Lost Humanity: Ground Zero

Stephen W. Griffin By Stephen W. Griffin, 23rd Feb 2010 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories

This will turn into a very long production. Lost Humanity has been a pet project of mine for a while now. I have kind of fallen behind on it, but that's about to turn around (I hope). To start, here is the prologue to the (hopefully) episodic release of Lost Humanity, a tale of the end of the world, because why play it along the lines of something mild?

Beoquadier inc. Research Facility, Boston Massachusetts, US 12:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

Beoquadier inc. sales rep Amelia Tell stood at the podium in the front of the small amphitheater in front of the arrayed testing volunteers, a little tired from all the rush to get the product out the door, and irritated that she had to put on the friendly face once again for a bunch of saps so hard strung for cash that they would play guinea pigs. They weren't even being payed that well. Of course, the product's supposed effects helped there.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is a pleasure to see so many of you respond to our ad. We here at Beoquadier inc. are grateful for your willingness to be on the very cutting edge of new and exciting research, and we have not exaggerated in the slightest about our offers to reward you for your bold efforts with our advance,” Amelia preached her line. Not the greatest speech for a company she’d ever done, but she wasn’t worried. It was a fairly large crowd though, especially for volunteers for medical research. Most of them were college age, and whether they were there for the money or product was anyone's guess, but they were the most likely to want either. What was it about higher education that made people so dumb? There were maybe three people who were old enough for Amelia to think they were without doubt past schooling, but then some people never grow out of being stupid. Or they were here for the drug for its actual intended purpose, a thought that Amelia didn't want to dwell on.
“Our research and development team, led by the esteemed Dr. Robert Struin, has created this miracle drug, appropriately named the Love Assistant, for you all to experience for yourselves. I’m sure many of you are quite familiar with it's general purpose, but I’ll explain just the basics for any of you who might have heard about us through a friend, or are uncertain what we are offering. The Love Assistant is a micro organism that works with your body to do two amazing things. First, it begins to help you produce a pheromone designed to make you irresistible to the opposite sex. With even a single whiff, your ideal companion will be utterly infatuated with you. And once you’ve sealed the deal?” Amelia paused for effect, grinning, “ The best sex you’ve ever had in your life.”
Someone towards the back made a cheer at that, with a nervous bit of laughter from the audience. Idiot, she thought. Amelia knew that all the tests and predictions showed that the bacteria weren’t able to do any kind of harm, but she hoped that whoever had cheered developed an allergy to it. That or if it did work for him, she hoped the bastard caught an STD. Smiling, she went on, “Our scientific team has gone to the greatest lengths to pre-test the Love Assistant on an array of appropriate species, and I can assure you that not only has the Love Assistant proven 100% effective, but there have been no complications in any of the tests.”
In fact, it had been all she could do for Amelia to keep Struin from including the hump fest the rat cage turned into out of the slide show. Sketchy bastard, he probably had a copy of the video at home for “research purposes”.
“Now I’m sure you are all eager to start moving towards the next big social life revolution, so I’ll get out of the way. Here is Dr. Struin, the man behind the product, who will answer any questions you may have.”
The Canadian doctor stepped up to the little podium, adjusting the microphone. He was a man in his late forties, slightly bald, with thick glasses and a number of warts. He smelled too. But all of that aside, Robert Struin was a creep. He had made a number of moves on Amelia since she came on the project a year ago to start helping to market the product. The man had appetites, and he didn’t have the looks or charm to sustain them. It was why he designed the drug, and it’s why he had already taken two of the capsules today. She was glad he was heading onto a plane to Europe in less than two hours, she didn’t want to be around him in case the “Love Assistant” worked as well as he said it would. Memories of the rat cage came up again, only this time with less sex appeal.
Struin cleared his throat and began to speak, giving his whole spiel on dosages and other details that the subjects would need. Amelia droned it out. She didn’t really care. She was there to sell the idea to them, just like she sold the idea to the public by “leaking” information about the research, just like she sold the idea to drug companies who would manufacture the capsules en mass, and just like she sold the idea of letting them use this large a test group to the FDC.
Struin was wrapping up his presentation., “… and so I will take the time to answer any questions now, while one of my assistants passes around your samples. Yes dear, in the back, what is it?”
The woman who spoke looked trashy to say the least, attractive, but dressed like she was used to being undressed. Or at least that was Amelia’s take on her. “So if I only take one, the stuff will still kick in, right? It still works if I take less?”
“Yes, there will still be an effect with a smaller dosage, but you wont see the full effect in such a short time as when you take your regular doses. We haven’t pinned down exactly how much is needed to reach the full effect yet, and so we are setting it to regular doses every ninety minutes, so as to give you the pheromones as quick as possible, without risking you taking too much. You sir, with the sports jacket”
It was the idiot who had cheered earlier. “So, is there a risk if we take to many?”
“No, not that we have observed in lab animals, however the very rapid change it would induce would cause quite the stomach ache I imagine. At least until your system caught up with itself. You sir, up front.”
It was a relatively small guy, and his friend next to him looked like he already thought that it would be a stupid question. “Are there any possible, um, side effects?”
Before Struin could reply, Sports Jacket yelled “Blue-balls!” to a chorus of shortly cut off laughter. God Amelia hoped he caught something.
Struin smirked, and merely replied, “No.”
It was true in the sense that there hadn’t been anything in any of the animals. He couldn’t say that for sure in humans, but it had been her idea to not mention that. As long as everything went right, it was no harm, no foul.
It was at this point that the assistant reached Dr. Struin, and handed him a pill case. He already had one opened, but this was for show. “But I can give you more reassurance than my words as to how confident I am that this will work. I can give you my actions. I will be taking the Love Assistant with you all.” Struin opened his pill case and took out a pink and white capsule, holding it up. “Will all of you please take out one capsule.”
They did.
“It starts here my friends. What you do now will be the start of a new chapter in all of your lives, where anyone is attainable for you. This is a new chapter not only for you, not only for us here at Beoquadier, but for humanity as a whole. You may take your first capsule, now, and know that from here on out people will not look at one another the same again.”
In a short while after taking the pills en masse the subjects began to file out, and Struin walked over to talk to Amelia. The smile he gave her made Amelia feel… dirty. Before he could say anything she cut him off, “Sir, you have a plane to catch in about an hour. It would be a shame if you missed the talk in the UK.”
Struin looked a bit disappointed by her cold dismissal, but he shrugged it off, “ I suppose I can have some… fun in London too.”
“Pig.”
“Maybe, but I’ll be a rich pig, and so will you, stop complaining.” And with that Struin gave her one last leer, and headed out the door. “ I assume you can handle the control group yourself?”
“Yeah, I’ll even agree to take a sugar pill with them.”
As Struin left, Amelia smiled. He was a bastard, but he was right. They’d be rich. Filthy rich.

