It's the End of the World as We Know it (Silent Moments Series: Book 4)

Chapter 16

As I circled the radiation chamber, a sense of hesitant apprehension filled the air. "How is he?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, not sure if I was ready to hear the answer.

"Vital signs are strong," Abby responded, her focus unwavering as she monitored the array of screens displaying Baylis's condition. "Jackson, seal the chamber."

Jackson's reply was shaky, a reflection of the unease we all felt. "Copy that," he said, securing the sedated Baylis to the table. His movements were methodical but tinged with a visible tremor. He reached up, pulling down the handle of the chamber with a finality that seemed to echo through the room. "He's ready," Jackson announced, his eyes fixed on Baylis, unable to look away.

"Yeah," Raven sighed, her voice heavy with doubt. "But are we?"

Her question hung in the air, unanswered. It was as if the gravity of what we were about to do weighed down our words. The room was filled with a palpable tension, each of us avoiding the gaze of the man now enclosed within the chamber.

Emori broke the silence, her voice firm despite the turmoil beneath. "The guy's a monster," she declared, her eyes scanning the faces in the room.

"We've been over this," I sighed, the burden of leadership heavy on my shoulders. "None of us wants to do this, but the death wave will be here in ten days. Luna's stem cells grafted successfully. Baylis is making nightblood on his own. This really is our only hope."

Murphy's frustration was evident in his tone. "Are we really still talking about this?" he asked, his annoyance clear. "Black rain is already here. Eighteen people died in it yesterday at Arkadia. If nightblood can let us walk around in it, I want to know about that."

The room fell into a heavy silence, each of us wrestling with the harsh reality of our situation. When my eyes met Abby's, there was an unspoken agreement, a shared recognition of the necessity of our actions.

"Okay," Abby finally conceded, the weight of her decision evident in her voice. "Jackson, proceed."

"Copy that. Initiating," Jackson responded, his hand turning the dial. "500 REM."

The chamber seemed to glow brighter, a stark contrast to the dimly lit lab. Baylis appeared unaffected, his vital signs stable.

"850. This is where we'd see symptoms in a non-nightblood," Jackson noted, his voice tinged with a mix of scientific curiosity and apprehension.

"BP is 100 over 50," Abby reported. "Body temp is 98.7, resting comfortably."

I moved closer to the chamber, squatting down next to it. There was a disturbing fascination in what we were doing, a clash between our humanity and the desperate need to survive. Despite everything Baylis had done, I couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for him. We were subjecting him to a harrowing ordeal for the greater good, a decision fraught with ethical complexity. I hoped that our actions, as extreme as they were, would be justified in the end. The survival of many rested on this experiment, a gamble with both high stakes and profound moral implications.

My voice was steady, but I couldn't hide the concern as I observed Baylis through the chamber glass. "No visible effects."

Jackson steadily increased the radiation dosage. "1,000 REM... 1,500 REM."

"All good here," Abby reported, her eyes never leaving the monitors tracking Baylis's vitals.

"2,000 REM, the level of the black rain," Jackson continued, his voice a mix of hope and apprehension.

I watched intently, a flicker of optimism beginning to kindle. "Still nothing," I noted. "It's working."

"2,500 REM," Jackson announced, taking us into uncharted territory.