The lights flickered on, but Darryl was the only one awake. Clay and George had cried themselves to sleep, and Tommy had passed out from exhaustion. Darryl could feel it, starting in the pit of his stomach. The week was up, and his time was nearing quickly. His heart shot pain through him, and he winced.
It was now or never, he realized. Even without his senses, he could feel his body failing him. He had to tell them, or he'd never get the chance. He stood up, pretending not to feel the weakness in his legs. He limped over to George and Clay, nudging them with his foot. George stirred first, blinking awake.
" Hm? What is it," he asked sleepily. The brit woke Clay by sitting up. " Something wrong, Darryl?"
" So much is wrong," Darryl admitted. " I need to talk to you guys before we enter the door today."
Tommy let out a loud yawn, his eyes red and puffy. George climbed to his feet and helped Clay to his, and they stared at Darryl expectantly. The brunette took a deep breath, glancing nervously over to the doors. There were only four left, half of them gone. The walls were empty, and there was a bad feeling building in his gut.
" Do you remember when I told you I was a reporter," Darryl blurted suddenly. George raised an eyebrow and Tommy nodded as he stepped closer. " I also told you that I mostly cover small stories. While that's not a lie, I was recently given a huge job. My boss trusted me, and I didn't want to let him down."
Darryl paused, leaning against the wall. His legs gave out underneath him and he fell. Clay gasped, " Are you okay?"
" No," Darryl said. " I'm so far from okay. I can feel my body failing me. That's why I have to tell you."
" Tell us?" Tommy scratched the back of his neck. " Have you been hiding stuff from us, Big Man?"
" Not hiding," Darryl disagreed. " I have to protect you. If you know, they'll have even more of a reason to kill you."
" Who?" Clay sat forward, eyes wide. Darryl could understand his concern. It wasn't every day you heard someone wanted you dead. Darryl had already had time to process that. Clay put a firm hand on Darryl's shoulder, his eyes flashing dangerously. But nothing scared Darryl anymore.
The brunette maneuvered to lean against the wall. " Sit back, I have to tell you a story."
" Can't you just get to the point," Tommy groaned. George shot him a glare and he quieted immediately, shrinking back.
Darryl winced, grasping his gut. " I was tasked with interviewing the SDC."
" No way," George breathed out. That was a prestigious job, given to select few reporters for each location. They couldn't risk too many reporters getting infected and spreading the disease. Or at least, that's what they claimed.
" When I showed up, I wasn't expecting to see him," Darryl trailed off, his eyes glazing over. He blinked, shaking away the thought. George and Clay glanced at each other curiously. " I didn't expect to be given a tour by one of the Big Three."
" No way," George repeated, louder this time. " Which one?"
Tommy held up his hand. " Sorry, wait. I'm confused, who are the Big Three?"
" You don't know," Clay huffed. " They're all over the news. Maybe you just know them by different names."
" They're the scientists that founded the SDC. They're the leading researchers for any and all things involving the Sleeping Death. They're famous for being really young, super geniuses," George said, rambling on. " You have heard of them, I'm sure."
" Obviously, just never heard them called the Big Three," Tommy grumbled. " I'm not stupid."
" Which one did you meet, Darryl," George asked, getting back on topic.
Darryl raised an eyebrow. " Which one do you think?"
" Pretty boy," Clay answered, snapping his fingers. " He's the only one that shows up frequently in public."
" You've got me again. Who's pretty boy?" Tommy threw up his arms. " And please stop using all this fancy language, I'm easily confused."
Clay rolled his eyes. " The one who appears in all the magazines? Not the youngest, not the oldest. Take a guess at which one you think."
" Dr. Wilbur Soot."
Darryl flinched, nodding. " Yeah, that's him. Dr. Wilbur Soot was waiting for me when I arrived."
" Oh my God," George said. " Did you get to meet the other two? Are they taller or shorter than they look in the photos? I've heard the youngest is handsome, but intimidating, is that true?"
