“Who can know anymore?” Broussard replied as he approached her. He bent low and scanned her notes. “These are all of the test results?”
She nodded, stifling a yawn. “Excuse me. Yes.” She reached for her coffee and downed it cold. “The blood sample I have is unlike anything I’ve ever worked with before.”
“How so?” Carol asked.
“It changes. Constantly.” She pointed to the different results. “Even isolated from the subject, the sample changes with each test.” She pushed her wheeled chair to the side and grabbed a stack of printouts. “I use an alkaline solution and the sample remains constant. I use a strong base and it’s unchanged.” She looked to Broussard for answers. “I went so far as to test the reagents and they are all within specs.”
“This makes no sense.” He flipped through the results. “You worked all through the night and got…”
“Nothing,” she replied, stifling another yawn. “I am sorry, Dr. Broussard, but the sample portion I used…” She shrugged. “It’s like a living thing, fighting everything I try.”
“Blood can’t be alive,” Carol stated as she pulled the printouts from Andre’s hand. “It’s a collection of cells in a fluid serum that—”
“I am quite familiar with what blood is, Dr. Chaplain.” Irene crossed her arms and glared at the microscope.
Broussard held his hand up, getting their attention. “But blood is a collection of living things.” He turned to Carol and nodded. “Each cell is a viable organism.”
“They’re just cells, Andre.”
“Oui. But blood is so much more than just a fluid collection of cells; one may as well say we are but a collection of cells.” He sat down gently and stared at the subjects snapping at each other and swiping at the smooth acrylic cell walls. “This fluid is the primary source for nearly all medical testing; it contains infinite data.” He sat back and began to rock the chair as he continued staring.
“I’m not following you.”
“The blood is a soup with all kinds of things floating in it. Red blood cells, white blood cells, antibodies…and foreign contaminants.” He turned and gave her a smile. “The virus is fighting back using the body’s own immune system.”
“Through blood?” Carol asked.
“Oui. That is exactly what it is doing.” He spread the printouts out across the table and pointed. “Each of the reagents are designed to alter the blood…to destroy specific aspects in order to measure the changes.” He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “The mutated virus has caused the body to evolve. I would bet that there is a mutated lymphocyte the blood is reacting to, and adapting to the reagents we use to neutralize them.”
Carol groaned. “Great. The next step in human evolution is a feral cannibal.” She sat down heavily and sighed. “Perhaps they have a mineral deficiency? They’re lacking high velocity lead.”
“Not funny.” Andre grumbled as he went back over the results. “I’m afraid I was mistaken earlier.”
Irene leaned in. “How so?”
He looked up at the infected again and sighed. “We do need a test subject.”
The slight snap of a twig in the woods had Simon’s head jerking around, his eyes peering into the deepening gloom. “Come any closer without announcing yourself and I will ventilate you.”
Jake and Tommy stepped out from behind large trees, their hands held up and a broad smile plastered across their faces. “I thought you was asleep.” Tommy drawled.
“I was.” Simon decocked his pistol and tucked it back into his vest.
“Light sleeper,” Jake noted.
“Sometimes you have to be.” Simon sat up in the folding chair and stared at the two men. “Let me guess.”
Tommy smiled again and scooted the cooler closer, sitting on it. “Trent told us what you said.” He picked up a stick and scratched in the dirt with it. “I don’t think you really understand what we were getting at.”
“We need to stick together,” Jake spat out. “Them other folk ain’t like us.”
Tommy shook his head. “They’d have starved if it weren’t for us.” He gave Jake a knowing look. “And I’m sick of them always mooching and begging then looking down their noses at us.”
“Them spics and niggers can—”
“No!” Simon barked. He pushed up from the chair and shook his head at the two men, his hand creeping back for the grip of the pistol. “I won’t tolerate that kind of talk. Not anymore.”
Jake looked to Tommy then both turned to him, shaking their heads. “We don’t mean nothing by it.”
“People are people,” Simon replied softly. “Trust me, if I cut you open and pulled out your organs, nobody could tell me the color of your skin.” His eyes narrowed on the two men and he smirked. “We clear?”
“Yeah.” Jake held his hands up in surrender. “We’re clear.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “Look, all we’re saying is, we’d rather hit the road than stay here and keep feeding these ungrateful…uh…people.”
Simon scoffed as he sat back down. “How long has it been since you boys were out of these woods?”
They looked at each other and shrugged. “Not since people starting eating each other.” Tommy pointed back to the higher camp ground. “Trent’s been out a couple times though.”
“And what did he tell you was out there?”
Both men shook their heads. “He didn’t. He found a tractor trailer with food and stuff headed for the Walmart and—”
“Nothing,” Simon interrupted. “There’s nothing out there.” He stared at each man, letting his words sink in. “You want to take off and pretend you’re an outlaw, right? Well, bad news boys. There’s nothing left…no laws to break. Everything is gone.”
“I don’t follow.” Tommy swallowed hard.
“Empty houses. Abandoned cars. Looted stores.” Simon sat back and sighed. “The few people left out there either suffered through the third layer of hell to stay alive or they were infected and got cured. Either way, they won’t tolerate a handful of
