Acidalia 10

Acidalia X
By: Amanda D.

Monday July 31 10:15am EDT:

Home! What a wonderful word. Just the sound of it was enough to send a small shiver through her. If there was a word that ever sounded as remotely as comforting, she had never heard it. Even now, all these weeks later, her eyes still welled up with tears at the memory of seeing her high rise apartment building that bright, sunny, cloudless Wednesday afternoon in mid July.

Her trip across the city had seemed at times like it was never going to end, but here she was at last.

Overwhelmed by the joy of being back in familiar territory, she had nearly sprinted into the building's lobby. The sun shimmering off the darkly tinted glass of the lobby door made her squint, as she climbed the three steps that lead to it. Pulling it open with a smile a mile wide plastered on her face she looked over at Mathew, the tall, bald, black hulk of a door man, sitting stoically behind his desk.

His rough, stone like features immediately turned to a look of disdain, as his eyes landed on her disheveled, blood stained and food splattered form. “May I help you … miss?” he asked cautiously as Rebecca walked up to the desk.

McTavish opened her mouth to respond. Before a sound came out, a mental picture of his response to her saying; “Hi Mathew, how are you today? It’s me, Mr. McTavish from penthouse two. I seem to have misplaced my keys. Any chance you could bring me up and let me in?” began to form in her mind and the picture wasn’t a pretty one either. It kept switching from him laughing hysterically to the doorman grabbing her by the collar and the waistband and tossing her out the door.

No, that approach definitely wasn’t going to work. She stood there in front of his small but immaculately kept wood topped desk silently watching him grow more and more impatient as she wracked her brain trying to think of something to say that would have him escorting her to the door two seconds after it came out of her mouth.

“Miss? Is there something I can help you with?” Mathew had asked again, unable, of perhaps unwilling to hide his annoyance with her lack of response to his question.

Rebecca knew the bums rush coming, very soon. The huge building employee stood up and began to round the desk. Seeing her time was completely up, Rebecca blurted out “I’d like to speak with Marie Martinez please.”

The question stopped Mathew in his rather large tracks. She could see him running through his mental Rolodex of the buildings residents trying to place the name.

Unknown to most of the buildings residents was that among the obvious physical reasons for hiring Mathew to guard against unwanted visitors, the property’s owner had chosen him for his uncanny ability to recall every detail of anything he read or experienced. It was quite a handy talent for someone in his profession and one that would cause Rebecca a lot of problems down the line.

“Mr. McTavish's house keeper?” he finally spouted out. “May I ask what you want to see her about?”

“It … it’s a personal matter," Rebecca said. Then, a bit more confidently she added, “Please call up to her and tell her that I have a message from Mr. McTavish please.”

“Why don’t you just leave the message here with me and I’ll see she gets it," the giant guard asked, not believing that a penthouse resident would have someone that looked the way Rebecca did delivering any kind of message to his house staff. Forget the fact no one had seen Mr. McTavish in days.

Rebecca understood the even though Mathew had posed it as a question, his statement was more along the lines of an order. Not wanting to get into a confrontation with the huge black man but desperate to talk to Marie she told him “I can’t. I have explicit instructions to deliver the message to Marie personally.”

“Instructions from Mr. McTavish I assume?” Mathew asked in a bit of a mocking tone. He came around the front of his desk and leaned against it. Arms folded and looking as intimidating as he could, he stared a hole into Rebecca, taking in every stain, every wrinkle, every bit of food stuck in her hair. He was convinced that she was some sort of street person here for no good purpose.

“I’m sorry miss…”

“Yes. Instructions from McTaa…” she began to say but let it die. There was no way he was buying what she was selling. She considered telling she was Ronald’s niece but realized that wasn’t going to fly either. She stood there dumbfounded, with no idea of how to get him to let her up into the house.

“Yes…anyhow miss, I’m going to have to insist that you leave a message and a number for Marie to get a hold of you at with me. You can trust me. I’ll see she gets it right away.”

Rebecca felt a rage building up inside of her, but it was an impotent one and she knew it. Mathew was just doing what he was paid to do, keep the riff-raff out of the building. While it infuriated her to admit it, she knew at the moment that if their places were reversed, she wouldn’t have let her into the building either.

Swallowing her anger -- and a good amount of pride along side of it -- she cleared her throat and asked for a piece of paper and a pen. Mathew reached behind him and produced the requested items. He watched her intently as she wrote one word on the paper then handed it back to him folded up.

Mathew unfolded the paper and read it. “Phoenix? That’s the whole message? No phone number or anything so she can get back to you?” he asked.

As corny as it sounded that was the code word he had worked out with both Marie and Charles so that they would know it was him in case anything had gone wrong and they needed proof he was who he claimed to be. At the time it had seemed unnecessary, even a bit silly to be completely honest but now it might just be the key to her salvation.

‘Does it look like I have access to a cell phone?’ she thought sarcastically but thought better of saying out loud. “Yes she’ll know what it means," Rebecca told him annoyed that he had looked at the note to begin with.

“Ok. I’ll make sure she gets it. Now I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Leave? But you haven’t given her the message yet. Why should I have to leave? She’s going to want to come see me once she gets it.”

Mathew rolled his eyes and stepped towards her. Putting a massive paw on her slim shoulder he said “I’ve asked you nicely to leave. Now if you don’t turn your ass around and walk out that door right this second, I’m going to toss you over my shoulder and carry you out. The choice is all yours.”

“But…” she began to protest again, but the serious look on his face made her realize there would be no persuading him. She would just have to hope he delivered her message as promised. In the mean time she would try to scrounge up enough change to call the penthouse from a pay phone.

It took her nearly an hour to scrape up the mere seventy five cents the pay phone required. Her circumstances were giving her a real taste of how the other side lived. Like most city dwellers, as Ronald, she had done everything she could to avoid the homeless and panhandlers that seemed to lurk around every corner. Like most she would go as far as crossing the street to avoid an encounter if she had thought it would help.

Now that she looked, and most likely smelled, like one of the street people that she had shied away from all her life, Rebecca found herself burning with shame over the life long defensive behavior. If she ever got out of this, she swore her first check would be written out to one of the many charities that worked with the homeless and the destitute.

After finally securing the money, along with a handful of suggestions on how she could earn it if she was so inclined (she wasn’t), McTavish went in search of a pay phone. This was a second issue she had never considered. The overwhelming abundance of cell phones, now, was causing the corner pay phone to become an extinct species, even here in the largest city in America. She wound up having to walk almost three blocks before finding one and another two before finding one in working order.

Dropping the required coins into the slot she dialed Ronald’s home phone number from memory. She had noticed that since her awakening that her memory seemed much sharper than it had in the last few years. Before her resurrection, she had been having issues with remembering numbers, addresses, even people's faces sometimes, but now things were crystal clear.

On the third ring Charles answered “McTavish residence, Charles speaking.”

“Charles? Oh thank god. Charles it’s me, Ronald.”

“Is it now? Your voice doesn’t sound like Mr. McTavish's?”

“Yeah, you don’t know the half of it. My voice and just about everything else has changed, but it’s still me. At least I think it is.”

“I see. If you are Mr. McTavish, then I believe you should have a way to prove yourself.”

“Yes, of course. Phoenix is the code word we arranged," Rebecca said excitedly.

“Yes, sir. That is the word we decided on. Or should I be saying miss now?”

“We’ll figure that out later Charles, right now I need your help getting upstairs. I was in the lobby an hour or so ago, and Mathew is doing his job overly well today. Not only wouldn’t he let me upstairs, he wouldn’t even call you or Marie for me," she said, a bit surprised by the odd pout in her voice.

“Are you down there now? I’ll come get you….”

“No. He tossed me out.”

“He did? Without so much as even calling us to verify your story? I’ll have to make sure he is spoken to about that one. However, first things first; let’s get you home. What’s your location? I’ll have Davies come pick you up and escort you up the garage elevator.”

“I’m at a pay phone about four blocks south of the apartment. In front of…” Rebecca looked over her shoulder to see the name of the store behind her. Smiling at the name she told him “the Hip Hop Smoke Shop at the corner of 28th Street and 7th Avenue.”

“28th and 7th,got it. I’ll have Davies there in about fifteen minutes to pick you up.”

"Thank you, Charles. I can’t tell you … how close to giving up … hope I’ve come today,” Rebecca told him, as tears of relief began to stream down her cheeks.

“No need to thank me, sir … err … I mean miss. Davies will be there shortly, and then we’ll get you home.”

Rebecca gave Charles a quick description of her new look and what she was wearing to pass on to Davies so he would know what to look for when he arrived. She reluctantly hung up the phone and waited impatiently for the car to arrive.

Though she knew it wasn’t, the wait seemed to stretch on for hours and hours as Rebecca tried to blend in with the other city dwellers that moved hurriedly in both directions on the side walk. She kept her face turned toward the store window in an effort to hide the huge stains on the front of her shirt. As she looked and even smiled at a few of the items on display, she continually checked over her shoulder for the approaching car.

Finally, she spotted Ronald’s white and blue stretched out Lincoln Town Car as it pulled up at the corner in front of where she waited. Davies short stubby form popped up out of the driver door. Looking right at Rebecca he said “Mr. McTavish?”

“I don’t think mister is going to work anymore to be honest, but yes, it’s me,” she told him with a huge grin plastered on her face.

Davies hurried around the car as quickly as his portly body could and opened the rear passenger’s door for Rebecca. “It so good to see you again sir … I mean miss.”

“Thank you Davies. It’s good to see you again too. And don’t worry about what to call me, it’s going to take us all quite some time to get used to all this.”

“You're not kidding on that one. If Charles hadn’t told me what to look for I never would have recognized you that’s for sure.” he replied tipping his hat at her. Without thinking Davies took her hand and helped the new woman into the back seat. Once she was situated, he bolted back around the car and hopped in behind the wheel.

Rebecca smiled as she settled into the luxurious interior of the spacious rear seat. She stretched out across the sofa sized cushions, enjoying the softness of the leather like never before. After everything she had been through since her awakening, any luxury felt a thousand times as nice as it ever had before. She had certainly learned a hard lesson of how the other half lived and was determined to never to forget what it felt like. From now on, she was going to do everything she could to make life easier for those forced to live on the hard streets of the city.

Though the ride back to the apartment was relatively short, it seemed to have taken an eternity. Rebecca remembered being only vaguely aware of the passing sites of the city as she stared out the rear window, completely lost in her own thoughts of relief and joy. The entire trip back to where she had lived as Ronald, though in reality only a few hours in duration, had seemed to take a lifetime. There was more than one moment that she had believed that she was never going to see the people that she loved again. Now, sitting in the back of the car as Davies expertly backed the large car into its assigned spot, the new woman felt tears of happiness rolling steadily down her cheeks.

‘Home at last!’ she thought with a large grin plastered to her face as Davies helped her out of the Lincoln.

“It’s good to be home isn’t it si … err … miss?” Davies asked in recognition of Rebecca’s grin.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how nice it is,” she replied feeling too choked up to say more.

The chauffeur gently put a hand on her elbow, and escorted Rebecca over to the elevator at the rear of the underground parking facility, trying his hardest to ignore the foul way she smelled.

Rebecca glanced over at him, catching him wrinkling his nose. “I think my first order of business when I get upstairs will be a bath. A long hot one. Mmm … God that sounds like heaven.”

To his credit, Davies simply smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of her comment.

The two of them made idle chit chat, though with Davies standing as far away as politeness would allow, for the rest of the time it took for the elevator to arrive. McTavish couldn’t remember the last time talking about the weather had made her so happy.

Once the doors opened, Davies stood aside and allowed Rebecca to step in first. Stepping inside Davies put the key into the penthouse slot and turned it. As the doors began to close McTavish caught a glimpse of a police car entering the garage, but at that time she had been too overwhelmed with the joy of being home to give it any real thought.

As the doors reopened on the top floor, Rebecca felt as if she would faint. Davies just happened to look over at her as she began to swoon and put a supportive hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re home now, miss. Everything is going to be fine. Don’t even worry a bit.”

Rebecca put her hand over his and smiled at him saying “From your mouth to Gods ears.” as they stepped out.

They walked down the short hallway to the apartment’s door. Rebecca felt like a little kid staring at pile of gifts on Christmas morning as she stared at the ornate carved white door while she waited for the for Davies to open it.

Swinging the door open, Davies motioned for Rebecca to enter. As she stepped in she found her entire domestic staff standing in the small entrance way waiting for her. A round of smiles, like silent applause, burst upon everyone’s face in unison.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to present you, Miss Rebecca.” she heard Davies saying from behind her.

