Disease X

by Garrett Williams

  The memories flashed in a brilliant white, in sync with the single rising of the firearm in his grasp. Changing angles and direction, the tool of violence closed in on the side of Alex. The cold steel pressed his temple and left an uneasy chill up and down his being. The sounds of agony filled his ears until his mind had finally gone blank. His ears had deafened, his vision blurred from white light. Delsin, beside him, was loading another shot when he finally acknowledged his young friend.

  “Don’t do it!” he screamed but his voice could no longer reach where he was now. His mind had blurred to darkness until he realized that the reason is only because he had shut his eyes. Then a single image appeared before him, a humanoid figure. It appeared slim to him, almost feminine. It appeared older, much more mature than Julie. The figure bathed in blinding light walked gently toward the boy and knelt by his side. It touched his face, the touch felt so familiar to him. So warm. Alex thought to himself. The figure carried a blissful air with it wherever it went. Then the feminine figure slid to the other side of Alex’s face, then whispered.

  “It’s time to come home”…Then a loud bang.

  …A sharp pain pronged into the Alex’s arm as steel punctured is elbow. The force threw his arm back against the vehicle and flung his pistol over the car. The image of the white figure was gone. It had faded away, along with the darkness that had surrounded them both. The sounds of agony filled his ears once again. His eyes opened and water from the heavens flooded his eye sockets. He swung his eyes around and stared into the foreign object. It was a single pointed clump of alloys with one of the two points buried deep into the skin of the inside of his elbow.

  Delsin witnessed the event and cried out, “Crap! Take it out!” Delsin had run around the vehicle into open fire to avoid whatever new fate had awaited the boy. Alex grabbed his arm in pain and cringed at it sight of it. Through the sounds of battle he now heard a new sound, a small faint bleeping. The sound grew louder and the beat quickened with Alex’s heart. Then ceased…the alloys dispersed from his arm and all that remained was a single small piece from that had been concealed. He looked up at the cloud of metallic fairies that danced around him. A single bright red light illuminated from his arm and emitted a loud single drone. The area surrounding Alex had faded to blur and gone mute, drowned out by the device.

  Then the crimson light faded and a bright, emerald green replaced the hue. The droning had ceased and Alex shut his eyes in fear. The fairies that danced around him halted, then shot down into him. The metal pierced his flesh, he wanted to scream in agony. His throat filled with his own life fluid until it had bubbled out of his mouth. Then a loud boom ended his pain. Dust flew and Delsin was knocked back. The vehicle had been launched and flipped upside down, the windows smashed and the single door obliterated. Debris and rock fell from the sky around the boy. Dust and grime masked the remains of the blast. It was a deeper fog within the fog assaulted by precipitation.

  Delsin had been knocked off his feet and onto his back. He looked up to see what remained of his ally. The curtain concealing the end result of the reaction slowly lifted until a blurred figure remained. Delsin rushed to his side, only to be shot in the kneecap and fall on his chest a mere four feet from the figure. He looked up and saw a soldier unlike any other. He was white and grey and bore a black helmet. He had no visor. Delsin could identify him as an African American man. He rushed from the sulfur fog with his weapon readied. The tag on his uniform bore the label Sgt. Arlington. On his shoulder he bore what had been the symbol of the Purge corp. A single black wing closely sided by its brother the white.

  Delsin looked around for his rifle but was unsuccessful. Until he noticed a single holster that the figure still held. The holster cradled a single pistol. Without thinking he yanked the weapon from its cradle and rose to his feet. He limped on his wounded knee and raised his new weapon. Through the barely visible fog he had been struck once again in his shoulder. Delsin fell to the ground as the soldier advanced toward him at a high speed. The soldier sprinted at him, rifle still drawn until he was halted by two shots from Delsin’s inclined position, once in the chest, once in the lower jaw. He fell with a loud thump. He had fallen at the hands of a fellow healthy.

  Delsin scrambled painfully to his feet, his shoulder was stained with red along with his kneecap. He limped over to the cloud of dust as his ally had gone silent since then. He grabbed his shoulder as he made his way to him and the cloud had begun to disperse. He looked into the dissipating dust, and was mortified.

  “Ah, Christ…” he said to himself, staring into the blurred figure. He could do nothing for him, all that he could hope for now was that others had survived and that they could escape. He squinted his eyes but could not get the image out of his mind. The boy lay on a field of cerise, his right arm, the one that had been struck by the projectile was no more, and neither was his right leg. Part of his right torso had been completely obliterated. Cerise flowed from him like a great river, both eye balls bled out from their eye sockets. He twitched, he did not have much strength left in him to even speak.

  His lungs and gullet flooded with fluids. The only thing to censor the remains of his rights side, were the ribbons of clothing that had been coming loose as the wind blew and the rain fell. Small droplets floated atop of his rose colored fluids. His crimson eyes grew tiresome, his face lay on its side for Delsin to only see one, and it had been as though he simply wanted to sleep. Crimson flowed from his mouth, he couldn’t speak. Delsin took one last sorrowful look at the young man, then limped off as swiftly as his maltreated body would allow.

