Micah's fingers twitched nervously against metal desk. He wasn't sure if the nerves were from the last dredges of colke dissipating from his system, or the mental anguish of having been a presented a puzzle that even he, Micah Scofield, could not solve.
How was Soldier #524 alive?
The DraC-2 virus should have consumed his cells by now. Rip his chromosomes apart, decay his DNA structure until the virus alone controlled the host body. But no - it was in him. And so were his cells, his chromosomes. Untouched, flourishing. He had felt the strength under the soldier's skin, seen his eyes, bright and alert. It was like he and the virus agreed to coexist peacefully, the virus flitting around his bloodstream, a passenger and not a conqueror.
It frustrated Micah. Micah, who felt comfort in the natural laws of the world, who knew everything that could and should happen, because gravity and time and life could all be predicted and explained, deconstructed in neat formulas and lines of data.
But not this soldier. Not Major Sigurd. Damnit, the man had been eating so viciously at Micah's head that he even remembered his name. Saw his face every time he closed his eyes, tasted him at the back of his throat.
A fist sized blossom of plaster in the wall behind him showed just how effectively Sigurd had infected him.
Someone entered his lab. He heard the soft hiss of the doors as they parted, the deep echo of boots meeting sterile tile. His hands gripped the edge of the steel table, knuckles white. His gut told him who it was, like a foul wind distressing the hairs on the back of his neck - never mind that Micah himself called him into his lab.
"Major Sigurd," Micah breathed. He was never good at hiding his emotions, simply because, he never believed he needed to. He didn't feel emotion, he observed it. But rage... what was normally ice in Micah, sullen and hidden, seethed into a slow burning fire.
He turned around. Thought he could keep composed, but under North's gaze, smug and teasing, as if he knew the anguish he was putting the scientist through for the past month, Micah felt his nerves crumble. The scientist lunged forward. If Micah were stronger, North weaker, he could have shoved him straight into a fridge containing Infected samples worth more than both of them. North's frustratingly solid stance didn't deter Micah, as the scientist hissed, "What.. the hell... are you!?".
Posted 01-27-2024, 01:49 PM
Do You Think Blood Will Stain?