Darryl stared at him, dreading answering any questions. He didn't want to tell them this, couldn't they see? He was already putting their lives in danger by being around them, but it would be like planting a target on their backs now. He had to, though. This information had to reach the public, he couldn't die with it.
The words wouldn't leave his mouth, but a small groan of pain did. His eyes landed on something nearby, and he weighed his options. Inhaling sharply, the reporter locked eyes with George. " There's only one way I can answer all your questions in time," he choked out, trying his best to sound determined.
Clay's eyes widened as he caught on. The blonde shook his head. " Don't do it."
It was too late. In a swift movement, Darryl grabbed the door handle next to him, and pulled it open.
~~~~
It was sunny that day, and very hot. Darryl climbed the steps to the college, where the Sleeping Death Corporation had set up shop for the time being. The main building wasn't large, but it was one of the biggest on the campus. He pushed through the front door, wincing as it creaked loudly through the empty entryway.
" There's the man of the hour," a voice boomed. Darryl's eyes widened as his head whipped around to face them. A man in a white dress shirt stepped out from a nearby door. His grin was wide, and his eyes sparkled. The messy way his hair fell, and the thick accent in his voice gave away his identity.
This was Doctor Wilbur Soot, on of the co-founders of the SDC. One of the most important people in the modern world, and he was standing right there. Darryl couldn't move, couldn't even speak. He'd expected an employee would give him a tour, not the man in charge of it all.
" Why such a glum face," Wilbur chuckled. Darryl noticed how he didn't wear a mask, and he was tempted to comment on it. The doctor seemed to realize and waved it off. " This is the most sanitized room in the entire country by now, it's not necessary."
" How do you know I don't have it though, or that you aren't spreading it to me," Darryl questioned.
" A smart boy, I'm glad you're here. Don't worry, I'd know if either of us had it," Wilbur laughed. Darryl flushed, a little embarrassed when he realized he'd just asked the one man who might know the most about the Sleeping Death if he had it. Wilbur pulled a mask out of his pocket, holding it up. " Don't worry, we'll need it when we walk through other parts of the building."
" Right," Darryl stammered, glad his own mask was hiding his blush. " So, are we doing the tour first and then questions?"
" Surprise me! Let's mix in a little bit of both, why don't we." Wilbur seemed so full of energy that it took Darryl aback. It was no wonder he was the one in all the magazines.
They began the tour, Dr. Soot guiding Darryl through several hallways. The rooms that had their doors open were full of scientists working on an assortment of different things. One sat at a computer, a journal by her hand. She appeared to be entering data into the computer. Another looked through a microscope, squinting to see the image under it.
" These are our more general labs," the doctor explained. Darryl noticed that his mask was on now. " We keep the more classified studies elsewhere for obvious reasons."
Right, Darryl thought, wouldn't want something to go wrong in an area that was hard to contain. He scribbled notes into his journal for later. He glanced up at Wilbur, who was a surprisingly young man. He was told Dr. Soot was a young genius, but now that he was right next to him, Darryl wouldn't have been surprised if Dr. Soot were younger than him.
He blinked when he realized those all-knowing eyes had turned to him. " Any questions," the doctor asked.
" A few," Darryl said. He flipped to a different page, where several questions were printed neatly. " How are your searches for a cure going, and have you reached any new conclusions about this disease?"
" Cures take time, my good sir," Wilbur sighed, his eyes filling with sadness. " I wish we could develop it faster to save a few more lives, but my team is working as hard as we can."
" And have any new conclusions been reached," Darryl repeated. Wilbur thought for a moment.
" Apologies, I don't know how much I'm allowed to release about our latest discovery yet," he concluded. " Nothing is certain, one must always keep that in mind when dealing with matters such as these."
Darryl wrote that down, though he was a little disappointed with the answer. Wilbur resumed the tour. The reporter looked around in amazement. He stopped as he stared at a hallway bustling with people, nurses and doctors in lab coats. They pushed carts into rooms, and Darryl could just barely see the edge of a cot from a door that was cracked open.