Inner city Lowell, Massachusetts, US 3:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

James chewed his lip. It was itchy. He took out the pill case, for his sample of Love Assistant. He was due for his third capsule. The doctor had said it might take a while for it to take effect. James just hoped it worked soon. James was meeting his girlfriend, Becca, in a few minutes, and things had been strained. It wasn’t that they didn’t try, but the physical attraction just wasn’t there, and James felt that he was to blame.
It was why James had agreed to the testing at all. For Becca. He was really worried about losing her. More than usual for some reason. His nerves were so on edge.
And his mouth was really freaking itchy! Was it an allergic reaction to something? To the Love Assistant? James certainly hoped not. And where was Becca, they were supposed to meet up at this bus stop a few minutes ago.
James took out a capsule and popped it in his mouth. He swallowed it. God I hope this works, he thought.
“Hey handsome,” cooed the soft voice of Becca. James snapped back into reality and began to calm down.
“Hey you. How about we head over to that brewery-restaurant place and make a reservation?” James asked.

Fitchburg State College, Fitchburg Massachusetts, US 4:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

“My mouth has been kinda itchy, man. I think it might be that Love Assistant crap. I’m not taking any more of those pills, dude,” Steven Markizz said while piling up his laundry in the corner of the dorm room. There was a lot of laundry, taking up the entire corner of the room.
“Shut up Skizz, we’ll be fine. It’s probably a side effect that they didn’t know about because the test animals were all knee deep in sex way before they would have been able to notice this. Don’t be such a woman.” Jared replied. He was a hefty guy, on the verge of being obese. Taking the research capsules had been his idea in the first place. Skizz had only agreed to it under pressure, but it hadn’t taken too much pressure. Skizz was a bit of a pushover, with a small thin frame to match his relatively timid personality.
“But that doctor said there were no side effects! And why are we taking this now? If the only way to avoid this stupid itching is to get ‘busy’ before the itch kicks in, why are we taking it so long before Jenny’s party? What if it gets worse? What if something else happens?!” Skizz whined.
A voice from the other side of Skizz’s laundry pile laughed “Sucks for you guys. Told you not to put that shit in your system. You’re fuckin’ with nature man. You need to go natural. Au naturel. Go with Mother Nature.”
“Bobby, shut the fuck up. You stupid pot head. Hey, what the hell are you doing in Skizz’s laundry anyway?”
“Sleeping.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you are, you dirty motherfucker. It couldn’t possibly you skizzing to the smell of Skizz,” sneered Jared.
“Well, on that wonderful note, GET OUT OF MY LAUNDRY!” Skizz took a step forward and hoisted Bobby out.
“Jeeze, just trying to sleep,” Bobby stumbled a little, then regained his balance and sat down in a beanbag chair. “So, which of you wants to play some Mortal Kombat?”
“I need to do laundry. Besides, I don’t even like that game.”
“You woman. Alright, I’ll spend some time whooping your half-baked ass, Bobbo. Hold up, let me take another of these ‘Love Assistants’ while I remember. Such a gay name,” Jared popped a capsule into his mouth.
“I’m not taking any more, man. I think it’s what’s causing this itch.”
“That’s why you’re a virgin Skizz, and always will be. Women already have pussies, they don’t need yours.”
“At least he’s a natural pussy. Go with Nature, Skizz!”
“Shut up with that ‘nature’ crap, Bobby. Nobody cares- Dude, why do you always play a chick?”
“It’s a win-win for me. If I win, I get to say ‘you got beaten by a girl’, or if I lose, I get to call you a wife beater.”
“Well I guess you didn’t make me a sandwich today ‘Wife’, because the back of my hand is coming down!”
“Woah, when did I say I would marry you? That’s kinda gay man. You need to work out some issues.”
“Shut your mouth and play, would you?”

Thompson Residence, Boston Suburbs Massachusetts, US 5:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow!” Marissa Thompson cried as her mother lightly touched the infected tissue at the corner of her mouth.
“I don’t know what to say honey. I think maybe we should take you to a doctor. I think you are running a fever too.” Brittany Thompson, Marissa’s mother, was concerned. “Just stay right here and I’ll go get shoes on to drive you to the hospital, ok?”
As her mother left, a tear rolled down Marissa’s cheek. Looking around the bathroom, Marissa felt utterly crushed. She had wanted to be attractive. No one who mattered ever said she was pretty, no one liked her. When Marissa saw the ad in the College paper for the trials, she had thought it was her golden opportunity. A chance to be the girl that every guy wanted.
She went up to the mirror. It wasn’t working. Now, not only was she still ugly, she had these things, these boils on the corners of her mouth. They were a sickly yellow color, and they hurt. Her face was pale, her forehead sweaty, her head was killing her, and instead of being out and about being loved, she was here at home. Nothing ever worked. It was unbearable. Quietly Marissa sobbed.
“Oh honey. Honey, don’t cry, you’ll be okay. I’m sure the swelling will go down. Here, let me drain some fluid from that, maybe it will hurt less, okay?” Mrs. Thomas came back into the bathroom and began rummaging through the medicine cabinet for a needle and gauze.
“Will the ugly go down too?!”
“Oh, baby, don’t say that, you aren’t ugly, now hold still so I can drain this for you, okay?” Mrs. Thompson gently lifted her daughter’s chin and placed the gauze over the infection. She took the needle forward and pricked it, as a gush of fluid and stench came out.
Bitch.
“OW! Marissa, what the hell has gotten into you, why did you bite me?” Mrs. Thompson was sprawled out on the floor, holding her hand. The bite mark was bleeding, and had some of the puss from Marissa’s mouth on it.
Marissa stood panting over her mother, her mouth leaking yellow puss. She was as shocked as her mother was. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Mom, I’m sorry!” she began to help her mother up.
She felt so tired now, like she was bound in chains, but at the same time she felt like she was so alive, ready for anything.
“God Marissa, this bite burns, why did you do that?” Mrs. Thompson sighed. “I don’t think I should be trying to drive, I can barely control my hand like this now, I’ll call a cab and get us both to the hospital.”
As her mother left the bathroom, Marissa tasted blood in her mouth. It wasn’t her own, and somehow, that made her feel… good.
Marissa began to cry again.

