29:16:04:59 Read online

  I walked over to a computer that appeared to be going through some coding and typed in a few lines of text that brought up the file database. I clicked on a folder and a diagram of the building unfolded. In three dimensions, the outlay of the foundation appeared. From there in the control room I would have to take the stairs off to the right, and go down two levels. The core would be right around there.

  A scream erupted from down the hallway, distant but terrifying. That was why I had to arm myself. Even though they should be dead from lack of nutrients, we never got a chance to fully understand the turning. It could have been that their systems went into hibernation mode, or something like that. Maybe they didn’t even need food or water, who knew?

  There used to be science division down there trying to study the virus. They even had a few living specimens. Everyone was infected with the virus, dormant or not. If the virus or the specimens broke containment then it would infect the entire installation. And it appeared that was exactly what happened.

  I drew the gun from my belt and moved the flashlight about. Hopefully the creatures weren’t shouting in realization that a new presence had entered their territory.

  Bending around a corner to the right, I moved to the stairwell. I wondered why they wouldn’t cut power to the secondary systems to save on the electricity, but I remembered the core was meant to run for thirty years. And if the virus wasn’t cured, most studies showed a full saturation rate of ninety-nine point nine percent, meaning the world would be over anyway. No reason to worry about saving power in a dead earth.

  The door leading to the stairwell was solid metal with no glass to peek into the corridor. Walking slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, I approached the door with the gun ready to fire. Nothing inhuman remained here. Gliding through the door, I moved into a dark stairwell. I took one step at a time. I didn’t want to have the same incident as before.

  Never had the darkness scared me this much. Confined, slow-going and quiet, this stairwell had me lost in a timeless bubble of my own guilt.

  After a few agonizing minutes a door loomed in the flashlight’s glare and declared that I had reached the bottom of the stairwell. Slowly letting the door open, I peeked out into the dimly-lit corridor and looked around. Nothing was out of place, and any screams that had echoed in the darkness before were all gone. I slipped through the door, my heartbeat slowing just a bit.

  This level should hold the core. The floor plan was huge. Several walls ran in a circle around the core itself. They were heavy duty, reinforced steel walls that would protect the installation in case the core exploded. Though that was a moot point since all the tests showed it would never detonate anyway. A soft blue hue radiated in the hallways, forcing the idea that something bloomed with life down here.

  I followed the signs and headed off to the right. I passed rooms labeled ‘Genetics,’ ‘Thermodynamics,’ ‘Quantum Mechanics,’ ‘Chronometric Alteration,’ and other rooms with signs reading what would be inside. Several scientists and doctors would have been housed down here. If the scientists had turned, or been killed by the creatures, then there’d be no one to maintain the equipment, especially the core, even if it was meant to be self-sustaining.

  The turning process abruptly filtered into my mind, and I remember the first time I’d witnessed a potential subject taking my fabled cancer cure.

  Before the virus had been accidently released, and before we knew about the potential affects, we were testing it on Andrew Fuller. Andrew was an old family friend of my Father’s, and worked in the accounting department of our business. He was seventy-two and dying of lung cancer, a constant smoker of two packs a day since he was twelve. It was a death sentence when we diagnosed him a mere two months before our trials.

  With Fuller, the drug took effect immediately. It healed his grave illness. But it didn’t take long after that before his skin began to crack and bleed. His eyes changed color to a milky substance, and blinded him. Soon he was screaming and thrashing violently, attacking the doctors and breaking containment, or at least, running into the hallways. The security buried a few well-placed shots into his forehead, and my greatest triumph suddenly became the world’s worst virus.

  The mice we tested never showed any symptoms like what happened to Andrew. Needlessly, we tried the treatment on others. They understood what could happen, but all the subjects were dying one way or another. We strapped down the subjects and pumped them full of the “cure”. Every one of the older subjects turned moments after administering the drug, or died from the reaction. But for whatever reason, the younger patients never had the same response. Anyone under the age of twenty-six took fully to the drug, healing their illness. But the turning remained dormant until their coming of age.

  No forms of sedation worked to calm the patients once they’d turned. They never slept, never ate, only howled insanely. The timeline for the turning was usually the same. After about five days they would lose most of their hair and teeth. Their eyes would grow a deep shade of purple, though they would be completely blind.

  The one thing that every subject showed was increased sensitivity to hearing, as well as communicating somehow with the others who had also turned. Even though they weren’t located in the same rooms, all of those who’d turned seemed to notice the others. We had to put down the subjects once they started to grow claws since it became too dangerous to hold them.

  That was a month before the outbreak. A whole month to have done something. Maybe I could have destroyed the samples or the “cure”. But the firm, and in particular, the board, which my father headed, refused to bomb the whole trials because of “some unfortunate incidents”. I contemplated firebombing the entire office and work labs, but the samples had been moved and duplicated at several installations. I had wasted too much time deciding what to do.

  Snapping back to reality, I passed by an opening to my left. A blue glow pulsated with energy, a dying energy. I looked around but nothing stirred from the shadows, and only the constant whining of the reactor hummed in the air. The blue light flickered for a moment, returning my eyesight to the object at hand. Through double paneled, bulletproof and moisture-resistance glass, the reactor sat within a confined room.

