls!” She grabbed Yvonne’s arm and pressed the two of them up against the wall, silently cursing her self for leaving Alexis and Sandra alone while she and Yvonne went off to get some cold water for compresses.

“What’s going on?” Yvonne asked.

“Look for yourself,” Gail replied, allowing Yvonne to poke her head around the corner.

“Oh no! What are we going to do?” Yvonne asked as she looked the scene over.

“I have no idea. For now, we’ll just have to watch what’s going on and wait for an opportunity to get those two out of here.”

She and Yvonne stepped back around the corner and intently watched the medical professionals work. They seemed to be doing their best to determine what was wrong with the girls. They ran test after test, checked all their vital signs and constantly relayed their findings via radio to a doctor at some hospital, but Gail didn’t catch which one.

As her mind raced over the possibilities, Gail heard one of the paramedics suddenly announce that the two women were both Acidalia positive. You could have heard a pin drop in the shelter after the pronouncement. The two that had been attending the Summers, immediately took several steps back from the sick women. All attempts to help them were stopped. “Someone call the Health Department!” Gail heard someone in the small group say.

“Gail, what are we going to do?” Yvonne whispered.

“What can we do? They know they’re infected. If you try to help them, they’ll force you to be tested, too, and then I’ll have three friends I can’t help.” Gail answered with resignation.

“But we can’t just let them be taken to quarantine.”

“I know, Yvonne, but what do you want me to do? I mean, if you have a plan of some kind, then tell me, cause hun, I’m fresh out of ideas here.” Yvonne looked at Gail helplessly but said nothing. “If it makes you feel any better, the doctors at the quarantine will have to help them, so there’s a chance they might make it if they go there.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Yvonne said flatly.

“Me either,” Gail agreed as she watched the small crowd mill around while they waited for the health department to arrive. She was acutely aware that time was running out for them to escape. If they stayed much longer, they were likely to be caught as well. The sisters had been caught. That, coupled with the fact that the cops would lock the shelter down tight once they arrived, made getting out as soon as possible their highest priority. Now she just needed to convince Yvonne of that.

Turning to face Yvonne Gail said “OK, Sweets. Time to make a decision. The girls are busted, there’s no way we can help them now. Either we get the hell out of here, or we wait and get caught along with them, eventually. What’s it gonna be? The choice is yours.”

Before Yvonne could answer, the sound of shouting made the two women look back at where the Summers girls were lying. A policeman there was screaming about having kids and a wife and how unfair it was that he was now infected with the virus because of trying to help the sisters. One of the Paramedics and the shelters director tried to calm the hysterical man down, but he would have none of it.

“They stole my life! They stole my family!” he screamed, pulling his revolver out of its holster.

“My god, Gail what is he doing?” Yvonne asked in an alarmed whisper.

Gail just stood transfixed by the scene unfolding before her, unable to answer her friend’s question. She quietly prayed the cop was just going to take his own life, but something deep inside told her that there was no way this man was going to die alone. Director Hammond and now both paramedics continued to try to calm the officer down as the rest of the small group of bystanders dove for cover.

“Bob” she heard the taller medical worker say. “There’s no guarantee that you’ve been infected. We don’t even know that they are in a contagious phase right now. Now why don’t you just calm down and put your gun away? You’re scaring the hell out of everyone else here, man.”

“No guarantee? No guarantee? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? That I might not get it? Fuck that, Jimmy! You’ve read the same infection reports I have, so don’t feed me that bull shit! They’ve all but killed us!”

“Bob that’s not …”

“Shut the fuck up!!!!!!!!!!!!” the policeman screamed. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he looked down at Alexis and Sandra.

The two paramedics must have thought the cop was distracted enough as they rushed the distraught man. That idea proved to be completely wrong. Before they moved more than two feet, the officer swung his gun in their direction.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Bob screamed as he opened fire. His two would be attackers dove for the floor, narrowly avoiding being shot. Before they had even stopped sliding the officer spun to his right and with two quick pulls of the trigger, put an end to the Summers sisters suffering.

Their infected blood sprayed out, landing all over the hysterical cop, both paramedics and Hammond. The four men stopped in their track as each one realized that there was now no hope that they weren’t infected. Bob, with a horror filled look, gazed down, wide eyed at his blood covered uniform. Before any of the others could move, the police officer turned the pistol on himself and squeezed the trigger.