The next few minutes were filled with heartfelt hellos and tears of joy from both Rebecca and her faithful house staff. Over the last few years these people had become more like her family than most of her blood relations were. Being back with them filled her heart with boundless joy.

After the dust settled Charles turned to the house maid and asked “Marie? Would you take Miss Rebecca upstairs and prepare her a bath. After she’s settled in the tub I need you to get her some fresh clothing to change into. While you do that I’ll have Gladys prepare some dinner for her.”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure. Miss if you’ll come with me?” Marie said to Rebecca taking her by the hand. Rebecca allowed herself to be led down the hallway and up the stairs to the large master bedroom.

Once inside Marie left McTavish standing by the bed while she walked into the adjoining bathroom and started the tub. With the water running Marie returned saying “Let’s get those smelly, disgusting clothes off of you. What did you have to do, crawl through a sewer?”

Rebecca smiled at the way the house keeper wrinkled her nose but gave no response. She allowed Marie to strip her down while trying not to blush too badly.

“Well I’m officially jealous.” Marie stated with a small smirk on her face as she looked of Rebecca’s new body. “Do you think they could help me if I could afford it too?” she joked.

Rebecca began to smile but the memory of what she had gone through hit her like a slap. Her face went stone cold serious and her eyes began to mist up.

Seeing the sudden change in mood on her mistresses face the short dark haired house keeper asked “Miss? Are … are you alright? Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean anything.”

“No … not at all. It’s just … they … they’re dead. The doctors, the other patients, everyone … all of them … just dead.”

“Dead? Dead how? By who?” Marie asked confused.

“I … I don’t know who did it. I just … when I woke up … there was all this … blood everywhere…and bullet holes in all the walls … Oh god! It was hor … horrible.” Rebecca told her in a far away voice. “They ….”

Rebecca couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. A lump the size of Everest had suddenly formed in her throat choking off all attempts to speak about what she had seen and the dread she had felt as she made her way through the clinics halls.

Unable to articulate what it had been like, Rebecca gazed up at Marie with a look of hopelessness and sorrow etched in her face that nearly broke the house keeper’s heart. “Oh Miss …” Marie said as she gathered Rebecca to her and hugged her tightly.

A river of tears flowed freely as the emotional weight of everything she had come through came crashing down on the exhausted new woman all at once. Marie held her tightly, whispering encouragements for her mistress to let it all out as she comforted the lady of the house while waiting for the storm of emotion to pass.

In her entire life Rebecca didn’t remember ever having cried so hard for so long, but it had a cathartic effect on her. The longer it went on, the better she began to feel. It was almost as if a tremendous pressure was being relieved little by little with each tear that fell from her eyes.

As the flow began to abate, Marie told her soothingly “Everything will be alright now. You’re back at home and safe. No one can hurt you here now.”

“I … know … it’s just ….”

“Shhh. Everything will be fine … I promise. Now why don’t you finish getting yourself undressed, and I’ll check on your bath.”

“O … okay. Th … thank you Marie ….”

“There’s no need for thanks, miss. It was the very least I could do for you. If it wasn’t for you and your generosity, I don’t know where my family would be now.” Marie told her, and then disappeared into the bathroom leaving the still sobbing new woman alone.

She didn’t want to be alone. She had been alone way too much over the last day or so and now she craved human company. However she needed a bit of time to try regain her composure. Though Rebecca understood that she had needed to release all the days sorrow, it still bothered her on some level that she had lost such complete control in front of Marie.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Rebecca reached for a tissue from the box on the dresser to dry her eye with. Catching her reflection in the mirror as she did, the new woman saw her new face clearly for the first time since her awakening.

She was a disgusting mess. Her face was grimy, tear streaked and caked with dirt or another substance. What that might be was something that she didn’t want to consider.

Moving on, Rebecca looked at her hands. The backs were covered with some kind of indistinguishable filth that had even managed to get under her finger nails. God only knows what was stuck in the tangled mop of oily looking hair that hung limply from her head. It was enough to make her breakfast want to make a repeat appearance.

However, it was what she saw underneath that had caught her attention. It was the vaguest hint of beauty she saw waiting to be exposed that held her transfixed. She stared at woman in the reflection for several seconds unable to tear herself away, until she caught a whiff of the shirt she wore.

The foul stench made her crinkle her nose in disgust. Without delay she tore it off and then finished stripping.

The bath was pure heaven. The feel of the hot water on her new soft skin was unlike anything she had ever experienced. That, coupled with the scent of the bath oils Marie had poured into the water, was intoxicating. It just made everything, all her worries and problems, disappear for the moment.

Once the incredibly soothing and unintentionally but unbelievably erotic bath was done, Rebecca returned to her bed room to find a white blouse and a pair of dark slacks neatly laid out on the bed. She looked quizzically at the clothes for a few seconds and then over at Marie, who had been waiting patiently for her.

“What’s with the clothes?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s with them? Who are they for?”

“They’re for you. Who else would they be for?” Marie said rolling her eyes. Walking over to the bed and picking up the slacks she continued “I thought pants would be better for you than a dress.”

“A dress? I can’t wear dre …” Rebecca began but suddenly stopped herself and she burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well let’s just say I’ve a lot to get used to and leave it at that.” Rebecca replied between giggles.

Rebecca picked up the silky white bra like it was going to bite her.

Marie watched bemused, as she turned it this way and that trying to figure out how to put it on, nearly breaking a sweat from the effort of trying not to laugh at her employer.

“Do you need some help with that?” she finally asked taking the twisted piece of material out of Rebecca’s hand before she could rip it.

“You know I’ve taken dozens of these off of women, but I can’t say I’ve ever tried to put one on.” The new woman said embarrassedly as she gratefully accepted the house keeper’s help.

For the next half hour, Marie gave Rebecca a crash course on being a woman. Everything from how to pick out clothes, which Marie agreed to help her with until she got the hang of it, to applying makeup, again Marie would help her, to what it felt like when your time of the month arrived was discussed.

By the time she was dressed, Rebecca was sure of two things. First that she would have been lost if not for the small Latino woman’s help, and secondly that Marie was going to be receiving a very large raise as soon as she got a hold of the accountant that handled the domestic staff’s pay roll.

With Marie finished, Rebecca got up and took a look in the mirror to check out the results of all their, well mostly Marie’s, hard work and effort.

McTavish could hardly believe the person that stared back from the mirror was her. The small hint of beauty she had seen earlier was now in full bloom. The new woman smiled as she turned left then right trying to see her new body from all angles.

“Marie, you’re a miracle worker.” she exclaimed.

“Thank you misses, but I didn’t do anything but bring out what was already there. Like I said before, I’m totally jealous.”

Rebecca smiled at the compliment. “Well …” A knock on the door interrupted her.

“Excuse me, miss.”

“Yes, Charles?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but there is a pair of police officers downstairs asking to speak with Mr. McTavish.”

McTavish felt herself go a bit pale. “Did … did they say what they wanted me for?”

“No, miss. They only said that they wish to speak with Mr. McTavish. They didn’t say why when I asked, only that they wanted to discuss a case they were working on with you.”

Rebecca stood silently, desperately trying to think of a reason to have Charles send the officer away. Much to her consternation, nothing that would raise questions she didn’t want to answer at the moment would come to mind.

“Miss? Should I tell the officer that you’re not here?”

“No!” she snapped. Then, after a moment she continued with a bit more control, “No don’t do that. Just go down stairs and explain to them that Ronald isn’t here right now. Then let him know that his niece, being me, will be down in a minute to talk to them.”

“Yes, miss.” Charles acknowledged as he left the room.

“Are you ok?” Marie asked concerned over the look of dread that grew over Rebecca’s face after Charles left the room.

“Yes … I’m fine. C … Could you give me a moment please?”

“Certainly.” Marie replied worriedly. Despite her concerns she did as requested and walked out of the room.

Rebecca sat down on the end of the bed and took a deep worried breath. She was reasonably sure that no one had seen her leave the restaurant this morning, but that wasn’t one hundred percent. She tried desperately to think of some kind of alibi if she needed one, but her nervousness caused her to come up blank.

Rebecca acutely aware of every second that ticked off the clock, as she sat trying to think of some kind of alibi that wouldn’t require the house staff to lie by backing it up her up. She knew she needed to get down stairs and talk with the cops before they started to think she was avoiding them, but dread and indecision kept her rooted in place.

Eventually a knock on the bed room door forced her hand. “Miss? Is everything alright? The officers are still waiting for you,” she heard Charles say through the door.

“Yes, Charles, I’m coming right now.” Rebecca replied forcing herself up and off the bed.

The new woman took one last quick glance in the mirror. There was only enough of a trace of Ronald left in the face that looked back that anyone would believe they were relatives. That, coupled with how different she looked now that she was clean, put her fear to rest a bit. If someone had seen her, she just might look different enough now that they wouldn’t be able to identify her. With her nerves calmed a bit, Rebecca put her best smile on and headed for the door.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long, officers,” she said entering the spacious living room. Rebecca extended her hand and, remembering to keep her grip light and lady like shook each of the policeman’s hands. “I’m Rebecca McTavish, Ronald’s niece. What can I do for you today?”

The tall light brown skinned officer with graying temples shook Rebecca’s hand lightly. “I’m Detective Antonio Ramirez, this is my partner Sergeant Harold Green” he began. “We were hoping to speak with Mr. McTavish.

“Yes, that’s what Charles said too, but unfortunately my uncle isn’t here right now. May I ask what it is you wanted to discuss with him?”

“There was an incident over in Harlem this morning that we hoped Mr. McTavish might be able to give us some information on.”

Rebecca, relying on her old acting skills set her face with a look of mild amusement and asked “Incident? What kind of incident would Ronald McTavish be able to give you information on in Harlem of all places?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, Miss. Do you know when Mr. McTavish will be home?”

“He’s out of the country right now, I’m afraid.” Rebecca heard herself answer automatically then cringed internally for coming up with such an easily disproved cover story.

“How long has he been gone?” Detective Green asked in a voice dripping with skepticism.

“He left last Friday,” she replied, knowing Green didn’t believe a word of what she said, but she was stuck with the story so she needed to play it out until the end.

“And what country is he visiting?”

“He’s in Scotland, seeing his family. We have a whole hoard of relatives over there and uncle wanted to pay them a visit.”

Rebecca mentally slapped herself for babbling. ‘Stop it. They’re going to see how nervous you are if you cut the shit! Remember, short answers…short!’ she thought to herself trying to maintain her composure.

“With all the travel restrictions how did he manage that? If I had cousins outside the country I doubt they’d let me in to see them.” Ramirez questioned suspiciously.

“That’s because you’re not Ronald McTavish. You have to understand, my uncle is not only quite well to do but he’s also incredible determined to get what he wants. Add to the top of those traits the fact that he’s been diagnosed with terminal cancer and desperately he wanted to see his family one last time. Believe me when I say that nothing was going to stop him from going. Not you, not any silly international ban on flights, nothing.”

“Yes I’m sure a man in his position, with all his resources would find away. Did I ask you when you expect him to return already?”

Stumped! Rebecca looked at the detective blankly for a moment, wondering how to answer. She didn’t want to give a specific day for two reasons. First she simply didn’t want the police coming back here again. Secondly she couldn’t remember if she had already given him an answer.

“I believe the Master is expected home on the 15th.” she heard a voice say from behind her just as she was opening her mouth. Looking over her shoulder she spied Charles standing in the entrance way to the living room. Rebecca smiled at him in a quiet thank you for the save.

“Mr. McTavish left last Friday on his private jet with special travel permission from the British Prime Minister’s office. As Miss McTavish already explained to you he was not here today so it is very doubtful he will be of any use to your investigation or whatever. Now unless you gentlemen have something else you want to know I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Charles informed the two detectives.

“As it happens I do have one last thing to ask.” Ramirez said looking at the butler out of the corner of his eye. “Ms. McTavish can you tell me where you were this morning?”

“Me? What does it matter what I was doing?” Rebecca asked trying to not sound nervous but pretty sure she had failed miserably.

“Just curious. Several witnesses claim they saw a woman running up 17th avenue shortly after the incident we want to talk to Mr. McTavish about. You look a bit like the description then gave so I just wanted to know if you were in the area or not. So I ask you again, where were you this morning?”

“She was here with us.” Charles chimed in.

“Hmm… She was here? In this apartment? All morning long? She didn’t leave to go to the corner and pick up the paper or anything? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes. She has been here in this apartment since she woke up this morning and has not gone outside.” Charles replied.

“Is that your story to miss?”

Rebecca hesitated then answered “Yes. I’ve been here all day so far.”

“You know that’s funny cause the guard down stairs claimed to have seen a woman that looks remarkably like you down in the lobby wearing filthy clothes down in the lobby. This mystery woman, who wasn’t you but looked a lot like you, was demanding to see McTavish’s’ house keeper this morning. Hell, she even left him a note to give to her. Do you know anything about that?”