Route 3 North, Nashua New Hampshire, US 6:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

Walter Collins pulled over on the side of the road, leaned out his window, and hurled. He felt awful, his head ached miserably, and he could barely stand to touch the growths on the corners of his mouth anymore. He thought he was running a fever too. Walter blamed that “Love Assistant” crap he’d been taking all day.
Technically he was due for another dose now. There was no way in hell Walter was taking another now though, not after this. He felt awful, and the only possible explanation was in that stupid pill case on the passenger seat next to him. He tossed it out the window, where it landed in his puke.
Walter sat there for a while, trying to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he thought about just how wrong everything had gone. Two months ago, he lost his job at the bakery. Only two days after that, he lost his already failing marriage, and was kicked out of his own home. Since then he’d been living out of his car. Walter had only a month ago been able to find work as a janitor at BU. The pay was awful, the people were awful, sleeping in a car was awful, the job was awful, everything was awful. Everything, everyone. Awful.
And then when picking up a copy of the school paper off of the ground, Walter saw the ad. $200 and a chance to win back his life. It was the best chance he had of getting Martha to take him back. His plan had been to take the capsules, go up to his house in Manchester, and seduce his ex-wife back to him.
Instead of getting him his life back, it did this. The corners of his mouth had swelled into giant disease ridden boils, and they hurt. His head hurt too. His whole body just ached.
He glanced at his pill case, lying on the ground in his puddle of vomit, the Beoquadier logo proudly emblazoned on the front. “You shady bastards… I hope you’re feeling this too, Struin.”
Grimacing, Walter put his car in drive and began to get on his way again. He spotted a sign for a hospital up ahead, and decided to go there. There was no point seeing Martha like this. It would only make things worse. Walter had failed. As it was, he wasn’t even sure he could keep driving.
Taking the exit, Walter began ranting at him self. All the failures in his life, all the things he could have done better, all the opportunities he missed. By the time he reached the hospital, Walter had systematically broken down every bit of self-value he had, all on his own. He added that to his list of reasons why he was so worthless. Walter pulled over to the front entrance of the hospital, opened his door, and tumbled out onto the ground.
One of the people by the door began calling for a doctor, and as Walter was carried inside he knew that he could stand, but he just didn’t want to. Not anymore. Walter had lost his hope, he had no future.

Delta Pi Frat House, Boston Massachusetts, US 7:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

