Vial #127

Chapter 21: Delay of the Disease

"What?" I shake my head, "that's not possible," I lower my voice after the shock passes, turning my head to assure that I didn't wake the others. The only movement is Jackson flopping onto his side and then drifting back into stillness.

I turn my head back around, staring at her stomach. Right above her belly button and a little to the left is a bite mark. Pus oozes out; the flesh around it is red and inflamed. "Why haven't you turned?" I ask, not expecting her to know the answer.

"My daddy always said that I was special," she smiles, a big toothy smile. "He said that I couldn't get sick."

"How is that possible? Did anything happen to you before all of this?" I ask, anything to find immunity would help, "Every little detail contributes to this, tell me everything," I urge her on.

"Well, I don't know if this counts but I think it has something to do with my immune system," She shies away and I wrap my arm around her, urging her to go on. "I was born with Primary Immunodeficiency."

"Doesn't that mean you'd be more likely get it?" I say, confused with the data. The spark of hope inside me dies.

"When I was really young, like three or four, they gave me a Stem Cell Transplantation, which helped strengthen my immune system." She pats her belly, thanking her immune system.

"Okay then, let's get some rest," I lay back down, allowing my back some slack, hoping for a moment to take in everything that I've just been told.

"But Emma, it's morning," she points to the sun peeking over the horizon with a soft glow.

I groan and then quietly wake the others. We need to talk. What if she's having a delayed response to the virus and can still get sick? When the others get up, I issue Diana outside so we can discuss our next steps.

"You guys, she's been bit but she's not infected," confusion swipes across their faces.

"How?" Jackson crosses his eyebrows.

"How do we even know that she won't get sick?" Will throw out the question.

"We don't," I say, the events still puzzling my mind.

"Can we just leave her?" Jackson suggests.

"No, she's a survivor, she's been bit and is still human. Doesn't that make you want to know more?" Outrage fills my bones at his suggestion. "She's just a little girl."

"I agree. Can't we deal with the situation when the time comes?" Aiden pipes up; his voice still groggy from sleep.

I no, but Jackson shakes his head in frustration, muttering under his breath. "It's all set then," I say and allow Diana back into the truck. The relief on her face is noticeable.

I drive this time, making Aiden sit with her. The speedometer is up high, well above a hundred kilometres an hour. With the road clear, I don't need to worry about oncoming traffic, I can just drive in the middle and make better time.

Will passes around granola bars to everyone but we must share water. With so many in our group, we use way more supplies than we had stocked away. I allow the thickly sweet crunch of flavour fill my mouth with the familiar nutty taste. Washing down the rest with a mouthful of water, I keep my eyes trained on the road, occasionally glancing at the gas gauge and speedometer.

The road continues for ages, sometimes curving up or down with the natural body of the land. As we go down, I loose sight of what's beyond, slowing down slightly, as if another car will come speeding over the hill. When we rise, I can see the ongoing fields and rolling hills that border the Rocky Mountains.

Time goes on, ebbing against my raging heart, full of passion for finding my family. The whole roadway is clear, going on for ages before being cut off by a black blanket of debris.

I can see the pile covering the entire length of the road. "What is that?" Will asks from beside me in the passenger seat.

"It's looks like debris, a lot of it. We'll have to go around." I slow down and point to an empty field leading around the barricade.

"Emma, wait," Aiden cautions me, leaning forwards with a pair of binoculars in his hands. "That isn't waste, it's biters. It's a swarm."

I slam on the breaks, causing my seatbelt to lock as I go flying forwards with momentum. "Holy shit," Will curses at the impact.

"Are those all biters?" I say, too stunned to believe it. Aiden hands me the binoculars and I take a look. To the sides of the roads are tents, all torn and tattered. This must have been some refugee camp gone wild; one person gets sick, they all get infected.

On the road, hundreds of biters mill about, just stumbling around over each other. Some are missing body parts, their skeletons showing, blood has stained the asphalt a deep scarlet tone.

"We go around," I stay, returning the device to Aiden. I slowly push down on the gas as I look for a way to cross over. To the right is an open field, fenced in by wooden poles with vines climbing up the sides. As we near the gate, Jackson offers to open and close it. I drive through and pause, waiting for him to rejoin us. Once he closes the gate, I expect him to hastily return but instead he freezes.

I roll down the window, trying to find out why he isn't coming. "Jackson! What are you doing?" I yell out the window while putting the truck into park.

"I think I see something," he points into the swarm, his gaze fixated on the point.

"What is it?" I shout, impatience conflicting with my curiosity. I put the car back into gear, hoping he'll get the hint and return.

He waves us over and I reverse the car until I am side-by-side, parallel to the fence. His face is flushed, his arms now hanging by his sides from fatigue from the constant waving of his to signal to us. "Emma, I think that's there's a car in there."