Disaster

I began to strip and get into the suit. I helped him zip up in the back and he did the same with me. We clipped belts on, and he handed me goggles. I tried adjusting them, but my hands were shaking too much to work the clasps. Instead, I let them hang them around my neck.

Outside, several afflicted were slamming against the dome. I could see something black dripping from their mouths. Their fingernails and bulging eyes were also dark as coal. One incredibly fast one was pushing powerfully through them all, knocking them down like candlepins.

The group of humans parted, trying to escape the singular fast infected in their midst. The wave of screams picked up again. I watched as the wrecking ball one dashed into the middle, then stopped amidst the crowd. It raised its head to the sky, spitting black saliva that lofted high up into the air, blooming outward before it descended like dark, volcanic ash and rain.

As the inky saliva fell upon the panicked humans around them, their continued shouts and shrieking seemed to only add to the infection rate. I watched as the humans wiped their faces and eyes, swallowing the poisonous fluid. Several dropped to the ground. The spitting afflicted one did not linger to observe the results.

Instead, it sprinted onward.

The people who had fallen from the black excretions remained prone but within a few minutes, they rose. They too had jet black mouths and saliva. It looked like their hands had been dipped in ink partway up to their forearms, covering their wrists. The pace of infection was terrifying; It hadn't taken even a minute for them to turn.

I heard the new group taking up a communal humming sound. As one, the thirty or so sprinted toward the larger crowd in the middle of the base. More screams echoed from the nearby apartments. Gunfire erupted around us.

We watched in horror as viscous black spit slipped in globs down the clear dome.

As I pushed him into the bathroom shutting and locking the door I demanded, "Bram, tell me what the fuck is going on! Talk, now!"

He took a deep breath and said, "Those are Noirs, infected people."

"Huh? Explain!"

"I'm the head of the Nimble Virus project."

"That's just a name to me. What the fuck is it?"

"It's a virus to improve our troops. It's something I've been working on for a few years. "

"What kind of virus can improve anyone?"

"A productive one, Alexandra."

"How is it productive?"

"It enhances your traits, either good or bad. When it goes bad, it can do worse than hurt people. It can change them. Into something," he paused, searching for the word, "else … obviously."

"How did you find out it could turn them?" I asked.

"It was first brought to my attention a few weeks ago, when one of my men discovered a vulnerability." he said. "By the time I figured it out, it was too late."

"You said it was yours?"

"It was an experiment I had designed, yes."

"And you mentioned something about good and bad. What do you mean?"

"Once the viral load is high enough, the virus chooses which way to go."

"'Chooses?'"

"Yeah, it can tell what you're made of. Your morals. We were keeping it away from questionable people."

"That's ridiculous. How does a virus know anything about morality?"

"It can sense genes, chemistry, catecholamine levels … but the way it truly learns is by following your motivation."

"Huh?"

"Most viruses make you tired, lethargic, sometimes depressed, right?"

"Yeah."

"We tweaked that part to behave in the opposite manner. With Nimble, it can sense what you want. What you desire most. If what you wish for is something destructive, hurtful, or evil, it knows."

"Slow down. You're not making sense."

"People have thoughts that motivate them, right? The virus latches onto your reward system. To do that, we needed a virus that would infect the spinal cord and brain … like the Lassa virus."

"Lassa virus? What's that?"

"Rabies. Rhabdoviridae. Ever heard about that vaccine work from TJU in Philly and University of Minho in Braga, Portugal?" he asked. I crossed my arms and shook my head.

"Of course not," I said. "But what I think you're saying is that you were able to engineer an altered virus that can integrate with personality. Am I understanding correctly?"

"Yes, and memories," he said, glancing at me.

"If it weren't so destructive, I'd congratulate you," I muttered. He pursed his lips and nodded. "So, why do some turn into ...?"

"Noirs. We call them Noirs," he clarified.

"'Noirs'?"

"Yes, it means black, dark."

"That makes sense ... about the name I mean. But why do their bodies change like that?"

"With some trials we began to see denaturing of the protein in certain cells causing necrotic lesions and hemorrhagic symptoms. They begin to bleed from their mouths, which is highly contagious. The necrosis causes the outer layer of tongue dermis to slough off and then the virus accelerates replication in the salivary glands. If you ingest it, get it in your eyes or a wound, infection is inevitable. And they 'want' to infect others."

"So, if I got infected, would I instantly turn into a Noir? Is there a chance it would act just like a regular enhancing injection?"

"No. Once you're exposed to a Noir, you're one of them."

"Do they get any enhanced traits?"

"At least one that we know of. They're incredibly fast. As were our troops. It was such a promising project …" he trailed off.

I ran down a checklist of all the times I'd gone jogging. Would I stand any chance if I had to outrun a Noir?

"I guess the next question for me is, have you been injected with it?"

He paused before saying, "Not with the most recent one, but yes I have."

"That's why you're sick, isn't it?"

"Yes. What I've done is only partially infect myself with earlier, weaker formulas. With the current one, I wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Why not?"

"I have no doubt I'd go Noir."

He believed he was more bad than good. And maybe he was right.

"But if you did get the injection, would you get better? Couldn't it work like a vaccine does with rabies?"

"If I was a 'morally good person,' most likely."

"Well, what the hell happened when it went bad? Do you know the first one who turned Noir?"

"His name was Private D'Arby Nichols. He was hell bent on getting the injection even though we all had misgivings about him."

I remembered the soldier yelling at the lab tech that day. That must have been D'Arby. Fear creeped through me.

"Wait. So, you had theories about the potential aggression beforehand?"