" Can I see this hallway," Darryl asked. Wilbur glanced over his shoulder, and the smile left his eyes. " Oh, is that classified?"
Wilbur turned around slowly, and Darryl was suddenly aware of how tall he was. A few nurses paused, watching the scene unfold. Dr. Soot tilted his head. " No, we don't allow the public to see our patients. It's to protect their identities."
" That's fine," Darryl said, shrinking back. Wilbur glanced to the side, and the nurses that had been watching went back to work immediately. " Should we move on?"
" Of course," Wilbur replied, spinning on his heel and walking away. Darryl followed, but he kept his head down this time. He took note as they passed an elevator. There was a sign taped to the wall, next to the buttons. The up arrow was marked with 'Offices', and the down arrow was marked with 'Cure Research.' Darryl didn't asked Wilbur about these, but the scientist could see him staring. " Both of those are restricted."
Darryl let out a small squeak of surprise. " Sorry, I don't mean to be so curious."
" It's fine," Dr. Soot excused, his eyes smiling, though they weren't as kind. " Just remember, curiosity killed the cat."
" But satisfaction brought him back," Darryl finished. The doctor raised an eyebrow, and the reporter immediately regretted opening his mouth. " That's the end of the phrase. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back."
" You are a smart boy," Wilbur muttered under his breath. " But satisfaction isn't a cure for the Sleeping Death."
Darryl gulped. A doctor pushed passed him, red in the face. Whether it was from anger or exhaustion, the reporter couldn't tell. He whispered something into Dr. Soot's ear, and the tall brunette grimaced. Darryl felt fear rush through his brain as the doctor hurried off and left Wilbur alone with him. " My presence has been requested to oversee an important matter, please wait here until I return. I shouldn't be long."
Without waiting for a response, the doctor stalked off. Darryl was paralyzed where he stood. He had an awful feeling in his gut, and the urge to be anywhere but there. His notepad barely had anything written. He hadn't asked the majority of his questions, and now he didn't want to. Slowly, his eyes panned over to the elevator.
No, he thought, that was off-limits for a reason. His mind wandered back to that hallway of patients. Darryl's feet were moving before he could stop them. He stuck close to the wall, listening to make sure no one was walking toward him. He peaked around the corner and frowned.
The hallway was abandoned. No doctors or nurses wandered around, or pushed carts between doors. Maybe they were on break? But all at once, surely not. What if something happened to the patients while no one was around?
Darryl adjusted his mask, making sure it was on properly. With a deep breath, he walked down the hall, peaking into the first door. Two or three beds were strewn around, but only one of them had a patient in it. Darryl frowned, glancing at a cart left in the middle. He picked up a chart, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened as they skimmed through the content.
Patient 346: Eret
Heart appears to be in stable condition, healthy with little-to-no sign of past trouble. Will be upping the dosage by 0.25, to ease his organs into shutting down. Packaging unit will not be free until Wednesday, so keep patient stable until given the clear.
Darryl's hands tightened around the paper. He wasn't supposed to see this, was he? Slowly, he turned to look at the lone patient on the cot. The IV drip looked to be hooked up to something other than water. There was writing on it in big, bold letters. Darryl sucked in a sharp breath, reading +0.25 inscribed on the bag.
What did this mean? Was this a prank? There was no way he was actually reading these words. No, he couldn't believe it. He ran from the room and into another. Desperately, he snatched another paper off a cart. This one said something similar, but it had three logs, one for each of the people in that room.
" No," he whispered. Without warning, one of the heart monitors began to shriek. He whipped around, his heart falling. A patient was flatlining. Surely someone would hear that, he had to get out of there. His fears were confirmed when someone pushed through the door.
The nurse gaped at him, eyes wide. " You're not supposed to be in here," she said, surprisingly calm. She hadn't even moved to help the dying patient, instead she slowly backed out the door. Darryl knew what she was about to do before she did it. She shouted, " Security!"