  “Ok…” I said out loud.

  The first dilemma hit me. I had no idea how to fix the thing. I didn’t design it. I was no engineer. I may have fabricated the five thousand barrier, the Alaco Cure, among other things, but never this. A man named Phillips designed the core, and the sphere I’d used to travel through the barrier. He was the mind behind this installation.

  The brilliance of the core was that it was the most powerful new energy source ever conceived. Comparable to a tesla coil, but just much more effective. It motorized electrical devices wirelessly, evident as it powered the timer all the way from here. Much like ideas of Nikola Tesla, who had experimented with science like this, Phillips actually had a working version about a year before all of this happened. The prototype was still in the testing phase, but nothing else could be used and so we’d switched on this prototype power source. It should still have twenty-eight more years to go, but it was dying right in front of my eyes. I hadn’t the faintest clue where to begin.

  I ran around the walls and came to the door that led to the sealed core room. The power source wasn’t radioactive, nor was it dangerous really, but Phillips wanted it separated from the environment of a busy science center.

  I unlocked the heavy metal door and swung it open, entering the vault. It was so… simple. A plastic stand held the device that almost resembled the sphere I had carried around. But this was much larger. Instead of etching, it had dimples like a golf ball, and it glowed with a much darker blue than my sphere. Also near the top of the orb was a clear cut-away that allowed me to look inside. The inside of the sphere was also incredibly simple. It looked like a liquid, along with a few other electronics, but not much else.

  It smelled sterile but not hot. The orb wasn’t burning or anything. I stu
died it as I came closer, trying to think of something, anything, to understand what my next move was.

  Then as if answering my question, several dark walkers entered the room. I only stared at them through the glass, not willing to hide anymore. What was the point? The barrier was going to fall with the power failure. Apparently that was what happened at all the other installations.

  I thought of Olivia, who was the only real family I’d ever had. Even my family, my real family, wasn’t really there. Dad was consumed with the business, and mom had died of cancer when I was very young. I had no siblings. Now Olivia was gone, most likely killed because of me. The virus may have taken all of Olivia’s family away. In retrospect, I’d killed all of her siblings, her parents, and anyone she’d cared about. She may have been immune to the initial outbreak of the virus, but it would have remained dormant in her system until twenty-six, when she would most likely turn.

  “It’s about time…” A voice escaped from the corner of the room. I turned, not worrying about the creatures. Instead I refocused on the sound that suddenly burst into existence. It was a voice so familiar yet so foreign. A body in the corner formed whole and approached, the blue hue of the power source giving light to a face I thought I’d never see: my own.

  Right there in front of my eyes, I was staring at myself. He was smiling ear to ear. It wasn’t a reflection. I didn’t think it was my imagination. If it was insomnia, it was a damn good hallucination.

  “You fucking failure,” he said. A frown reformed from the once cruel smile and dictated the direction he was going. He wore the same clothing I did, styled his hair the same way. It was like I was looking into a mirror. It was definitely, me.

  “You know, the point that the universe could conjure up someone like you is an absolute mystery. Have you even fathomed what you brought to this world? Extermination? Annihilation? Genocide?” he snarled.

  “It wasn’t meant to…” I pleaded.

  “Your fabled cure meant to do what exactly? Kill every last person or turn them into something inhuman? Well congratulations, because that’s what happened. You see that?” He pointed at the power source. “So much for lasting forever, right? Just another fuck-up in a long line of fuck-ups! The barrier… what a ridiculous notion; what an idiotic idea.”

  He snarled again. He sauntered over and closed the heavy metal door. One of the creatures crashed against the door and roared in protest, which caused more screams that seemed to shake the double-paneled glass.

  “You’re not getting off that easy. No sir, not by a long shot. You don’t deserve to be ripped to pieces,” he explained.

  “I know,” I said. I didn’t have the heart to argue. It was all true. The world deserved to see me die a worse, longer death. Getting shredded from head to toe with claws would only take a few moments. My suffering should last much longer.

  “Do you? I mean, do you really understand?” He returned to stand in front of me, eyes squinting, as if trying to read me. “Jack and Susan… dead. Olivia? She’s gone. But that doesn’t even remotely compare to destroying an entire planet. All of humanity. All of it. Completely gone, forever dead. Because. Of. You,” he said, pressing a finger into my chest.

  I felt the pressure. He was surely no ghost or figment of my imagination. He was as real as it gets. “What a disgrace,” he said and shook his head.

  Rage filled my stomach at the sound of Olivia’s name. I lashed out, striking him squarely on the jaw. His head bent back but he smiled off the blow.

  “That’s what you needed years ago, a little balls. Could’ve destroyed those samples before they were ever moved. Of course, you failed at that too. Pathetic,” he said and wiped a sleeve across his bloodied mouth. He moved over to the core again and rested a palm on it, bowing his head gravely as he changed his attitude.

