Resistance 3 - Chapter 4

4.

“It’s just insane over here,” Meghan complained.

“Come on, it’s like that everywhere,” Nate consoled.

“It’s not,” Meghan disagreed.  “Have you ever met an actively infected person?”

“Well, no,” her boyfriend admitted.  “But I have you…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Meghan knew the remark wasn’t intended to cause offense, but at that particular moment, she just felt like being offended.

“Well, of course I know lots of people who were infected.  But most of them had been infected for a long time.  Or since always.  They didn’t know what it was to be normal.  Not like us.  Not like you. They have nothing to compare it to…  Unlike you.  You were only infected for a little while…”

“I wish I’d never told you the truth, Nate,” Meghan said bitterly.  “I knew this would turn into a big deal…”

“I’m sorry…  I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I just can’t help it.  It’s just that I’m curious… You’re one of the few people who really has the whole perspective…”

“Oh, you’re ‘curious’, huh?”  Meghan retorted with venom.  “You just want to know what it was like for me?  To get turned into a mindless, horny slut?  For two years?!  And then just go back to normal, go back to school, and pretend it never happened?

“You’re not interested in all of that, are you..?  You’re only interested in those two years…  you just want to hear all the sordid details, don’t you, you perverted bastard?  All of the twisted, filthy nasty things I did when I was an infected little whore…”

Nate, shocked and stunned at her fury, said nothing.  Meghan knew that the extent of her outrage wasn’t reasonable, wasn’t fair to him.  And yet, she felt too that there was something of an admission in his silence.

“Meghan?  Come down for dinner.”

Her mother’s voice floating up the hall from the bottom of the staircase was a welcome interruption, obviating the need for any attempt to salvage the conversation.

“I’ve gotta go, Nate.  I’ll call you later.”

She hung up, attempting both to temper her emotions and ignore the sudden wetness between her legs.

***

“God, you stink.  Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“Meghan,” her mother admonished.  “That’s really quite enough.  Your brother’s had a long day.”

“I get that it’s hard work breaking rocks all day, but still, do I have to smell the experience too?”

“It’s construction,” Derek countered in a low voice without much vigor, slightly slurring.  “I’d love to see you handle a thirty-inch concrete wet saw.

“Probably cut you in half.”

He got to his feet heavily and went to the fridge, pulling out another beer.  It was only his second one, but who knew how many he’d drank prior to walking in the door.

“That’s why I go to school.  So I don’t end up doing back-breaking labor everyday for the rest of my life.”

“Will you two quit sniping at each other?”  Their mother, shaking her head, picked up the television remote, turning it on.  “Honestly…”

The three of them ate in silence, focused on the television screen rather than having to address one another.  Meghan’s mother scrolled through the channels before stopping abruptly.  

“Oh, look!  It’s your father..!”

Their father was indeed on the television screen, shaking hands with a highly decorated military officer, as thunderous applause played through the speakers.

“He didn’t say there was going to be news--”

“Shhhhh,” Meghan hushed automatically, wanting to hear.

“...think we can all acknowledge the huge debt we collectively owe to this man.”  The officer’s words became audible as the applause began to die down.  “One thing that’s often forgotten as we continue to recover and rebuild is that even if someone else had somehow developed a vaccine, it could have been much longer than it was.  The Lost Years could have been that much longer.  And the road to recovery would have been that much longer as a result.  The infrastructure --the world really -- fallen into that much more disrepair.”

Meghan bristled in her seat as applause broke out again, the officer waiting until it subsided before resuming.  If they only knew the truth…  “And as we all know, beyond the development of the cure, Director Anderson has done an excellent job in distributing it, leading the vaccination efforts as head of the Global Disease Center.  Just absolutely excellent.”

Fresh applause began as the man clapped Meghan’s father on the back, who nodded in turn, serious and solemn as always.

“Words cannot express the gratitude felt for the new lease on life we as a collective species have been granted.  A second chance.

“But as inoculation nears complete saturation throughout the populace, the Global Disease Center’s mission draws to a successful conclusion.  While many perils continue to threaten the survival of mankind, the Legacy Virus is no longer chief amongst them.

“And so as a reflection of our accomplishments and acknowledgement of all that we’ve still yet to achieve, it’s my proud duty to declare the formal dissolution of this once vital organization, and introduce tonight its successor: the Global Defense Command.

“As this organization evolves and transitions to its new role, we can feel confident that it will thrive in its new mission under the continued, steady, measured leadership of Director Anderson.  I can think of no one more eminently capable or qualified.”

The audience rose as one, clapping, whistling, a growing roar of approval.  The officer stood to the side, clapping as well, as Robert Anderson replaced him in front of the podium.

“Thank you, Major.”  He cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.  “Well, I can tell you, we’re going to save a ton, not having to re-do the monogrammed letterhead.”

The crowd laughed as he allowed a small smile on his otherwise grim face with his typical quiet humor.

“The plans I have for the GDC --”

“The GDC is evil!”

The television camera abruptly panned away from the podium, toward the aisle as a man approached the stage, striding forward, an accusatory finger outstretched.  “The Vaccine is not the answer!  No more forced inoculation!”

As he neared the stage, several security officers rushed over and grabbed him, but he continued shouting as he struggled.  “No more judgement!  No more persecution!”

The man was briefly obscured from view as he went down, several officers piling on top of him.  But then suddenly he broke free, knocking his captors off with incredible strength.  He reached into his coat, a small silver device held in his hand.

“No more GDC!  NO MORE!!!” 

The officers had just tackled him again when he detonated his device.  There was an enormous blast of bright light, and then the television screen showed nothing but gray static.

Meghan, Derek and their mother sat stunned, looking blankly at the television, the noisy, empty hiss of static filling the room.

***

Meghan stood in the doorway of her parents’ bedroom, unspeaking.  Derek was who knew where…  probably still unmoved in the kitchen, sitting in a stupor.

“Oh Lord…”  Meghan’s mother frantically threw things unfolded, unarranged into a suitcase, running back and forth, holding her phone up to her cheek with her shoulder, attempting to book a flight and pack simultaneously.

Meghan’s phone rang yet again, and she silenced it for the fifth or sixth time.  It immediately rang again.  She answered with an exasperated sigh.

“What, Nate?!  Now isn’t a great time..!”  she snapped.

“--I know, I just saw the news, it’s crazy--”

“I don’t have time to talk!  I’ll call you later!”

She hung up without waiting for a response, just as her mom slammed the suitcase shut and hauled it up, pressing past Meghan as she rushed out the door, fumbling down the stairs.  Meghan dutifully followed behind.

“--yes, yes, I need the first available flight. This is an emergency,” her mother spoke into her phone in a distressed, anxious voice.  “No, wait-- Wait, I don’t have time to get put on hold--

“Ughh!”  

She made as if to hurl the phone at the wall, settling for giving it a few white-knuckled shakes of frustration before holding it with her shoulder again as she pulled her shoes on.  Only as she wrenched open the front door did she turn to look back at Meghan.

“I’ll call you and let you know what’s going on as soon as I find anything out, honey.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be.  Just…  just take care of yourself, and take care of your brother.  Please…”

Meghan’s mother locked eyes with her own, and Meghan saw the worry and concern, but then for a brief moment, it was replaced by some strange, stark clarity and she knew that  just for that one second, her mother didn’t have her father entirely on her mind.  There was a searching, uncertain look in her blue eyes as they gazed at her daughter -- but in the next moment, it was gone.

“I’ll call you, honey.”

And then she swept from the house with a slam of the door.