by Stuart Keane
Julie chuckled. "What are the chances that Mia would stumble on this virus."
"High. The entire country is falling apart as we speak. You just happen to be in the know about it. The general public do not know of this, and will not before their … ahem, untimely demise. Or, maybe ever."
Julie placed a hand on Mr Wise's, and gripped it. "As I said, Mr Wise is an apt name. Keeping control by keeping secrets is always beneficial."
"What about Hannah's parents?" Mia interjected.
*****
You couldn’t save your sister from Oedema.
Just like you couldn’t save that mother and child.
Or your squad members.
How you couldn’t stop them, or your afflicted squad, from melting before your very eyes.
Shut up.
Oedema is unstoppable.
There's nothing I could do.
Oh, but you know that isn't true.
Luke tapped the Glock against his forehead, heard it slap the skin and clonk through his throbbing skull. He pushed the barrel against the sweaty skin, and fought the emerging pain as he continued to bore the metal into his flesh.
You know that isn't true.
There is a cure.
There is a cure.
*****
Julie turned to her daughter. "What about them?"
"Hannah's parents. They deserve to be saved, along with us." Mia turned to Mr Wise. "You're talking about saving people, yes?"
He nodded. "Indeed, my dear."
"Then Hannah's parents deserve to be saved too," Mia reiterated.
I disagree," Julie spat, all too quickly. "The less people who know, the better."
"It's two people, Mother."
"Yes, and it could be two people we hold dear, instead. Family members, loved ones."
"Their daughter saved my life. You owe them that."
Derek looked up, and smiled. "She has a point. Without them, Mia might not be sitting here now. She might not be warning us of this outbreak. It could have already consumed us." He turned to Mia and winked. "When did our daughter become so smart?"
Julie refused. "No, out of the question."
Mr Wise folded up the paper and pocketed it. "It's feasible. Like I said, you're one of the first I approached, due to your standing in the community. If you say yes, I can make it happen. I just have to knock two off the list, you know, people lower down the proverbial totem pole."
Julie looked at Mia, ignorant to her request. "Is this what you really want?"
The girl nodded. "Yes."
"Okay then. Mr Wise, what do we do? How does this proceed."
"First, we need to contact the parents … get them here, and have them agree to the protocol. I'm sure your wealth and stern security can persuade them."
"Obviously," Julie answered. "And then?"
"Then, we go into hiding, and wait for the cure to be administered."
*****
There is a cure.
There is a cure, and you are it.
Mr Luke Barrett.
A walking miracle, according to her Majesty's finest. The perfect host for a dormant antidote, a feasible cure, one that can be contracted from the DNA in your blood. Administering the cure is key for those infected by Oedema, and the window is slim, but it's possible to save lives. It's a permanent solution too, one that allows them to drink Oedema-infected water – all they have to do is sign up for the yearly vaccinations.
The only curse you had was persistent headaches.
PTSD?
No. This is causing it. You're the carrier of man's last hope.
And hope they shall…
*****
"Hiding?"
Mr Wise nodded. "Yes, Mrs Ainsworth. We have built secure facilities, underground, where the water is untainted, but stocks can only last a set amount of time. Oedema is special in the fact it adheres to the chemical footprint of water itself – it never goes away, and it cannot be eradicated by filters or traditional means. So, we use the only other option. Vaccination. A cure is required to be able to drink the water that possesses this bond with the virus, and that's how we administer this protocol. The virus attacks the immune system, so we simply insert the cure into that same immune system, and it counters it."
"Fascinating," Julie replied.
"Science is beautiful, isn’t it?"
Julie smiled. "So, we have to stay underground?"
"Yes, until the initial panic wears off. In time, we can start again, minus a few billion people. Communities will be rebuilt, law restored, the world reset. Just think how blissful that will be, and with your money, starting from scratch will not be a problem. The wealthy always find a way, and people's tax money has always had a habit of keeping us safe."
Derek looked at Mr Wise. "You missed out one thing."
"I did?"
"The cure. Where is it?"
"Within one of our finest. Let me explain…"
*****
And hope they shall.
This cure didn’t benefit me in any way. My sister is dead, her husband is dead, my men are dead, and it's all because of Oedema.
Luke stared at his blood-soaked hands.
I could have prevented this – all of it. Instead, I failed, because I kept my mouth shut. I failed everyone I ever loved, and people who relied on me. I provided false hope to those who needed it, and had nothing when their time on this planet came.
I've been a servant for my entire adult life.
No more.
It stops now.
I have nothing left to live for. Not anymore.
*****
Mr Wise smiled. "We recruited a team of soldiers, ten in all, to become human lab rats for the potential Oedema cure. They carried it in their blood for a few months and were exposed to the virus in a rigorous training exercise. Unfortunately, only one man survived that horrific incident, and became our sole hope for a cure."
Julia and Derek nodded.
"But, he's part of the Army, we watch him and control him, and he's trained for even the toughest of combat. He's a survivor, and one of our own … all we have to do is bring him in."
"One man holds the hope for the whole of humanity. Surely that's a bit risky, right?" Julia added.
"Yes, but we had to keep the virus under the radar, a secret. The less that knew, the better, for all involved. Few mouths and confidentiality clauses proposed by the British Army, equals silence."
Derek nodded. Mia took his hand in hers, and closed her eyes.
Mr Wise clutched at his lapels. "Besides, we're the wealthy. Everyone does our bidding, right? We are at the top of the food chain."
Derek laughed. "So, when does our saviour get here?"
"My men are on their way to collect him now."
*****
And if the government has the gall to think I'm submitting my body to distribute a cure, if they think I'm signing up to be a glorified pin cushion or blood donor, they have another thing coming.
Oedema is their creation.
And it shouldn’t be allowed to exist, it's development shouldn’t go unpunished with a cure.
They need to think of what they've done, be accountable for their actions.
Everyone is, remember?
Luke held the Glock to his temple, cocked the hammer, and stared down Elm Avenue. Saw nothing but empty structures and silence, as if the world had deserted him. In the distance, the unmistakable throb of a military helicopter started to batter at the morning sky.
They're coming.
Well, it's too late. They deserted me.
They deserted you the day you signed on to provide a cure.
He closed his eyes, saluted with his free hand, and counted down.
Three.
Goodbye, Nicky.
Two.
Goodbye, men. It was an honour serving you.
One.
Goodbye.
He stared at the approaching helicopter and pulled the trigger.
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Stuart Keane, Oedema: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel
