"Bloodline" by A.M. Guynes

Ari pressed herself flat against the cracked pavement. Her twin brother Rojer pressed his face to her shoulder, trying desperately to silence his coughs. The sounds of the nearby construction covered what little noise that escaped. It did not conceal the heavy footsteps of the security patrol as it passed by their hiding spot.

Once they passed, Ari counted to one hundred slowly before she and Rojer got to their feet. “The patrols are getting worse, Roj. You think they caught dad?”

“If they did it’d be all over the tri casts. You know, the whole great traitor thing.” Rojer smothered another cough in his sleeve as Ari glowered at the huge screens the government used to broadcast their propaganda.

“Come on, Rojer. We don’t need the construct-o-bots to call those security freaks back again."

“Right."  Roger took her hand.  The two of them needed the comfort the physical contact provided.  The two of them crept from shadow to shadow, all senses alert for any sign of the security patrols.

More than once Rojer was driven to his knees because of his coughing. Every time that happened, Ari stood as a nervous guard. She would hold his shaking body in her arms and curse the day her father decided to take on that last special project.

“Ari, it’s getting worse. I’m coughing up blood every time now,” Rojer said, wiping blood from his lips. He was hoarse, and even now that the coughs had subsided he was still shaking. “I don’t want to die like Joy did.”

“So? You’re not going to die. Dad and the others are working on the cure. We just have to catch up with them. Remember what mom and dad told us before we split up? We wait six months, and then we go to the lab. Dad promised us he’d have the cure by then,” Ari said reassuringly. Deep inside, however, she knew her words were hollow. Her father’s eyes had been dead when he’d made that promise. He didn’t believe it any more than Ari did. But for Rojer’s sake she needed that hope that her brother would live.

“I don’t think he’s going to find a cure, Ari,” Rojer said. “He and the others might have created the one disease that is completely incurable. Besides, do you really think that the government would let him offer that cure even if he does find it?  They"ve got complete control now.  All that they have to do is broadcast its lies on those damned screens and people think it’s God’s own truth.”

“Oh God, Rojer. Look!” Ari pointed up to one of the screens, her face frozen in a mask of horror. Rojer looked up and immediately wished he hadn’t.

There, in all their gruesome glory, were the mutilated bodies of Ari’s parents and older sister, and some of their friends. The street fell silent as the easily recognized klaxon alerting everyone to an urgent broadcast echoed through the streets. “After a concerted effort between the National Security Authority and the Department for Disease Control, the bio-terrorists responsible for the Alavedo Primary Academy Massacre and the continued debilitation of this country’s youth have now been brought to justice.

“Doctor Malkim Snyder, his wife and co-conspirator Doctor Anna Snyder, and their daughter Kloiee Snyder – a registered nurse at Alavedo Memorial Medical Center – were eliminated as they were coming out of their hidden laboratory. Three of Doctor Malkim’s former students, all of whom were coerced into serving his nefarious purposes, were retrieved and are now in government custody.

“The search continues for Doctors Renee Michaels and Briana Abbott, and their assistants Kim Li, Lucinda Marco, and Fara Kent. The search is also on for Ari and Rojer Snyder, Doctor Malkim’s twin children who were among the earliest victims of the plague. It is believed that the twins are still alive and are possibly responsible for the spread of the Alavedo Syndrome to the rest of the Eastern seaboard.” A picture of the entire Snyder family flashed on the screen, with Ari and Rojer’s pictures highlighted.

“We have to get off the street,” Rojer hissed, as people began to look around. He jerked his head towards an alley. “That way. We need to get out of J Sector. We’ll be safer in K or D Sectors.”

Ari half carried her brother as they quickly retreated. Following Rojer’s increasingly breathless directions, Ari darted between buildings and under bridges until they came to a very run down part of the sprawling metropolis. “Where are we?” Ari asked.

“K Sector,” Rojer said, gasping. “Ari, I’ve got to catch my breath.”

“Ok.” While Rojer attempted to force air into his dying lungs, Ari looked around for suitable cover. A familiar rattling sound came out of her brother’s chest. “No!”