“Dude, do you think Ross is still alive in there? He stopped wrecking the place like thirty minutes ago.” Trey and Mark stood outside the door to their frat president’s room, both looking scared.
Mark picked up the empty pill case that they had found in Ross’s bag. The one “Boss” Ross had said would guarantee he get whatever girl he ever wanted. As if he had a hard time getting laid now, what with his girlfriend Stacy visiting just about every night. “It says on here, ‘take one capsule every ninety minutes’.”
“Well Ross took all of them, so how many were there?” Trey asked.
“Twenty-four.”
“Shit!” Trey took a step back as he exclaimed, “ no wonder he’s acting so fucked up man, he’s OD’ing. Oh shit man, what if he’s dead? That shit overloaded his brain, fuck man, he’s like dead in there, we gotta go to the hospital or something. Shit!”
“We aint going to the fucking hospital man, no way, this is gonna look way too bad.”
“What are you talking about man, that’s our friend in there! That goopy shit on his mouth might be killing him man. We gotta fucking help him!”
“Yeah? You wanna open that door? Dude that shit was fucking sick, I aint going near it. He already bit Stacey, Kevin, and JJ. It’s only been like four hours since that and they are all sick now too. Like fuck I’m going in there.”
“Dude-“
“No. You heard him in there. He was fucking tearing his room apart. Fuck him,”
“You’re going to let him die in there?”
“I’m not going to get fucking chomped on!”
“Real brave Mark, you fucking pussy. He’s our friend, we have to get him and the others to a hospital. You can stay here, I don’t care, I’m taking the rest of them to a fucking doctor.”
“You wanna talk big Trey?!” Mark took a swing at Trey’s face, almost connecting, but Trey was too quick, ducking the blow. Marks fist connected with a wall, as Trey sidestepped around him and kicked out his right knee. Mark fell to the ground, where Trey kicked him until he was out of breath.
“Fucking prick,” Trey said, spitting on Marks face as he walked up to Ross’s door. Trey removed the knot they had tying the door handle to the one across the hall and opened the door.
“Shit.”
The room was a wreck, with the sheets from the bed strewn across the floor, the curtains had been torn off of the window sill, Ross’s desk was on it’s side, and the chair for it was in pieces. He must have been using the chair when he had bashed against all of the walls. The dents and holes from it were visible even in the poor light from the setting sun.
Ross was squatting on the floor, his back to the door.
“Ross, Ross you alright man?” Trey reached out and touched his shoulder.
“Gghleghh…” the gurgle that came out of Ross sounded… wrong. Ross started to turn around.
“Boss, you alright? I was worr- Ross? ROSS?! SHIT!!!!!”

Beoquadier inc. Research Facility, Boston Massachusetts, US 8:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

Amelia leaned back in her chair, “you know it’s a good thing that guy from the FDC was actually willing to take the sample as a bribe. I mean would you believe that Jim? I’d hate to think about what happened if they actually took a close look at all the corners we’re cutting on the human testing here.”
“I know, but I’m pretty sure I could have managed to keep the penalties to a fine if that had fallen through. I told you to go to Colten; he isn’t the most ridged of moral characters. And it worked. Besides, if all the free advertising you say will come from these people plays through, it will be more than worth it,” Jim Pertsine, one of Beoquadier’s lawyers said from the other end of the phone line. He shared a lot of attitudes and beliefs in common with Amelia, and she found herself mildly attracted to the man.
“You definitely called it. It’s quitting time for me, I’m heading home, it’s been a long day. I think the control group asked more questions about the damn thing than the people who were actually taking it, and I had to answer them all”
“The other group probably didn’t say much to avoid having to talk to Struin.”
Amelia laughed. “Yeah, that makes about as much sense as anything, take it easy Jim”
“Goodnight Amelia, see you soon I hope.”
“Yeah, me too.” Amelia hung up the phone and began getting her things together. It was nice to talk to a friend after a long day of phone calls with strangers setting up press dates and meetings with manufacturers. She knew what it took to make the Love Assistant a success, and she was doing it. Now it was time to go home.
