The Sickening King (The Grid 2)

by Amy Cross

  Finding it too painful to breathe deeply, I take a few short, sharp breaths.

  "You were so badly dehydrated," the man continues, "some of your organs almost completely dried out. Fortunately I was able to flush your body with a rapid-action formula that seems to have helped heal most of the damage, but you're going to be in a lot of pain for a while. In fact, I was thinking I'd just knock you out for a couple of days to save you the agony. I'll bring you back around on Thursday or Friday, okay?"

  I open my mouth, but it hurts too much to speak. I feel another pain in my shoulder.

  "Don't worry," the man says. "You'll feel a lot better when you wake up. I'm sure you've got a lot of questions, I'll answer them all once you can talk. Oh, and by the way, my name's Dominic. Dominic Stratten. You can tell me your name later".

  I feel the drugs working throughout my system. Although I try to fight the anaesthetic, I quickly start sinking back into the darkness. The last thing I remember thinking is that if I don't wake up again, at least I won't have to face the pain again.

  Tuesday.

  Wednesday.

  Thursday.

  Friday.

  Saturday.

  I open my eyes again. Something's different. Something... I don't know what, but I'm immediately struck by the sensation that something has changed. I'm still staring up at the same metal ceiling, but I don't feel like there's anyone around me this time. Slowly, I move my hands and find that there's almost no pain, just a little soreness. Carefully, I sit up and find I'm on a metal table in the middle of a small dark room. The only light comes from a narrow, horizontal slit window at the top of the wall, and it looks like the sun is low in the early evening sky.

  "Hello?" I call out, my voice echoing slightly.

  Nothing.

  "Dominic?" I call, hoping that the guy from last time might be around.

  But no.

  Nothing.

  I get to my feet and it's only then that I realise I'm completely naked. I look around, hoping to find something to wear, but there's nothing. In fact, the room is noticeably bare, as if it has been deliberately stripped of anything except the metal table, and even that seems to be bolted to the floor.

  I walk over to the door but, of course, it's locked. It's a thick-looking, heavy metal door with no window, and I'm pretty sure there's no way I can break it open. I try the handle again, and a terrifying thought strikes me. What if I'm trapped here? What if something bad has happened, and I'm left trapped in this little room forever? I'd end up starving to death. I put a hand up to touch the skin over my ribs. Not too thin. I guess Dominic has been keeping me fed. And since he saved my life, I guess I shouldn't be too suspicious of him.

  Suddenly there's a banging sound and a small slot in the wall opens, just about big enough for a pair of eyes to look through at me. I immediately recognise that they're not Dominic's eyes.

  "Hi," I say.

  The eyes stare at me. I put an arm across my breasts and another over my crotch.

  "Can I get out of here?" I ask.

  The eyes just stare.

  "I'm cold," I say. "And hungry. Where's Dominic?"

  The eyes keep on staring.

  "My name's Emma," I say. "I want to get out of here. Where's Dominic?"

  As suddenly as it opened, the slot in the wall is slammed shut.

  "Hey!" I shout, running to the door and banging against it. "Let me out of here!"

  I wait.

  Nothing.

  I turn and head over to the little window. It's too high to see out of properly, but I manage to reach up and grab the ledge, hauling myself up far enough to get a glimpse outside. To my surprise, I see what seems to be a concrete yard, with a metal fence at the far end, and desert beyond that. I have no idea where I am, but it looks like some kind of official facility. Seeing a small building off to one side, I try to make out the sign on the wall and just as I realise it features a nuclear warning symbol, I lose my grip and fall to the ground, landing awkwardly on my wrist and hearing a snapping sound.

  I shout out in pain.

  "Fuck!" I mutter, finding that I can't move my hand. "Fuck fuck fuck". Figuring I must have broken the wrist, I get to my feet just as the slot in the wall opens and the eyes reappear. "Help me," I say, holding my wrist out. "I've broken it".

  The eyes stare at me, and then the slot closes.

  I wait, feeling an intense throbbing pain from the broken bone.

  Suddenly there's a heavy clanking sound and the door opens to reveal Dominic, walking in with what looks like a medical bag. Putting the bag on the table, he smiles at me.