Rojer smiled weakly at his sister, wiping blood off of his mouth with a cloth already saturated with it. “It’s no use, Ari. You know as well as I do I’m finished. I can’t run anymore. It’s like trying to breathe underwater. My lungs are desperate for the air but all they’re getting is liquid.”

“I won’t believe it,” Ari said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You heard the "caster.  Aunt Renee and Aunt Briana are still out there. They’ll find the cure."

Rojer didn’t get a chance to reply. Neon blue flashes and the sound of boots striking pavement warned the twins that another security patrol was coming. “Come on,” Rojer said. “We have to find cover.”

Too many of the derelict buildings were empty, affording no protection to the beleaguered twins. Ari continued to search, her fear of discovery growing with each of Rojer’s labored breaths. She dragged her brother out of what once must have been a magnificent cathedral and realized she’d reached a dead end. Looking frantically left and right, Ari saw a building that looked like it might be in good enough condition to afford them some protection.

Ari left Rojer behind an old dented dumpster. He used his handkerchief to muffle his breathing as she searched for a way in. By sheer luck she found an area where the wall had come away from the foundation. She was able to pry a section of it loose. She ran back and hauled Rojer to his feet. She lifted him onto her shoulders and carried him to the hole. With a bit of shoving she managed to get him into the building. Rojer lost his handkerchief as he forced himself through the tight hole. She followed and quickly pulled the piece of wall back into place.

“Let’s go,” she whispered. She pulled Rojer back up onto her shoulders and carefully maneuvered her way through piles of rubble and trash. “I wonder what this place was? It doesn’t look like a church.”

Rojer didn’t answer. All of his attention was focused on just drawing in one breath after another. As she made her way around yet another corner in the twisting labyrinth, she heard an explosion. “The…wall,” Rojer gasped.

“Damn!” She was getting tired. Rojer was still heavy even if he had lost more than half of his natural body weight. She needed a place to stash him while she looked for a more secure hiding spot. She saw a group of benches, half buried under what was left of a brick wall.  “Roj, hide here for a few while I find us something a little more secure.” Rojer squeezed her hand, and Ari had the sudden urge to pull him close. She resisted, and instead just squeezed his hand in return. He crawled into the pile of rubble and drew back into the shadows as she departed.

A few minutes later, Ari heard the security team’s excited shouting. Before she even realized what was happening, two shots rang out shattering the silence of the building. Ari convulsed in time with the shots. Pain burned in her chest and tears filled her eyes.  Rojer"s suffering was over. He was dead.

Something inside her snapped. She turned, intending on dying with her brother and ending it all. Hands reached out of the darkness and pulled her through a hidden portal and into another room. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Ragged looking men and women glared at her, weapons pointed in her direction.

“My name is Ari, and I was looking for somewhere to hide,” Ari said, her voice catching. Tears began to stream down her face. “That was my twin brother that just got shot.”

“Ari Snyder?” A woman dressed in well worn nurse’s scrubs came forward. “I don’t know if you remember me.”

“Ruthie Hansen,” Ari said after a moment of careful contemplation of the woman"s face. “My sister Kloiee’s best friend at nursing school. Yeah, I remember you.”

“Wait, this is that bastard Malkim’s daughter? We should let the security patrol take her then,” a middle aged woman snapped. “She and her Plague Rat brother brought the disease here and killed my babies.”

“No we didn’t. The disease was here before us. Just because my brother was in the advanced stages of Alavedo Syndrome doesn’t mean he was contagious. He’d already passed through the contagious stage before we ever left the lab,” Ari snapped.

“How do we know that?” the woman persisted. “I mean, no one’s been able to isolate how it’s even spread.”

“Yes they did. It was determined that the disease now known as the Alavedo Syndrome is passed through the air, much like the more virulent strains of the influenza virus in the 20th century,” Ari said. “In fact, Alavedo Syndrome is actually a mutated variation on a viral strain that swept through the United States in the early 21st century, killing hundreds of children and elderly, and crippling otherwise healthy adults.”