Slipping into her jacket, Amelia started to leave.
SLAM!
It sounded like the front door to Beoquadier’s section of the building. But that couldn’t be right. There wasn’t anyone else who was supposed to be in the building at this hour, not anymore. The janitorial staff left an hour ago, and they were supposed to lock the door behind them. Although from the sound of how that door was opened, they probably had locked it.
“Hello?” Amelia called out, slowly creeping down the hallway to the door. “Who’s there?”
No response.
There were no windows in the hallway, and the light had been left off. Towards the end of the hall, where the light from Amelia’s office ran out, it was pitch black. Amelia tried to remember where the light switch was, and with a shiver remembered that it was at the far end of the hallway. In the dark.
“This isn’t funny! This is illegal, now show yourself, or get the HELL out of our offices!”
Still no response.
Every step Amelia took her heart raced. She felt so loud. Every step, as the carpet fibers moved under her feet, every breath, every beat of her heart sounded so loud. And it was all she could hear. Every doorway branching off of the hall was another opportunity for whoever it was to jump out at her, another pitch black doorway to hell. It was getting darker and darker the closer she got to the switch. And she could smell something, something horrible. As she finally reached the end of the hall, she started scrabbling at the switch. Amelia could feel the eyes on her as she finally flipped it.
“YOU BITCH, WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!” the ragged woman stood hunched over in the corner of the hall, glaring at Amelia. The woman had torn out patches of her hair, her face was pale as death itself, her stance shaky and unstable, and on the corners of her mouth there were open sores, leaking a foul yellow puss down her chin. Her breathing was heavy, and the smell came from her.
“Get back!” Amelia cried, stepping backwards towards her office. “This wasn’t us, you don’t know that, I don’t even know if you are one of our subjects, you can’t prove this!”
“Can’t prove it?! You lying WHORE! I know some of the other people who were there, I talked to them too, and you know what?” The woman began slowly walking forward, dragging her feet as if they were too heavy to move. “They are all like this. You did this. BITCH!”
“Listen, we can fix this, we can pay you more, please just calm down, I’m sure we can work something out.” Amelia’s voice was trembling, she felt like she might cry.
“Work something out? Work something out? I bit my little sister in the face! She’s only ten years old, and now she has this too you bitch! I don’t even know why I did it. Do you? Do you know what you did to me? You killed me, you killed my sister, we aren’t getting better. Bitch, we aren’t working anything out, you’ve killed me, I’m just here to repay the favor.”
“NO!” Horrified, Amelia broke into a full speed run down the hallway to her office. Before she could get there she tripped from her high heels and collapsed to the ground, spilling the contents of her purse. She rolled onto her back and stared in horror at the monster that was running in an awkward limp to get her. She began trying to kick off her heels so she could run. As she unbuckled the second shoe the test subject reached her at a full run, jumping to land on top of Amelia.
Amelia caught the pounce on her still shoed foot, and kicked the woman off with a grunt. Taking off her shoe, Amelia got up and ran the rest of the way to her office.
“Get back here bitch!” the test subject shouted after her, and slowly got herself up again and started to awkwardly run once more, breathing heavily. “DAMNIT!”
Amelia reached her office, slamming the door behind her. As she locked it she heard the test subject on the other side of it start trying to open it.
“BITCH!”
Amelia quickly slid her desk in front of the door, and started to position her cabinets up against that. Listening to the woman rattle off death threats, Amelia fell to the floor and sat, panting. “Shit, where’s my phone… shit!” Amelia remembered her spilled purse in the hall.
What do I do? What do I do, what have I done, shit, what if she’s right? What did we do wrong? This is a nightmare, SHIT!