Darryl pushed past her, still holding the papers. The woman continued to shout. The reporter didn't have time to be careful anymore. He knew he needed more proof, he needed to get this to the authorities. Without thinking, he slammed his hand on the 'Offices' button on the elevator.
The doors slid open painfully slowly. As they closed, Darryl heard shouting coming from the hall. The calm elevator music did not fit the mood at all as it ascended. Finally, the ding sounded and he was able to glance around his surroundings. There were only three wooden doors in this hall, along with a waiting area outside of them. At one time, Darryl was sure these were used by important staff members in the College.
Now, however, the labels on the door listed three of the biggest names in science.
Wilbur Soot's name was written on the one in the middle. Darryl didn't have to look to know what the others' said. These were the personal offices for the Big Three, and he needed to get inside them.
He tried the first two, but they were both locked with a special password. His eyes landed on the last one. The door wasn't clicked shut all the way, and hope swelled in Darryl's chest. He glanced at the name on the outside and hesitated. He didn't know as much about this member of the Big Three.
He pushed in anyway, but he tried to remind himself all he could about the man as he rummaged through his office. Darryl knew he had only appeared in one magazine, and had never spoken during the TV interviews he appeared on. Mostly, he let the other two do all the talking.
Most of the posts about him online were teenage girls obsessing over his face, and his reserved persona. From what Darryl saw, he was handsome, but in a different way from his co-founder. Wilbur Soot usually took the spotlight, with his outgoing, smiley personality. But this member of the Big Three didn't need to act big to take up space in a room. You could tell he was important, and he didn't need to open his mouth to get that point across.
A file sat at the bottom of the lowest drawer. It was stamped in red with the word 'CONFIDENTIAL.' With shaking hands, Darryl gently pulled it out. He flipped it open, and a letter fell out. It was handwritten in the neatest handwriting he'd ever seen. He noticed the word purchase and exchange repeated frequently. As Darryl read the last line, it sent a shiver down his spine.
Would you happen to have any spare hearts sitting around? I've gotten quite a few high bids for some healthy ones right about now.
-JS
Darryl reread the letter, glancing at the chart in his hands. He wanted a heart, and this patient had a perfect one. If the brunette was correct, this would be the biggest scandal in years. The Sleeping Death Corporation wasn't trying to cure people, they were selling their organs.
The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Darryl's eyes to snap up. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, was the worst possible person. It wasn't the smiley Doctor Wilbur Soot, or the kind, older Doctor Phil Za. This was the youngest, the most intimidating, the most mysterious of the world-famous founders of the SDC.
This was Doctor Dave Blade.
Nicknamed Techno by the public, Dr. Blade was in charge of all the inner dealings of the SDC. Darryl might've been the only person in the world who knew how deep that truly went. He had a strong build, and his strawberry blonde hair was combed back neatly. It was his eyes that caught Darryl's attention.
His chilling blue irises bore holes into the reporter's head. He was tall, Darryl realized. Why were they all so tall? He was blocking the door, and he didn't look like he wanted to move. Darryl gulped, taking a step back. The scientist stepped closer. He didn't smile, but humor flashed through his eyes briefly. " Caught you," he said, surprising Darryl with his deep voice.
Everything about this man screamed intimidation. He rarely spoke in public, so his voice was a mystery to most outside the direct circle of elite scientists. He was younger than Darryl significantly, but he hardly looked it. This was his office, and he'd just seen someone shuffling through his drawers. There was no explaining his way out of this one, Darryl realized.
" Another pesky little insect. When Wilbur said you were coming today, I just knew you'd be trouble," Techno huffed. He smirked, and a shadow cast over his face. Another? Had their been more before Darryl? More who had discovered the truth, and yet they never made it? Dr. Blade took another step forward, gesturing down to Darryl's arms. " I'm going to need that."