“How would I know anything about it if I was up here all day?” Rebecca asked trying not to come off as being overly defensive.

The two cops looked at her dubiously. “So if we were to ask you to come down stairs with us, that security guy would tell us that the woman he met this morning isn’t you also right?”

“I…I can’t see how he’d be able to say anything else since I’ve been up here all day. Just like we’ve been telling you.”

“Would you be willing to come down there with us?”

“I…uhh…I” Rebecca stuttered.

“I believe that Mathew has gone home already. He gets off at 3pm, so even if she went down there with you he would be gone by now.” Charles chimed in saving Rebecca one more time.

‘I’m going to give him the biggest raise,’ she thought gratefully to herself.

“Ok then…” Green said putting an end to the discussion. Digging into his suit jackets pocket he pulled out a small slip or paper and handed it to McTavish “This is my card if you would have Mr. McTavish call us as soon as he returns I would appreciate it.”

“I certainly will.” Rebecca replied.

“Thank you. Oh and Ms. McTavish, we're going to have to insist that you don’t leave the city. I think we’ll be talking with you again real soon. Have a nice day.” Ramirez said tipping his hat as he turned and strode purposefully towards the door.

After the cops left Rebecca looked over at Charles and said “Thank you for your help, but I’m afraid that they are going to find out that we both lied to them in pretty short order.”

“Yes miss, I’m sure they will but there didn’t seem to be any other way to get them to leave.”

“True.”

“May I ask what incident they were talking about?”

Rebecca said nothing for a moment as she considered how much of the truth to tell her faithful butler. As much as she wanted to spill everything, she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him. She burned with shame over the fact that she wasn’t holding out to protect him or anything that noble. No she didn’t want to tell him because that would make her admit to herself that she really did kill the restaurant owner. It was better for her mental health to remain in self denial.

“I…I really have no idea Charles. Perhaps I was seen by someone when I left the clinic.”

“Hmmm.” Charles said in reply. After am moment he continued “Either way they will be returning, most likely sooner rather than later, once they discover our ruse. The question now becomes what shall we do when they return?”

“I wish I knew.” Rebecca replied glumly but grateful Charles had decided to not to call her bluff even though she knew he didn’t believe her.

“I suggest you consider how you want to deal with the police when they return. In the mean time however I have some duties I need to attend to.”

“Yes take care of what you need to by all means…and Charles?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re entirely welcome miss.” he replied as he left the room, leaving Rebecca to consider what to do next.

*******

Much to everyone’s surprise, it took the detectives a full two days to return to the McTavish residence.

From inside the apartment Charles heard a series of hard knocks on the door and someone shout “Open the door! This is the New York Police Department!”

Doing as instructed the butler opened up and allowed Detective Green to enter along with tow uniformed officers. “Where is she?” Green demands in a nasally sound voice.

“Where is who, detective?” Charles asked as he noticed the bright flush to the policeman’s face.

“Don’t play stupid with me, bud, I’m in no mood! Where’s McTavish’s’ so-called niece?”

“Rebecca is out with the house keeper Marie doing some shopping. Can I ask what you what this is all about?”

“You want to know what this is about. I’ll god damn tell you what this is about! That bitch isn’t just a liar she's fucken infected! And you knew it too! But you let me and my partner in here and gave us your bull shit story about her being the niece. Well now my fucken partners in the hospital…probably on his way to quarantine and I’m feeling pretty shitty myself! So don’t fuck with me cause I’ve got half a mind to shoot you right where you stand! Tell me where she is!”

“Detective I already told you…”

“And I don’t believe you! I know she’s here. McTavish!! Get your ass down here…Now!”

“Detective Green! I already told you she isn’t here. She’s out shopping so yelling for her isn’t going to make her magically appear. I can see your upset but acting like this isn’t going to change the fact the she out.”

Taking a deep breath Green mentally counted to ten then said “Look Charlie…”

“Charles.”

“Fine Charles then.’ He said trying to keep a tight rein on his temper “Let me spell this out for you. We know McTavish never left the country, ok? We also have his finger prints all over the scene of a murder in Harlem. The lab boys ran a test down there and you know what they came up with? The place was just filled with the fucken bug. It was everywhere. The contamination was so bad they had to burn the place down.”

“They burned it?” Charles asked rhetorically.

"They had to! It was that bad in there. As a matter of fact two of the lab guys caught the bug just from being inside. So here we are right the place is contaminated, McTavish’s’ prints are everywhere and we find out that the government guys pulled a raid on a underground clinic in the area the day before.

"Apparently these two doctors were using the virus to cure terminally sick rich folks. Sound like anyone you know? Then there’s the small fact that Ms. Rebecca McTavish has no records of her existence what so ever. And believe me we checked everywhere. No social security number, no birth certificate, no driver’s license, she’s never paid taxes nothing!”

Charles could think of nothing to refute what Green said. He wanted to tell the detective that he was full of shit, but the man had done his homework.

“No comment huh? Why ain’t I surprised? Look as far as I’m concerned McTavish did what he had too to survive. I got no issue with that. Hell I might have even done the same thing in his shoes. But the facts are that two days ago he killed a restaurant owner and quite possibly a drug dealer a couple blocks away for the restaurant. On top of that, now my partner is sick, I feel like crap, and to be honest you’ve looked better yourself. So I’m going to ask you to help me out here. If she is infected she’s contagious and she’s killed. So what do you say? Help me get her off the streets and into quarantine. Chances are the murder case will never come to trial since no one’s going to want to be in the court room with her.”

Charles looked at Green for a long minute as he considered the detectives words carefully. He was feeling a bit under the weather this morning, running a slight fever. He just hadn’t considered the risk of being around Rebecca before now. Was he really infected? Could he really allow her to infect others if she was contagious?

“What …what do you need me to do?” Charles asked Green.

“I just want to wait here for her to come back. We’ll arrest her and have her taken to the Roosevelt Island quarantine. She’ll be looked after there, and she won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”

“Fine. You can stay.”

“Thanks.”

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

Three hours later the front door the apartment opened and in stumbled Rebecca and Marie, their hands full of bags from an impressive array of high end clothing stores. Obviously the shopping expedition had been an expensive success.

The two women arrived with their hands over flowing with bags and boxes. They were so excited by their purchases that they failed to notice Detective Green waiting for them in the hall way.

“Ms. McTavish?” he asked attracting their attention.

“Oh Detective Green. You startled me.” Rebecca told him as a ball of icy fear suddenly appeared in her belly.

“Ms. McTavish you're under arrest for being an unregistered Acidalia infectee and suspicion of murder of Edger Rodriguez.” Green told her as he moved to put handcuffs on the new woman.

“What do you mean being infected with Acidalia? I’m not infected with anything! Charles, tell him he’s got no clue what he’s talking about,” she said pleadingly.

“I’m sorry Miss.” was all Charles could bring himself to say.

“Sorry? Sorry? What the hell do you mean sorry?”

“Please Ms. McTavish just come with us, and we’ll get you tested. If you’re not infected, then you’ll be home in a couple hours,” Green said, trying to placate the nervous looking woman.

“No! I’m not going anywhere. This is my home and I’m staying right here!”

“Miss please …” Green began putting his hand roughly on Rebecca’s shoulder.

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

That was the last thing Rebecca could recall from that evening. She had woken up on her couch sometime later feeling somewhat disoriented, but rested. There was a foul smell in the room, but other than that, from where she was laying, everything seemed normal.

It was several minutes later, as she got up to answer nature's call, that she saw what a carnal pool the living room had been turned into. There was blood splattered everywhere. Over near the door lay two bodies that looked as if they had been ripped apart by an animal of some kind.

Rebecca gasped in horror as she walked over and saw the bodies belonged to Detective Green and the uniformed officer that had been in the apartment with him.

The confused and horrified new woman looked around the room as she strained to recall what had happened. As she looked, her gaze fell on the swinging door that led to the kitchen. Holding the door open just a bit was a pair of shoes that looked exactly like the kind Charles always wore.

“No.” was all she could say as she stepped over and pulled the door open completely.

It was all she could do to keep from throwing up, as she looked at the remains of the man that had been like a brother to her for almost thirty years. His body was so mangled that, if not for the distinctive snow white color of his hair, she may not have even recognized him.

A whimper coming from the other end of the kitchen finally drew her horror filled gaze from the butler’s body. Looking in the direction of the sound, Rebecca spotted Marie huddled up in the far corner curled into a tight ball.

“Oh my god! Marie … are … are you alright? What happened in here?”

The house keeper shrunk away from her as she reached out to put a hand on the frightened woman. “Stay away from me!!!!!” she screeched with a frightened faraway look in her eye.

Rebecca backed off. “What … what’s wrong? Tell me. What happened to Charles and … and the detectives.”

Marie looked up at her mistress. “You … you killed them … killed them … you did it ... they’re dead … you did it…” the small house keeper kept repeating.

“I did … this? Me? Oh God no!!! Not again!!! Noooooo!!!” Rebecca screamed, as she got up and ran out of the apartment, never to return.

********

It took the now homeless new woman less time than she would have believed possible to adjust to life on the streets. The first few days were filled with terror of the other street people and fear of what would happen if she was actually threatened by one of them.

However the human species is nothing if not adaptable, and eventually she settled into a sort of routine consisting of cycles of fear filled nights and days spent begging for money to eat with. She found a strange kind of peace in the daily grind of mere survival, almost a feeling of comfort in its simplicity.

Her daily treks across the city and back looking for sustenance had only one small draw back. Everywhere she went, she brought the Acidalia virus with her. Spreading it out through America’s largest city, infecting hundreds of new victims a day with no idea she was the one the health authorities were looking so desperately for.

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

KLTR 6pm News:

Good evening, San Francisco. Our top story at this hour continues to be the international fallout resulting from the alleged use of chemical weapons by the United States against U.N troops in Alaska two days ago.

According to reports, U.N. forces had seized a pivotal part of the Alaskan Pipeline, our countries only source of oil during these days. In a misguided attempt to reclaim the area without damaging the pipeline, General Robert Alexander ordered the use of Saran gas against the invaders.

U.N Secretary General Mushin Mosbard, along with Canadian Prime Minister Jules Montclair, have called for the immediate resignation of President Fuller saying, “It matters not who they are claiming gave the order. It is the responsibility of President Fuller to control his military. We demand that he resign immediately, and whoever his successor is surrender the United States government to U.N. control!”

Secretary Mosbard went on to say, “Our mission started out as a peaceful way to protect the rest of the world from the rapidly spreading virus in the United States. However this most recent action has made several of our allies begin to rethink our missions’ objectives. While I am in no way threatening the great people of America, I am calling on them to see the use of outlawed chemical weapons for what it is … a crime against humanity. I am calling them to use their laws and remove these criminals from power.”

Several other countries, including some of our closest allies, chief amongst them England and Israel, have joined in the chorus calling for the President’s resignation.

Presidential press secretary Kerry Enrich issued the following reply to the Secretary Generals statement. “It is the height of hypocrisy for the U.N to call our actions criminal when it was a move to cut off our oil supplies that provoked the entire situation. If they had simply stayed out of our territory none of this would have even occurred. We repeat our call for the United Nations to end their attempts to usurp our nation's place in the world and to withdraw all troops from our borders and ships from our waters. Until they comply with our rightful demands this country will continue to use any means it deems necessary to defend itself and its interests.”

Stay tuned after tonight’s news cast for a special edition of CBN Nightly news with Don Rathernot as he and a special panel of international policy experts discuss the present crisis, and what may be done to relieve it.

Compounding the nation's problems, there are reports tonight that the Atlantic fleet has come up short again in a massive battle with Russian and British Naval vessels that took place this afternoon in Long Island Sound. Sources in the Navy Commanders office have confirmed the loss of the Destroyer USS Franklin and its support ships. We have also received reports that the submarine USS Norfolk has yet to report in. Its last communication was recorded at approximately 2:23pm EDT.

U.N. ships, while denying the U.S Navy and Coast Guard access to the battle zone, have begun a search of the area that the Norfolk was last reported in for survivors. We will continue to update this story as more information becomes available.

In other news: the massive man hunt continues in Kansas for Reverend Morris Manning after the beating and immolation of Richard Foley in the small farming town of Horace.

The Reverend is wanted on charges of inciting a riot, arson and first degree murder while committing a felony.

He and a large number of his parishioners and fellow town folk apparently surrounded the Foley residence on the outskirt of the small Kansas community and demanded that alleged Acidalia infectee Richard be put out of their community, according to local Sheriff Lloyd Fletcher.

