Good. He could asphyxiate for all I cared.
I shoved the muzzle onto his face before he could react, holding his head still with that hand while grabbing the strapsand bringing them around the back. When I had both cinched tight enough to keep him still, I buckled it as tight as it would go.
It still wasn’t enough.
“Where’s the lock?” I asked, turning toward Strauss.
His eyes were already red-rimmed, and he had a goofy smile on his face. “The what now?”
“The lock! You had it last, dipshit!”
He laughed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the small metal padlock and dangling it from his fingers. “This lock?”
“You’re so fucking annoying, you know that? I’m not in the mood for your drunk ass.” I stormed over to him, snatched the lock from his fingers, and headed back to the operating table.
Subject 3X4V2 still had his head turned to the side, and he was making small whimpering sounds. I snapped the padlock into place and shoved his head. “Try and bite me now, you little shit.”
When he turned his head and looked at me, there was so much loathing in his eyes that it made me pause. The violence in them, the way he obviously wanted to rip my throat out, the intensity of his hatred…
And then I noticed the tears welling in his eyes and spilling from the corners down into his hair. He was still making those soft whimpering sounds, like he couldn’t even help it. And he looked?—
I shook my head. Who gave a shit?
His cheeks were already red around the edges of the muzzle. I trailed my eyes down his body, studying the thin shirt and thin pants.
It was winter right now. Maybe I should get him some?—
“Let’s fucking go, I wanna do this and get some dinner.” Strauss bumped my shoulder, and I wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or he was just drunk.
I grabbed the edge of the gurney with Strauss and we rolled it toward the swinging doors. The lights flickered on above us as we slammed through the door and made our way down the hall.
Even six decades after the end of the world, this place was still in working order. There were a lot of underground facilities like these sprinkled around the country. Like the powers that be had anticipated something like this happening, like they knew just what to prepare for. Like maybe the story that the lab leak was an accident was a lie.
Maybe it wasn’t an accident at all. Someone back then had wanted a highly contagious virus to get into the atmosphere and taint the world’s water. Someone had wanted civilization to collapse, wanted billions to die, and millions more turned into flesh-starved monsters.
Someone had wanted this Hell on Earth where the rain was red as blood and a death sentence for anyone that wasn’t immune or a carrier.
Or it really was just an accident. I’d never know.
We rolled the subject down the hall while he snarled and growled behind the muzzle, fruitlessly writhing against the straps.
He was back to his old self, it seemed.
That was fine, he could try to fight it all he wanted, he’d just tire himself out and then maybe be a bit less hostile when we presented him to the brothers.
They’d probably still take him even if they knew how unmanageable he was. They might be immune, but they were fucking crazy.
You couldn’t be here if you didn’t have immunity. And if you were a carrier of the virus we were trying to cure, you stopped being a person and became a subject.
Most of the subjects here didn’t give us trouble, but 3X4V2 was a goddamn headache that just kept getting worse, and I was so happy to be rid of him.
When we got to the bay elevators, Strauss smashed his fist into the keypad.
“What—don’t fucking break it, dumbass!”
I shoved him out of the way and typed in my identifying numbers. Adingsounded, and the elevator started whirring as it made its way down to us.
Strauss groaned. “Fuck, man, I think I drank too much too fast. You got any water?”
