“Wouldn’t that just be an honest to goodness slap in the face, being immune?” I laughed, then frowned. “Look, it will be done soon enough. I need to coordinate the effort. I can only do that from here.” I pointed at the ground. The idea of jumping didn’t escape me, though I doubted I ever had the ability to do so much. After all, I had so much left to do.
“But Jackson…” Phillips said.
“Get yourself to that helicopter, now,” I ordered.
The blades against the wind signaled that the helicopter was coming closer. The copter swirled in, landing against the helipad just above us on the roof.
“Look, I’ll walk you up. But you get into that damn helicopter, get to South Carolina, and you lock yourself up in that damn vault,” I said.
Phillips sighed but nodded. There was no point in arguing with me. I was, after all, the boss. Together we set out to the stairs and traveled them quickly. Coming to the helipad, he looked back at me.
“You’ll figure it out! I know you will! Just have faith!” Phillips shouted over the roar of the copter. I simply nodded, not wishing to let him continue. I pointed, directing him. He stuck out his hand, and we shook. This was most likely the last time I would see Roger L. Phillips again, and prayed he would survive this.
The helicopter had my father’s business logo etched on the side Bennis Industries. Looking back to Phillips, I held out my hand, waving, praying for his safety. The chopper took off, aiming east, carrying so much precious cargo.
It wasn’t meant to kill us. It was meant to save us. I tried to blame everything. The materials, the facts, the lab conditions, and even my assistants. Yet the real blame was on me for creating the damn virus.
Chapter 22: A New World
My eyes snapped open. I didn’t understanding where I was. Then it hit me. The creatures should still outside the car, trying to claw their way inside.
But they weren’t. In fact, they were completely gone. It was as if they had never existed at all. I lay back down on the seat of the car and lifted the sphere above my head, watching it pulsate with its slow tick. I checked my pant leg. There was no tear in the fabric, and I wasn’t bleeding. Maybe it was all an illusion after all? One hell of a strange one that would convince me my inner self was slipping further into madness.
What the hell? I thought. What was this? Where were they? A dizziness overcame my senses and I twisted in the seat. Maybe it was one of my hallucinations. An incredibly real and terrifying one.
I ran over the dream, vision or whatever it was in my mind and watched on. Pieces were falling together, but there were still holes. But there was one fact I could rest my thoughts on: there was a virus. One that I had created. How, when, or why was beyond me at this point. It was a virus that had killed many, though I couldn’t really be for sure.
There was a toll on my shoulders, and it felt like a million hands were pushing me down. A virus could explain why the city was broken. The chaos that would arise during such a time, it could tear a city apart. The dream may have even explained why there were so few of us left. Maybe we were the point zero one percent who were immune? Yet that felt wrong. It failed to explain this five thousand effect, the barrier, or the importance of turning twenty-six. It was all a jumble.
“The Corruptor,” a voice lingered between my ears. It sounded faintly of Susan, her voice calling from beyond the grave.
“Liar!” Olivia shouted.
“The Sinner!” Kyle moaned in agony.
A multitude of voices ran through my head. Yet, I didn’t try to push them off. I had to accept them. Because they were right. I had done something to this city, its people, and maybe even the world. So I just let them in and rush over my thoughts.
“Not Yet,” Glasses’ voice cut out all of the others and settled on a defiant silence. “Only you,” he pleaded.
I know, I thought back.
“Get to it then,” Joey called with all his grit and faith.
I pushed myself up, found the flashlight and clicked it on. Climbing to the front seat and out the door, I glared at the diner from where I’d just come. The insides were still lit somehow, and the jukebox flashed with its yellow and orange colors, but no music filled the empty air. I was thankful no creatures lingered, but had they really failed to exist in the first place? No… they’d been in the jail. Joey had shot one. They had to exist, just not apparently right here, and right now.
I turned to the left and looked into the black. It wasn’t completely dark. We, in the living part of this city couldn’t see this from beyond the barrier, but there were buildings still alight even in this night, even after all these years. Tiny dots sparkled everywhere.
I jogged into the center of the road with the sphere held in front of me and the flashlight’s beam cutting a path. I was completely amazed at the surroundings. One entire skyscraper had nearly all its lights on. Electricity was coming from some source. A couple of light posts that lined the avenue still illuminated the streets with their orange glow.
A glass tower loomed to my right. Most of it was unlit, and it disappeared in the thundering clouds up above. The blue glare from the orb reflected off the lower panels.
A sign dangled near the center of the buildings, now toppled and hanging vertically. Tilting my head and aiming the flashlight, though it wasn’t much help, the words spelled out ‘Dylan and Dylan, Attorneys at Law.’ The sign waved in the wind, as if greeting the unfamiliar presence. Broken fountains lay in disrepair, and the years hadn’t been kind. Concrete foundations were cracked and falling apart.
Down the street from the attorney’s office was a big brick building. I moved closer, angling the flashlight up, and spotted a big cross at the top of a chapel. Floodlights aimed at the cross were still somehow functioning, though they flickered from time to time. Arches and pillars decorated the front of the chapel, while statues adorned a balcony and separate spaces near the roof.
I could faintly remember the idea of religion. Never more than a few pieces, really. I recalled Sundays, early mornings, some guy with a beard, wine, and that was about it. I examined the brick building. It appeared the west wall was falling apart, as a giant hole had formed near the base. The crack traveled all the way to the cross. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought a bolt of lightning struck the cross and caused the crack. Maybe the bearded man was angry no one came here anymore?
Switching my attention back to the matter at hand, I let my eyes rest on the distant skyline. My answers were that way, if any answers existed here at all. My feet carried on without me, as if traveling the world required so little effort.
I came to a halt and refocused. I had come upon a bridge with lampposts still shining down on the street. Traversing the bridge was too easy. No wrecks lined the highway, no holes so big I had to glide over them with only ropes for my hands and feet. Nothing slowed me down at all, like the world wanted me to move quicker to find what hadn’t been found.
A lifeless forest of trees and bushes awaited on the other side of the bridge. It was a park in the middle of nowhere. Plants, long dead from the lack of sunlight, bristled with waiting arms. Trees roots twisted out of the ground, begging for a drink. Most just remained standing, twisted, angry arms swaying in the wind, while others rotted on the ground. The ground itself should have been a thick, grassy knoll, but now only a patch of dirt remained. A warped iron fence wrapped itself around the park, and an entrance with a gate was locked from a heavy twist lock and chains.