When the sick boy’s parents refused to comply with mob's demand, the Reverend and his followers incited the rest of the crowd to storm the family’s home.

According to police reports, the boy was dragged out of the building and beaten severely before being burned alive. The mob then followed that atrocity by lighting the Foley residence on fire before additional police could arrive and put an end to the riot.

Kansas State Police spokeswoman Sandra Grey told reporters in a prepared statement, that eighteen arrests have been made in the case so far and that they believe they are close to having Reverend Morris in custody as well.

In Washington today, tensions were running high as the trial of Dr. Carla Ryson on charges of crimes against humanity got under way. Dr. Ryson for those of you unaware is on trial for allegedly releasing the Acidalia virus.

The prosecution presented the first of what is expected to be a three part opening argument this afternoon after Judge Howard Warpner denied several motions to dismiss charges by the defense in the morning session.

Attorney General Richard Provost detailed first how the doctor created the virus in an attempt to help her nephew who was at the time dying of cancer. He also detailed that how even after seeing the effects the virus had after accidentally infecting Grayson labs owner and fellow researcher Sam Grayson, Dr. Ryson still gave it to her nephew, knowing he would be able to spread it to others.

Several times during the Attorney General's opening statement, Defense Attorney Carson Walters attempted to object to certain statements by Provost. However Judge Warpner refused to acknowledge the defense attorney's objections, citing that he would have ample time to refute the prosecutions accusation during his own opening statements.

Outside the courthouse, protesters with every imaginable agenda shouted slogans and rhetoric at police and military units as they patrolled crowd control barriers along a five block radius. As many as one hundred arrests were reported, mainly resulting from fights between protesters with opposing views.

Washington D.C. Police Commissioner Philip Rivers told reporters that if crowd control continues to be an issue he would consider allowing his officers to use more force in containing any future outbreaks along the barriers.

“It wouldn’t be my first choice of how to handle the situation.” the Commissioner was quoted as saying this evening. “I am going to appeal to the protesters to restrain your emotions. Say what you feel you need to but respect the rights of others to have their say too.”

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

Tuesday August 1 8:20am PDT San Francisco Warehouse district:

Ellie stood upstairs in the warehouses’ loft looking thoughtfully out the window at the brick lined flat roofs of the other mostly abandoned buildings. The sun shined brightly this morning, and the huge eastern facing window let in enough of its light to illuminate most of the huge space behind her.

The short, curly haired woman drank in the warmth as she turned her most recent problem over and over again in her mind.

Two days ago, after more than 24 hours missing, Vera had returned to the Sisters hideaway with a newcomer that she had insisted on everyone accepting into the group. It was quite odd, even for Vera. While being pushy or for that matter agitated was nothing new, there seemed to be almost a sense of desperation in her voice that made El very suspicious.

To make matters worse every time she had tried to talk to Vera about it, the short, overweight lawyer had rebuffed her.

The fact that the newcomer was a doctor, and one of some renown, had made it impossible to reject her considering the number of emerging women present in their facility. There were just too many of them for just a single trained doctor and her jury rigged staff to help effectively.

Most of her inner circle had greeted the news as a god send, especially Roberta, but El had seen her own skepticism reflected in her dearest friend Nicole’s face. The two founders of the movement knew they needed the medical help and despite their unspoken concerns allowed Dr. Blue to take up residence here at the warehouse.

Both of them had been keeping a very close eye on the former head of the CDC, and thus far she had nothing more than aid in the care of those still in the throes of the Acidalia induced transformation. With Mia being so helpful, it made it even harder for El to come to grips with her concerns. So she had gotten up very early this morning, made herself a cup of coffee and come up here to ask God for some guidance.

The groaning and vibration of the rusty metal stairs behind her pulled her attention back to the present. She turned to see Nicole just stepping onto the loft's dust covered floor.

With her usual smile plastered firmly on her face Nicole said “Good Morning El. I see you’ve been up here for a while so I brought you another cup of coffee.”

Ellie smiled back at her friend and graciously accepted the offered coffee. The two women stood both looking out the window now sipping their coffee in silence just enjoying the suns warmth and the pleasure of each other’s company. Now a day’s time for just the two of them to be alone together was a rare thing indeed.

Finally breaking the silence Ellie asked “What’s on today’s agenda?”

“In about an hour or so I’m heading out with Jill and Sharon to go look around at some of the other buildings. We’re going to do the usual sweep for neighbors, but while we were at it, the plan was to see if any could be used for additional housing. In case you hadn’t noticed, hanging around up here all by yourself, it’s getting pretty tight down there,” Nicole joked.

Ellie smiled slightly at the joke and nodded in acknowledgment of the tall redhead’s actual point.

The Sisters were rapidly out growing this one building's capacity. Even at its immense size the warehouse was starting to feel like a bit like a sardine can with the membership growing in leaps and bounds. Thus far there hadn’t been any major problems or physical altercations between any of its residents, something everyone was grateful for. However, at the rate the building was filling up, it wasn’t going to be long before some small incident was going to cause someone to explode.

“Roberta and Mia have asked you to come down to their little makeshift hospital.”

“They did? Did either of them tell you why?”

“Nope. Mia just asked that you stop by. Though I’ll have to say she seemed a bit agitated about something.”

“Well then let’s not keep the doctors waiting.” Ellie took Nicole by the hand and began leading her to the stair way.

“El, before we go down there, there’s something I need to ask.”

“Sure hun. What’s up?”

“I’m concerned about the way Vera has been acting since she came back the other day. She just hasn’t been acting normal. Well, not normal for her anyhow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well as strange as this is going to sound, she’s just been acting … well … nice. She’s been strangely pleasant and helpful to everyone, even me. It’s just odd. I’m really starting to think aliens kidnapped the real Vera or something. She was missing for most of a day you know, so they would have had the chance to take her away and replace her with a not so evil robot.”

Ellie laughed. “You know, normally I wouldn’t be too concerned about someone changing their ways and trying to be more helpful to our cause, but I understand what you mean. She hasn’t been acting at all like the Vera we’ve all come to know and love.”

Nicole raised her eyebrow at the word love.

Ellie gave an evil little smile as she continued, “I’ve tried to talk to her a few times since she came back, but she is always rushing off somewhere. If I get the chance this afternoon I’ll have a talk with her and see if I can ferret out what’s going on. Maybe I can get her to tell me the real reason she wanted Mia in our group so badly.”

“Still suspicious I take it.” Nicole asked.

“You’re not?”

“I didn’t say that. I was just confirming that we were still on the same page with her.”

“Sadly, we are. As much as I wish it were otherwise it’s going to be a long time before I have any real trust in Dr. Blue. It seems just a bit too … convenient, I guess is the word I’m looking for. I mean, come on … the head of the CDC gets put out from her job as head researcher for the government, and of all places in the world she could go she winds up here … with us? What are the chances?”

“I hear you, but I have to admit she’s been a tremendous help since she arrived.”

“True … but that just makes the whole situation harder to figure out. If the government knows enough about us to plant someone among us …” El began to say then abruptly threw her hands into the air in frustration. “Grrr … This whole matter is giving me a headache. Let’s just go see what they want and I’ll make sure I catch up with Vera later on.”

The two women walked down stairs and wound their way through the football field sized building, stopping several times to say good morning or speak briefly to this person or that. Such was life for Ellie now. It didn’t bother her, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. These people were her charges, her friends and followers thanks to God's will. It was her joy and responsibility to make each one feel as if they were the most important person she had seen that day.

Twenty or so minutes later, they arrived at the makeshift hospital housed in the comparatively small annex to the main building. Tucked away behind a roll away sheet metal door and then three layers of heavy curtains sat a room filled with approximately ten rows of fifteen of beds.

Each bed held a new woman, each at a different point in their transformation. The full beds showed both the success and need for the Sisters mission. They also represented and exposed what the government had been trying its best to hide, the true extent that Acidalia was spreading through the population. There were days that Ellie wondered if there would be enough men left when the disease had run its course for the species to survive, but that was a worry for another day.

The first thing that struck you after getting over the amount of bed was the smell. The room seemed to be steeped in a vaguely nauseating combination of unnamable bodily fluids. The smell didn’t overwhelm you, but it was impossible to ignore, flirting with your nose like a small bug that keeps flying in front of your eye. Roberta had told her on several different occasions that there was nothing that could be done about it without installing a hugely expensive ventilation system, which they couldn’t afford, but it still made her wonder just how sanitary their facility was.

Busy at work attending their patients were the two doctors, Roberta and Mia. Ellie and Nicole stood out of everyone’s way at the front of the large room and watched them all work. The two physicians and their mostly shanghaied crew of interns resembled bees collecting pollen in the way they moved from bed to bed. The doctors would check a patient and move on, stopping only to give instructions to one of the makeshift orderlies from time to time.

After a few minutes Roberta finally looked up and spotted the two new women stood. Standing up straight she waved at them. Roberta then scanned the room eventually spotting her compatriot. Quickly Roberta walked over to Mia and spoke to the new arrival while pointing in Nicole and Ellie’s direction. Mia nodded her head and turned back to the patient she had been attending while Roberta walked over and met up with the visitors.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Ellie said to the doctor as they gave each other a quick hug.

“You could say that. I tell you I don’t know how I managed to take care of all these people by myself.”

“Well now you’ve got some help, so it must be a bit easier for you,” Nicole chimed in.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much of a help Mia has been. To be honest, she’s a much better doctor than I am. She’s taught me more than a few things about how to handle different complications that go along with the transition process that I wasn’t even aware of.”

“Roberta you shouldn’t put yourself down. We never would have gotten this far without you and your dedication to our mission,” Ellie told the doctor. “Remember it was you that came up with our test for the virus and made it possible for us to take care of these people.”

“Thank you, I can’t tell you how much that means to me. But the truth is the truth. She knows a hell of a lot more about this virus than I do. As a matter of fact Mia wanted to … ”

“There you are!” Mia snarled loudly as she approached the small gathering, looking very pissed off. “I just want to know before I really get involved with what you people have started doing here, are you purposely trying to kill all these poor people?”

“Excuse me? Kill them? Are you kidding me?” Nicole shot back defensively. “Of course we’re not trying to kill them. We’re trying to help them …”

“Well you’re doing a hell of a job then, let me tell you. They need to be in a hospital!”

“Oh sure just ship them off so the government can pack them up in a freight car and ship them off like cattle to …”

“Ok! Ok wait! Everyone stop! This arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Ellie demanded. “Roberta why don’t you explain what’s going on in here and what Dr. Blue is so upset about?”

“What am I upset about? I’ll tell you …”

“Dr. Blue! Might I remind you that you are a guest here? Now I asked Roberta to tell us what the problem is since you are more interested in yelling than explaining. So shut your mouth and let her speak! My goodness!” Ellie said with exasperation. “Now Roberta, you were about to say …?”

“We lost three more patients last night … and there are at least five that in all likelihood won’t see the end of the day.”

“Three more? All … all in the same night?” Ellie asked no one in particular in a voice full of sorrow.

Ellie shook her head. As much good as they were doing here, they were starting to loose patients at an alarming rate. Including the most recent three the total was now at fifty in the last two weeks. She mourned each one as they passed and knew they were now with God, but it didn’t change the fact that there was a problem that needed to be solved.

“Yes three. Three living breathing human beings that in all probability would still be alive if they were in a proper care facility!” Mia jumped back in with.

“A proper care facility?” Nicole asked mockingly. “You mean quarantine like Reynolds don’t you doctor? I knew we shouldn’t have allowed her to join with us! She wants to see all of us locked up!”

“At least at Reynolds, or Dillon, or any real hospital they might still be alive!” Mia shouted back.

“Then why don’t you just leave! Go back to that cushy government job of yours with their full fledged hospitals and great medical care! God! Why did you even come here?” Nicole said angrily.

Mia’s face reddened with a combination of anger and embarrassment as she said with barely contained fury “Why am I here?” she laughed humorlessly. “Why am I here? You really want to know? I’ll tell you so that way you won’t have to ask yourself or me again ok? I came here because the people that I had to answer to at that so-called cushy government job, as you put it, decided that anything that needed to be done to find a cure for the bug was justified. It didn’t matter to them what it was, or who, or for that matter how many people got hurt. The only thing that mattered was finding a cure. So they told me to use live Acidalia victims as guinea pigs, and I refused. I just couldn’t bring myself to experiment on people that had done nothing more than have the misfortune than to get infected with something they had never asked for. So they sent me away because I wouldn’t intentionally hurt people like you, Nicole.”

“Live human testing?” Roberta repeated.

“Yes, live human testing … conducted by our government. With no regard for the innocents they are using like they were a bunch of lab rats. But, as horrible as that is, it doesn’t change the fact that the people here you are trying to help are dying and something needs to be done about it.”

