Explosions and Microbiology
Cora’s frightened eyes were waiting at the end of the tunnel. Lately, our lives have been less about saving people and more about running from them. Train’s devilish grin appeared as he held up the button. Sometimes I doubt that he’s a certified physician… or scientist… or psychologist.
“Quickly,” I said, shakily, climbing into the small room. “I think they’ve already found the entrance.” Dr. Seven pulled the only surviving vial from the pocket of his cargo khakis.
He glanced around the ill-lit enclave and laughed. We all did; we had made it through another move. And this time, we didn’t lose anyone.
Cora tied up her hair and pushed back her glasses. “No.”
I set down my vial and looked over her shoulder. “Just when we thought it couldn’t get worse,” she smiled wryly. “It’s mutating.”
I cursed under my breath and looked into the microscope. I was only minimally aware of the science behind this change. Dr. Seven was the microbiologist in the group. “Dennys!”