Gail and Yvonne stood in stunned silence. They numbly watched the officer’s body fall to the floor, their mouths agape. Slowly they looked at the beds where the Summers girls had been laying, praying that they were somehow still alive. The blood pooling beneath the beds, gave lie to their hopes.

Gail howled “NO!”

The shocked group of onlookers barely noticed her cry as they continued to stare uncomprehendingly at the threesome of dead bodies. None of them spoke a word or moved an inch. They all just simply stared, as the wail of police sirens in the distance began to be heard.

Gail started to crumple to the floor as a steady stream of tears began to flow. Yvonne, her vision blurred bye her own moistening eyes held Gail up and began to pull her towards the back entrance of the shelter. Initially, Gail resisted, but Yvonne, who somehow managed to retain her wits despite the horror she had just witnessed, said, “There’s nothing more we can do here. Come on, hun. We need to get out of here before more police arrive.” Gail looked back at the girl’s beds for a moment before she numbly allowed herself to be led away.

The two former terrorists made their way out the back and across the small adjoining parking lot, just as what looked like the entire San Francisco Police department screeched to a halt on the street in front the building. With anguish written all over their faces, Yvonne and Gail darted away from the crowd that was beginning to gather in front of the shelter. Without stopping even long enough to glance back at the cops, the two women made their way through the onlookers and down the street, trying to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the crime scene.

After who knows how many minutes of walking later, they passed by a small park where several deserted benches formed a small semi circle around a large statue. Without a word between them, the two girls turned into the park and quietly took a seat on the bench furthest from the street. With no hope of being able to contain the emotional storms that raged within each of them, the two women clung together, offering what little comfort they could to one another.

After a bit, Gail pulled away from Yvonne’s still weeping form. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Gail looked absently out at the street. She barely registered the dark colored Lincoln until it skidded to a stop in front of where the small park. Though the darkly tinted windows wouldn’t allow her to see inside the vehicle, she instinctively knew who it was.

The moment seemed to stretch on for eternity until the blaring of a horn from the green SUV behind the Lincoln. After another minute the Lincoln moved on slowly. Gail started to get to her feet, pulling Yvonne up as she went. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“Why? Are the police looking for us?” Yvonne asked as she looked around for a patrol car of some kind.

“No it’s worse; our friends seem to have found us.”

“Friends?” Yvonne asked uncomprehendingly.

“Yeah, you know … our friends. The ones from San Francisco.” Gail told her.

“Philip? Why would he be here? Why in the world would he be interested in us? He’s the one that made us leave, for Christ sake.”

“I don’t know why but I don’t want to find out either. What ever he wants can’t be good for us. Come on. Let’s get moving before they find a place to pull over.” she urged again.

The pair of grieving friends moved off towards the back of the small park hoping to get to the street that ran behind it, then lose themselves among whoever might be walking along it. As the day was bright and warm, there was good reason to assume that next block would be has crowded as the one they had been walking on originally.

They walked quickly across the block sized park towards the rear entrance. As their objective was coming within view, Gail saw the Lincoln parked in front of the arched rod iron gate. Two men she didn’t recognize stood next to it, watching the path into the park intently. Gail looked back over her shoulder to see if going back the way they had just come was a better idea. Spying Philip walking along with a blonde haired woman, she decided it wasn’t.

There was a small grove of trees over to her left. Gail grabbed Yvonne’s arm and pulled her that direction. About thirty feet short of the tree line, she heard, “Well there you are. Do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for you?” from behind her.

The two girls continued to walk as if they hadn’t heard a word.

“Gail, Yvonne come on. I know you heard me, so just stop. I just want to talk to you. Besides, you’re not getting out of here unless I let you, so come on. Look around you. There’s nowhere for you to go.”

“Shit!” Gail cursed to herself, more than anyone else as she slowed to a stop. “Now that’s more like it,” she heard Philip saying from behind.

Yvonne and Gail turned, facing Philip and the woman with him that neither recognized. Both were pointing small pistols in their direction. “What are you going to do, Phil? Shoot us?” Yvonne asked sarcastically.

“Not unless you make me.” the terrorist replied, a hint of a smile on his face.

The look made Gail shake with anger. “What do you want? You told us to leave. Said we weren’t welcome and more. We didn’t have anyplace to go, but we still did what you said. So why don’t you just get the fuck out of here and leave us be?”

“Fraid that’s not gonna happen, my dear. I need the two of you to come with us … right now.”

