Dr. Krane marched through the abandoned hospital halls, accompanied by four security guards. With this being his creation, he was supposed to administer the cure. He stayed far behind the line of security guards. One man, a tall fellow, was at the front. He had dark skin and a black short-sleeved shirt. A Kevlar vest covered his torso. He had black gloves on, which gripped a large automatic rifle. The team moved quickly. Once at the door of the Patient’s room, the four men moved into their planned positions. After a brief count, they opened the door and stormed in. The patient had no time to react. The two men in the front moved into the room first. The other two men followed with a large net held between them. The net looked like barbed wire but did not sway one bit, as if made of solid steel. They charged Patient Zero, both men going on opposing sides of him. The Patient barked out black blood as the metallic net hit him. Like a napkin being folded, he was forced onto the bed. The men with the net took their respective side and attached it to the bottom of the bed. The patient was detained, swaddled aggressively by his new cage. Dr. Krane slowly crept forward after the man with the black shirt yelled; “Clear!”
Krane peered through the open doorway. The room no longer looked as it once did. All walls and the mirror, through which the patient could be observed, were covered in dark coloured blood and mucus. The Patient lay dormant again. He approached the bed with the correct formula inside an injection. He reached forward towards the Patient’s limp arm. Trembling, his hand eased closer with the needle held in between his fingers.
“Tell me what’s happening.”
The voice burst forward from an intercom speaker into Dr. Krane’s ears like a bee sting. His heart clenched and his whole body jerked in shock. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly.
“Yes, Asha.” He answered, opening his eyes.
He found a place on the Patient’s arm through the metallic net.
“I have found the point of insertion.” He began, “I am approaching the Patient to administer the treatment.”
Dr. Krane inserted the injection.
“It’s done.” He finished.
The Patient’s arm was in a sad state. His skin was a light gray and his black blood veins could be seen clearly. The Patient’s breathing began to decrease. Like a balloon slowly being deflated, his body seemed to relax. The tension in the entire room changed. The four men accompanying Dr. Krane eased themselves and pointed their weapons towards the ground and away from the Patient.
The boy opened his mouth as if to gasp for air. The men tensed their arms again. Dr. Krane took a small step backward. He could hear the static of the intercom from the other room. Asha’s finger was on the speaker button, but she was not saying anything. It was as if the whole world stood still, waiting to react.
The boy’s lips spread apart revealing black teeth. He let forth a groan, different from his previous ones; there wasn’t any mucus or blood accompanying the pain-filled noise. As if answering the long-anticipated question of those surrounding him; the boy yelled. Clearly. He put his shoulders back and stuck his chest out. He screamed.
“He feels pain…” Asha said through the speaker, in astonishment.
In disbelief, Dr. Krane whispered to himself; “It worked.” He began to weep. Gasping for air, he fell to his knees before the bed on which the boy lay. Through his tears, Dawson smiled. Closing his eyes, he looked up and yelled; “Thank you, God!”