Sedulity 2: Aftershock (Sedulity Saga) (24 page)

“You bastard!” she blurted. “Of course it’s more
than a sterility virus. I just told you that to make you feel better about
spreading it. And what’s the harm in that? You were going to die anyway. But
now you’ve killed me too! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I don’t like to be used and
lied to,” I replied as smoothly as possible. “I was thinking that since you
want me to take millions of people out with me, it’s only fair for me to take
you along for the ride. So what do you say? I’m sure the credit cards you gave
me will pay for your tickets to join me on this adventure. We could have another
few weeks of fun and games.”

“Fuck you!” she screamed and tried to attack me.

I backhanded her across the face and sprayed
another dose of the inhaler between us. She cringed away from me and started to
cry. The limo was pulling up to the terminal and it was time to make a
decision. I could have killed her right then and there, but I figured I already
had. Better to leave her in terror for the next few weeks to spread the virus
herself. With any luck she would go back to the Tabula Rasa base and infect the
rest of them. But I doubted she would.

As I grabbed my bags and got out of the car I
turned back to her and said, “Let’s start over with a clean slate, a
tabula rasa
so to speak. No hard
feelings. I actually enjoyed our time together. And just so you know, I’m still
going to follow through with the plan. My options were always limited, more so
now that I let the genie out of the bottle. But it puts us on even ground. So this
is your last chance to come with me on the vacation of a lifetime.” Linda just
cowered and cried on the far side of the limo.
 
I turned away and strolled casually into the
airport, smiling sadly as I walked through a crowd of strangers.

****

That would probably make a good ending to my story.
In truth it was only beginning. The real end is coming soon, at least for me,
but I still have a few hours to kill (pun intended) on this plane, so I might
as well write down the rest of it.

I wasn’t really supposed to use the inhaler in
SEATAC airport, but I did anyway. I didn’t intend to, but the TSA agent asked
to look in my bag when he saw the two oversized inhalers through the x-ray of
my carryon. I smiled and let him rifle through the bag. He picked up one of the
inhalers and raised an eyebrow. I told him I was asthmatic and was bringing two
of them because I was taking an extended vacation. Then I picked up the other
one and took a shot off it, puffing it out in the TSA agent’s face. That seemed
to satisfy him. I’m sure it also killed him, along with everyone else who
passed through that checkpoint after me, but I don’t really care. They were
just a few out of millions. I had committed myself irrevocably to the cause.

That scene was repeated several times at different
security checkpoints in different airports. It worked like a charm every time.
I also used the inhalers several times on each flight, once in my seat and
later when I would get up to stretch my legs and use the lavatory. I tried not
to focus on the other passengers too much, especially the families with
children, but I figured that they were taking a chance by flying on an airplane
already and this was just another way that their number came up. At least they
wouldn’t suffer a terrifying death in a plane crash, or the fear of knowing
they only had days or weeks to live, as I did. Of course I still didn’t know
exactly what would happen to me or them when the virus took full effect.

****

I actually enjoyed the first week of my
vacation
. I spoke passable Spanish, but
had never traveled through Latin America. Although I didn’t have a lot of time
to explore each city, my instructions did involve going to popular attractions
and landmarks where I would mix and mingle with the crowds. I was also told to
sample food from street vendors and infect the proprietors in the process. It’s
amazing how fast a popular taco stand can spread a virulent pandemic in the
heart of a crowded city. And, true to their word, the Tabula Rasa had first
class accommodations waiting for me each night. Either Linda hadn’t told them
how I betrayed her, or they decided to continue supporting my mission for as
long as I stuck to the travel schedule. After all, what did Linda’s life mean
to them in the grand scheme of things? In any case, I had a good time in Mexico
City where I even hired a prostitute for the night. I was only in Panama for
about eight hours, but I went to see the canal and took a public bus back to
the airport. Rio de Janeiro was a blast. I hit the clubs at the Copacabana,
dancing with half a dozen women before enjoying the services of two prostitutes
in my suite that night. My flight to Buenos Aries the next day included a
connecting flight in San Paulo where I used the inhaler repeatedly as I made my
way through the terminal. I only had eight hours to visit Argentina, but I
liked what I saw of it. All in all, my Latin American adventure was quite
enjoyable. The rest of my odyssey would be less carefree.

****

I was on the flight from Argentina to South Africa when
I finally decided to read Dr. Strangelove’s little black book. That was a
particularly long flight and I needed something more than movies to occupy my
mind. So I pulled out the little book. I almost wish I hadn’t. Most of it was
Greek to me. Lots of numbers and symbols and words I would have had to look up
if I cared. But after skimming halfway through I picked out some scary shit.
I’ll copy some of it here, since I marked the pages. If I don’t share it now it
will be lost forever.

Stage One of the Virus
is universally contagious and is spread by airborne and aerosol transmission,
as well as direct physical contact. In general there are no outward signs of
Stage One infection. However, approximately .01% of those infected with Stage
One will experience immediate allergic reactions resulting in seizure and death
with stroke like symptoms. The remaining 99.99% become vectors of transmission.
There is no known immunity or cure, although research continues on vaccines and
antidotes.

Onset of Stage Two
invariably occurs approximately 15 days after initial exposure to the pure
strain of the Stage One virus. This varies precisely according to the level of
mutation at time of exposure. For example, a subject exposed to the virus after
10 days of mutation will transition to Stage Two in 5 days. Initial Stage Two symptoms
are loss of appetite, dizziness, irritability, and shortness of breath.
Subjects report feeling an itching sensation inside their head. Onset of
seizures and convulsions is rapid, but brief, followed immediately by transition
to Stage Three and total loss of all higher brain functions.