Good Time Showplace, Boston Massachusetts, US 9:00 PM, GMT –5, April 4, 2009

Cherry walked through the front door of the Good Time Showplace, as flashing images of a woman covering her breasts flicked on and off above her on the small neon sign. “Hey Jonas.”
The large black bouncer just nodded politely. At first it had weirded her out the way he never really talked. But she had gotten used to it, and she knew that he was for the most part harmless. Unless you caused trouble. She had seen him throw people out, and he was dangerous. Cherry definitely felt safer knowing Jonas was around.
Cherry scratched at the corner of her mouth. It was getting itchy, and she was afraid she might have caught something. She and some of the girls had gone to a party the other night, not for work or anything, just for fun. And they had had fun, but if that itch turned into a rash, Cherry thought she might come to regret it.
As she entered the main room of the titty bar, she couldn’t help but think it smelled bad. She wasn’t surprised. Chuck, the manager, never really had it cleaned thoroughly, and so there was this stink of old booze, old sweat, and old piss all over. Cherry didn’t see how anyone could pay to be here, and she didn’t see why anyone ever felt it sanitary to sit on these benches. She suspected that if they ever had the place well lit enough anywhere other than the stage so that people could see their chairs, Chuck would be out of business. Cherry would be out of work too, but it would still be funny.
Not that Cherry had a say in how the place was maintained. She showed up, did her part on stage, walked around and let the patrons squeeze her ass a little, and then came home to pay her rent in ones. It wasn’t how she had imagined her life when she was younger, but then to be perfectly honest she hadn’t thought much about her future at all back then. That was probably how she wound up here.
She stepped up onto the stage, and then through the stage door into the tiny dressing room for the girls. The other eleven girls who were working tonight were all doing their makeup and getting changed. Cherry joined them, saying her “hellos” and chatting idly. Till Eve finished putting on her eye liner and walked up to her.
“Did you get ‘em Cherry?” she asked.
“Yeah Eve, there are twenty three in the case, so give everyone two, and leave the last on for me, I already had one.” She handed Eve the pill case, who then went around handing out the Love Assistant capsules to the girls.
“You sure this will work just taking two of them?” asked Lila.
“I asked that, the guy said that it would just take effect slower. This is even better than I thought honestly, now we can all benefit from this. It is supposed to be permanent.”
“You really think it will work?”
“It’s worth a shot. If it does, we’ll have every guy who walks in here by his wallet, this is perfect for us.” Cherry opened her hand for Eve to give her her last capsule. “Bottoms up girls.”
After they took them all, Lila grabbed her arm. “This better work Cherry.”
“Oh you know it will. Now even Jonas will be tripping over his own tongue to impress us.”
The girls all laughed at that. There was a quick harsh knock on the door, quickly followed by Chuck barging through it. “ Cherry, Lila, Pearl, you’re up ladies, get out there and make me some money, people are starting to show up.
Eve patted Cherry on the shoulder as she left, “Good luck.”
Cherry sighed. Her head was starting to ache. But it was all going up from here. Just a matter of time now.

