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Red. Every one of them. Red.
Tears prickled against my eyelids. It took me a moment to realize what they were, and then I had to resist the urge to blink them back. Kellis-Amberlee never let me cry before. It was damn well going to let me cry now. Told you I was right, I said, trying to sound lighthearted. All I managed to sound was lost.
Bet youre sorry, Shaun replied. I raised my head and met his shocked, staring eyes with my own.
We sat that way for several moments, looking at each other, waiting for an answer that wasnt going to come. It was Rick who spoke, voicing the one question we all wanted to ask and that none of us was quite prepared to answer.
What do we do now?
Do? Shaun frowned at him, looking utterly and honestly perplexed. That expression was enough to terrify me, because he looked like someone who didnt understand the idea that before too much longer, I was going to be making a concerted effort to eat him alive. What do you mean, What do we do?
I mean exactly what I said, Rick said. He shook his head, gesturing to me. We cant just leave her like this. We have to
No!
The vehemence of Shauns reply startled me. I turned toward him. No? I repeated. Shaun, what the hell do you mean, no? There isnt room for no. No is over.
You dont know what youre saying.
I know exactly what Im saying. Rick was pale and shaking, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Poor guy. He didnt sign up for political assassinations when he decided to join the so-called winning team. Despite that, he met my eyes without flinching and didnt try to avoid looking at me. Hed seen the virus before. It held no surprises for him. Youre the closest thing weve got to a virologist, Rick. How long do I have?
How much do you weigh?
One thirty-five, tops.
Id say forty-five minutes, under normal circumstances, he said, after a moments consideration. But these arent normal circumstances.
The run, I said.
He nodded. The run.
Viral amplification depends on a lot of factors. Age, physical condition, body weighthow fast your blood is moving when you come into contact with the live virus. If someone gets bitten in their sleep without waking up, they may take the rest of the night to fully amplify, because theyll be calm enough that their body wont be helping the infection along. I, on the other hand, got hit with a viral payload a lot bigger than youd find in a bite, and it happened while I was running for my life, heart pounding, adrenaline pushing my blood pressure through the roof. Id cut my time in half. Maybe worse.
It was already getting harder to think; harder to focus; harder to breathe. I knew, intellectually, that my lungs werent shutting down. It was just the virus enclosing the soft tissues of my brain and starting to disrupt normal neurological functions, making normally autonomic actions start intruding on the conscious mind. Ive read the papers and the clinical studies. I knew what to expect. First comes the lack of focus, the lack of interest, the lack of capability to draw unrelated conclusions. Then comes hyperactivity as the circulatory system is pushed to overdrive. Then, when the virus reaches full saturation, the coup de grace: the death of the conscious mind. My body would continue to walk around, driven by raw instinct and the desires of the virus, but Georgia Carolyn Mason would be gone. Forever.
I was dead before the lights flashed red. I was dead the second the hypodermic hit my arm, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. But there was something I could do before I went.
Turning to Shaun, I nodded. There was a long pausealmost too longbefore his expression calmed and he returned the gesture, looking more sure of himself, more like himself, despite the tears running down his cheeks.
Rick? he said.
Rick turned to him, shaking his head. You cant beat this. Theres no beating this. Shes gone. You need to realize that. Shes gone, and Im sorry, but we have to
Get me the medical kit from under the server rack, Shaun said. I had to envy him the calmness in his voice. I couldnt have stayed that calm if he were the one undergoing explosive viral amplification. The red one.
What do you
Do it!
The words were barely out of his mouth before Rick was rushing to the front of the van, digging under the seat for the med kit. Mom packed it for us a million years ago, for use in absolute emergency. When she put it in my hands, she said she prayed wed never have to use it. Sorry, Mom. Guess we let you down good this time. But hey, at least the ratings will be high.
I let out a long, shuddering sigh that somehow transformed into hysterical giggling. I bit my tongue before the giggles could turn to sobs. There wasnt time for that. There wasnt time for anything except the red box, and the things it held, and maybemaybe, if I was luckyone last article.
Rick came back to Shauns side, holding the box at arms length. His expression was cold. He didnt think Shaun would be able to do it. He didnt know him as well as he thought he did. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the seat, suddenly tired.
You can go now, Rick, I said. Take my bike and the gray backup drive. Get as far away as you can, then hit a data station and upload everything to the site. Free space. No subscription required. Creative Commons licensing.
What is it? he asked, curiosity briefly overriding his determination to see me dead. Bless you, Rick. A journalist after my own heart, right up to the end.
Everything I died for, I said. My eyes were starting to itch. I took my sunglasses off and threw them aside as I rubbed my eyes. Files, bank records, everything. Its just everything. Now get out of here. Youve done everything you can.