Allison’s gut rolled. Her skin tingled as goosebumps spread on her arms. She examined the black lettering on the IV bag hanging above her head: Midazolam. Allison’s mind struggled to recall her pharmacology tutor’s last lesson. The answer slammed into her like a quarterback going for the winning touchdown. Midazolam is a sedative, used to keep a patient relaxed, sleepy and unaware. It can even cause memory loss. Allison grasped the IV catheter in her arm, pulled it from her vein, and buried the tip in her blanket. She positioned her arm so she could apply pressure to the area while still maintaining the illusion the IV was still in place.
Catherine returned in the company of a middle-aged man in thick silver-rimmed glasses carrying a manila folder. The man took a seat near Allison as nurse Catherine left, pulling the curtain closed behind her.
“I’m Dr. Richard Neff,” he spoke softly. “I heard you had some questions.” He adjusted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose only for them to slip down again as soon as he removed his hand from them.
“Why am I here?” Allison shook as the words left her lips and she sniffled away tears. Dr. Neff placed a hand on Allison’s back but said nothing. Dr. Neff’s touch, although gentle, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She stiffened, as the warm rage sparked to life in her belly. Danger. Dr. Neff removed his hand as Allison’s muscles tensed underneath it.
“I think it would be easier if I tell you some things before I answer your questions directly. Is that okay?”
Allison nodded.
Dr. Neff cleared his throat and began, “Dave and Sandra Wilton say you are their niece and that you survived the Earlsboro Massacre. Surviving that tragedy is impressive, and we do not want to put you through any more trauma. However, we ran some tests on your blood whilst you were asleep, and though we do not have all the tests back yet we have identified some unique markers in your blood. Markers we have only seen in those formerly infected by N87.” Dr. Neff raised his eyebrows to emphasize his last remark.
“Is that a crime?” Allison snapped.
“Being a former Infected? No, but it is interesting. Scientifically, of course.” Dr. Neff stood and paced the room. “You see, very few people recover; most die. Those who don’t, turn into veritable monsters. I’ve been on the front lines treating Infected since the outbreak. I’ve treated three who had recovered. That makes you the very special fourth.” Dr. Neff smiled at Allison.
Allison stiffened. Dr. Neff continued and paced across the floor. “We have created a vaccine. Its effectiveness is limited. It was not the answer we hoped it would be.” Dr. Neff abruptly stopped pacing and faced Allison. “But, you see, we have been unable to find a cure. All the remaining great minds of the world working on one problem, yet it eludes us. It’s quite sad.” Dr. Neff took a seat in the chair next to Allison again, opening the manila folder, glancing down at its contents.
“Why are you telling me all of this?” Allison asked.
“Because I am working on some theories. A theory about people like you. A theory about how to cure Lyssavirus N87. From your blood work I know you had been Infected a long time and have just recently recovered from N87. You seem to have one of the earliest strains of the virus. As close to the pure original as we will probably ever get. I believe the answer to curing everyone infected is in the bone marrow of former Infected, like you. The bone marrow contains stem cells altered by N87 that can be used to create the cure. I am hoping you can help me and millions of others.” Dr. Neff placed the open manila folder on Allison’s lap.
Allison looked down at the folder. Newspaper clippings showed pictures of people, headlines like “Body Fluids Spread Death!” and pictures of Infected strapped to gurneys, pain strewed across their faces. Allison pushed the folder to the side, shifting the contents onto the bed, revealing a picture of an adolescent boy on the bottom of the pile. His chestnut hair was messily swept to the side with a mischievous smile plastered on his face, a classic school picture.
“You can help me save them all,” Dr. Neff pleaded as he placed the pictures and clippings back into the folder and set it on the table near him. “I just need you to stay here for a little while.”
“You need my bone marrow. You said it. How much would it take? Is it painful?” Allison asked.
“Oh, I cannot say for sure, however I doubt it would be much at all. The pain is minimal.” The downward turn of his lips and lack of eye contact as he spoke showed that was a lie. Danger. Her core burned like hot coal. The anger boiling.
“I need time to think about this,” Allison said, jaw clenched as she turned away.
Dr. Neff scowled, crossing his arms. “This world has suffered from a pandemic of mass proportions that continues to this day. You can help fix this! You can reunite families, save children, make the world whole again.”
Allison felt the heat in her core flow through her body. The room went black, and the world was in shadow. She wasn’t on the cot anymore. She was in a tree, on a board of sorts. She was tired, weak, scared. At her feet someone was trying to climb up onto the board, and Allison was frantically kicking, kicking, kicking to keep them away. Pain, she felt pain. Something sharp digging into her skin, ripping at her, tearing away flesh. Dizziness overtook her; she struggled to breathe, struggled to live. Her body was hot like fire but the world around her seemed muted, like it was underwater. Her vision