Somewhere over London, Essex, UK 3:00 AM, GMT, April 5, 2009

Captain Donner scowled.
“Can you believe they still have us up here?” demanded co-pilot Heinz. “We reached London two hours ago, they told us to wait a couple of hours, and now they tell us that once we land we'll be waiting three more before anyone can get off the plane?! We have a medical emergency onboard, why the hell do they think that means they should take longer?”
“Well unless you want to lose your job over this, we sit here until we're told the doors can open. Besides, I wouldn't have wanted to land in the weather we had an hour ago. Listen, I would have liked it if they landed us somewhere else a while ago too, but that’s their call, not mine. Look on the bright side; the stewardess said that the first guy who had it was up and about now. If he’s recovering, they probably all will. Once we get on the ground this will all get sorted out.”
“Is that so? What about the people he bit. They got sick too. Nine people last we heard, two of them were Marcy and John. Those are our people. Beth said that both of them were almost as bad as the first guy, this Struin person according to the seating chart. And I think the fact that he’s walking around doesn’t mean jack shit. All he’s done since being up is try to bite people. John and the woman who’d been sitting next to Struin are both starting to try and attack people too. You really think it will be alright? How many more Jacob, how many more?”
“Doesn’t matter, we're already approaching to land, and once we're down, it wouldn't help anyone if we opened up and unloaded before they were ready for it.”
“Had they waited any longer to let us land, we'd have ran out of fuel-“ Heinz was cut off by the intercom from the head stewardess, Beth.
“Captain, the five sickest passengers, John, and Marcy all just made a push up the ship, they must have bitten nineteen more people, a couple of them got really chewed up. Janet was one of the ones bitten, and I haven’t seen Emily either. We’ve got the sick passengers all in the rear of the plane, but it won’t be long before they outnumber the healthy ones. We have a guy arguing that we should start killing them sir, what do I do?”
“Beth, I’ll make an announcement in a sec, but we are on our own for a few hours yet, ground control says there is some sort of problem with a plane that had a faulty wheel support, that rolled over, so we need to wait for additional medical personnel to arrive, so this is mostly up to you now. Try your hardest girl, that is all I can offer, sorry.”
Heinz turned to Donner. “You still think we shouldn’t just go ahead and open up anyway?”
“Yes.”
“Then God help us all.”

Tags

Apocalyptic, Drama, Duncreek, Episodic, Hopeless, Horror, Lost Humanity, Plague, Zombies

Meet the author

author avatar Stephen W. Griffin
Hello, the name is Stephen and I write what would mostly be classed as horror for the entertainment. I wouldn't advice it for children, but it is fun stuff all the same.

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author avatar Stephen W. Griffin
23rd Jun 2010 (#)

Lost Humanity: Outbreak, the next chapter in this story, can be found here -> http://www.wikinut.com/lost-humanity%3a-outbreak/nf.aqiwi/1tphz8p1/

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