“Dr. Blue, what would you have us do then? What can we be doing differently to help them?” Ellie asked.

“Mia and I have come up with a wish list of sorts.” Roberta said as she fished two pieces of paper out of her lab coat and handed it to Ellie. “The first list is stuff that we absolutely need to have, such as a completely separate facility, a very clean one to house our patients in until they’re through the change. The second is lower priority things such as testing equipment.”

Ellie studied the two lists for a few minutes. Looking up from them she said, “the separate facility we will find. Nicole was taking a party out this afternoon to go look for more housing, so she will make finding place for these women the priority. They have come here and entrusted us to care for them, so we must do everything we can to prove we are worthy of that trust. A lot of this other stuff is very expensive. I’m not sure we can afford to buy most of it, even if we knew where to go to purchase it.”

“I have an idea about how we can procure the equipment that we need the most. There are more than twenty hospitals in the San Francisco Bay area. We could “borrow” what we need from them. Take a little bit from each one, so that we don’t leave them completely without what they need, but still give us what we do.”

“How are we going to get inside of those places so we can “borrow” the items? It’s not like they’re going to let us wander the halls. Things are getting flakey out there, but the hospitals are still being guarded like they were Fort Knox.”

“I have my CDC ID, and Roberta still has her City Hospital one. We can find nurses uniforms at any costume or uniform store for the rest of you. If we time our entrance to when our target hospital is very busy and we look and act like we belong there, I’d be willing to bet that no one would even notice us snooping around.”

“You bet? Don’t you mean you hope no one will notice us? What would you do if someone did Doctor?” Nicole asked her anger with Mia pouring out for all to see.

“Look I understand you don’t trust me, Nicole. To be honest I don’t know if I trust you people either, but you can take one thing to the bank. I want those people over there lying in those beds to have the best chance to survive we can provide. There isn’t anything I would do that would intentionally put them or the rest of us trying to help them in danger.”

Ellie studied Mia’s eyes as the doctor spoke. While she still had reservations over the doctor's true motives for being here, she saw the honest conviction there and heard it in her voice.

“Put together a list of possible facilities that would have what you need doctors and we’ll see what can be done to procure what you need.” Ellie told them. Turning to Nicole she said “Why don’t you go find Jill and get going on finding some place for these people.”

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

Washington D.C. 10:15am the White House, the President's office:

General Alexander stood still as a statue and quiet as a church mouse all the while biting his tongue and pulling hard on the reigns of his anger as his Commander in Chief read him the riot act.

The President had every right in the world to be upset. The international backlash from the use of Saran gas on the Canadian troops that had taken part of the Alaskan Pipeline was substantial and getting worse by the minute. The fact that Alexander had only been doing what the Secretary of Defense had ordered him to, an order that had been treated like it had come from God himself, didn’t matter to anyone in charge, at least not anymore. Though he was pretty sure if they had pulled it off without any backlash, they would have been tripping over each other taking credit.

Regardless of Alexander’s opinion, like it or not, he was now the scapegoat for the incident. It burned his ass something fierce, but as any good soldier would do, he sat silently and took his lumps without complaint.

“General, I asked you a question,” Fuller growled angrily, bringing Alexander’s attention back to the present.

“I’m sorry, Sir, could you repeat yourself?” he asked humbly as he waited for the president to explode.

Fuller didn’t disappoint either.

“I asked you what the hell you were thinking deploying a weapon like that. My god, man! Didn’t you realize what the reaction would be?”

“I did as I was instructed to do Sir. I was told to reclaim the pipeline without damaging it, and the gas was the only way I saw to accomplish that objective, Sir. I take full responsibility for that decision.”

“You take??” Fuller screamed his face purple with rage. “You take responsibility. You're damn right you’re taking responsibility!”

“Would you like my resignation now, Sir?”

“Your resignation? General, you're lucky I don’t have you dragged away in irons!”

“Yes Sir.”

“General, you are relieved of duty until such a time as I figure out what to do with you. You are to have no contact with any military personnel and absolutely no contact with the press. You go home and stay there until I call you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Good! Now get the hell out of here!”

Without a further word, General Alexander raised his right hand to his forehead and saluted Fuller. In what would be considered the ultimate insult to any military man, the president made no move to salute back simply saying, “Go!”

It was all the General could do to restrain his anger at the insult, but somehow he did as instructed, turning and silently walking out of the room.

Fuller watched Alexander leave, and silently cursed himself for losing his temper like he had. He knew he had just made an enemy out of the former Army Chief, but the man had caused a shit storm and a half, and now someone was going to have to take the fall.

‘Oh well. What’s done is done.’ He thought to himself as he hit the intercom button on his desk. “Caitlin, please send Mr. Carlyle and Secretary Blake in.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Seconds later, the Chief of Staff and the Secretary of defense entered the room.

“How did he take the news?” Carlyle asked.

“As you would expect,” Fuller answered.

“He looked royally pissed off as he walked out,” Blake said.

“Yeah, I imagine he’s not too happy right now, but fuck him. He’s responsible for this latest mess, so I don’t really give a shit how he feels,” Fuller replied.

“Is it really wise to upset him like that, Bob? He’s been in on a lot of meetings. I wouldn’t want him to start talking about our plans out of spite,” Carlyle said.

“I ordered him to have no contact with anyone until we figure out what to do with him.”

“You think he’ll just keep quiet because you ordered him to? He should be in a cell, that way we can know for sure,” Carlyle told him.

“No matter what else has happened Bob Alexander is a soldier first and foremost. He would die before he’d compromise the chain of command. I’m sure he won’t do anything that would countermand a direct order,” Blake told them.

“Yes … I’m sure he’ll play ball. He knows it will be much worse for him if he doesn’t. But that’s not our biggest problem right now. Frank, what’s the UN military reaction going to be?”

“Right now there seems to be a bit of disorder in their ranks. However, I’ve talked to several experts and they all agree that they will most likely go on the offensive now. Probably send more troops into Alaska and over the northern border,” Blake said.

“I trust we’re going to be ready to repel them, if that's what come to be?”

“We are moving our men into position at this moment, sir. They should be in position in a couple days time. Once the initial perimeter is set we’ll be send in reinforcements. If the U.N attacks, we’ll be there to send them back over the border empty handed.”

“Good. Very good. And the blockade?”

“We’ve still been unable to free the Reagan from the sand bar in Puget Sound, and that battle off of Long Island cost us a lot. The good news is that the Norfolk has been located. It’s in about four hundred feet of water. The Russian Navy has a DSRV (Deep Sea Recovery Vehicle. A small submarine used for rescue operations) that they’ve been using to bring our men up.”

“The Russians?”

“Yes Sir. We can’t get any of our ships in there. They’ve got us blocked out right now. However they are flying the sailors over to the Kennedy via helicopter as soon as they’re brought to the surface.”

The situation disturbed him immensely. Here they were, the most powerful Navy in the world and they were losing ships and battles left and right. Though his advisors had spelled out a litany of reasons for the defeats, most of them eminently reasonable, it still didn’t sit right with him.

“Answer me this. Why is it that we cannot rescue our own people? Why are the Russians of all people doing it? We are the most powerful military in the world and here we are being barred from helping our own men and getting one of our ships back into the ocean. I want you to get our ships out to that sub site. Tell the Russians or whoever we are taking over the rescue operations.”

“Sir we can’t just tell the Russians we’re taking over. There are other issues …” Blake told Fuller.

“Mr. Blake, I don’t give a shit about your other issues! Those are our men God damn it! They are our responsibility! As far as the Reagan goes, we need that ship afloat and helping to defend our waters! Get it out of there and back into the ocean! I don’t care how you do it, just get it done!” Fuller yelled at the top of his lungs cutting off his secretary of defense.

Inwardly rolling his eyes Blake said quietly “I’ll pass on your unhappiness with their lack of progress to the Navy as soon as we’re done here.”

“See that you do.” Fuller replied angrily.

The Secretary of Defense stood there uncomfortably, waiting for his boss to say something else for a handful of seconds before realizing that Fuller’s continued silence meant he was done with him. “I guess I’ll go make that call now.”

“Good idea,” Fuller replied sarcastically and looked down at some paper work on his desk.

Restraining the urge to shrug his shoulders, Blake turned and walked out of the office.

As the door closed, Fuller looked back up to find Carlyle still in the room with him. “Yes, Davis? Was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

“Yes, Mr. President. Just before you called me down here I was on the phone with Senate President Grissem. He told me that Senator George came to him last night and informed him of his intention to issue a Congressional subpoena for you to appear in front of his investigative committee in two weeks.”

“Christ! Just what I need. What did Grissem say? Was he going to support George and allow it?”

“He doesn’t really have any choice but to let him, sir. These hearings are very popular with the public right now. If he denied Georges request, then he would wind up having to explain his reasons to every news outlet you can think of.”

“God damn it! Doesn’t he understand that there is a national emergency going on? I don’t have the time to sit there for days on end defending my decisions to someone that’s only trying to make me look bad so that he can take my job. Get a hold of Wanda Stark and get her on finding a way to delay my appearance for as long as possible.”

“You got it. I’ll give her a call this afternoon.”

“Good.” Fuller replied looking as frustrated and worn out as Carlyle had ever seen him in all their years of friendship.

“Don’t worry about this Bob. I’ll make sure it gets taken care of.”

“I know you will. It’s just … I … This isn’t what I thought I was signing on for when I ran for office. I don’t regret it, but it feels like no matter what I try to do I’m going to be wrong. ”

“I can’t say I envy you even a little bit, but we all have to play the hand we’re dealt. You can only do what you feel is best for the country and let history decide if you were right or not.”

“Yes … I suppose you're right. I’ll tell you though there’s a big part of me that wonders if I really want to be reelected in November. I think I’d be a lot happier in my life if George won. At least I’d be a lot less stressed out.”

“You don’t really mean that. The country needs consistent leadership right now. Breaking in a new administration and new president would only cause more problems, not solve them. George is a buffoon. He would piss his pants if he had to deal with all this. You know it and so does just about everyone else around here. You're the best man to lead us through this crisis.”

“Thanks. Nice to know someone still has some confidence in me. I know we’ll get through this one way or the other. I just wonder how much of our souls will be left when it’s all over.”

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

Forty minutes after leaving the White House, Alexander strode purposefully into the main entrance of the Pentagon. On his ride over from the White House he had managed to get a hold of the Secretary of Defense. After a brief, heated discussion, Alexander secured permission to retrieve a few personal items from the office.

“General Alexander? I’ve been ordered to escort you to your office,” one of the MPs guarding the entrance told him.

“I don’t need an escort.”

“I have my orders sir.”

Alexander knew there was no way he was going to win this fight. He shrugged and said, “Let’s go then.”

The General walked quickly while the MP struggled to keep up. Once they arrived at his soon to be former office, he told his escort, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“I …”

“My secretary is in there. She won’t let me take anything I’m not supposed to. Now wait here,” Alexander said, and walked in the door.

“Helen?” he said to his secretary as he entered.

“Oh, General. We just received the word from Secretary Blake’s office … I’m sorry, sir. You deserve better.”

“Thank you Helen. I need to get some personal items. Can you get Colonel Jordon on the line for me?”

“I … I thought you weren’t … We were told not to …” Alexander flashed her a stern look stopping her protest in its tracks. “Yes, sir. I’ll have him on the line for you right away.”

“Thank you, Helen,” Alexander said as he walked into the inner office.

Once inside, the General grabbed a small cardboard box out from the small utility closet behind his office. Dumping the contents out, he sat down in the large leather chair behind his desk and began collecting the handful pictures of his family, a few small mementos given to him from soldiers in the field. He placed everything carefully in the box on top of five indiscriminate note books.

As he packed, the intercom on his desk came to life.

“General? I have Colonel Jordon on the line for you, sir.”

“Thank you Helen,” Alexander replied, as he reached for the phone seated on the desk.

“Charlie?” he asked, as he lifted the hand set.

“Yes, General. What can I do for you, sir?”

“First off, I’m probably not going to be a General for much longer, Colonel.”

"Damn it, Bob, I’m sorry to hear that. Fuller pinned the whole thing on you?”

“Yes. Nothing official has come down yet, but I’ve been relieved of duty. I’m not even supposed to be having this conversation with you.”

“I understand, sir. The phone records will be taken care of.”

“Good. I need you to do something for me, Charlie. It’s going to put you at odds with the CIC (Commander in Chief), but it will make everyone else’s life a bit easier.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Do you still have the list of contacts that received those packages we sent out last month?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. I want you to have your people contact them and order the packages destroyed before these fools order them to be used.”

“You don’t really believe they would do that, do you?”

