him. The electrical shock causes a Fixer, deployed to repair Donaldâs erectile dysfunction, to malfunction. It scrambles the Fixerâs software and initiates self-replication.
Fixers were designed to replicate under strictly regulated conditions, but the damaged Fixer replicates uncontrollably, at an exponential rate, using whatever materials are at hand. That includes still-twitching, undercaffeinated Donald Catt.
Attempts to quarantine Georgia are unsuccessful, and the new Fixers, whose sole function is to replicate, consume the entire planet in three days, leaving behind nothing but an ocean of gray goo.
20 October 2015
My situation at school deteriorated. Marcus and Adrian glued my locker shut and wrote Space Boy gargles alien balls on the door in permanent marker, and I couldnât walk the halls without being stalked by whispers and cruel laughter. I tried to ignore them, but that only made them meaner. In PE, Adrianâs been keeping his distance, but Iâve noticed the murderous glares he shoots me across the gym. I started something Iâm certain heâs determined to finish.
Diego is still a mystery, but I enjoy spending time with him. He listens when I need to vent, talks when I donât want to, and knows more about literature than anyone Iâve ever met. The only thing about him that unnerves me is the dark look that falls over him when I tell him about something that Marcus said or that Jay Oh and Adrian have done. Itâs like a completely different person replaces the smiling Diego Iâve come to know. And then, quicker than a summer storm, it disappears, leaving me to wonder if I imagined his reaction.
Nothing will make me change my mind about the button, but Iâm trying my best to maintain the status quo for the days that remain. I figure if I keep my head down, maybe I can serve out the balance of my life sentence in relative peace. Wake up, go to school, go home. Repeat until the world ends.
  â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢Â Â
The house was quiet when I got home from schoolâMom wasnât screaming at anyone, and Charlie wasnât being Charlie. It was nice. Living in a house with my mother, brother, and Nana means that someone is usually shouting or dashing from one room to the next as if everything is of monumental importance. I wish they understood how little their actions matter. With the end of the world looming, I can finally see the pointlessness of everything. How the whole of human civilization is nothing more than a mosquitoâs annoying buzz to the universe.
My stomach rumbled, so I figured Iâd make a snack and watch TV while there was no one around to bother me. The fridge was pretty barren, so I settled for peanut butter and jelly. The bread had some mold on it, but I cut it off, too hungry to care.
A sonogram with HAWTHORNE, ZOOEY printed across the bottom clung to the refrigerator doorâheld in place by a magnet from our favorite Chinese takeout joint. The picture looked like a miniature monochrome galaxy, teeming with stars and worlds and boundless potential. I took the sonogram to the kitchen table and tried to determine which part of the amorphous blob was my future niece or nephew. It was a game: find the fetus. Was it too early to know the sex? Probably. Not that it mattered. It wasnât even a baby yet. It was just a little parasite, and it would never be anything else.
A shadow fell across the table, startling me. Nana hovered to my left, staring at the picture over my shoulder. âJesus, Nana, you scared the crap out of me.â
Nanaâs flaccid, wrinkled cheeks pulled back into an impish grin. âMission accomplished.â She eased into the seat next to mine and snatched the sonogram, turning it this way and that, examining it from every angle. âWhat the devil am I looking at?â
âCharlie and Zooeyâs kid. I think.â
âAre you certain? It looks like an ink blot
Fixers were designed to replicate under strictly regulated conditions, but the damaged Fixer replicates uncontrollably, at an exponential rate, using whatever materials are at hand. That includes still-twitching, undercaffeinated Donald Catt.
Attempts to quarantine Georgia are unsuccessful, and the new Fixers, whose sole function is to replicate, consume the entire planet in three days, leaving behind nothing but an ocean of gray goo.
20 October 2015
My situation at school deteriorated. Marcus and Adrian glued my locker shut and wrote Space Boy gargles alien balls on the door in permanent marker, and I couldnât walk the halls without being stalked by whispers and cruel laughter. I tried to ignore them, but that only made them meaner. In PE, Adrianâs been keeping his distance, but Iâve noticed the murderous glares he shoots me across the gym. I started something Iâm certain heâs determined to finish.
Diego is still a mystery, but I enjoy spending time with him. He listens when I need to vent, talks when I donât want to, and knows more about literature than anyone Iâve ever met. The only thing about him that unnerves me is the dark look that falls over him when I tell him about something that Marcus said or that Jay Oh and Adrian have done. Itâs like a completely different person replaces the smiling Diego Iâve come to know. And then, quicker than a summer storm, it disappears, leaving me to wonder if I imagined his reaction.
Nothing will make me change my mind about the button, but Iâm trying my best to maintain the status quo for the days that remain. I figure if I keep my head down, maybe I can serve out the balance of my life sentence in relative peace. Wake up, go to school, go home. Repeat until the world ends.
  â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢Â Â
The house was quiet when I got home from schoolâMom wasnât screaming at anyone, and Charlie wasnât being Charlie. It was nice. Living in a house with my mother, brother, and Nana means that someone is usually shouting or dashing from one room to the next as if everything is of monumental importance. I wish they understood how little their actions matter. With the end of the world looming, I can finally see the pointlessness of everything. How the whole of human civilization is nothing more than a mosquitoâs annoying buzz to the universe.
My stomach rumbled, so I figured Iâd make a snack and watch TV while there was no one around to bother me. The fridge was pretty barren, so I settled for peanut butter and jelly. The bread had some mold on it, but I cut it off, too hungry to care.
A sonogram with HAWTHORNE, ZOOEY printed across the bottom clung to the refrigerator doorâheld in place by a magnet from our favorite Chinese takeout joint. The picture looked like a miniature monochrome galaxy, teeming with stars and worlds and boundless potential. I took the sonogram to the kitchen table and tried to determine which part of the amorphous blob was my future niece or nephew. It was a game: find the fetus. Was it too early to know the sex? Probably. Not that it mattered. It wasnât even a baby yet. It was just a little parasite, and it would never be anything else.
A shadow fell across the table, startling me. Nana hovered to my left, staring at the picture over my shoulder. âJesus, Nana, you scared the crap out of me.â
Nanaâs flaccid, wrinkled cheeks pulled back into an impish grin. âMission accomplished.â She eased into the seat next to mine and snatched the sonogram, turning it this way and that, examining it from every angle. âWhat the devil am I looking at?â
âCharlie and Zooeyâs kid. I think.â
âAre you certain? It looks like an ink blot
Similar Books
