“That’s when Dr. Shoji went off the reservation—he stuck it out as long as he could, but those cross-infection tests were the last straw,” said Dr. Abbey, in a casual, matter-of-fact tone. “You want to talk about the cross-infection tests? What those entailed, precisely? I’m sure these nice people would really love the gory details.”
Kelly took a deep breath as she looked back down. “They took… volunteers…”
“Prisoners,” said Dr. Abbey.
“They volunteered,” said Kelly, a stubborn note in her voice. “Yes, they were prisoners. They had no chance of parole, no chance of ever being released back into the public, and use of human test subjects has a… it has a long and time-honored place in medical science. Sometimes it’s the only thing you can do. That’s how they discovered that yellow fever was spread by mosquitoes, you know. How… how they proved that smallpox inoculation worked. A lot of people’s lives were saved by human testing. When there wasn’t any other choice. When there wasn’t any other way.”
“How many lives did this save?” asked Dr. Abbey.
“What did you do?” asked Alaric.
His was the question Kelly chose to answer. Darting a glance toward him, she said, “The choice was offered to certain inmates whose viral profile matched the criteria. Let us inject them with a potential vaccine and, if they recovered, we’d enter them in the witness-protection program. Whole new identities. Whole new lives. They could start over.”
“If they lived,” said Alaric, softly.
Kelly winced.
“Come on, princess,” said Becks. “Story hour isn’t over yet. I want to know what happens next.”
“The volunteers were injected with a serum containing deactivated viral particles from the opposing strain. The theory was that maybe one strain would destroy the other. Best-case scenario, they’d both destroy the other, and we’d finally have a treatment. Worst-case scenario…” Her voice tapered off.
Dr. Abbey took up the thread when it became clear that Kelly wasn’t going to, saying, “Worst-case scenario is what they got. Not only did every single one of their ‘volunteers’ go into spontaneous amplification when the two strains met, but they bred a new strain—one that increased mob behavior in exposed infected. They f**ked up gloriously. And then they swept it all under the rug, with the rest of their failures.”
“What did you want us to do?” Kelly’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as she glared at Dr. Abbey. “Did you want us to just sit back and watch the virus do its thing, not even try to find the answer? Yes, people died. Yes, mistakes were made, and mistakes will be made, and someday, maybe, because of those mistakes, we’ll have a cure. Wouldn’t you like that? A cure? An end to all the fear? Because that seems like a really good thing to me, and if I have to work with the CDC to make it happen, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“I’d love that idea, if I thought it was anything but a pipe dream.” We all turned toward Maggie. She’d moved to sit on the floor next to Joe, one arm slung lazily across the dog’s back. She looked completely at peace, despite the fact that she was leaning against an animal that could take off her face with a single bite. “People laugh at me because I watch a lot of horror movies, but horror movies are educational, if you know how to pay attention to them. They tell you about societal trends—about the things that people are afraid of. In the ones before the Rising, they were afraid of actual things. The new ones… they’re just afraid of not being afraid.”
Kelly snorted. “No one makes horror movies anymore.”
“Yes, they do,” said Maggie. “These days, everything’s a horror movie.”
“To get back to the original point, before we went on this fascinating and informative tangent, you said the virus was adapting,” said Alaric. He leaned forward, eyes fixed on Kelly. The Newsie in him sensed blood in the water. I could see it in his face. “No mob behavior, then, mob behavior. What are the reservoir conditions supposed to do?”
“No one really knows.” Kelly stole a glance in my direction, testing my reaction, before focusing on Alaric. She sounded less like she was lecturing and more like she was trying to make herself understood, like it suddenly mattered that we understand. “We think they stem from exposure to the live virus that somehow fails to cause full amplification. You see it mostly in people who risked exposure when they were under the threshold weight, although there have been exceptions. We’re still trying to figure out what causes the exceptions. Why it happens in some adults, and not in others. We don’t really know yet, and it’s not the sort of thing you can easily test.”
“So wait,” said Becks. “Are you saying that people who got exposed when they were really little, they get reservoir conditions instead of getting the whole zombie combo pack?”
Kelly nodded. “Exactly.”
My eyes were normal until I was almost at the amplification threshold, said George thoughtfully. The retinal distortion didn’t kick in until then.
“I know,” I mumbled, keeping my voice low, so as to hopefully avoid reminding my team that I was crazy. Louder, I asked, “What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means their bodies were exposed to live Kellis-Amberlee when they were still incapable of suffering the full effects of the virus,” said Dr. Abbey. There was a lunatic good cheer in her voice, like being allowed to make that statement was a great and glorious gift. “Ever hear of chickenpox?”