“How do you know that?” someone asked.

“Because her father was an epidemiologist who also taught classes in disease prevention for the medical and nursing students at different universities,” Ruthie said. “That’s actually how I met Kloiee, Ari’s older sister.” Ruthie gave Ari a sympathetic look. “Doctor Malkim and Doctor Anna were remarkable people.”

“How can you defend the people who destroyed out lives?” It seemed the middle aged woman was determined to place the blame on Ari’s parents no matter what she was told. “They"re the ones who turned this virus loose on the world.”

Ari didn’t even realize she was moving until she felt her hand sting and saw the horrified look on the woman’s face as a red mark spread across her cheek. “You’re just like the rest of them,” Ari said, starting to cry in earnest now. “Willing to believe everything the media tells you, with no desire to hear anything else. You go right on believing that my mom and dad are traitors, then. It’ll just blind you to the truth, like they want you to be.”

“What truth is that, Ari?” Ruthie asked. She handed Ari a handkerchief. Ari wiped her eyes but it didn’t stop the flood.

“Quiet! Here comes the security patrol,” another person said. “Get the scan blockers running.”

Ruthie flipped a switch on a small machine and a vague hum filled the air. Ari buried her face in her arms and tried to keep silent.  She held her breath and shut her eyes.  Everyone stood silently, the air thick with apprehension, as the security team moved past their hiding spot. Ari heard one of the men in the patrol say, “That damned plague rat wasn’t even worth the ammo. He was dead already.”

“Yeah, but I hear the girl’s in better shape. We ought to get some good information out of her before we put her out of our misery,” another person said.

“Enough chatter. Find the girl. Reports say she’s never far from her twin, so she has to be here.” The security patrol moved on, though it was several minutes before anyone dared to speak again.

“Ari, what really happened?” Ruthie asked. “We know what the media says, and I have my suspicions from what Kloiee was able to smuggle out in her letters. But you were living at home when this all started weren’t you?”

Ari nodded. She leaned up against the wall and allowed herself to slide down into a sitting position. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. Someone flipped on a recorder and the soft buzz provided a counterpart to the hum from the scan blocker. 

“It all started four, maybe five years ago now,” she said. “Mom and dad were on one of their teaching gigs when they got introduced to Senator Rhea Lyman. She was an old friend of my Aunt Briana’s. They went to school together or something like that. Anyway, Aunt Briana introduced Senator Lyman to my parents. Senator Lyman was the head of a committee that was interested in biological warfare and germ based weapons. My parents were appalled by her blatant disregard for human life, and flatly refused to have anything to do with her project.

“I’d say about a month after their initial meeting with her, men in black suits showed up at our house. They were agents of the National Security Authority, sent by Senator Lyman. They said that my parents had two choices: work for the government or be executed, along with all of us, as traitors.”

“All of who?” the middle aged woman asked.

“For the love of God, Grace, shut up and let the girl finish her story,” Ruthie snapped. “Or I’ll slap you myself.” Grace glared at the younger woman but subsided.

“All of us,” Ari repeated. “Me, my brother, and my two sisters Kloiee and Joy. Joy was dad’s angel. She was the baby, only five years old, and so full of light and life. She lived up to her name, bringing happiness to everyone who met her. Dad didn’t want to see any of us die, so he and mom reluctantly took the jobs on the research team. I heard they also threatened my aunts with the same fate to get them to work as well.

“We were resettled on a restricted military base. We weren’t allowed to leave the house. We had special tutors come in to teach us. Mom and dad and Kloiee spent hours at the lab, sometimes spending the night when the government decided their research took second to their health.

“I don’t know all of the different diseases they worked on, but I do know that the virus that causes Alavedo Syndrome was one of the most deadly. When it was isolated, Senator Lyman and the National Security Authority came in and took all details of the research and cut loose the researchers. Well, by cut loose I mean they told them the research was over for the time being. But they didn’t let us leave. If anything, security was tightened and we weren’t even allowed to talk to my aunts, or any of the other members of the research team.