  "So," he says, acting as if nothing strange is happening, "shall we take a look and see the damage?"

  I immediately run towards the door, but another man appears in the way and pushes me back. I just have time to recognise that this is the man whose eyes were looking at me, before I crash to the floor, banging my wrist again and yelping in pain. I get to my feet just as the door is slammed shut.

  "Don't bother," Dominic says.

  I turn to him.

  "Seriously," he says. "There's no way to get out of this room unless we... unless I decide it's safe for you to do so. So don't bother trying to fight your way out".

  "Why isn't it safe?" I ask, close to tears as the pain in my wrist gets worse and worse. "What's out there?"

  "I don't mean safe for you to leave, I mean safe for us if you're free. We're not entirely sure about you yet".

  "There's nothing wrong with me," I say.

  "Let me fix your wrist," he says. "Then we can talk".

  I walk over to the table and let him examine my wrist. I feel kind of self-conscious, considering I'm completely naked. "Can I get some clothes or something?" I ask.

  "Soon," he replies, putting pressure on my wrist. I gasp in pain. "Sorry," he adds. "It's not broken, just fractured. I'll give you some support for it. It's not strictly necessary, but the fracture's in an awkward place and I want to make sure it heals properly, or you'll have limited mobility". He grabs a roll of bandages from his bag. "Little injuries can have big consequences if they're not fixed properly".

  "Why can't I have clothes?" I ask.

  "Because I need to be able to see every inch of you," he says, unrolling the bandage and cutting off a section. "You might start to get the rash anywhere on your body, and I want to be able to see it as soon as it appears. But don't worry, another couple of days and you're out of the danger zone".

  I let him bandage my wrist, even thought it hurts. "The danger zone?" I ask.

  "You might be infected," he says. "We still don't understand the mechanism of infection, or how it develops in the early days. I'm sorry, but you're something of a guinea pig right now but, hey, don't worry. One way or the other, everything's going to be okay".

  I watch as he wraps the bandage tightly around my wrist and tapes it down. "Where am I?" I ask.

  "Oakland Westfield nuclear facility, sector B," he says.

  "Nuclear?" I ask. "Is it safe here?"

  "Extremely," he says. "The facility was offline when the magnetic wave hit, so the reactor was dormant. The buildings are all shielded from low-level environmental radiation, so this is actually, quite possibly, the safest place in America right now". He finishes with the bandage. "There," he says. "That should hold you".

  "How many people are here?" I ask.

  "Seven," he says. "Plus you".

  "Seven?" I ask. I pause. "Where's everyone else?"

  "Outside," he says. "Dying. All across America. Radiation sickness, mostly. But... like I said, there's something else. Some other kind of sickness".

  "Those people," I say. "The ones who were chasing me... It seemed like they were dead, but they weren't dead".

  Dominic starts packing his bag back together. "The primary manifestation of the sickness occurs a few hours after death. The body becomes reanimated and seeks out food sources, which in many cases turns out to be living humans".

  "Like zombies?" I ask.
>
  He smiles. "Not really," he says. "Zombies are supernatural creatures, like vampires or werewolves. They don't exist. This sickness has its roots in science. If you want my opinion, it's some kind of parasite that is experiencing rapid development due to the increased levels of environmental radiation. We'll know for sure soon, after we carry out a dissection on a live victim".

  I stare at him.

  "Relax," he says. "We have a live victim already. You should be fine. In a few days, I'll let you out of here and give you some clothes. It should be fine".

  "Should be..." I say.

  He heads to the door and opens it, stepping out of the room before turning back to me. "Should be," he says. "I hope so. What did you say your name was again?"

  "Emma," I say.

  "Nice name," he says. "I'll get some books and magazines sent in for you, and I'll make sure you get a good meal. I'm sorry you have to be confined in here a little longer, but I'll try to make it as comfortable as possible". He slams the door shut and I hear the lock slide across. I look down at my bandaged wrist, and I can't help thinking that I've arrived at the end of the world and there's nowhere to go now but straight over the edge. The only question is whether to cling on for as long as possible, or whether to jump. Either way, I can't help feeling the end result will be the same: death, and oblivion. Not just for me, but for the whole human race.