Darryl clutched the file to his chest, the stolen papers safely tucked inside it. His gaze darted around, searching desperately for a way out. He noticed how the doctor had moved further inward, away from the door. He would only have one chance, and he'd be screwed if this guy could get a single hand on him.
" Come here. There's no point in resisting," Dr. Blade sneered. " We always hit our targets."
Darryl moved suddenly, jumping over the desk. The doctor's eyes widened, obviously not expecting that. Several things crashed to the ground, and he heard Techno let out a loud growl of annoyance. He shouted, his gravelly voice reaching Darryl's heart, " I don't like people making a mess of my things."
Darryl sprinted out the door, using his distraction as an opportunity to escape. The doctor wasn't far behind him, his height being a significant advantage. The reporter knew he couldn't run for long. He ignored the elevator, all too aware of the security that waited for him below. He gasped as he noticed a sign pointing to the emergency fire escape out one of the windows.
Checking over his shoulder, the doctor was still in hot pursuit. He'd have to lose him first, or he wouldn't get anywhere. There was a door to his right, a men's bathroom. He ducked inside there, shutting and locking each one of the stall doors, before finally hiding in the last one. He pulled his feet up so they couldn't be seen.
A second later, he heard the clicking of Dr. Blade's shoes entering the bathroom. He winced as the man roughly banged his fist against the first stall door. Darryl held his breath, all too aware of how the doctor roughly treated each door. Finally, the door right next to his stall was abused, before the scientist took a step back.
Darryl could see the smug look on his face through the crack in the door. " It's been a fun game of cat and mouse, but I have very important business to attend to right now."
He burst through the stall door, freezing. Darryl watched his expression change through that same crack. " He's not here," Techno mumbled, groaning. " I could've sworn he was."
Darryl struggled to control his heartbeat from the next stall over, convinced the doctor could hear it racing. He'd shuffled under the stall right before the doctor had burst through. It was a close call, he'd almost had his feet showing. He wasn't safe yet, he knew that.
He listened as Dr. Blade pulled his phone from his pocket, lifting it to his ear. It rang for a second before a muffled voice came through. " Phil," Techno greeted, sounding more friendly now. " We have a Code Confidential. Get the van."
The strawberry blonde scientist didn't wait for a response before he hung up and left the bathroom. Darryl waited a second before he followed. He stopped at the door, looking left and right. His face paled. Techno smiled at him.
" You've played right into my hands," he chuckled. Darryl was horrified. Was this a game to him? The scientist grabbed his upper arm roughly, trapping him. " I'm one of the most famous minds in the country. Your little tricks won't work on me."
" You're just a psychopath hiding behind the guise of a genius," Darryl spat. He was surprised at the venom in his own tone. Dr. Blade laughed. " What's so funny?"
" Is there really a difference," he mused. He checked his wrist watch, like he was waiting for something. Darryl was tempted to try and insult him again, but Techno spoke first, " That part's not a lie, anyway. We really are young geniuses. I mean, how could a normal person develop an entire company based around curing a disease they invented. It's unheard of."
It was confirmed. Darryl was certain now. The man kept rambling, " Of course, it was my idea to get involved in the more devious side of our work. We're almost done, and as soon as you're taken care of, we'll be in the home stretch."
" What could you possibly want from this," Darryl choked out. It was impossible to believe. These men, these prodigies, had based their lives around this disease. But now he was learning more than he'd ever hoped to. This disease was invented by the Big Three. Invented by these prodigies.
" Currently?" Techno grinned, tightening his grip. " Currently, I'm distracting a reporter with information until security gets here. You guys eat it up."
Darryl's eyes widened and he struggled, but it was no use. A security guard pushed open a door on the far end of the hall, obviously coming from the stairwell. Darryl saw Techno relax out of the corner of his eye, and felt the grip on his arm loosen.
Jerking his arm away, Darryl elbowed it back, nailing Techno in the face. He felt a rush of adrenaline fill him as the blonde stumbled back. Darryl took off, he couldn't use the fire escape before the security guards got to him. Looking ahead of him, he could see a few more guards stepping off the elevator. He was surrounded.
