Saturday, April 11, 2020

Miley Virus in "Sick Powers - #2"



The security motorcade pounded through the streets, tires squealing and amber lights flashing, a posse in hot pursuit.
Head of Security of Bollinger was at the wheel of the lead car, accompanied by Doctor Stone and the nurse.

“Explain to me,” Stone said, “why the laundry company’s security cameras work but the hospital’s do not?”

Bollinger did not answer, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The road ahead, in particular the alarming at which it approached, held the attention of the nurse in the back seat as well, wide-eyed and gasping when she wasn’t covering her eyes and trembling.

“Bollinger!” Stone said. “I asked you a question!”

“What?” His focus broken, the car veered into a mass of 
trash cans arranged alongside the road.

The impact sent cans and their filthy contents flying into the air and raining down upon the rest of the security parade.

“Keep your eyes on the road!” the nurse screamed. Doctor Stone turned back and glared at her. “Please.  Please don’t distract him right now.”

She could see Bollinger peering back in the mirror.
“Looks like that was a … strike,” he said. “No … wait … only a spare.”

“I’m sure, Nurse Hatfield, that Mr. Bollinger can drive and respond to inquiry at the same time.”

“That’s right,” he muttered. “Race car drivers get interrogated all the time while they race.  All in a day’s work, Bollinger.  Trash can bowling with cars and whatnot.”

“Whatever it takes,” Stone snapped. “That’s your day’s work.  It’s either your day’s work or I’ll get somebody else.  Understand me?”

“I understand.  Don’t tempt me.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

Nurse Hatfield noticed his glance back at her in the rearview.

“Just please be careful,” she pled. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“That’s why we’re all here nurse,” Stone said. “To save lives.  Precious little lives.”

Nurse Hatfield sunk back into the seat and looked for something else to focus on.  The view through the front had become too much.  And likewise the company.

“To answer your question, Doctor Stone.” Bollinger took care not to allow his attention to wander from the road again as he spoke. “As I explained before, the hospital’s camera outage was due to a network issue or a software problem.  Just a hiccup.  Anyway, the laundry did not have one.”

“A hiccup.”

“Exactly.  Fortunately.  Because the laundry place did not have a hiccup, we do know that the target emerged from a laundry cart and fled their establishment.  Nobody saw her but … the cameras did.”

“The target?” Nurse Hatfield said. “She’s a young girl.  I’m not comfortable with you using such terms to refer to her.  Targets get shot at.”

“That YOUNG GIRL,” Stone said tersely, “became a TARGET when she escaped.  She might as well have stolen a weapon of mass destruction.”

“A WMD?” Bollinger said.

“She’s no less dangerous.  And she’s rogue.  Completely out of our control.  But not for long.”




The girl stopped to rest and look around.  It felt like she’d covered a lot of ground.  She hoped she really had.  But probably not enough, she thought.  Better press on.

While she hung back in the shadows, ahead of her the cityscape opened up into a bright thoroughfare, bustling with cars and people even at that late hour.  Her stomach growled as her eyes went from fast food place to fast food place.  Seemed like it had been weeks, maybe months since she’d last tasted a decent, greasy meal.

“Fat chance,” she muttered. “Probably clear out the whole place.  Maybe infect the whole place.  Maybe the drive thru if I had a car.  If I had some money.”

CRASH!

She turned back to face the noise behind her.  Straining her eyes into the darkness, she could make out nothing.

CRASH!

Still saw nothing but the black of night, and didn’t like it a bit.  She started in the other direction, away from the noise, toward the light at the mouth of the side street.

Then she stopped.

Filing across the street ahead of her were several shadowy figures twilit by the glow wandering in from main street.  The figures were of varied shapes and sizes, all menacing to a girl who was where she did not belong.

Anywhere.

Must be some kind of street gang.  Maybe, she thought, they were a nice street gang.

Be serious, Miley.

The reek of danger and desperation penetrated her facemask.  Probably not a great sign.

She retreated a few steps.  Her inner voice said, “Girl, you’d better run.”

CRASH!

They must be behind me, too.

The figures she could see on the light side were approaching.

Nowhere to run.  She felt movement behind her as well, their closing footsteps a tightening noose.

“Your noose, not mine.”

Their footsteps shuffled to a stop.

“What did you say?” One of them demanded.

“I was just talking to myself, I guess.  No.  I wouldn’t have said it aloud if I hadn’t wanted you to hear.  So … I guess I was just letting you know.”

“Letting us know?” one of them said. “HA HA!  Letting us know WHAT?  You don’t wanna share, little sister?  We might have guessed THAT.”

They surrounded her in laughter.

“But if you don’t wanna share … see, it might not be your lucky day.”

More laughter.

She sighed.

“Don’t feel bad about it little sister.  Life has its little ups and downs.  Even for rich girls lost in dangerous neighborhoods.”

“Hey Brick,” someone else chimed in. “What makes you think she’s rich?”

“I just know, HA HA!  She got to be richer than us!”
More laughter.

They reminded her of a howling pack of wolves.

“Hey Brick, you see her mask?  What’s going on with that crazy mask?  Some kind of freakshow?”

“You heard him, little sister?  What’s up with that freaky mask?”

“I tried to tell you.  I’m sick.”

“I’ll tell you what, we’ve been told the same thing, HA HA!  Ain’t gonna bother us any.”

“I mean, I have a sickness.  I’m Ill.”

“Yeah right, I bet.  Take off the mask.  Show us what you look like.”

“I can’t”

“I bet you’re pretty under there, come on.  Lose the mask.”

“If I lose the mask, you’ll get infected.”

“Ohhh, I’ve been infected before.”
“You’ll get infected and die.”

Somebody cackled. “You ever die before, Brick?”

The others laughed.

“Not exactly yet, I haven’t.  An I don’t believe that I’m gonna tonight.  The mask … take it off.  Now.  Let’s see.”

“I can’t.  I already have too much to bear.  You don’t understand, it would be a big mistake.  Too many have paid the price.”

“Get a load of this,” Brick said. “Are you serious or what?”

“What I have is dangerous … people have died.  My family … others … I’m sure there is … somebody … looking for me right now.”

“Looking for you?  Like there might me a ransom?”

“Looking for me like you’d better not give me any trouble or maybe I WILL take this mask off.  I’d feel bad about it … but if it’s a choice between you … and me …”

“Okay okay,” Brick said. “Take it easy.”

“You believe her, Brick?” one of them said.

“I don’t believe her,” another said.

“This chick’s a weirdo … let’s move on to the next one.”
Brick stared into her.  “Mmm … I don’t know.  I really don’t.  Tell you what.  We’ll let you go … and you just count yourself lucky none of us feel like maybe dyin’.”

“You made a wise choice.”

“Yo … weirdo … whatever.  Just get out of here before we change our minds.”

Just then the sound of a siren pierced the night.

“You guys hear that?” Brick said. “Geez … everybody scatter … I don’t wanna get PINCHED tonight either.”

With those words the gang was in motion and within seconds had melted into the night.

“I think they have the right idea.  I’d better scatter, myself.”

She was already moving, away from the sirens and away into the night.


“Nice place to take a walk.”

###
By Harlowe Pilgrim

Copyright 2020 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,
Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.

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