  Chapter Four

  Just as he promised, Dominic has some books and magazines sent for me to read, and I get three meals a day. I spend most of my time sitting on the metal table, reading, but occasionally I have to go through to a little side-room where there's a toilet and shower. It's not ideal, but things could be worse and it's better than when I was living out with the others in the desert. I feel a little claustrophobia sitting in this room for so long, but it helps to know that there are other people in the building and, although I don't really have much of a choice, I figure I can trust Dominic. He seems like a nice guy, like a guy who actually cares.

  Finally, after what feels like almost a week, Dominic returns and tells me I'm free to leave the room as soon as he's checked me for any signs of a rash. I have to stand in the middle of the room while he examines every inch of my naked body. It feels strange to have him examining me, especially when he gets to some of my more intimate areas, but eventually he smiles and says that I seem to be healthy. He gives me a tunic to wear, some kind of medical gown, and tells me to join him in one of the rooms down the corridor. When he goes out of the room, he leaves the door open for me.

  "Just in time," he says, as I enter the the room at the other end of the corridor a few minutes later. As well as Dominic, there are six other people in the room, and I'm briefly introduced to them but I don't manage to catch any of their names. Finally, Dominic ushers us all into another room where I'm shocked to see another person strapped to a table. This person is like the ones who chased me, looking like he's long dead and with wounds and chunks of rotten flesh.

  "We call him Bob," says Dominic, as Bob struggles to get free from the table. "He died just outside the gate to the facility. Vultures got parts of him, but we chased them away and we've been monitoring him ever since. Now we're ready to open him up and check on a theory". Dominic smiles at me. "It's up to you, you don't have to watch. It might not be pleasant, but I wanted to give you the chance".

  "It's fine," I say, not wanting to seem weak. I look at Bob's face, and his eyes stare at me.

  Dominic grabs a small electric saw and switches it on. "I'm going to expose his brain," he says.

  "While he's still alive?" I ask, shocked.

  "He's not alive," says a women standing on the other side of the table. She looks like she's in her mid-40s, and she has a kind face. "We've done extensive research and there's no sign that these creatures feel pain at all. They walk, they seek food, but pain doesn't seem to be a factor in their experience at all".

  Dominic starts grinding Bob's skull open and soon he's able to lift off the dome of bone to reveal Bob's bloodied brain. Bob is still struggling to get free from the restraints, but the woman seems to be right: he doesn't appear to be showing any sign of experiencing pain.

  "Another evolutionary advantage," the bearded man in the corner says. "No pain".

  "Pain's useful," the woman says. "Pain helps us avoid danger".

  "What if there's no danger?" the man replies. "What if these things are so good at surviving, they don't have to worry about danger?"

  "Thoughts?" Dominic says, staring at the exposed brain.

  "Looks normal," the woman says.

  "Check the diencephalon," a bearded man says. "That's where it'll be if it's in there. It'll need to have burrowed deep".

  Dominic puts the saw down. "Sorry, Bob," he says, "but I think this might be the point at which we have to say farewell". Bob continues to struggle as Dominic uses his bare hands to slowly break his brain into two halves. Even in this state, Bob seems to be slightly conscious as Dominic uses his fingers to poke about in his brain. His eyes rolling up in their sockets, Bob is nevertheless still twitching.

  "I see it," Dominic says finally, grabbing a pair of tweezers. He pokes around a little more before finally extracting a small worm from the centre of the brain, and Bob finally stops moving. Small but angry-looking, the worm seems to be trying to get away from the tweezers.

  "We were right," the bearded man says.

  "Environmental radiation must have triggered a mutation," the woman says.

  Dominic turns to me. The worm twitches and turns in the tweezers, trying to escape. "Do you know what this is?" he asks.

  "Do I want to know?" I ask tentatively, hoping he doesn't bring the thing any closer to me.

  "It's a parasite. Basically a fairly common type of worm that lives in the gut of animals, including some humans. But the increase in environmental radiation has caused a mutation that allows the worm to burrow into the brain of a dead human and assume control of the motor functions".