“If you had asked me last week if I thought so, I would have told you no. But now? Look at what they did in Alaska, and then ask how far they are willing to go.”

“I see your point. I’ll do what I can, sir, but most of these people don’t fall under military jurisdiction.”

“No one should give you any trouble. Last month I had your name added to the chain of command list. There’s a code you need to include on the order. I’ll email it to you as soon as I get home.”

“How did you manage to pull that one off?”

“I’m a member of the Joint Chiefs; who’s going to argue with me?”

Colonel Jordon chuckled. One of the things he most admired about Alexander was the man’s ability to get what he wanted done.

“Not me, that’s for sure. Are you going to be alright?”

“I think so. Fuller’s going to have a big surprise coming to him if he thinks I’m going down without a fight.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second, Bob.”

“You’re a good man, Charlie. I’ll be in touch.”

“Good luck, General.”

“Good luck to us all, Charlie. I think we’re all going to need some before this is all over.”

With that said, Alexander hung the phone up. He looked down at the box containing the few things he wanted to keep if, indeed, his military life was now over. Seeing the corner of one of the note books exposed he rearranged the items until all five of them were completely hidden.

Now the real trick was going to be getting them out to the car without having them discovered. They were now his lifeline. His insurance in case Fuller or one of his cronies decided he was too big a security risk to be left alive. The irony was, if they read what was inside each book, they would be proven right.

He didn’t want to use the information they contained, but very soon he might not be left any choice. ‘Fuck em. God damned bureaucrats! If they decide to push me then they brought it on themselves,’ the General thought bitterly as he got up and walked towards the office door and out into the hallway where his escort waited impatiently.

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

Jordon hung up the phone and shook his head in disgust. To him there was no better man to lead the Army than General Alexander, and the President was a bigger jackass than he had ever imagined if he didn’t see it. Still, it was partly Alexander’s own fault. He had refused to throw Blake under the proverbial bus.

‘What a god damned mess this whole thing is!’ the Colonel thought to himself.

Pushing the issue aside for now, Jordon reached down for the paperwork that he had been looking over before the phone call. The probe into the goings on at Reynolds was finding more violations than he had been aware of. He was glad that all the findings were presented to him before anyone else got a look at them.

His staff had been working overtime doing rewrites, as they tried to soften the language and reduce the impact of the conclusions. In the end, though, he wondered if anything he did would be enough to make it all go away. Deep inside, he doubted it.

It was all he could do to put aside his personal disgust at what was happening there. It wasn’t his job to babysit Dr. Stanley and her staff, but somehow it had become his job to cover for them.

As distasteful as some of what was going on over there was, they were well within their rights, under the President’s order to find a cure using any means necessary, to do what they were doing. Some of the experiments pushed the boundaries of the edict to the breaking point, but unless its scope suddenly narrowed everything that was happening over there could be justified.

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

Billings, Montana Wednesday August 2 12:30am MDT:

Reverend Manning looked around the filthy, claustrophobically small motel room and wrinkled his nose in disgust. This wasn’t the kind of place he had ever frequented before now, but when you’re on the run you hide where you can. Unfortunately this was all he could afford.

Getting up off the creaky wooden chair with a cracked faux leather seat pad, he spotted a roach skittering across the filthy looking burnt orange carpet. With nothing but disgust, he stomped the horrid insect dead with his left foot.

‘I can’t stay in this place,’ he thought to himself. ‘How can I spread God's word from here? For that matter how can I fulfill my mission if I’m forced to hide?’

Manning looked up at the peeling white paint of the ceiling and silently begged God for guidance.

As he prayed the memory of what had gone on at the Foley’s house bubbled to the surface of his mind and filled him with pride. He had, though his followers passed down his Lord's judgment on the boy -- and a mighty punishment it had been.

A small smile creased his lips as he savored the memory the sinner’s howls of pain as the flames of righteousness consumed him.

‘Let them all be warned! God knows of your sin and has appointed me his executioner!’ he had kept hollering as the smell of burning flesh had filled his nostrils. Never before had he realized how sweet of a smell it truly was.

The Sheriff, despite his protestations otherwise, simply stood aside and watched as Manning’s people carried out God's will. A few of the deputies had even joined in. James Devin, the sheriff’s number two man, had been the one that dragged the boy out into the yard when most of the rest of his flock had seemed to lose their nerve. And now they now were trying to hunt him down?

The fever with which he was now being pursued amazed him to some degree. He had done nothing more than God's will. Couldn’t they see that? Of course they couldn’t. They were blind to the will of their Lord, so wrapped up in their belief in their laws that they could not see the forest for the trees.

“God wants these people, punished you fools!” he felt like screaming at them all.

In his heart though, he knew it would have no effect. They would never see God's hand in what had happened, they would only see one of their laws broken.

Would he ever be able to convince them of the truth? He didn’t know for sure, but he sincerely doubted it. They were blind to the will of God.

So now he was now a wanted man with little in the way of resources or money. He knew that God had kept his followers that had come with him, when the time came to leave the farm, safe from the police and wholeheartedly believed that the Lord would deliver what they needed to survive. He and the rest of the flock just needed to find away to survive and stay free until the time of deliverance arrived.

Since arriving here, they had spent all their time hold up in the three little rooms, all that they could afford in even this crappy little motel just outside the city limits. It continued to frustrate Morris to have to hide, but what choice did he have? He was simply too hot to go anywhere in public at this time.

A knock on the door interrupted Manning’s brooding. “Yes, what is it?” he asked demandingly.

“Reverend? There someone out here that wants to talk to you,” he heard Tom Jenkins call through the door.”

‘What in God’s name is he talking about?’ Manning wondered, as he got up and walked over to the door.

Sliding the flimsy chain lock into the holder on the door, Morris opened it as far as the security device would allow. “Thomas, what do you mean that someone wants to talk to me? No one knows we’re here. How could anyone want to … ” his sentence was cut short by the sight of his make shift security guard being held at bay by a smartly dressed man with a sawed off shot gun pointed at his head.

The gun toting stranger looked over at Morris and smiled pleasantly. “Reverend Morris? My name is Greg Harkin. I’m sorry about the gun, but I didn’t think your people would just let me come up and knock on your door. I’d like to have a word with you, if you’d be willing. I promise it will be well worth your time.”

Manning looked at the tall brown haired man in his expensive looking three piece suit, which did nothing to hide the mass of muscle underneath, with a mix of fear and confusion. The sight of the gun frightened the gray haired fugitive. However, the stranger’s attitude conveyed no threat. It was more like a confidence that there was nothing that could happen that would take him by surprise. It made it impossible for Manning to get a true read on him.

Seeing the indecision on the reverend's face, Harkin told him, “I’ll tell you what Reverend, if you tell your man here to relax and let me say my peace, I’ll put my gun away. Hell, I’ll even give it him to hold on to if that will make you feel better. I’m just here to talk, nothing else. I have an offer to make that will be well worth your time, if you’ll hear me out.”

Manning studied the stranger for a few moments. Something inside told him to trust the stranger. Looking over at Jenkins he said, “Tom, take his gun and wait out here.”

With a wide smile Harkin handed the weapon to Jenkins. Stepping towards the door he told him, “Now take care of that thing. I’ll be expecting to collect it when we’re done, in the same condition I gave it to you.”

Jenkins gave Harkin a quick nod in the direction of the door way. “The Reverend is waiting for you. You best get in there, before he decides he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Closing the door as the men quipped at each other, the grey haired minister said a quick prayer to God for his guidance and protection. Once done, Manning undid the chain lock. Seconds later, he opened the door completely and saw Harkin, mockingly holding his arms out away from his body in an offer to let Jenkins frisk him for any other weapons. The man’s cockiness was obviously infuriating Tom.

You could hear the thud of each of the former farmer’s hands as they hit the stranger’s body while performing the search. Harkin, in a credit to his toughness, just stood there and took the beating as if nothing unusual was happening.

“Am I all set now, hoss?”

“Yeah. You're clean.”

“Okay then, Reverend, if I may?”

Manning waved his visitor in and closed the door behind them.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Harkin?” Morris asked, as he offered his visitor a seat.

“Thank you, Reverend,” Harkin said accepting the offered chair. “And it’s not what you can do for me, sir; it’s what I -- or actually the people that I represent -- can do for you.”

“And what exactly is that, Mr. Harkin? And while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me how it is you were able to find me and my followers so quickly.”

“Let’s just say we have our ways of finding who we want to find and leave it at that,” Harkin replied smugly. “As for what we can do for you, well … let me start off by saying you are under no obligation to accept our offer. If you refuse, we will take no action against you or any of your people unless your agenda becomes cross to ours.”

“I see.”

“Good. So down to brass tacks then. I am here to offer you support in the form of money, safe houses, transportation … whatever you need really.”

“And why would you want to give me that kind of help? Are you a messenger of some kind from God? Are you here to give me a pledge of undying loyalty to the cause he has set before us?”

Harkin let out a small laugh. “No, reverend. I’m not here because I believe in your cause, or because God sent me, or even because I like you. My group has its own agenda and reasons, but we believe that your cause will help us achieve our goals, so we offering you help. That’s all, just support. What you do with that support is entirely up to you.”

“Unless, of course, I cross purpose with you.”

“I don’t really foresee that happening, Reverend, but yes you wouldn’t want to do that if it could be avoided.”

“So how much money are we talking about?”

“Whatever you need. We are very well financed. On top of that, we have a large variety of safe houses all over the country that you can use as you need them.”

“I’ll have to say, that’s an extremely generous offer, Mr. Harkin. You’ll forgive me if I’m finding it hard to believe that you want absolutely nothing from me in return.”

“Well, there is one little thing you could do for us when you get your organization strong enough,” Harkin admitted contritely.

“And what would that be?”

“Have you heard of the Sisters of Acidalia?”

“Yes, I think I may have. They are that group in San Francisco right? The ones that are responsible for all those clinic explosions, if I’m correct.”

“Something like that. But anyhow, when you’re ready, we’d like you to go to San Francisco and make some trouble for them. Draw them out, if you will.”

“And why would you want them drawn out, may I ask?”

“We would like to find their leader, a new woman that goes by the name of Ellie Wolf.”

“And why do you want her?”

“Let’s just say we have our reasons, but you don’t need to worry about what they might be. The Sisters are the perfect target for you and your mission. They believe that the virus is a gift from God I’m told.”

“Blasphemy!”

“Yes … Anyhow, reverend, do we have a deal?”

“Yes, I believe we do, Mr. Harkin.”

“That’s terrific," Harkin replied as he fished a card out of his suit jackets inner pocket. Handing the card to Manning he said “This should get you started.”

“What is this?” Manning asked, as he read the card which had just a series of numbers written on it.

“Those are access codes for a bank account under the name of James Beam. There is 100,000 dollars in there for you to use. We will keep an eye on the account. When we see it starting to run low, we’ll replenish the funds.”

“$100,000? Thank you Mr. Harkin and God bless you and your group.”

“No, thank you, reverend. It’s good to have you aboard. Good luck with your mission. We’ll be in touch from time to time.”

“I look forward to our next meeting then sir," Manning said as the two men stood up and shook hands.

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

After he had driven about a mile from the motel Harkin pulled out his cell phone and dialed the familiar number by heart. On the fourth ring, as always, it was answered.

“This is Harkin," he said into it “Yes, he was there … Yes, he accepted the offer … Yes, it’s very good news … I’m sure he’ll be the perfect one to draw Wolf out of hiding … I’d say probably by the end of the month … Has there been any word from Philip’s group yet? … Yes I saw the reports about the unruly crowds and the problem the cops were having on TV … They caused it? That’s great ... Yes I’m sure they will have Dr. Ryson in their possession soon, too … I’m on my way back to San Francisco, unless you have something else for me … Yeah the vials are still in the trunk. What do you think, I’ve been tossing them out along the road side or something? … Ok, ok. But I only did it once though … L.A.? Really? Going after one of the big guns time huh? Yeah sure I can take care of it … Yes sir, I think I should be able to get close enough to him if you provide me with the appropriate identification … What address? … 1483 Wilshire Blvd? Got it … I can be there in about two days … Ok I’ll check back in once it’s done.”

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

The ear splitting screech of the rusted hinges being forced made him spring to his feet.

Had they found him at last? He had been hiding here for weeks, and had hoped that he had finally found a safe haven from those that pursued him.

Running to the edge of the small loft, accused terrorist and murderer Warren Quinlan looked to see who or what had set off his natural alarm system. Kneeling down so that he couldn’t be seen from the first floor, he watched as the large rusted steel door shuddered two more times before groaning loudly on its long rusted hinges as it swung inwards. He reached down into his sock, and removed the .32 revolver from it and aimed it in the general direction of the door.