  “It’s not the point that the cure didn’t work. It’s not the point that you couldn’t figure out the virus mutation. It’s the point that you were willing to give up in the end,” he explained. “Instead of thinking about jumping from a building, you should have been down in the labs working. Trying. Failing. And picking up yourself all over again. You shouldn’t even think about giving up now, even if the clock strikes zero. You are the only one with enough… intelligence to break this curse. Well, at least, you were.”

  “I, I, just…” the words didn’t come. I was stunned, shocked, loathing myself. He spoke the truth. The virus existed because of me, but could have stopped if I’d acted quicker. It could’ve been contained or even destroyed. But I didn’t do either of those, and because of that everybody was going to suffer, had suffered and died, only a few left to endure this world I’d created.

  “It doesn’t matter much, I guess,” he said. “You already gave up long ago. I really hope it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch. I hope it isn’t easy. You deserve every bit of what’s about to happen.”

  He frowned once more before fading from sight. It left me ill, reeling backwards. All the while the constant screaming outside reminded me that soon enough I would be one of them.

  A lurch in my chest sent me curling up on my knees, feeling a pain like I was being invisibly stabbed through the lungs. My heart crushed beneath an unseen weight, and my eyes were on fire. I crashed to the floor, no longer able to stand. The turning had begun, and the last image I saw was the door flying open and the creatures scrambling into the room.

  Chapter 25: The Turning

  “Whhhhooooooo issssss it?” a voice questioned.

  A million voices responded.

  I woke up. The creatures hovered over me but didn’t attack. My eyes were still on fire, but otherwise I felt ok. Gathering to my feet, I backed up while keeping my attention on the closest one. But it was the voices that cascaded through my head, reverberating off the walls of my mind. I covered my ears but the shrieks didn’t dampen or waiver. Nothing was right.

  With the fiery sensation in my eyes, I wondered if I was on the course of losing my eyesight. But my vision was fine. It was actually better. Objects appeared sharper while the contrast was crisper. It felt like I could see everything. I looked through the glass panel and zoomed in the instruments of the computer consoles in the other room opposite of this one. On the back of the monitor was a sticker with the build date of the equipment. Lettering that should have been too small was clearly visible.

  My attention returned to the three others in the room. They watched in silent focus, clearly unable to understand what had happened to the unturned who was so recently here. I stared at the one closest to me. It was six feet tall even with a curved spine, its skin pure white. It growled in my direction but didn’t move as it continued to search the room.

  “Whhhheeereeee didddddd itttttt goooo?” it spoke. The creature didn’t speak. Instead it somehow spoke in my mind. And a thousand voices answered, though I managed to push those aside.

  “Can you hear me?” I asked out loud. Every creature jumped and howled as the sudden noise assaulted their heightened senses. This particular sound went against every instinct they possessed, and this new, freshly-turned human was so very different than the others.

  “Whaattt doooessss it saaayyy?” the creature responded. Again a million voices answered, though I tried to focus on the one.

  “Can you understand me?” I didn’t voice the question, only thought it. The creature spun on its heels. This time the many voices didn’t come calling. Only a few hundred questioned what the new voice had asked.

  This had to be part of the turning process, to be able to communicate like this. Somehow we were now linked. Though for whatever reason, I hadn’t slipped into the darkness like they had. I caught my reflection off the glass panels. It appeared that the physical transformation hadn’t taken place.

  My hands remained the same. No cracked skin was noticeable. No markings on my arms. Somehow, I remained whole. I pulled at the skin on the back of my hand and it snapped back in place. Physically, I seemed to be the same, though my eyes still felt inflamed.


  I left the room feeling utterly different, yet strangely intact. The creatures followed. I couldn’t remember anyone that hadn’t physically as well as mentally turned. In all the trials, tests, experiments, simulations, and anything else we tried, the certainty of the virus taking over and rewriting the genome was one hundred percent if the person wasn’t immune.

  I wasn’t immune, yet I remained the same individual. I couldn’t tell if this was God playing an awful trick or if he was giving me a second chance. Was this the terrible fate the other me spoke of, wishing the ultimate evil upon the one who caused the downfall of society? Or was it just another hiccup in my long line of failures?

  I strode down the hallway, the blue hue continuing to flicker with life. But it was fading. The power source could hopefully run for a few more days. Or at least, a few hours. Keeping the barrier intact until I could figure out what to do was the key. How to deal with this new beginning was my target.

  Coming to the stairs, I climbed up, leaving the creatures to fend for themselves. I needed to talk to Vincent, to unravel what happened, to make sense of this mess. As I climbed I continued to hear the mass of voices. Nothing sounded even remotely human. It reminded me of how animals communicated. Groans, moans, and screams came through more often than spoken words. I was able to decipher their language immediately upon turning. Screams were a language all their own.

  I ran down the corridor to the ladder that would lead up, wondering what I should do. When I reached the top of the ladder I pounded on the trapdoor, hoping Vincent was close by.

  “Just a second, Jackson,” Vincent said, his voice muffled. Soon enough the trapdoor lifted and I escaped back into the room. I spotted a monitor showing the feed from a camera that pointed at the timer downtown. It flashed with zeroes.