  "So -" I start to say, but he moves the worm towards me and I step back. "No thanks," I say, "I've just eaten". I look at the worm, which is a couple of inches long and seems pretty active. "So those people who were following me, they really were dead?"

  Dominic nods. "The worms were hitching a ride, using the dead bodies to get about. Much more efficient that being a normal worm. This is evolution in action. In many ways, we're quite privileged to be able to see this".

  "But the radiation -" I start to say.

  "Bad for humans, great for these worms," Dominic says. "As things stand, I don't see any reason why our species should be able to remain dominant. These guys are the future, although they need us around so that they have bodies to steal. It's a perfect symbiotic relationship, at least from their point of view".

  "It's creepy," says the woman. "That's what it is. Kill it".

  "No," Dominic says, walking back over to Bob's dead body. "I want to try something". He carefully inserts the worm back into the brain. Moments later, Bob begins to move again.

  "For fuck's sake," the woman says, "that's ghoulish".

  "It's the natural world," Dominic says. "It's the way the planet works. It's fascinating to see how much damage the host body can sustain, and the worm is still able to use it. Such an adaptable little creature". He leans close to Bob's face. "Hey, Bob," he says. "Can you hear me?"

  "He's dead," says the bearded man.

  "I know," Dominic says, "but the worm isn't. And I'm wondering if the worm has control of Bob's speech functions". He pauses. "Hello Bob," he says.

  Bob, still struggling with the restraints, stares back at Dominic.

  "Hello, Bob," Dominic says again.

  Bob tries to get free, but he can't.

  "Hello, Bob," Dominic says for a third time.

  "Hello, Bob," Bob says back to him.

  Dominic turns to the others. "Simple mimicry for now," he says, "but I have no doubt they can learn more over time. They can become smarter and they can start to communicate".
<
br />   I stare at Bob, and suddenly I feel a horrible sensation in my stomach. It takes me a moment to realise I'm about to vomit, and I just manage to get to the bin in time, vomiting my lunch back up. The woman comes over and helps me to keep my hair back.

  "It's not that disgusting," Dominic says. "Think about the human brain. It's really just a parasite, hooked into the rest of the body, using it. The worm isn't doing too much different, is it?"

  "It's not that disgusting," Bob suddenly repeats. "Think about the..." He pauses, apparently unable to remember the rest of the sentence.

  "That's sentient life," Dominic says slowly. "The worms are evolving, and given the nature of their susceptibility to radiation, we can expect the process to speed up. We have no way of predicting what they'll become next, but one thing's for sure. These worms are far better suited to surviving in the world right now than we are. They're the new dominant species, or they will be soon. And we're... we're the old guard. We're the dinosaurs. We changed our world so that we could no longer survive without technology, and now the technology is gone. These things are the future". He peers closely at the worm, which can still be seen wriggling in Bob's brain. "We have to expect the pace of their evolution to be rapid".

  Silence descends upon the room for a moment.

  "Evolution to be rapid," Bob says, still copying what the others are saying. He stares directly at me. "Evolution to be rapid," he says to me. "Evolution to be..." He stops. Again, his limited memory means he's forgotten what he was saying.

  "What can we do to stop this?" the woman asks. "What can we do to stop these things taking over the world?"

  Dominic takes a deep breath. "I don't think there's anything we can do at all".

  Chapter Five

  As Dominic conducts some more tests on Bob, the others disperse to get on with their own work and I find myself loitering in the corridor, not sure what I'm supposed to do. There's such a strange atmosphere at this place, it's hard to work out what's really going on. They seem so calm and collected, so confident, yet they seem resigned to the idea that pretty soon they're all going to die. But I feel like I can't share their fatalism, because there's a part of me that thinks I have to keep searching to try to find a way to survive this. So although I feel safe here, for now, I also feel like I have to get moving. If I stay here, I'll be safe for a few weeks but then I'll definitely die; if I try to get out of here, I'll be in much more danger but at least I'll have a chance of surviving. For now, though, I feel totally lost and alone. Fortunately, the woman from earlier spots me and comes over.