“The chimeric virus—” Gregory said, pointing his free arm at a coolant cell at the furthest end of the row, “—held a protein for dissolving healthy bone tissue and another, that was purely experimental, for rebuilding it, along with a dose of human growth hormone to promote the generation of cells. We were going to concentrate the virus in your facial bones and then make an organic cast replicated from your father’s bone structure. The cast would have been implanted on your skull and the secondary protein would have rebuilt the bones according to the cast.”
Quinn swayed before the man. The rain was calling him. He could walk into it and let it soak his clothing, wash away the swirling shock that cloaked him. He could forget.
“You could’ve stopped him,” Quinn said, tears blurring his vision. “You could’ve prevented all this.”
“You’re right. I could have. But my own aspirations were too great. We went ahead with testing on our first human candidate. His name was Rodney Fairbanks. He was an Iraq War veteran. He’d been involved in drug trials for years, especially concerning post-traumatic stress disorder. We offered him more money than he’d ever received before.
“The initial tests were very promising. Your father was ecstatic when he left that day.”
For a moment, Quinn was lost in the memory of his father dancing with Teresa in their living room, Frank Sinatra’s voice surrounding him completely.
“But something went wrong,” Quinn said.
“Yes,” Gregory replied. “The gene that encodes the contagion protein must have reverted after interacting with Rodney’s cells. It became an actively replicating virus once more. Every person that came into contact with him that day carried it from this building out into the world.”
“My father flew home that day on a public flight,” Quinn said. “He gave it to everyone. He helped spread it across the nation.”
Gregory shuddered and nodded. “It killed nearly everyone it came in contact with. The virus caused an enormously high fever that we were able to control in this laboratory, but worldwide they had no idea what they were dealing with. The abominations were a genetic anomaly I only partially understand. A genetic factor allowed a significant portion of the population to weather the fever, but they lost their humanity in the process. The abnormal growth of the bone, skin, and musculature, was caused by the experimental protein combined with the HGH. It was something we never anticipated.”
Some of his father’s last words floated back to him. Sorry, I’m so sorry. My fault.
Now he understood what he’d meant.
“Goddamn you. Goddamn you both,” Quinn said.
“I’m sure that He has,” Gregory said, looking up. His eyes darted around and his jaw clenched, the muscles of his face bulging beneath the pallor. “He’ll be awake soon, and they’ll return before long. You don’t have much time.”
“Who will? Who will be awake soon?” Alice asked.
“Rodney. He sleeps deeply part of the day, but he feeds the rest of it. I was trying to save him when he began to change and I…I couldn’t escape.” Gregory lowered his voice further. “I’ve tried not to eat what they bring, but he hurts me. He’s tied into my nervous system, and oh God, he hurts me.” Gregory gestured weakly around them, and a prickling sensation crawled up Quinn’s back like a many-legged insect. He let his eyes slide over the growth of bone flowing everywhere in the building, its reaching points crawling down the hallways, seeking ever outward.
Quinn began backing away.
“Please, you have to kill me, please,” Gregory begged.
“Who is he controlling?” Quinn asked.
“Them. All of the abominations that can smell the pheromones he produces. They communicate with the others through scent and tell them his wishes.”
“What does he tell them?” Quinn said, fear running him through like a lance.
“Come to me, come to me, come to me,” Gregory whispered. “They hunt and bring him food, and I have to eat it—you don’t know what I’ve had to eat.” The doctor began to sob and he suddenly convulsed as if hooked to ten thousand volts. His head snapped back, eyes rolling up in his skull while his mouth gaped open and a creaking moan slipped from him. It was a sound of distilled pain, the cry of the damned.