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“Somewhere in a lonely hotel room, There’s a guy starting to realize, That eternal fate has turned its back on him. It’s 2 AM.” Golden Earring, When the Bullet Hits the Bone I stare at the computer screen for a moment, the warm hue of the blue background making me smile with strained hope. I reach out with my fingers and touch the keys, staring at the display. Nothing happens. I look again for a mouse, but find no implement. I breathe out through my teeth, trying to stay calm. I stare at the keyboard, comforted that I at least recognize the characters. I hit escape. Which does nothing. I bend down, squatting in front of the screen, as if the different perspective of staring up at the screen rather than down on it will change things. I place my fingers on the keyboard like I was taught in middle school so long ago. And I stare. It doesn’t take long before I’m overcome with the sound of nothing. I forget for a moment about the computer screen and just listen. I can hear the hum of the electric lights. If I squint, I can hear the flashing red bulbs of the warning signals outside. I can hear the cold air, clasping frigidly to the blood and body on Anton’s chair. But what scares me more is what I can’t hear. I can’t hear any airplanes. I can’t hear any telephones. I can’t hear any birds. I can’t hear any voices. I can’t hear any steps. When I swallow again, the act of doing so startles me, to add that sound to the short list of what I can hear. I touch the keyboard and hit the letter keys. Nothing. I hit the number keys. Nothing. I hit the F keys. Nothing. Almost by accident, I hit the window key. The start menu opens up. I nearly convulse, I lean forward so fast. I scroll up and down with the arrow keys, and then lock onto the internet explorer icon. I hit enter. This Page Can Not Be Displayed “Damn it,” I curse. I hit the window key again. This time, I access the programs window, somewhat taken back when it spreads out over most of the screen. I search in vein through the program list, knowing that I don’t know what any of them are. But I still search, hoping that something will jump out at me. ‘Internal Message System’ My eyes go wide. I scroll over it and activate the system. I jump the instant I hear the female voice. I throw myself back against the bookshelves, throwing my hands up defensively. “Dr Wilson,” says the disembodied, ageless female voice, “you have three new messages.” I lower my shaking hands, staring at the computer screen. I listen. And I listen. And I listen. And I listen. And I listen. And I listen. And then I listen some more. No breaths. No yelling or screaming. No steps. Maybe they didn’t hear. I look at the computer screen. Three messages are in bold. They’re new. I move down to the three and hit enter. Dr Wilson, Please be informed that at 11:34 today, an emergency has occurred in one of the labs. There is no cause for alarm but the facility will be locking down at 12:00. Thank you. I hit for the next message. Anton, you were right. The containment on Project 525 was insufficient. The cells are too violent and they responded negatively with the vectors we used to administer the new chemicals. I have put all the data up onto the system. It is imperative that you get out of here with the data and at least one of the derivative samples. All our current work has shown that Project 525 and the master project are not viable without a psychological inhibitor. The cells are too unstable. The lab is currently undergoing a lockdown. Do NOT release the lockdown under any circumstances. Not for a day, not for a year. Not for a decade. Not until a way to kill these cells is found. Until they can be killed, they can’t be stopped or even contained. The project must not move forward until containment can be assured. I’m trusting you, Anton. Get the data and the remaining samples and lock down all of 04. Seal it off and never ever let anyone into this place, ever again. - Justin I sit back from the computer, staring. My mind slowly goes numb. I fall back against the bookshelves, trying hard to breathe. “The whole place is locked down,” I whisper. “And I’m stuck in here. With some kind of virus.” I look down at my arms. “I wonder if I’m infected?” I ask randomly. I snicker to myself. “Probably.” I slide down against the ground and prop my head back. “I guess I shouldn’t try to leave then.” I sit for a long time, just basking in the warmth of the breeze coming down from the skylight. I look up, seeing the darkness of the night sky. I can’t see any stars, or the moon for that matter, but it doesn’t bother me. I rub my neck, pretending at least the stiffness I feel matters. When I pull my hand back, I stare at it for a moment. I study every tiny line as if the hand is not my own. A strange sadness comes over me as I just sit. I glance over at Anton and let my head fall back. For a moment, I let the thoughts swirl around my mind. I think softly about nothing, instead just letting the distant silence cake up on my imagination. I let my mind wonder. ‘Will I turn into one of those things?’ I wonder? ‘Will I get eaten by one of them’? For some reason, the thought of that massive man appears in my mind. His giant form and black presence shocks me out of my thoughts. I open my eyes. Almost to my surprise, the office is still around me. Anton’s stuff is everywhere while his body still sits lifelessly over in the corner, the front of his body hanging down to the floor. I turn and look back at the screen of the computer. One more email. Without much thought or enthusiasm, I toss my hand up and I hit the button. The message opens. Anton, it’s the blood! It has to do with the blood type. The cells can not take over all blood types. I don’t know why but it only affects certain types. The others are either immune, or semi-immune. The blood type of the primary sample was Type B, and it’s attempting to amalgamate other blood types. Type B and AB are susceptible, but Type O and A are safe. I close my eyes, then let myself fall back against the metal bookshelves behind me. I don’t care that it hurts when I hit, or the slight reverberation that echoes past me. I lean back, sighing. I wipe sweat from my face, ignoring the cold air around me. For a moment, I just sit. I don’t let any thoughts come. I keep my mind intentionally blank, refusing to consider anything. For a moment, I am completely calm and still. I don’t let anything get to me. Nothing. Not a thing. And then, my smile appears from nowhere. “I have type A,” I whisper. The sound of my voice never sounded so good. |