The weapon was more for show than an actual threat since it contained only one bullet, his last ditch escape in case they ever got him into a corner that he couldn’t escape. He would much rather be dead than paraded around like they had poor George Mathers before he they shot him while “attempting to escape” federal custody.

“Wow, what a mess!” he heard a stranger's voice say as he saw, much to his surprise, a tall red headed woman enter the old storage building. The absurdly tall and well built girl was followed by two others, a shorter brunette and another one with red hair but much smaller than the first.

“I sure hope I don’t get stuck on clean up duty here if we wind up using this one," the brunette, Jill, said.

‘Using? What would they want to use this place for?’ Warren wondered to himself as he continued to watch.

“Yeah, sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me. Maybe we can talk El into sending Vera," the shorter redhead joked, causing her two companions to burst into to titters of laughter.

“Just be careful. If you cut yourself on something here, Roberta will need to give you a tetanus shot," the tall one said.

As he continued to observe the three intruders, the wanted man relaxed a bit realizing that, while he wasn’t sure what such lovely women were doing rummaging around in a place like this, they certainly didn’t appear to be here for him. He loosened his grip on the gun slightly, but still held it facing his unwanted guests general direction.

The three new women began to move through the medium sized warehouse, completely unaware that they were being observed. They looked over the main room, checking the floor for stability, pushing on the walls to make sure they weren’t going to fall over and inspecting the structure's general condition.

Nicole was in the front corner nearest the door when she heard Jill call out, “Hey, Nicole, come check this out.”

As she turned toward the direction of the brunette’s voice she caught a fleeting movement out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to come from up on the small second floor landing. Looking up at the loft she stared at it intently for several seconds, trying to pinpoint what it was that caught her eye, but everything remained still and undisturbed.

Outwardly shrugging while inwardly suspicious, she headed off to see what Jill wanted to show her. After a few moments of searching she found her two companions. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Look what we found," Sharon, the second redhead said excitedly.

Nicole looked over where the two women indicated. On the floor was a shabby sleeping bag, a small pile of dirty looking clothes, and a two foot by one foot metal box with a shiny new looking lock on it.

“Looks like someone’s been living here," Jill said, stating the obvious.

“Yes it does …” Nicole said distractedly. She looked back over her shoulder towards the landing. “I think whoever it is has been watching us. Just as I was coming over here, I could have sworn I saw something move up stairs.”

“Do you think whoever it is, is here keeping an eye on our building?” Sharon asked.

“I’d be surprised if that was the case. This doesn’t look like the way a policeman or a government agent would be set up if they were on a stake out or something like that. I’d say we stumbled on a homeless person’s lair.”

“What should we do?” Sharon asked Nicole.

“You should all put your hands up where I can see them, and get the fuck away from my stuff," a highly agitated sounding man's voice told them, before Nicole could respond.

The three women turn to see a rail-thin, filthy looking man, with thick greasy dark brown hair, standing behind them with a gun in his hand.

Nicole, Jill, and Sharon stared at the newcomer blankly, as a wave of confusion washed over them for a moment, but made no move to follow his instructions.

“Nicole?” Jill said, unsure whether to do as the gun wielder told them or not.

The lack of response of the three intruders simultaneously incensed and worried Quinlan. Trying to take control of the situation he roared, “What the fuck is with you three? Get your asses over by that fucken wall, or I’m gonna shoot all of you! Jesus Christ!”

The tall red head still stayed planted where she was. The other two following her lead remained planted in place as well.

Their lack of fear was really starting to worry Warren. He knew the gun didn’t have enough ammunition to kill all three of them if they called his bluff. It seemed as if the three of them somehow sensed the emptiness of his threats, further aggravating his already unstable state of mind. Taking in a deep calming breath he decided to try a slightly different track and began to explain “I … I just want my stuff, and then I’m out of here. Just stay where you are. Don’t make me have to shoot you. I just want my stuff," he repeated.

“Get it then. We won’t get in your way," Nicole said, trying to reassure him.

Quinlan looked nervously at her. He could see Nicole was obviously the leader, and thus the one he needed to watch the closest. Keeping his eyes focused on the tall beauty, he bent down into the single beam of light that filtered in from the dirt encrusted second floor windows and began to gather his meager belongings.

Jill recognized him as soon as she got a good look at his face. In her surprise at their captor's identity she blurted out, “Hey, I know you. You’re that guy, what’s his face … the one cops are looking for. You know the one that killed that reporter on TV.”

‘Oh great! Good job Jill!’ Nicole thought to herself, as their captor looked angrily up at Jill.

“I … I didn’t kill anyone!’ Warren cried pushing the gun into Jill’s face. “It was the fucken army that shot her. They didn’t want the stupid report to get out! They just fucken shot her! Boom! Game over! But it wasn’t. See, the fucken government decided to pin the blame on me an … and poor George. But we didn’t do it! Uh uh! Didn’t kill her! Nope didn’t kill anyone! It was the army! Not me! Understand? It wasn’t fucken me!”

“We understand," Nicole said placatingly. “The military’s been working over time trying to pin the blame for everything that’s gone wrong lately on anyone they can find. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that they would do something like that, and then blame an innocent bystander.”

“Oh shut the fuck up! Christ! You don’t know shit! I’m on to you and your bull shit! You’d tell me anything if you thought it would save you and your friends there," Quinlan growled angrily.

Warren glanced down at the gun in his hand and wondered what he was going to do with these women now. He couldn’t let them go and tell the cops where he was but he didn’t want to shoot anyone. All he wanted was to grab his things and get the hell out of there.

Nicole took a small step in his direction.

Looking back up he yelled, “Where do you think you’re going? Move another inch and you’re fucken dead! You hear me?”

Despite of his harsh tone, Nicole could clearly see obvious indecision etched on his face, and wondered if their gun wielding captor really had a clue how to get out of this without having to shoot one of them. Though she was loath to admit it, the way things were heading she wasn’t optimistic about how this situation was going to play out.

She had recognized him as soon as she got a good look at him, too, but hadn’t planned on mentioning it to him. She understood that Jill wasn’t trying to sabotage the situation, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to string up the blonde for opening her mouth and making Quinlan feel threatened by them.

She watched their captor's wide eyes nervously dart from one of them to the next. He continually raised the barrel his gun in their direction then let it fall back towards the floor again. The new woman could tell Warren had little clue as to what to do.

“Look,” she said, hoping to diffuse the situation, “why don’t you just get your stuff and go like you were planning. We’re not going to tell to police about you, okay? If we did, it would put us at risk too. So just go. It’s okay. We swear not to tell anyone about you.”

“Like I’m supposed to just believe you? I know how big the reward on my head is! Do I look stupid? As soon as I walk out the door you’ll grab your cell phone and turn me in. I won’t let them take me. Do you hear that? I won’t! I’d rather die!” Warren raved.

Nicole could see his eyes flare with determination and understood that this was the one subject he wasn’t confused about.. She swallowed hard, as she realized just how much trouble they were in right now. Deciding she had no other choice she said “Look Warren … may I call you Warren?”

“Shut the fuck up! I told you not to fucken talk! Why won’t you listen? Do you want me to shoot you?”

“No. I don’t want you to shoot. I just want to talk to you for a second. Have you heard of the Sisters of Acidalia?”

“The sisters … You mean the terrorists that have been blowing up all those testing centers? Yeah I’ve heard of them. So what? You gonna tell me you three are them or something?”

“Well, last time I checked we hadn’t blown anything up, but, yes, the three of us are members. So you see, there’s no way we could go to the authorities and tell them about you without endangering ourselves as well.”

“Yeah right … Hey wait a minute … Are you infected???? Oh what the fuck!! This is just great! Now not only do I have to figure out what to do with you, now I got the bug too? FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” he bellowed.

“Look Warren, it’s ok. None of us are contagious. You don’t need to worry …”

“I don’t huh? Why don’t I? Just 'cause you say you're not contagious? Like you’d fucken tell me if you were. You can save your bullshit for someone else, cause I’m not buyin' it. FUCK!!!” he barked.

The situation was becoming too much tense for the redhead's taste. If something wasn’t done soon to defuse it soon, she was convinced there would be bloodshed. Nicole could feel, before her revelation that their captive didn’t really want to hurt them, but now who knew? It almost seemed that fate was fighting to remove the choice from his hands.

The tall, red headed new woman watched Quinlan intently, waiting for an opening. As if in answer to her prayers he looked down again at the gun in his hand. Nicole wasted no time in pouncing on him. Before he was even aware he was under attack, she had her hands wrapped around his and began twisting the weapon from his grip.

Warren struggled with all his might to keep control of the gun, but the new woman was much stronger than he would have believed possible. In the blink of an eye she ripped it from his hands, knocking him to the floor in the same fluid motion.

“Okay. Now, Mr. Quinlan, why don’t you stay right there where you are. Don’t make me use this on you," Nicole instructed as she pointed the gun at him, relieved to be on the trigger side of the weapon.

From his position on the floor, Warren looked up to see the gun aimed at his face now. Tears, of frustration, joy, sadness, who could tell at this point, welled up in his eyes. His emotions swirled in a million directions at once. The gun had represented his last ditch escape. Seeing it pointed at him made him long for the blessed oblivion; at the same time it scared him beyond words.

Deciding to embrace the reaper, Quinlan, with a desperate pleading look on his face said, “Do it. Please. Just shoot me … please. Put me out of my misery. I’m beggin you … Please … ”

“I’ve been running for so long … so long” he told them, as he began to whimper, “I just can’t take it anymore. I never hurt anyone … I just want … need it to end.”

Quinlan moved from whimpering to full on sobbing. Nicole looked at him sympathetically, but unsure whether he was faking or not. Warren fell to his side and curled into a tight ball, bawling.

“Hold this," she told Jill, as she handed her the gun.

Getting down on her knees, Nicole put a gentle hand on the desperate man's back and began to rub it gently up and down. “It’s okay, Warren. Let it out. It’s going to be okay. I promise," she told him soothingly.

With tear filled eyes, Quinlan turned his head to look at the tall redhead. “How … how can you say that? E … everything is just s … so fucked up now. How … how did it get this bad?” he sobbed.

“I don’t know, but you don’t have to be alone anymore. You can come with us if you want. We have a safe place you can stay. No one will be able to hurt you there. The police won’t find you, and we’ll do what we can to find a way to clear your name. Will you let us … let me help you?”

“You … you’d do that for me? Af … after I pulled a gun on you? You’d still help me? Why?”

“Because now-a-days we all need a little bit of help.”

“Ummm Nicole? Can I talk to you for a second?” Jill asked. “Privately!”

“Sure thing Jill. Will you excuse me for a second?”

“Ya sure do what you need to," Warren replied as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Nicole stood up, and saw Jill handing Sharon the gun. “You can put that away I think," She told the smaller read head.

Sharon looked over at Quinlan and saw he was still just sitting on the floor. She flipped the cylinder open to empty the rounds out of it. Just a single bullet landed in her hand. With a small giggle she held it up for everyone to see between her forefinger and thumb.

“You think he was planning to have us line up one behind the other, if he decided he wanted to kill us?” she asked sarcastically.

“It had you worried," Warren piped up defensively.

Nicole snickered at the exchange then turned her attention to Jill. “What’s up?”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring him with us? I mean how do we know he didn’t really kill that news lady like they said he did?”

Nicole thought for a moment before she replied. “I can’t say that I know for a fact that he isn’t lying, but my gut tells me he’s telling the truth. I mean the government has lied about so much already, why not this too?”

“So you’re going to risk the rest of us because you have a feeling he’s telling the truth?”

“Umm … yeah. Yes, I am," Nicole stated in a tone that was intended to put an end to the discussion.

Jill face showed she still wasn’t convinced, but she deferred to Nicole’s judgment and remained silent.

Nicole turned back to Quinlan. “Are you ready?”

Warren nodded.

“Then let’s get going. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

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

San Raphael Thursday August 3 6:35am PDT

Yvonne Logan sat at table in the warm, sunlit kitchen of the house she grew up in, sipping hot coffee and shaking her head over the recent turn of events that had led her back here after all that time away.

Just two days, ago she had arrived back at her parents’ house, fear filled and wondering if she would be welcomed back or turned brutally away. The nervousness had left her indecisive as to whether to go up and knock on the bright red front door, or to just turn and run.

The real question that kept her planted was, if not here, where else would she go?

It had taken her almost a week to make her way here from San Jose, where Philip had tossed her out of the car with a stern warning to go home and never show her face again. He had promised any reunion between them would end badly for Yvonne. That left going back there out of the question.

To be truthful, Yvonne highly doubted that he could really back up his threat. She simply didn’t believe he had the balls to kill anyone himself. Philip talked tough, but in the end she believed he was nothing more than a gutless weenie.