“Go with you? Why the fuck would we want to do that? You think your guns are going to scare me? Go ahead, Philip. Shoot me! Let’s see if you really have the guts, cause I’m telling you, I don’t think you do. To be honest, right now, a bullet in the head might actually be a blessing!” Gail told him defiantly.

Philip smiled at his companion, Jenifer Watson,. “See? I told you she was a feisty one.” Turning his attention back to Gail and Yvonne he went on, “Look hun, I know you’d rather die than come with me, so I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. If you don’t get that lovely ass of yours headed towards my car right this second, I’m not going to shoot you. I’m going to shoot your friend, Yvonne there. After I do that, then I’m going to drag you into the car anyway. So you have a choice to make, come with me or watch another one of your friends die, right now.”

His reference to Sandy and Alexis deaths made Gail explode. Her recollections of what happened next were somewhat fuzzy and incomplete. She vaguely remembered hurling herself at the fat terrorist leader and sending him sprawling to the ground. She knew she had managed to get several shots in, from the bruises on Philips face she had seen. Then there was the sudden burst of pain in her skull, followed by waking up with a killer headache back here in Philip’s house.

Though they hadn’t come right out and said it, Philip and Randy had both intimated that Yvonne was being held somewhere to ensure Gail’s cooperation in their operation. Her demands to see Yvonne had fallen on deaf ears, so far, but she was determined to make sure her friend was in good health before she agreed to do anything for these people.

“Where is Yvonne? I want to see her!” Gail said out of nowhere. She was well aware her demands were beginning to grate on Philips nerves, and enjoyed every second of it.

“You’ll see her when you’ve done as you’re told, and not a moment before,” he replied dismissively.

“Look, you fat mother fucker. I’m not doing a damn thing for you until I make sure Yvonne is alive and unharmed.”

Randy looked at Philip, shrugging his shoulders. “Your call,” he told the ringleader.

“Shut the fuck up and do as you’re told, and your friend will be fine!” Philip told Gail as he walked over and grabbed at the gag that hung around loosely around her thin neck.

Gail did her best to bite Philip’s hand as he tried to get hold of the brightly colored bandana. However after several failed attempts, he called one of the other over to assist and Gail found herself silenced again.

“Ahh, so much better.” Philip said mockingly. “Now, since she won’t be interrupting us any more shall we finish this? I tell you, I dunno about the rest of you but I’d really like to get some sleep before we hit the road in the morning.” The rest of the gathered terrorists nodded in agreement as he returned to the table.

**********
Friday July 28 3:18am EDT Washington D.C. the White House:

“Mr. President? Sir, I need you to wake up. We have a situation that needs your attention.”

“Huh? What? What’s going on? What’s happened?” Fuller asked groggily as his eyes tried to focus in on the face of the person that had awakened him.

“It’s the pipeline, sir. We’ve just received a report that Canadian forces have made their way into our territory. They have overrun our forces and seized control of the pipeline just south of Glennallen, Alaska, and have cut of the flow of oil at that point.” Defense secretary Francis Blake informed him. “The military is waiting for your orders on how you want them to respond, sir.”

“How … how did they get so far into our territory without us knowing about it?”

“They had a massive air drop into the area Sir. Solar storms have been killing our satellite telemetry for the last few days. There was just no way for us to know, but that doesn’t change the fact that we need to do something right now sir.”

“How many troops do we have in that area? Can we retake the pipeline at that point without damaging it?”

“Yes Sir, I believe we can, but we need to act quickly before the Canadians have a chance to reinforce their position there.”

“What is General Alexander recommending?”

“Sir, the General has recommended we use everything within our means short of nukes to reclaim the area. He claims to have an action response plan ready to go and on the launching pad. He’s just awaiting your orders.”

“Tell him to go ahead with it then. Tell him we need the flow reestablished at all costs. Our very survival as a nation depends on it.”

“We’ll get it done, sir.”

“Make sure you do.”

“Yes sir, Mr. President.” Blake said as he walked out of the presidential bedroom.

The Secretary of Defense strode down the lavish hallway as quickly as decorum would allow, then made his way down the east stairway to the main foyer. As he entered, he saw General Alexander waiting, along with Chief of Staff Davis Carlyle. “What did he say?” Alexander asked skipping the pleasantries.

“The President said that we need to do whatever it takes to reclaim the pipe line. He’s given a go-ahead to the plan, General.”