"Yes, but that was only based on animal trials with rats only. Some became aggressive. Can't really account for rat morality, though." He cracked an ironic smile. "But the other side of that is when we tested on dogs and cats. Both species showed monumentally positive results. We were so hopeful that I gave the green light to try with willing people on base."

"Okay, what happened with D'Arby?"

"Somehow, he got his hands on an injection. There was someone in the lab who gave it to him, is what I heard. Mark White had warned me about so many things including D'Arby but I wouldn't listen."

"Why Bram?"

"Because Mark made me … jealous." He bowed his head, trying to compose himself. "I tried to make up for it by at least preventing the leak but D'Arby has been missing for a while now. If it is him, he's been able to do quite a bit of damage by now."

"Fuck, Bram," I whispered. "You think it's your fault."

"Of course, it's my fucking fault!" he shouted.

"Shh!" I insisted.

He paused trying to catch his breath. After running his hands over his head a few times, he took a deep breath and said, "It was my project that went haywire, and I didn't listen because I was behaving like a child. Do you understand the gut-wrenching regret I have?" He held his face in his hands. "Not that I expect you to."

"You couldn't have known that this would happen. Please, don't dwell on that aspect."

"Oh, Alexandra," he began and scoffed under his breath. "I was negligent." I stared at him as he dropped his hands.

When our eyes met, I asked, "What should we do? Isn't staying here a bad idea?"

"What better place than at the facility it was created in with the scientist who knows the most about it? Besides, I'm sure we're quarantined."

"True," I said. "But isn't this like … What do you call it where the virus first happened?"

"You're thinking of ground zero. Which usually means the infection is strongest here."

"Right," I whispered. "So again, what should we do? What's our plan?"

"Staying put is best. Things may change but for now we have solar generators and protection from the outside with our domes. Not to mention the fact that we have trained people here who can shoot--"

He stopped himself short. I watched him hold his stomach, doubling over in pain.

"What is it?" I asked, rushing to him. "From your personal trials?" I asked. He nodded. We left the bathroom and I helped bring him over to sit on the couch. He was awash with sweat within seconds.

I brought him some water. He drank as much as he could, but he had to stop due to his nausea. I set the cup on the coffee table. I helped lay him down on the couch.

"Thank you, Alexandra," he said.

"Of course," I said with a nod. I watched him as he went through waves of sickness. He peeled his shirt off and laid back down.

"I'll be okay in a minute," he said. Movement outside caught our attention. "Get your M4. Sling it," he directed. "You'll need to check things out."

I swung the weapon on my shoulder. That's when the power went out. The floodlights stayed on momentarily, sagged, and then they were gone.

"Oh my god," I whispered. "We're fucked, aren't we?" Even in the darkness I could see his stern, determined look.

"No. We aren't unless we give up. Just do what I've taught you. You can do this, Alexandra."

"Thanks for the inspiring pep talk," I whispered fiercely. Bram sat up as best as he could, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Listen, we're going to have to do a crash course in trusting one another, okay? Do you think you can do that?"

"Why would I trust you?"

"Because we can't fucking do this alone; there's just no way. We need to be a team on this. I need you."

Suddenly, the generators flipped on, and our dome was restored. The few lights we had turned on illuminated his face. I stared into his flickering green eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or uncertainty. I could see that he was being honest.

This was no time for me to let our problems impact our survival. I had to let go of my higher-level concerns and understand that. The luxury of marital woes would have to wait.

Several collisions and other thumping sounds echoed around us. Gunshots rang out with rhythmic chaos.

"How much time do we have?" I asked.

"We can't stay here long-term. The generators will run for another eight hours or so to keep our dome, lights, and water on, but after that, we're sitting ducks. We'll have to figure out where to go."

Again, we heard screaming and pounding on the dome. I could tell that these were healthy people outside. Gunfire once again rang out.

"Bram!" I whispered fearfully, unable to quell the panic that was rising within me. "Tell me what to do." He held his finger up gesturing for me to wait.

I could tell he was listening to the voices surrounding us. When we recognized a whimper from a child's voice, Bram forced himself to his feet, leaned on the door for a moment, and raced outside. I could hear him shouting, trying to coordinate with the others.

"Shut off the dome, Alexandra!" I heard him yell. I ran to the emergency shut down in the closet with the breaker box. The disarm alarm sounded once to warn us that the dome was off.

I heard him begin to fire. There were aggressive growls followed by silence, then more guttural moans and cries. I cautiously crept to the door. When I looked outside, I could see the other humans trying to get in.

The crowd was a mixture of Noirs and humans dashing in different directions. When I raised the M4, my hands were uncontrollably shaking. I didn't dare shoot. There were children among the group, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if--

As I heard a young boy banging on our door, Bram shouted at me to turn the dome back on. I snapped out of my freeze response and rushed to the closet. I slammed the button, and I heard the dome electricity crack but nothing happened. I could see the boy outside staring at me. Then, one of the Noirs came sprinting toward him.

I watched as Bram emptied a magazine into the Noir. The boy screamed. I ran to the door and opened it as Bram provided suppressing fire. The boy fell into the entryway then Bram pulled him inside, slamming the door.

"The dome won't work?" Bram asked me frantically. I shook my head.

Now that he was close to me, I recognized our new guest as Jeffy, the neighbor boy of the Carlisle's. I could see Noir saliva on his face and his white T-shirt. The cartoon ghost on the shirt was splattered with black blotches. Jeffy loved Halloween.

"Get in the shower, Jeffy," Bram said panting as he bolted the front doors. He turned to me. "Put on your goggles and zip up your face mask. I'll start working on the dome."