“Then Joy started coughing. At first, we thought it was just a little cold. Then it got out that a bunch of the children at Alavedo Primary Academy were really sick, coughing up blood and slowly being smothered to death by their own bodies. My dad got suspicious. He still had a lot of his equipment at the house. He took a sample of blood from Joy. He found the virus in her blood, deoxygenating the cells and effectively asphyxiating all of her organs.

“Dad was livid. He learned from the lady who took care of us when he and mom were at the lab that just before they stopped the research that all of the children had been inoculated against a new virus making the rounds. No one thought anything of it at the time, but dad realized that the kids were actually exposed to the virus. One hundred and sixty three children died as a result of the government’s test. One of those was my little sister.” Ari wiped cheeks raw with weeping, and blinked her sore eyes.

“So your dad murdered your sister and you still defend him,” Grace sneered.

“The government murdered my sister,” Ari said. “Just like they murdered mom and dad and Kloiee and Rojer. And all those other kids, and everyone else who’s got this damned Syndrome. They threatened to take everything away from my dad that he held so dear if he didn’t do the research, and in the end, they still took everything from him anyhow when they used the virus he and the other epidemiologists isolated to murder those children.” Ari smacked her hands onto the ground, pushing herself up off the floor. “Ouch!” Blood flowed freely from her hand where she’d cut it on a piece of broken glass.

“Ari, if you were exposed like the others, why aren’t you sick?” Ruthie asked.

“Dad wondered about that too, especially since Rojer got sick a little after Joy did,” Ari replied. She pressed the handkerchief into the wound. “Mom always thought it was because my immune system was super human or something like that. She said it was a result of dad’s incessant search for the perfect mixture to prevent disease. I was always his most eager guinea pig when it came to his personal research project.”

“Did your dad ever find a cure for the Syndrome?” Grace asked.  "Or was it enough for him to know that his legacy was one of death?"  Ruthie reached over and slapped Grace again.  Grace glowered at the young nurse.

“That’s what he was trying to do when the security teams killed him. I know Aunt Briana and Aunt Renee and the others are looking for a cure too. That is, if any of them are still alive. Aunt Renee and Fara were both in the early stages when we all split up. I know Aunt Briana was worried, since Aunt Renee’s never been very strong. It’s possible she’s already dead. In fact, I think I’m the only one who’s been exposed to the Syndrome who’s never gotten sick.” Ari froze, staring down at her bloody hand.

“The security patrol is coming back,” Grace said.

“Ruthie, you know how to find them, don’t you? Or you know someone who can find my aunts.” Ari’s eyes were unfocused, and her uninjured hand groped in the air beside her. Her fingers curled around nothing but those watching could have sworn they saw her take someone"s hand.

“I do,” Ruthie said. “Why?”

“Tell them even though my dad’s dead, his real legacy can help them cure everyone else,” Ari said. “Give them this and tell them I said I’m sorry.” She handed Ruthie the bloody handkerchief. “Come on, Rojer,” she whispered. “Let’s go.” Ari turned and made her way to the entrance of the little group’s hiding spot.

“Ari, no!” Ruthie cried. Ari looked over her shoulder and smiled.

"Rojer"s waiting for me."  She turned and walked through the hidden door. Gun shots rang out and everyone heard the sound of a body hitting the ground.

Ruthie stared at the blood soaked handkerchief for several long minutes. Finally, she went to her portable medical kit. She pulled out a specimen jar and put the handkerchief inside. She sealed the top. “I have to go,” she said. “Ari’s right. Doctor Malkim’s legacy is here and we need it to help everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” Grace asked.

“Ari was the only person who’d been subjected to the illness that never got sick,” Ruthie said. “You heard her say she was her father’s most enthusiastic test subject. What if, in strengthening his daughter’s immune system, he gave her the key to creating the antibodies needed to destroy the disease?” Everyone stared at the sealed glass jar in Ruthie’s hand. One by one, they bowed their heads in a silent prayer of thanks for the sacrifice of a young girl, and her hope and faith in them that they would be able to help bring about the end of the plague that now devastated the world.