  Alex’s vision blurred in and out as he watched his friend fade into the haze. He coughed more fluids into the pool he so bathed himself in. A single tear generated in his eye facing the grey, bleak sky and streaked down his nose and down his other cheek into the bath. He had been left alone to hear the sounds once again. And in his face in the middle of the chaos, the white figure appeared to him again. She crouched down onto her knees and stroked his bloody cheek. Memories of Julie flashed in his mind, along with memories of the Immortals that he had met. He had begun to hate himself. The memory the man he shot flashed into his mind. When he had finally forgotten it, the man had come back to haunt him. His red pupil gazed up at the woman and found that she had crimson orbs.

  He choked on his own fluids as the memories of the birthdays he had, the friends he made, the single friend he had with him through his entire life. He blinked painfully just once and in that instance, the woman in white was gone. He felt alone again. Then again, he was always alone, since the beginning. He always felt differently than anyone else in his school, or in his life even.

  He did everything by himself, yet he was still a coward. He was spineless. It was always his dear friend Julie who risked her neck for him. He didn’t blame her if she hated him now. All he knew was that he hated the people who hurt him and his friends, no, his family. Why…? He thought to himself as the tides of iron rose into his mouth, the sounds of gunfire all around him. He recounted the murders he had witnessed over the few days. The majority of which he did not partake in. He saw the brutal murder of the bearded man in the museum. He remembered the hole that had formed in his chest. He remembered the thief that had taken his food, only to be struck down by the reaper.

  Perhaps the most avoidable, if he had done something, was the murder of Merrick. He knew in his heart then that he hated humans…and himself. He detested whatever he had become. He knew why people don’t want to be healthy, because they could be so much greater. His eye lids grew heavier as his rage grew. His vision blurred in and out as the world around him disappeared as though it were on a stage. He had nothing more than hate for humanity, especially those who were meant to protect their people. Even they were too cowardly to storm the base and kill Merrick. Nothing…but growing hate and power inside of him…until his world faded away.

  XIII

  Exile

  The sputter and bubbling of water filling a puddle drifted
into an adolescent’s ear. Meanwhile her acquainting and so far benevolent captor sat behind her, staring out into the grey oblivion, minding his own thoughts. Through the babbling and soothing cataracts from the heavens pierced the booming of thunder, as well as the popping of nearby conflict. The building had been positioned, almost strategically, above the dying behemoth. She could hardly see through the dense fog that invaded the mouth. All she could do was stare down and listen to the screeching, in sync with the sounds bubbling water.

  The adolescent almost felt pity for the survivors fighting to keep breathing another day. She sat down and let her feet dangle over the edge of the giants head. She sat still and her blue eyes continued to watch silently. She had become soaked in the water that assaulted her but she paid no mind to it, her focus was forced onto the event in front of her. Her captor, or rather savior, swerved his head mindlessly toward her and reality had set in on him again. He looked at the back of her dripping blonde hair that had become more like the color of muddy water.

  “You know you might catch a cold like that. I have a place we can go to stay dry,” The savior informed. He received no reply. A moment ago she was desperate, nearly passed out on the ground for the second time, now she was intoxicated in the behemoths slow process. She simply kept staring down as though she were in a trance. Her captor rose to his feet, he was almost completely clad in black along with a grey scarf and pitch dark goggles resting atop his head. He moseyed over to her calmly and knelt down behind her. The adolescent acknowledged his existence, but communication had been far from her mind, until she realized an important event. Before the savior could lay his hand on her shoulder, she turned and asked.

  “Levi, why were you in the Yellow Zone?” the boy was shocked by her sudden movement and stood back to his feet and replied.

  “Looking for supplies.”

  “How did you get past the borders?”

  “I flew,” He said plainly.

  The adolescent looked down, back at the carnage with this new information and fantasies filled her head with vivid imagery. She imagined that if they were by some miracle to help the poor souls in the haze, they could perhaps just fly away with them. She remembered hearing children within the shrill voices that echoed through the seemingly barren landscape. More than likely, the people were attempting to shield themselves from whatever awaited them during the aftermath of the chaos. That or they simply wanted to have a safe place to watch it unfold alongside the adolescent. The captor looked around her side and stared at her face for half a second. He drew back and sighed as he had already been prepared to explain to her why whatever she would ask him he refused.

  “Hey, do you think – “

  “Why?”

  “Huh?” The adolescent then stood and looked confused. She stood precariously over the ledge as though she were ready to jump back first into the fray. The boy with her placed his palm over his eyes and stated.

  “Why on earth would you try to help some people that you don’t even know even when you’ve been through hell yourself? You just got out of one ring of it only to be thrown into a deeper one.” The girl knew that she would never be able to answer Levi. Even if she did tell him exactly why she thought she needed to help, he wouldn’t understand anyway. Levi let his palm fall back limp at his side, expecting an answer. The girl stared at him confused at his question when she was really trying to convince him that they had something he might want.