Be that as it may, she knew there wasn’t going to be any way she could help free Gail. As much as she wished otherwise, there wasn’t anything she could do on her own and there wasn’t anyone left she could call for help. They were all either dead or missing.

With that acknowledged, she decided to take Philip's advice and head home.

As she stood at the brink of announcing her presence to her family, Yvonne found herself frozen in place, wondering if it was really such a good idea. Things had been very bad the last time she had talked to her mother.

In truth, Yvonne hadn’t really had much of a chance to say anything that day. Mom had plenty to say though, and wasn’t shy about sharing her opinions either.

She had hurt her daughter with her comments over how she had let herself and the house go. However, it was the accusations of neglect of the girls had stung the deepest. In the end, the older woman had left with the Logan girls in tow, and a stern warning to her daughter to get her act together if she ever hoped to see the children again.

That night had almost been the end of things for Yvonne. How many hours had she sat there on the bed she had shared with her missing husband, looking at Thomas’ gun that sat there calling out to her and begging to be used? How long had she considered what it would feel like when the bullet passed through her head, or if she would even feel it at all? She didn’t really know.

What she did know was that, in the end, she hadn’t been able to do it. She had survived the night by simply being overcome with exhaustion and falling asleep. Many times, Yvonne had thought back over the weeks since that day, finding herself still breathing and found herself wondering if surviving had been a blessing or a curse.

Looking back at that day, she had stood under the laurel tree for so long trying to decide what to do that fate took the choice out of her hands.

“Oh my gosh! Mommy? Is that really you?” Yvonne had heard a young girl screech from across the small, tree lined street. An unbidden smile stretched across the face of the runaway terrorist as she spied the form of her oldest daughter Michele jumping up and down excitedly in her mother’s front yard.

The sight of the young girl was all it took to break her indecision and cause tears of joy to stream down her face. Yvonne bolted across the street as Michele screeched excitedly to her younger sister “Mel, its mommy. It’s mommy! Come see!”

Michele had barely gotten the final word out of her mouth before being scooped up by her mother. The two embraced tightly, holding each other like they were afraid if they let go it would turn out to be a dream.

“MOMMY!!!!!!” a second voice called out.

Yvonne looked over, and saw her younger daughter speeding in her direction, her arms spread wide. The long missing mother bent over and scooped the five year old up with her free arm. The three of them stood there for what seemed like forever, hugging each other tightly.

“My God, I’ve missed you two so much," she told them, as the tears flowed freely from all three sets of eyes.

“Michele, Melanie, where did the two of you get to?” Yvonne’s mothers’ voice called from around the far corner of the house. “Girls whe … ” the older woman’s voice died off as she saw the scene on the front lawn. “Yvonne? Is that you?”

Yvonne had looked over in the direction of her mother voice and nodded. She was so choked up by the reunion with her children it had rendered her mute at that moment.

“When did you get here? Why didn’t you tell us you were here?” her mother, Kerry had asked in an astonished voice. “Wayne? Wayne come see! Yvonne has come back!” Kerry called to the back yard.

After what seemed like an eternity in the front of the house embracing each other Yvonne’s father had suggested they go inside. The reunited family had taken his advice and spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other’s company.

Finally, though they claimed to not be sleepy, the girls had been put to bed. Yvonne had thoroughly enjoyed tucking them in and had taken the time to apologize to both for abandoning them. Her daughters had made her promise that she would never leave them again, and Yvonne had been all too pleased to make the pledge.

When she had arrived back downstairs in the living room with her parents, she could tell they were expecting her to reveal where she had been all this time and what she had been up to.

“I suppose the two of you want to know where I’ve been now," she told her mother and father inviting them to ask what ever questions they had.

“Well, we hadn’t wanted to bring it up in front of the girls … but, yes, we would like to know," Wayne replied.

Yvonne had sat silent for a few moments debating how much to tell them. How much of the truth would be safe for them know? Would I be fair to burden them with knowledge of everything she had been through in the last weeks? She didn’t know.

Her internal debate turned out to be a waste of time. Before she realized it, she had spilled out entire story.

To their credit, Wayne and Kerry had listened to their daughter’s mostly tear filled tale without much judgment over her actions since hooking up with Gail. Even though some of the stories she relayed had horrified and sicken them beyond words.

“So where is your friend now?” Kerry asked, referring to Gail.

“I wish I knew Ma. They took her away and told me to disappear. There wasn’t anything I could do to help her. Even if I had called them, the police wouldn’t have been able to find her with all of Philip's connections. So here I am … disappeared.”

“Well, whatever the reason, we’re glad to have you back.”

“Thank you. Thank you both … I … I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed the two of you. Never mind how much I missed the girls. I feel like a giant hole in my heart has finally been filled. I … I only wish Thomas could be here with us too.”

“Did you ever find him?”

“No. There was no way for us to get into Reynolds and rescue him. If he’s even still alive that is.”

“Do you think he is?”

“I … I don’t know Ma. All the stories … about what goes on there … if even half of them are true … I’m not sure I want him to have to live through that.”

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

Over the next couple of days, Yvonne had done what she could to move back into mommy mode. How many times she had chastised herself for letting her children go she didn’t know. What she did know is that leaving them again wasn’t an option. Her days of anger and revenge were now behind her. Thomas was most likely dead, and she needed to get past that and be a mother for her daughters now.

“Good morning, princess. You’re up awful early aren’t you?” she heard Wayne ask in a slightly horse voice.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“That I can see," her father joked.

“I made coffee, if you want some.”

“I do, and thank you," he replied walking over to the coffee maker on the counter.

Yvonne turned and watched him go by. As he did, she noticed a slight flush in his face. “Dad? Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“I’m okay. I just seem to have a bit of a sore throat and I'm feeling a bit warm this morning. I’ll be fine though. After I have my coffee I’ll toss down a couple aspirin and be good as new," he said, trying to reassure her.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, mother, I’ll be fine. I’ve had a cold once or twice before in my life you know," he teased.

“Har, har, har! You're a funny guy for an old man, you know that?”

“Who’s old?”

“Ummm … no one … I guess," Yvonne said with a smile, enjoying the light hearted verbal jousting.

The two of them sat at the table for the next half hour chatting about nothing much and enjoying each other's company. Finally Wayne needed to get to work and Yvonne needed to attend to the girls, who were just waking up and demanding waffles for breakfast.

When her mother had appeared in the kitchen door way looking a bit flushed too, Yvonne started to become truly concerned. She hadn’t mentioned to them that she was infected, because she had thought she was past the contagious stage of the virus.

She thought that mentioning it would just make her parents worry over nothing. At least that’s what she told herself. Now, with both of them looking sick, she began to wonder if she really was non-contagious.

With a large lump of fear growing in her throat, Yvonne swallowed hard and prayed to God that she was wrong.

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

Confirmed cases: 508,236

Actual cases: 1,875,421

End part X

Kudos

Comments

Horrible story

Another episode of Acidalia. More blood and death, violence and betrayal. This story really is terrifying, horrifying, disgusting, unsettling, ...

Strangely enough each time I see a new episode posted I can't stop myself from reading it. I have to admit I do have to stop a few times while reading each episode to recover a bit.

I salute you Amanda D: this is one of very few horror stories that still captures me. Normally I hate the genre with a passion.

Hugs,

Kimby

Hugs,

Kimby

Acidalia

I started to read this, then gave up as it became more depressing. I picked it up again today and backtracked.

The plot seems to me to be falling headlong into total despondency; I can see no happy ending but, then again, I don't know where you are going with this and just how long you expect to take to get there.

I do need to find something happy to read now otherwise there is a severe danger of nightmares.

Even though I find the story shocking and horrific, please accept my praise for your translation of imagination into the written word. It is a frightening picture of the reaction of absolute power to people and situations that appear to pose a threat to the status quo.

Susie

Revisions

I notice there are some differences between this copy of the story and the one at http://www.freewebs.com/planetmandy/ . For instance, the number of cases at the end of the chapter is substantially different. Evidently there was some kind of editing between the two versions. The question is, which one is the "final" version?

Sir Lee

I must concur

There is so little hope in this series. It reminds
me of Joan of Arcadia where the premise was very decent
with the possibility of maybe a little inspiration.

That did not happen. There is unremitting gravitas
but without any relief and closure during any part in
the season - no uplift, just lesson after lesson.

And we know what happened to that show.

Kim

icky stuff

The veneer of civilization peels back, revealing something we don't like to believe about human nature but it's all too well documented. It's a great series, and I love to dip my toe into stuff like this; To indulge whatever it is that draws me to books about epidemics and political torture and death camps
(for real horror forget Stephen King, try history!)... but I can't let such thinking consume me;
I have come to Big Closet to try to UNLEARN my natural pessimism, not feed it.
I'm gonna have to read a whole buncha Little Kid's Camp stories after this!!

.
And remember...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifLqzLEB3E0

Look a little deeper ...

and pay attention to the characters.

Ellie and the Sisters, and so many others are like beacons in this story. People who face the situation with courage; striving to do the right thing, despite putting themselves at risk.

That stands in contrast to the President who seems bent on hiding from it all.

As Heinlein once wrote, it's "as futile as a cat covering up on a tile floor."

Amanda's 'good guys' strive for the mark set by Ulysses in Tennyson's poem:

"One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Nicole (a.k.a. Itinerant)

--
Veni, Vidi, Velcro:
I came, I saw, I stuck around.

Filling a Niche

Thanks very much for this story.

Yes, it's very dark, but sometimes a dark story is good for us. It evokes strong emotions and makes us think what we'd do in the same situation.

The character development is very good - enough so that I care what happens to a lot of the characters.

My favorite character is Thomas Logan. I'm not sure why. I just hope Thomas continues to endure and eventually overcome her situation.

- Terry

Acidalia X

Wondering when some nation will launch the missiles and start a nuclear war.

Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Sorry...

First of all, thank you for sharing this story. You have a nice writing style for the most part and it's very readable.

That said, I think I'm going to have to stop with this chapter. I've only gotten this far out of shear bloody-mindedness. It exceeded my suspension of disbelief several chapters ago.

The reason for this is that there are no good characters in the story with the possible exception of Thomas Logan. Everyone else is a freakin' menace to the human race. The story became too unbelievable for me when at every oppotunity, when a character was faced with a choice between behaving with decency or inhuman cruelty, or between acting responsibly or selfishly, or between acting to deescalate the situation or escalate it to even more dire, they invariable chose to act cruelly, selfishly, or to escalate the situation. Nobody has taken the high road in any meaningful way to this point of the story, and I just can't believe that.

For example, Elle Wolf might seem like a decent person to some, but when she discovers she has a highly infectious illness that can easily wipe out the human race or at the very least the US in a single generation (if everyone's female then there will be no babies), her response is to go out and infect everyone she can and her group continues to do so gallivanting around the city with no regard to those the could infect.

Major Brady? He would have never passed the psyche eval to be a private much less reach the rank of Major in the US armed forces. I could see acting ruthlessly to ensure the success of his mission, but they way he took such obvious pleasure in tormenting and killing the weak and powerless was over the top.

I did have some hopes for the Colonel...at first. I thought he might be the voice of reason, but in the end, he played Hitler to Dr. Stanley's Mengele and has to this point continued to follow the formula of making the cruelest decisions possible, apparently firmly turning his back on the Hippocratic oath along with Stanley.

Laura and Sam? Aside from Thomas Logan they are the most sympathetic characters but they still behaved unbelievably irresponsibly. They should have locked down the entire building when they realized Sam was infected. I would imagine that would be SOP in any lab dealing with experimental viruses.

President Fuller is the absolute worst offender. Instead of behaving globally responsibly and complimenting the 'no land' restrictions instituted by other countries by closing our own sea and air ports as well as locking down our borders to international traffic to prevent the virus from spreading globally, instead he inexplicably responds antagonistically eventually drawing us into conflict with the rest of the world--like we needed to start a war when the virus was threatening our very existence already--even going so far as to have the virus positioned for the intentional infection of other countries. All while blustering egotistically about the USA's place in the world. I find it hard to believe someone that grossly incompetent would ever last long enough without stepping on his own pee-pee to get elected president, although G.W. Bush came close.

Sorry to be so long winded and negative with my analysis. It would have been better if there was at least some up-lifting scenes/events that showed the positive aspects of human nature as well as the darker sides. As it is written, I'm almost rooting for the virus to wipe out the US and for the other nuclear powers to rain down nukes on what's left.

Acidalia 10

Comments

Horrible story

Acidalia

Revisions

I must concur

icky stuff

Look a little deeper ...

Filling a Niche

Acidalia X

Sorry...

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