Deviant Plague

One- Sapphira

Two Years After Contamination

Running through trees and over the highway around scattered pile-ups, flakes of ash float on the wind like snow coating my hair and invading my lungs. Rocks shift under my feet, Earth rumbling from the explosives dropped on the skyscrapers. Structures of steel and glass ignite like rockets and topple over like dominoes. Fire blazes through the avenues, catching everything in its wake, spreading like the plague itself. By this point, I know it's a dream, the dream, but it doesn't matter. From this nightmare there is no escape because it is my most vivid memory to date, the day the world ended.

~~~~~~

Rivers of sweat run down my chest, encasing me in a sticky cocoon. Dawn isn't for a few more hours, but rolling over back to sleep is unlikely. My breathing is still labored, heart pounding as if I'd actually been running for my life. Count to ten. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I tell myself to breathe and eventually the dark memories dissipate. They're replaced by the buzz, the overdose of adrenaline that pumps through my veins everyday in this hell. I need a cigarette.

Stripping off my drenched, previously white tank, I head for a pile of clothes on a desk in the corner. Black v-neck, gray cargos, bomber jacket, combat boots, my chosen uniform for the last year. A small pack waits by the door. Kicking it up with my foot and reaching inside with one smooth motion, I grab my led flashlight. The hallway is quiet as I leave my room and I hope for solitude. At the end of the hallway are three flights of stairs to the roof. I take them two at a time and crash out into the crisp early morning air. Almost smiling, I catch myself when I see a figure in the distance. Wish denied, my muscles tense and I reach for the knife in my pocket.

"It's me, Sapph," says a familiar voice.

"How did you know it was me?" I ask letting myself relax. I know Rich's voice well because I'm the only one who listens to his conspiracy theories about DP.

"You come out to smoke around this time every morning," he replies, his voice monotone.

"Not every morning. I've been trying to quit," I reply half heartedly knowing I haven't made much effort to stop smoking.

"You've been out every morning this week." There is no judgement in his voice, but that makes me feel more guilty.

"It's an uphill battle," I say with a sigh and pull a cig from the box in my pocket. Three left. Need to resupply. Shoving the cig between my lips, I pull out my antique Zippo lighter and burn the tip. Smoke hits my throat and soothes like air to a drowning person. The buzz of anxiety calms but never fades entirely.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" I ask, turning the conversation around.

"Batteries ran out in my flashlight." His legs hang over the side and he swings them back and forth.

If nothing else could be said of their leader, Vincent kept them stocked on all the essentials. "We have plenty of batteries in storage..."

"I'm rationing myself," he says.

"And how is that going?" He's being vague, but I can't force him to tell me anything. It might be better if I don't know, anyway.

"About as well as your efforts to quit smoking," Rich replies and I can't help but chuckle.

"Asshole. What were you doing before you lost juice?" I ask.

"Going over my Intel on DP again. Nothing adds up." His obsession with DP is well known by the group. I roll my eyes and interrupt him before he can say another word.

"I know, I know. You think the government is somehow responsible."

"Someone is responsible," he says his voice rising in excitement. "What virus have you ever heard of that makes the host stronger? Grants abilities? The more I learn about it, the more I know, someone was fucking with something they should have left alone." I pause for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Doesn't matter now. It's not like we can go back in time and catch them before they kill everyone." We both get quiet after that. I'm halfway through my cig when the alarm sounds. Someone has breached the perimeter. I bend down and put out my cig and return it to the box. Tiptoeing quickly to the door, I peek down the stairwell. Through the darkness I hear screaming and boots slamming against the linoleum. I turn to look behind and Rich is on my tail.

"The building has been compromised. It would be too risky to go back to the first floor now," I inform him. Everyone slept on the first floor for easy escape. It would be chaos down there. "I have rope in my bag. We get to the second floor and shimmy down from there."

Rich is staring down the dark stairwell, eyes wide and afraid. I snap my fingers in front of his face and he flinches back into reality. I point forward, signaling I'm going to move. He follows as I feel around in the dark for the railing. I take the stairs slowly trying to keep quiet and not fall to my death. We make it the two flights to the second floor and I switch on my flashlight once we're in the hallway. They shouldn't be looking for anyone up here. At least I hope not.

I can still hear muffled screams below, so I speed up. There's a dorm room ahead, but when I try the handle it's locked. My heart is in my throat as I try the next one. Locked. Footsteps pound up the stairs behind us. Sweaty palms that I barely recognize as my own reach out and grab the next handle. I want to cry as it turns and the door opens. Rich scurries in and I close the door quietly, locking it behind me. Two shadows linger in a corner behind one of the beds. I flash my light on them and discover Peter and Rosanna half naked.

"Hey, stupid, turn that thing off. You trying to get us killed?" Peter whispers at me through gritted teeth. His nickname bugs me but now's not the time. I proceed to the window and pull it up, making a nice bit of noise.

"You can stay here and wait to be taken or you can climb out this window." I'd already made my decision. Reaching into my pack, I pull out the rope and throw it over the side. I take the other end and tie it to the leg of the closest bed.

I look back at Rich, but he's not moving. "Come on Rich, let's get out of here."

"They're outside the door. There's not enough time for all of us," he says with solemn determination on his face. He is staying.

"Rich, don't do this. We can all make it," I plead.

"They'll keep coming." His response is quiet and determined.

"Well, while you two are chatting, I'm getting the fuck out of here." Peter runs to the window and climbs out, leaving his lover behind. Rosanna sucks her teeth and climbs out after him.

Gunshots blow through the door handle and we duck to avoid getting shot. Rich hands me his bag. We're supposed to keep a pack on us at all times just in case we need to run. "Take it and go."

"They'll kill you," I say.

"Make it count," He replies.

I know that look in his eyes, stubbornness. He thinks he's doing the right thing and who am I to keep him from his blaze of glory. I take the bag and run to the window. Throwing it out into the darkness, I climb over the side of the windowsill. Holding myself up makes my hands ache but I try to ignore the pain. The last thing I see is Rich surrounded by brilliant waves of electricity that seem to come from inside of him. He takes out two men in suits before they put a tranq in his neck.

Author: charliedor