Alexander looked stunned. “He did? Are you sure? Did you explain …”

“General, I told him everything he needed to know, and he agreed that it was the best option we had at the moment. His exact quote was, “Tell Alexander that we need the oil flow reestablished at any cost.”

“But did you tell …”

“General” Carlyle interrupted “the decision has been made. Your commander in chief has given the plan a green light. Now I suggest you get going and carry out his orders.”

Alexander looked sternly at the Chief of Staff. He had very little use for politicians in general, and even lees for those that weren’t associated with the military. “Is there a problem, General?” Blake asked.

“No sir. I’ll have the planes in the air with in the hour and I’ll make sure all our ground troops have their chemical warfare gear. We wouldn’t want our men dying, along with our enemies.” ‘If that’s what they really are.’ Alexander said to himself.

*******************

Horace, Kansas 9:22pm CDT:

Reverend Morris T. Manning looked down at the assembled congregation from his pulpit. He knew many of his flock didn’t agree with what he had suggested, though demanded would have been a better word, that they do with the tiny farm town’s first Acidalia victim. Manning knew despite their hesitancy, that most of his flock were good God fearing folk that would do as their Lord had commanded, and aid in the destruction of the infected devil.

The ones that opposed him, and by extension, God, didn’t matter. He knew that they would try to protect the Foley boy, but that would only bring them God’s wrath. He would let them go and do as they would, sure they would be dealt with at another time. No-one opposed God and went unpunished.

Three days ago, a young man by the name of Richard Foley had returned from a trip to New York City, a trip the Reverend had begged him not to take, for fear of the poor boy losing God’s way in the big city. The Reverend had always believed that the greater the number of sinners, as he called most outsiders, you were exposed to, the greater the chances of your being lured into a life of sin alongside them. He had prayed mightily for the boy’s soul while he was away, but his refusal to stay where God had put him, had brought a mighty punishment down on his head.

Richard, who claimed to have not been feeling very well for the last several days, had come down with a high fever a couple hours after his arrival back at his parent’s house. Ed and Silvia, his parents, had done what they could to treat the boy, but nothing had helped. Shortly after midnight that evening, the boy’s fever had spiked to over 103 degrees. Realizing their son needed more help than a bottle of aspirin could give him, they had called the town’s doctor to come look at Richard.

At first, Dr. Greg Samuels had been baffled at the boy’s condition. The elderly country doctor had never seen a person’s temperature jump so high in such a short time. After trying everything he could think of to reduce the boy’s temperature to no avail, he had recommended getting Richard into an ice bath.

“Couldn’t the shock of the cold kill him?” Ed Foley had asked.

“It might Ed, but I’ll tell you what I know for sure. If you don’t bring that fever down soon, he’ll die from it. His organs are going to start boiling if we don’t bring it down fast,” had been Samuels reply. “We need to do what we can to help him out while I make a few calls and see if anyone knows of what could be causing this.”

The Foley’s had done as the doctor told them. They put Richard, whose temperature had been nearing 105, into a tub filled with ice cold water. The delirious boy had howled and thrashed about at first. Ed had cried as he found himself forced to hold his only son in the tub.

After a while, the boy settled down. At first Ed and Silvia had been relieved, but it didn’t take long to realize that Richard was more than sleeping. He was so unresponsive that it looked like he had slipped into a kind of coma.

After a panic-stricken call to Dr. Samuels, the Foley’s placed a call to the Reverend, asking him to come pray for the boy’s safe recovery.

The Reverend had been in the house doing just that when Dr. Samuels had returned, looking as if he had seen a ghost. “What is it, Doc? What did you find out?” Silvia asked in an anguish filled voice.

“I … I don’t know how to tell you this … Ed, Silvia … I got in touch with a doctor over at the University Hospital over in Wichita. He told me that there was only one thing that could cause the kind of temperature spike we’ve seen, and the coma that followed it.”

“What is it, Doctor? What does the boy have?” Manning asked impatiently. The Reverend had little patience for people that, for whatever reason, stretched out stories unnecessarily and Dr. Samuels was well known for doing just that.

Samuels had given him an annoyed look, perhaps upset with the Reverend for spoiling the drama of the moment. “Dr. Grissom told me that the boy most likely has Acidalia, and that we need to keep him quarantined until we can get the state health people down here to take Richard to a facility. He also said that everyone that’s been in contact with him will need to be tested as soon as possible.”

“Acidalia? Oh my God, how can that be?” Silvia had squealed at the news.

