With the fiery sensation in my eyes, I wondered if I was on the course of losing my eyesight. But my vision was fine. It was actually better. Objects appeared sharper while the contrast was crisper. It felt like I could see everything. I looked through the glass panel and zoomed in the instruments of the computer consoles in the other room opposite of this one. On the back of the monitor was a sticker with the build date of the equipment. Lettering that should have been too small was clearly visible.
My attention returned to the three others in the room. They watched in silent focus, clearly unable to understand what had happened to the unturned who was so recently here. I stared at the one closest to me. It was six feet tall even with a curved spine, its skin pure white. It growled in my direction but didn’t move as it continued to search the room.
“Whhhheeereeee didddddd itttttt goooo?” it spoke. The creature didn’t speak. Instead it somehow spoke in my mind. And a thousand voices answered, though I managed to push those aside.
“Can you hear me?” I asked out loud. Every creature jumped and howled as the sudden noise assaulted their heightened senses. This particular sound went against every instinct they possessed, and this new, freshly-turned human was so very different than the others.
“Whaattt doooessss it saaayyy?” the creature responded. Again a million voices answered, though I tried to focus on the one.
“Can you understand me?” I didn’t voice the question, only thought it. The creature spun on its heels. This time the many voices didn’t come calling. Only a few hundred questioned what the new voice had asked.
This had to be part of the turning process, to be able to communicate like this. Somehow we were now linked. Though for whatever reason, I hadn’t slipped into the darkness like they had. I caught my reflection off the glass panels. It appeared that the physical transformation hadn’t taken place.
My hands remained the same. No cracked skin was noticeable. No markings on my arms. Somehow, I remained whole. I pulled at the skin on the back of my hand and it snapped back in place. Physically, I seemed to be the same, though my eyes still felt inflamed.
I left the room feeling utterly different, yet strangely intact. The creatures followed. I couldn’t remember anyone that hadn’t physically as well as mentally turned. In all the trials, tests, experiments, simulations, and anything else we tried, the certainty of the virus taking over and rewriting the genome was one hundred percent if the person wasn’t immune.
I wasn’t immune, yet I remained the same individual. I couldn’t tell if this was God playing an awful trick or if he was giving me a second chance. Was this the terrible fate the other me spoke of, wishing the ultimate evil upon the one who caused the downfall of society? Or was it just another hiccup in my long line of failures?
I strode down the hallway, the blue hue continuing to flicker with life. But it was fading. The power source could hopefully run for a few more days. Or at least, a few hours. Keeping the barrier intact until I could figure out what to do was the key. How to deal with this new beginning was my target.
Coming to the stairs, I climbed up, leaving the creatures to fend for themselves. I needed to talk to Vincent, to unravel what happened, to make sense of this mess. As I climbed I continued to hear the mass of voices. Nothing sounded even remotely human. It reminded me of how animals communicated. Groans, moans, and screams came through more often than spoken words. I was able to decipher their language immediately upon turning. Screams were a language all their own.
I ran down the corridor to the ladder that would lead up, wondering what I should do. When I reached the top of the ladder I pounded on the trapdoor, hoping Vincent was close by.
“Just a second, Jackson,” Vincent said, his voice muffled. Soon enough the trapdoor lifted and I escaped back into the room. I spotted a monitor showing the feed from a camera that pointed at the timer downtown. It flashed with zeroes.
Vincent wanted to say something but couldn’t at the moment. Instead I just shuffled past him and took a seat at the computer console. I stared at the blank monitors, dropping the gun and clips on the desk.
“Do you have a mirror?” I asked.
Vincent was confused but shuffled over to a cabinet.
“What happened?” Vincent asked as he ran back over with a handheld mirror, placing it nearby. He looked frantic, excited, and beyond terrified.
“Something…” I held up the mirror and looked at my reflection. I knew it. My irises had mutated just like the turnings. They were now a deep, purplish color. It was like looking at someone else. I wasn’t the same, but I wasn’t completely different either. Altered maybe, but the word changed felt wrong.
The voices started again, frantic as Vincent. I tried to shut out the mass and listen to any coherent, single lines of dialogue. Something was happening. The entire horde was moving towards the barrier.
“Shit,” I said, tossing the mirror onto the metal console. I got up and exploded through the door, into the dark world. Vincent followed behind, not knowing what to think.
“Jackson, what’s going on?” he asked. He was examining me like a project, as if trying to understand the outcome of some hypothesis he was testing. He had to construct some sort of idea of what had happened down in the installation when the timer struck zero. But this wasn’t his expected outcome.
“What does that timer say?” I asked.
I remained fixated on the voices. They gushed like waterfalls, too many crashing over the others. It was beyond my control at this juncture to communicate effectively with any of them.
“It, umm, it… ran out?” Vincent questioned.
“It did,” I said without turning around. If I ran now I could make it to the barrier within maybe an hour. I could follow the voices there. They were excited. They understood the barrier was failing. Soon they would be released from the darkness that kept them trapped.
“So, you’re immune then. That’s great!” Vincent exclaimed.
“Not quite,” I said and turned around to face Vincent. “I can hear them. All of them. From this city to the next. Even the ones overseas.”
“Huh?”
“Vincent, I turned.”
“You what!” Vincent scrambled backwards as if I would suddenly leap out and attack with my apparently hidden claws. He ran back inside and yanked one of the guns off the console. He aimed it at me, his hand shaking. I couldn’t blame him. He had lived in the darkness with the incessant screams of these creatures for too long not to arm himself when confronted by one.
“And I didn’t turn. It’s hard to explain. I can feel them, hear them. But I’m really not one of them,” I explained.
Vincent didn’t lower his gun. He kept it pointed at my chest. I walked back into the building and closed the door, hoping it would ease his mind.
“Don’t move!” he challenged, backpedalling away from me.
“Look,” I said. “We don’t have time for this. The power source is failing and that barrier will fall soon. The creatures will run rampant through the city. They will kill everyone. We can’t let that happen, now, will you help me?”
“How can you stand here if you turned? You’re on the wrong side of the barrier!” He didn’t even hear my plea. The gun rattled in his hand. He wasn’t going to be able to help me like this. All he saw was a creature that was no longer human, even though I physically remained the same. I wondered if turning while within the barrier made me immune to the five thousand effect.