  “You’ve been around places, and you know some people, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then is there someone down there in trouble? With the time you may have been in here, surely you must care for that person.”

  Levi’s expression changed for no more than two seconds then fell back to his stoic façade. The girl felt as though she made progress, until he replied somberly.

  “It’s not my business, if you want to go down there so be it.”

  The girl, although shocked at the boy’s heartless proposal, noticed a small sting of pain in his voice and in his eyes, almost as though he were ashamed.

  “I’m not stupid, I can read you like a book. You have someone down there don’t you?” she said in a sudden tone that made her appear as though she were twice his age.

  “Heather, right? If you want to die be my guest, but leave me out of it.” This coming from the same person that had fed her crisped potato skins and took a softer approach earlier made Heather feel as though a blade had been plunged into her breast. It was true that she did not even know any more than the boy’s name, but the gesture of saving her when her own prison mate Gabriela abandoned her meant the world to her in retrospect. She also remembered that she still hadn’t properly thanked him for her life.

  The truth was that even she did not know why she felt such a strong urge to help, it was just an emotional feeling. She sat helplessly watching a dying animal from her shelter with the sky boy, despite having the ability the end the suffering and perhaps spare the animals life. She assisted in the metamorphosis of at least twenty or so men back at the pen of a business home. Shedding the shell to either become a moth or a butterfly.

  The boy crossed his arms and made his way back to the bag that contained the items that had nourished Heather from her state of weakness. Heather swept back around and stared at the dying beast a final time. Flame erupted from the mouth as it burned from the inside out. The precipitation would never suffice to heal the burns alone. Levi, in the background, had marshalled whatever sustenance had eluded the plastic bag and placed them within the prison. Heather turned back around and made her way back to him.

  As she walked she noticed a small door leading down the old building from the inside that she had been planning to use. She made up her mind, she had nothing left to lose. Her family might never see her again, and neither would her friends. Every person that had been in the zones that she had met only deceived or abandoned her. She came up close to the boy and caught him by surprise with what she did to him next. She took one hand and leaned him back by the shoulder and planted a small peck of her limps on the side of his face.

  “Thanks for before. Goodbye Levi,” She said to him from behind, then she walked from him. The boy slung his bag over his shoulder confused, and turned to face soaking her back again. He watched her open the door and disappear behind it. He lifted his free hand to the side she had planted her lips on and placed his fingers gently on him. He looked down, embarrassed at himself as his face turned to a quiet and subtle shade of red. He looked up at the door again and said more to himself than to her, with regret for not speaking it earlier.

  “See you in the next life, kid.” With his final farewell, he moseyed to the ledge of the giant facing away from the event and leaped. He flew off into the grey and watery oblivion…never looking back.

  … Heather reappeared out of the giant’s foot after working through its innards. She stepped back onto the pavement and the downpour soaked her once again. She took small steps away from the giant that offered safety and from the boy who had saved her. The sounds of despair edged closer and closer to her as she approached the haze. She walked a mere fifty feet from the foot to the haze. As she approached the haze, the sounds roared ferociously and her mind clouded with confusion. Her body was ever evanescent as the haze soon swallowed her. Her white sleeveless jacket had lost its shine as the water soaking her attracted the soot that filled the air and her lungs.

  She stopped and coughed twice before carrying on. Her hand had already been bathed in black powder and when she brought it to her face she left a faint handprint. The handprint sprawled across her face only to be slowly wiped away by the abundant waters. She looked out through the haze and noticed a faint glimmer beyond the oblivion. It hung low and had a brilliant bright orange and red growing in strength as the oblivion crept from it slowly. The deafening sounds of screams and gunfire beckoned her to quicken her pace. She did as they had commanded, and her steady walk had grown to a confused run. She stumbled about, tripping on debris an
d shells. She caught a glimpse of one man when she fell, his face contorted in shock as though he had not foreseen the inevitable.

  She scrambled to her feet at the expression of the empty shell and nearly fell back again when she finally rose. She sprinted across the stone field, her hands over her head and bowed as though in reverence, but rather for fear and safety. Her hands caved around her ears but to no avail. The sounds pursued her relentlessly like a wolf pursues prey. The haze grew thicker with every pop in the air and with every scream as she remembered the people that were taken from her. Her own family surely must have not wanted anything to do with her now that they know what had happened to her. She thought perhaps, that the only reason she was there was because of what she had said earlier to Levi, perhaps she wished to die.

  Her marathon of physical and memorial proportions had come to halt when, without raising her head to look, she rammed another person. They both fell and the stranger fell with a womanly grunt. Heather sat down and tried to rise to her feet when she noticed a small child had collapsed with her. Heather, confused and afraid, ran past them deeper into the haze. She glanced back, then stopped to inspect further. Behind her was the stranger that she had tackled, only beyond her was the silhouette of a man with a weapon. Heather looked down at the woman and the small child, then returned her gaze to the man that stood over them. He held a single pistol in his right hand and he slowly drew it upon the downed duo. Time seemed to stand still, Heather had disarmed the two, and she felt responsible in a way.