Stage Three is marked
by unrestrained rage and aggression, including acts of cannibalism, accompanied
by a nearly total lack of cognitive functions. During Stage Three the subjects will
attack any uninfected person, but appear to avoid violence on other Stage Three
subjects. Observable symptoms include bloodshot eyes, foaming at the mouth, and
acute hydrophobia, similar to but significantly more pronounced than rabies. Stage
Three subjects spread the virus through blood and saliva with the most common form
of transmission being physical bites.

Stage Two and Stage
Three forms of the virus are not subject to airborne or aerosol transmission. Subjects
infected by Stage Three transmission go directly to Stage Two and generally transition
to Stage Three within 12 hours and as rapidly as several minutes if the blood
stream is infected. Transmission and transition rates of those infected are
100% with 0% survival rate.

That’s when I really started to freak out. Knowing
that I was infected and intentionally spreading a deadly virus was one thing,
but I had been thinking in terms of a super flu or small pox, maybe even Ebola.
This was something totally different and scarier than hell. Cannibalism?
 
Stage Three sounded like a description of
ZOMBIES!
 
And that’s what was in store for me and everyone who I had infected? It
took a while for me to get my head around that. When I did my first thought was
to dispose of the inhalers and kill myself as soon as I got to Cape Town. I
even convinced myself to take that exact course of action. So why didn’t I? I
suppose you could say that fate stepped in again.

****

The customs and immigration officers in South
Africa are real pricks. Some of them are white and some are black and they seem
to compete to show each other which ones are the bigger pricks. I must have
looked shell-shocked or drugged out when I arrived in Cape Town. I know I had
taken at least a couple oxycodone after reading that little black book on the
plane. For whatever reason, I was singled out when I presented my passport and
taken to a small room for questioning. I showed them the prescriptions for my
medication, both the legitimate pain killers for my cancer and the fake one for
the asthma inhalers. I explained that I was dying of a brain tumor and was
taking a final trip around the world before I died, which was why I only had
time to visit Cape Town for ten hours, and could they please stop wasting my
precious time with this nonsense. When they looked skeptical and continued
asking questions I picked up an inhaler and took a deep puff. I wasn’t as
pissed off at the pricks after that, confident that I had already killed them.
Eventually I was released and granted entry to their fucked up country for a
few hours. I took a bus around town, stopping to wander around a train station
full of people heading off to places unknown, and used the inhaler a few more
times before returning to the airport and boarding my flight to Cairo.
 
Yes, the pricks at the airport in Cape Town
had made me hate mankind enough to keep going.

****

Cairo didn’t raise my esteem for the human race
much either. It was dirty. It stank like shit. And there were a lot of pissed
off people yelling for and against one thing or another. I did enjoy the
helicopter ride to the Pyramids though.
 
Seeing those monolithic structures also got me thinking about the sum of
human history. Those ancient Egyptians didn’t have iPhones, airplanes, or
television, but they sure knew how to build something that lasted. Moreover,
they did it at a time when the global population could be counted in millions,
not billions. After the helicopter ride I went to the central bus station in
Cairo and dreamed about a world like that while I puffed away on my inhaler.

I looked down briefly on the Holy Land during the
flight to Athens. We were out over the Med, but the captain pointed out the
coast of Israel as we flew by. It didn’t look much different than the rest of
that part of the world, certainly no Garden of Eden, and I pondered why God chose
to make it such a special place that everyone fought over it. I didn’t really
believe in God, of course, or I wouldn’t have done the things I’ve done. But
I’m open minded enough to ponder such things.

****

Athens was also dirty, but didn’t smell as bad as
Cairo. Almost everyone in the country was on strike the day I was there. Just
about everything was closed, so I killed time by walking through a crowd of
protestors and killing them with a few puffs of the inhaler. They didn’t know
it yet of course, but they were soon destined to walk those streets
indefinitely. It took forever to hail a cab to take me to the Acropolis. It
wasn’t as impressive as the Pyramids, but it brought on images of post-apocalyptic
landscapes. I imagine that much of the world will look like that before long.
On the long ride back to my hotel I pictured trees sprouting out of buildings
and parking lots around the world, slowly reclaiming the land that man has
defiled. I finished up my day with a puff at a crowded street market where farmers
brought produce from the countryside and the people who owned the stalls had
nobody to strike against. The hotel I stayed in was nothing to write home
about, but it won’t be open much longer.

****

Rome! Now that was one city I liked. I didn’t even
use the inhaler much after I left the airport. I don’t suppose it mattered
though, since all the nice people I met were doomed by our encounter. But I
couldn’t just hide in my room above the Spanish Steps. I needed to go out and
see the sites, right? And Rome is a city best explored on foot. The Parthenon
was amazing, as were many of the fountains and statues around the city. Even
the side streets and alleys held historic gems. Some of the buildings are actually
built into the sides of the ancient walls of the old city. I took a cab across
the river and stood in line to enter the Vatican where I mingled with crowds
and did use the inhaler a few times. I even made a point of walking up to one
of the Swiss Guards and breathing on him. Don’t ask me why. If I were a better
writer I am sure I could bring you to tears with descriptions of the things I
saw and people I met. Actually, I probably am doing that now, if you are
thinking about how many people I infected there. I suppose my most memorable
experience in Rome was going to the Coliseum. It’s only a shell of its former
glory, but still awe inspiring. I thought about all the people who were killed
in the arena and all the people who cheered on th
at
carnage from the
stands. Then I learned that most of the Coliseum would still be intact if not
for succeeding generations who stripped the marble walls and seats to use in
other buildings and to line the curbs of the city’s streets.
 
That left a sour taste in my mouth, but I
suppose that any survivors of what is coming will strip our current civilization
of its riches too.