He noticed the door of the elevator closing slowly. He sped up, running straight for the crowd of guards. They braced for his impact, entirely unsuspecting. At the last second, he pushed off the ground and just barely made it through the doors of the elevator as they clicked shut. He heard banging and shouting behind the door.
" He's going down to the lobby! Get him," he heard one shout. Darryl gripped his head, gasping for air. The folder in his arms was heavier than anything he'd ever carried. He couldn't go to the lobby, they'd be waiting for him. There was only one other place this elevator went. The Cure Research.
The doors opened with a ding, and he stepped out into a poorly lit hallway. It wouldn't take them long to realize he hadn't gone to the lobby, so he needed to be quick. This had obviously been the science hallway before the SDC had taken over. Most of the rooms were dark, only the glow from the occasional abandoned fish tank gave off light.
It was quiet, and empty, just as Darryl thought it would be. Why have a Cure Research team if you didn't want to cure the disease? Techno's words echoed in Darryl's head. How would they devise a plan to not get caught? The only way the attention would be taken off the SDC's secret medical 'procedures' would be if they developed a cure, so how could they expect to get out without anyone knowing their true intentions?
Unless they already had a cure.
Darryl stopped in front of a large glass shelf. Inside, hundreds, if not thousands of tiny vials were enclosed. Darryl could feel it in his bones. This was the cure to the disease that had killed countless. Hoarded by the very people that had promised to provide it. There was probably more in their other locations. There was beyond enough to treat their patients. It filled Darryl's stomach with dread.
He reached for the handle, and the door slid open, surprising him. They didn't lock it? Surely it wouldn't be this easy. He carefully slipped a few vials from their container, pocketing one. He heard voices down the hall. He was out of time.
Darryl slipped two more vials underneath the glass shelf, hidden from view. He turned and booked it back towards the elevator. There was nothing helpful in this basement, he was trapped. He'd have to wish for another miracle.
He pressed himself flat against the wall, blocked by a stack of boxes, as the elevator dinged open. A flood of security guards emptied into the hallway. As he had done before, Darryl slipped into the elevator right before the door had closed. Where to next? They'd be searching the Cure Research lab for a bit, as they hadn't seen him leave. The lobby wasn't safe, period.
His mind flashed back to that fire escape. Hopefully, the security guards thought he wasn't stupid enough to go back to the Office floor. They weren't aware of how stupid he was willing to be.
The elevator clicked open, and he was right. The hall had been abandoned. He ran to the fire escape, shoving the window open and climbing out onto the metal stairs. He was two flights down when he heard yelling from above him, but they didn't pursue on foot.
Darryl realized this as his feet hit the sidewalk. He was sprinting past when he heard an engine roar to life. A black van followed at a distance. He'd forgotten about the vans. He had no choice but to keep running. He clutched the file closer to his chest, checking over his shoulder every few seconds. He had nothing on his mind besides escape. He needed to get the files to safety.
He didn't notice the group gathered at the corner of the street. Two boys laughed at something on their phones. A man in a fox mask stretched, and another man in a deer hoodie had his eyes trained on his phone. A group of three more men stood towards the back, only one of them noticing the reporter barreling down the street.
Darryl crashed head-first into the crowd, falling to the ground and taking a few of them down with him. The file spilled out, papers flying everywhere. He hurriedly snatched them up, not bothering to apologize. His eyes darted around, finally landing on the paper that a brunette man was reading. He stole it from him. " Thank you," he said curtly.
He took off again, the black van slowing as it turned the corner to follow him. Darryl veered off onto a side street, where it would be harder for them to follow. He skidded to a stop in front of a small white house. He knew the guy that lived here, but they hadn't talked in ages.
Darryl knocked on the door, checking over his shoulder constantly. A shorter man opened the door, wearing a light blue hoodie and sweatpants. " Zak," Darryl breathed out heavily.
