“Maybe we all have it and it just takes longer to kill you depending on your immune system.”
Alec shifted up on to his knees. “We’ve strayed from Lana’s point. There’s something wrong with this virus. It’s not consistent. I’m not a scientist, but could it be mutating or something? Changing as it jumps from one person to the next?”
Lana nodded. “Mutating, adapting, strengthening—who knows. But something. And it seems to take longer to kill you as it spreads, which—contrary to what you’d assume—actually means the virus is more effectively spreading. You and Mark weren’t there, but you should’ve seen how quickly those first victims went. Nothing like Misty. It was bloody and brutal and awful for an hour or two, but then it was over. They convulsed and bled, which only helped it to spread to more human incubators.”
Mark was glad he’d missed it. But considering what he’d seen Darnell go through at the end, those people might’ve been lucky that it had happened so fast. With way too much clarity, Mark recalled the sound of the boy beating his skull against the inside of the door.
“It has something to do with their head,” Trina murmured.
Everyone looked at her. She’d just voiced something obvious, but vital.
“It definitely had something to do with their head,” Mark chimed in. “They all had massive pain. And loss of sanity. Darnell was hallucinating—plain crazy. And then Misty. And the Toad …”
Trina posed a question. “Maybe they shot people with different things—how do we know it all started the same?”
Mark shook his head. “I went through the boxes on the Berg,” he said. “They all seemed to have the same identification number.”
Alec stood up. “Well, if it
is
mutating and if any of us have caught it, let’s hope it gives us a week or two before we lose our wits. Come on. Let’s get moving.”
“Nice,” Trina muttered as she got to her feet.
A few minutes later, they were on the march again.
Sometime in the middle of the afternoon they came within sight of another settlement. It was off the path Alec had scrawled on his makeshift map, but Mark spotted several wooden structures through the trees, big ones. His heart lifted at the idea of seeing large groups of people again.
“Should we go over there?” Lana asked.
Alec seemed to be weighing the pros and cons before he answered. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’m eager to keep moving and follow our map. We don’t know anything about these people.”
“But maybe we should,” Mark argued. “They might actually know something about the bunker, headquarters, whatever we’re calling the place the Berg came from.”
Alec looked at him, obviously considering all their options.
“I think we should check it out,” Trina said. “If nothing else, we can warn them about what’s happened to us.”
“Okay,” Alec relented. “One hour.”
The smell hit them when the wind shifted, just as they were approaching the first buildings, small huts made of logs with thatched roofs.
It was the same smell that had assaulted Mark and Alec when they’d approached their own village after chasing down the Berg and marching back. The smell of rotting flesh.
“Whoa!” Alec called out. “That’s it. We’re turning around right now.”
Even as he said it, it became clear where the stench was coming from. Farther down the path several bodies had been stacked on top of each other. Then a figure appeared. A little girl was walking toward them from the direction of the dead. She must have been five or six years old, with matted dark hair and filthy clothes.
“Guys,” Mark said. When the others looked at him, he nodded toward the approaching girl. She stopped about twenty feet from them. Her face was dirty and her expression sad, and she didn’t say anything. Just looked at them with hollow eyes. The stench of rot hung in the air.
“Hey there,” Trina called out. “Are you okay, sweetie? Where are your
Alec shifted up on to his knees. “We’ve strayed from Lana’s point. There’s something wrong with this virus. It’s not consistent. I’m not a scientist, but could it be mutating or something? Changing as it jumps from one person to the next?”
Lana nodded. “Mutating, adapting, strengthening—who knows. But something. And it seems to take longer to kill you as it spreads, which—contrary to what you’d assume—actually means the virus is more effectively spreading. You and Mark weren’t there, but you should’ve seen how quickly those first victims went. Nothing like Misty. It was bloody and brutal and awful for an hour or two, but then it was over. They convulsed and bled, which only helped it to spread to more human incubators.”
Mark was glad he’d missed it. But considering what he’d seen Darnell go through at the end, those people might’ve been lucky that it had happened so fast. With way too much clarity, Mark recalled the sound of the boy beating his skull against the inside of the door.
“It has something to do with their head,” Trina murmured.
Everyone looked at her. She’d just voiced something obvious, but vital.
“It definitely had something to do with their head,” Mark chimed in. “They all had massive pain. And loss of sanity. Darnell was hallucinating—plain crazy. And then Misty. And the Toad …”
Trina posed a question. “Maybe they shot people with different things—how do we know it all started the same?”
Mark shook his head. “I went through the boxes on the Berg,” he said. “They all seemed to have the same identification number.”
Alec stood up. “Well, if it
is
mutating and if any of us have caught it, let’s hope it gives us a week or two before we lose our wits. Come on. Let’s get moving.”
“Nice,” Trina muttered as she got to her feet.
A few minutes later, they were on the march again.
Sometime in the middle of the afternoon they came within sight of another settlement. It was off the path Alec had scrawled on his makeshift map, but Mark spotted several wooden structures through the trees, big ones. His heart lifted at the idea of seeing large groups of people again.
“Should we go over there?” Lana asked.
Alec seemed to be weighing the pros and cons before he answered. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’m eager to keep moving and follow our map. We don’t know anything about these people.”
“But maybe we should,” Mark argued. “They might actually know something about the bunker, headquarters, whatever we’re calling the place the Berg came from.”
Alec looked at him, obviously considering all their options.
“I think we should check it out,” Trina said. “If nothing else, we can warn them about what’s happened to us.”
“Okay,” Alec relented. “One hour.”
The smell hit them when the wind shifted, just as they were approaching the first buildings, small huts made of logs with thatched roofs.
It was the same smell that had assaulted Mark and Alec when they’d approached their own village after chasing down the Berg and marching back. The smell of rotting flesh.
“Whoa!” Alec called out. “That’s it. We’re turning around right now.”
Even as he said it, it became clear where the stench was coming from. Farther down the path several bodies had been stacked on top of each other. Then a figure appeared. A little girl was walking toward them from the direction of the dead. She must have been five or six years old, with matted dark hair and filthy clothes.
“Guys,” Mark said. When the others looked at him, he nodded toward the approaching girl. She stopped about twenty feet from them. Her face was dirty and her expression sad, and she didn’t say anything. Just looked at them with hollow eyes. The stench of rot hung in the air.
“Hey there,” Trina called out. “Are you okay, sweetie? Where are your
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