“I’d bet he contracted it during his trip to New York. I told him not to go there, but he didn’t listen,” Manning said.

“Reverend, with all due respect, it doesn’t matter where he got it. It only matters that he has it. Now Dr. Grissom told me that Acidalia victims usually aren’t contagious during the transformation, so that give us a chance to …”

“What do you mean transformation? Transformation into what?” Ed had asked.

“Ed haven’t you been watching the news? Acidalia changes men into women. It’s truly a curse from God. Sent down from on high to punish the wicked among us.” Reverend Manning said, as if it was all proven fact. “We need to send him out of our community. Banish him as a sinner, before God thinks we are allied with him and metes out a similar punishment on the rest of us.”

“Banish …? Are we living in medieval times, Reverend? This boy is sick because he caught a virus, not because he’s done anything to offend God or anyone else. He got sick because he came in contact with someone that was infected and contagious,” Samuels argued.

“You mark my words, Doctor. This is a sign from God Almighty that he will punish the sinners. I need to go spread the word that there is a devil among us, and God has punished him. That way the others in our town will now repent before they are struck down as well.”

“Now wait one damn minute, Reverend! Who are you calling a devil?” Sylvia asked angrily.

Before Manning could answer, Samuels jumped in, saying “You can’t go telling everyone what’s happened here, man. Are you crazy? You’d be causing a panic. It would be akin to yelling fire in a movie theater.”

“The doc’s right, Reverend” Ed agreed. “You can’t go telling everyone in town about this. Think what you would do to my family, and my son? You need to promise that until the state health people get here, you’ll keep this just between us.”

“I’m sorry Ed, Silvia I know the two of you are right with God, and I will pray for your souls tonight, but I can’t keep this from my flock. They need to be told, and by God I will tell them!” Manning shouted.

“Reverend …” Samuels began

“No! I won’t hear another word out of you. As far as I’m concerned, this discussion is over. The people of this town will be informed of what’s happened and I will tell them what we need to do about it,” Manning announced as he gathered his bible and coat and walked out of the house.

As good as his word, Manning had spread the word through the entire town about what had happened. He had been rallying support for punishing the sick boy, as a way for the town to get back into God’s good graces. Strangely, there was more support for the Reverend than one would have thought, though that came as no surprise to Manning.

As the dark storm clouds of fear began to form over the town, Dr. Samuels and the sick boy’s parents did everything they could to coax the State health people into town to collect Richard and remove the threat before it became too late. However, the health agencies were too busy dealing with an outbreak in the Wichita area, originating oddly enough, with passengers on Richards flight, to be bothered with a single case in a remote town far away from any major population center, even though he was the patient zero they had been desperately seeking

With no help forthcoming from the state, and no way to deal with the problem locally, the seed of fear in the town began to grow into a small tree of panic. Manning did everything in his power to nurture the fears and help them along; all the while preaching that it was God’s will that the boy be punished. Though he claimed to have no other agenda other than doing God’s will, the manner in which he presented his argument began to turn a small portion of Horace’s population against him. Manning simple ignored those that disagreed with him and continued his campaign against Richard.

Now, looking down on those that had answered his call to a special meeting this evening, he knew that the Lord’s will would be done by the faithful assembled here. The rest were unimportant to him. He was sure their lack of faith would come back to haunt then in the end.

“I say to all of you who don’t see the Lords hand at work here, to all those who deny the evidence that God wants the Foley boy punished for his sins, go now! Leave this place and make way for the faithful. Make way for those unafraid to do as our Lord wants. Go now and never return to this place of worship, for you are now unworthy of God’s love!” Manning demanded.

He watched with great satisfaction as only a small handful of the townspeople got up and walked silently out of the church. He knew they would be heading directly to the Foley place to warn them of what was coming, but it didn’t matter. Reverend Manning knew God’s will, and was sure the Lord would bring victory to himself and those who followed him.

“Now, my faithful brothers and sisters, let us kneel down and pray to God to forgive those less faithful.”

The remains of the congregation did as instructed. The Reverend began a long rambling prayer to God that most would have found offensive, and been repulsed, but his growing cult of personality ate up his every word as if it was God himself speaking directly to them.

Once he was finished, they raised their heads, got up, put their coats on and began their march to the Foley house.

**********************

Confirmed cases: 100,231

Actual cases: 167,794

End part IX

Complete sentences and spelling corrections courtesy of Holly Logan.