Zak's eyes widened. " What the hell, man," the younger cursed. " I haven't spoken to you in weeks and suddenly you show up at my door like this? What kind of fucking joke do you think I am."
" Zak, please listen," Darryl cried out. The other man's eyes widened when Darryl didn't snap at him about language. " I've gotten myself into a pickle. Please, I need you to hide this."
He shoved the file into Zak's arms, and pulled the vial from his pocket, giving that over too. The man was stunned. " What happened?"
" I don't have time to explain," Darryl sobbed, tears running down his face now. He kept checking over his shoulder. " I just need you to know that I know I've been an awful friend. I want to hang out with you more, I've just been in such a slump. I haven't had the motivation to even get out of bed in the morning."
Darryl's eyes widened at the sound of a car driving by. It wasn't the van yet, but he was running out of time. He turned back to Zak, pulling him into a hug. " I don't have time to tell you everything, but I want to."
" If I'm not back for that in 2 weeks, take it to the news station." Darryl released Zak and backed away. " You're my best friend, Zak."
With that, he took off down the street. The black van turned the corner, speeding up at the sight of him. Good, he thought, they didn't see him at Zak's house. He let them follow him, cornering him when he couldn't jump a fence. He was too tired, he couldn't fight any more. A man raised a small gun and fired it. A tranquilizer.
He passed out.
~~~~
The scene melted away, leaving Darryl, George, Clay, and Tommy standing in a black room. The four all had looks of horror or shock ingrained on their faces. Darryl sighed. " I'm scared of so many things," he started. " That my brain can't even pick one. I figured this might show you what I wanted you to see."
The scene faded back in, colors bleeding together like paint on a canvas. George gaped when he found they were back in that same room he'd been half-awake in. He could see his sleeping body on a cot next to Clay's. Tommy, Toby, Fundy, Callahan, and Nick slept on their own cots.
His heart tightened at the sight of Fundy and Callahan. They were alive in this memory. They were already in that dreaded hallway, where they would meet their tragic ends. It was torture to see them again, as if their deaths didn't replay in his head constantly.
There was only one cot that sat separated from the group. Darryl's body was on this one, except he was awake. He fought against his restraints, trying to scream through the gag. A nurse stood over him, readying a needle. She held it to his wrist, right where he'd once claimed to have been bitten by that mysterious bug.
She injected something into him, and after a minute, his struggling lessened. His eyes drooped, and he fell into the eternal slumber. The nurse snorted. " Let's hope he never wakes up."
The scene fell away again. Darryl turned to them, waiting to see their reactions. Tears spilled down Tommy's cheeks. " You," he stammered. " You were the man who bumped into us."
Darryl nodded solemnly. " Is that why we're here?" George looked up, surprised by Clay's sudden question. His voice dripped with anger. " Are you the reason we're all dying?"
Darryl nodded once more, without hesitation. George felt his world collapse around him. His knees gave out, and Clay caught him before he could fall. Darryl looked away, eyes filled with regret. " I wish I could've done things differently," he whispered. " I know you're angry."
" Beyond angry, actually," Clay scoffed.
" But this isn't about me." Clay stopped, wincing like he'd been struck. Darryl locked eyes with him. " I need you to survive. I need you to tell everyone."
" I don't want to be wrapped up in this," Tommy cried. George's mood dampened further. This boy, this teenager, was being subjected to all of this suffering because of the Big Three. " I wanna go home!"
Clay moved to shout at Darryl again, but George held up a hand. Darryl clutched his chest, coughing wildly. He fell to the floor, blood on his hands. " I don't have much time," he wheezed. Clay sucked in a breath. " They gave me a bigger dosage than they gave any of you. They want me dead."
George pushed away from Clay and ran to Darryl's side. The reporter smiled, putting a hand on the brit's shoulder. " Please, tell Zak I'm sorry. He's my best friend, he has to know that," he said, his voice barely audible. " Save them."
Finally, he collapsed to the ground, and his body began to glow.