The Fierce Reads Anthology(38)

Cha gave another thumbs up, indicating that the air circulation within the room had ceased.



On a small lab table set directly in front of the viewing glass was the release mechanism. A small metal clamp and a robotic arm held the two ends of a minute glass ampule. Inside the ampule was .005 ml of the MORS compound.



At the back of the lab was a tablet set to display the time, down to the millisecond.



James had handled it, in the lab. Between his gloved fingers, he had held the ampule to a light. He had thought he could see it. A gray residue.

Point oh-oh-five milliliters of MORS looked like a tiny smudge.

It could contaminate everyone in the lab, if it was released into the air. If he, say, dropped it in the hallway, they’d all be suffering its effects within minutes.

Dr. Massey directed me to release the compound and I triggered the mechanism from my tablet.



They were listening over the intercom system. And with a tiny whirr, the robotic arm moved down and the glass ampule snapped.

The clock began running.

For a moment, nothing.

Then O’s head snapped back as he inhaled. A slow, mean smile spread on his face while A, two beds over, started coughing.

Blisters sprang up on A’s skin. He started to whimper as welts sprang up over his face and arms. It looked like he was developing heat rash, or hives, but in fast motion.

Four seconds and already A was in trouble. James glanced at Dr. Massey. She looked enthralled, her eyes flitting from one subject to another.

The brass was equally enthralled, but Dr. Savic was looking at the floor, rubbing his jaw.

O roared. His veins were throbbing in his neck. He thrust himself forward, straining against the bonds.

The effects took place instantaneously. The O test subject began to buck and try to free himself from his bonds. The A test subject began to blister up. Subjects B and AB, however, showed no signs.



And that was the problem.

Of course B would show no signs. But AB, well, Massey had hoped to see some outward demonstration of his inward distress.

AB should be feeling intense paranoia and be suffering hallucinations. Instead he seemed frozen in fear—not unlike how he had looked before the demonstration had begun.

Seven seconds now and O was rocking the bed back and forth, driven to a furious despair—bloodlust was coursing through him and he was unable to kill anyone.

A was blistering too quickly. He wasn’t going to last thirty seconds. No way. The blisters were popping now, tiny dots of blood appearing all over his body and him screaming.

“Dr. Massey?” James asked. “Now?”

“Hey!” Ceglowski yelled. “That’s enough! You’re killing him!”

Savic’s head shot up and he stepped towards the glass.

“Massey—” Savic warned.

“Wait for it,” Massey said, holding her hand out. She was focused on AB. Waiting for him to break.

At approx. 9 seconds into the presentation, I asked Dr. Massey for permission to press the kill switch and end the demonstration by releasing the gel.



A was starting to writhe and beg.

O had snapped a leg restraint.

“Dr. Massey!” Dr. Savic repeated.

“Wait!” Massey said, raptly focused on AB.

AB finally screamed—a high-pitched scream utterly shot through with terror and hysteria and pure madness.

“Now!” she shouted and James pressed the button.

But the gel didn’t trigger.

At approx. 11 seconds, Private Victor Gruin (the type O subject) burst free from his restraining bonds. I repeatedly pressed the trigger for the gel. The mechanism had failed.



“It’s not working!” James shouted, pressing the button again and again. Savic grabbed the tablet from him and pressed the button himself.

A was slippery with blood now, thrashing wildly against his bonds.

“Get us out of here!” Ceglowski shouted.

Everyone in the audience chamber was standing, watching through the glass.

With a roar, O snapped the chest bond and kicked the testing bed back away from him.

Shots were fired by the guard approximately 13 seconds into the demonstration, in an attempt to kill Private Gruin. The shots were unsuccessful.



O was on the guard in two steps. With a cry of joy, O began to beat the guard to death with his own rifle.

“Somebody do something!” Montez shouted in the observation chamber.

“Cha!” Massey shouted over the intercom. “Can you trigger the gel from in the room?”

Cha was cowering in the corner.

O had finished with the guard and turned toward Cha.

Blood type A was hemorrhaging freely now, more pulp than man, but still screaming. A horrible, wet cry.

“Hey!” Ceglowski yelled from his bed, seeing O headed towards Cha. “Hey you son of a bitch! Gruin! Over here!”

Eighteen seconds.

Private Ceglowski called Private Gruin to him, trying to distract him from Dr. Cha.



But O had Cha in his arms and crushed his rib cage with his bare hands, throwing the young doctor down on the floor like an old doll.

In the viewing room, Montez shouted to his aide. “That’s it! Give me your gun!”

“You can’t shoot through the glass!” James warned. The bullet would bounce back—it would ricochet.