Containment Part 2

The girl glared up at them, rubbing her arm.
“I ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” she snapped, curling her words. “Y’all the ones sneakin’ ‘round like you up to somethin’.”

Victor crouched to her level. “What were you doing by that building?”

She looked away. “Nothin’. Just watchin’. Y’all don’t know what’s goin’ on in there. But I seen it.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Seen what?”

The girl hesitated, then jerked her chin toward West 83rd building.

“They takin’ people. I’m worried they gon’ take my mom, so I was waitin’ to see.”

“Then what were you going to do?” Victor asked.

“I’on know… but I couldn’t just let ‘em take her. Who’s gonna feed the cats?”

The girl let out a small cry, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She had always despised those freaking cats that her mother seemed to love more than her. It was ironic that is what she thinking of at this time. Maybe she never really hated them, not really. 

Victor and Emily exchanged a glance.

“Wait,” Emily said, voice softening, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Cassie.”

Emily gasped. The same girl they had been looking for. One said to have gone missing a week ago. They thought she would be infected by now but she looked healthy.

“Cassie Thompson?” she asked slowly. “We’ve been looking for you. We spoke to your mom.”

“What? Y’all did? When?”

“A few days ago.” Victor answered.

“You the ones she said were doctors, huh?” she asked. “Mom told me ‘bout y’all. Said I could trust ya. Well, can I?”

“Yes. Of course you can, Cassie,” Emily said gently.

Cassie nodded, some of her tension easing. “Fine. What do y’all wanna know?”

“Tell us about Mr Everett,” Victor said.

Cassie’s expression darkened. “A couple weeks back, he started actin’ strange. Skin gone pale, eyes lookin’ all silver. He started talkin’ in riddles. He’s always been real nice—used to give me food after school. So I wanted to check on ‘im. We were talking in the hall and he bit me.”

She reached up and slowly pulled her blouse aside, revealing smooth skin just above her collarbone.

"Like he was a zombie or somethin',” she said simply. “Right here. It hurt real bad at first but now I’on even feel it no more. Did y’all find Mr. Everett? Did you help ‘im?”

Victor and Emily leaned in. Her skin was unbroken. Smooth. If there had ever been a bite, it was long healed—unnaturally fast

“Not yet,” Emily said. “But we might with your help. Did he say anything else? Anything strange?”

Cassie looked to the side, brows furrowed in thought. “There was one thing... right after he bit me. He said somethin’ ‘bout goin’ to... the Hive or somethin’.”

Victor stood sharply. “The Hive? What is that? Some kind of new slang? A hangout?”

Cassie shrugged. “I’on know. That’s just what he said. I thought maybe he was drunk or somethin’.”

Emily’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting up.

Contagion Protocol Level 4:
Avoid West 83rd. Civilian quarantine zone breached. Proceed with caution.

Her fingers trembled.

Victor read over her shoulder. “They lost containment.”

He then felt something shift in the air like heat before a lightning strike.

From behind the alley wall, a low, metallic clicking echoed—like bones grinding together.

Click-click-click.

Then—a scream.

They turned just in time to see the infected man. It wasn’t a man—more like a creature

The creature let out another shriek, letting out a foul breath. The air smelled of rotting garbage with a side of cow dung left too long in the sun.

Cassie bolted without another word.

Victor and Emily took off behind her. As they rounded the corner, a black-suited agent advanced on the creature with his rifle raised. He opened fire, brass casings clinking to the ground like hail.

The creature didn’t flinch. It bent backward—unnaturally low—and twisted its body in a full 180-degree spin. With a lurch, it leapt forward, landing on the agent with a sickening meaty crunch.

Its head snapped down and bit into the man’s throat, opening its jaw unhinging like a snake becoming wider. The agent’s flesh tore like wet paper, blood sprayed across the alley wall in thick arcs as the creature kept ripping chunks of meat. Veins of blood dangled from the creature’s teeth like stringy ribbons. The agent gurgled on his own blood before falling with a thud. His blood pooled on the ground getting closer to where Victor and Emily still stood, frozen in shock instead of running.

The creature then clung to the wall like an insect. Its limbs were too long, bending sideways like a spiders, crawling on the alley wall. Emily shrieked looking at its skin, thin and almost translucent, stretched like parchment over a wiry frame. Veins glowed faintly beneath the surface like dying embers. Its head twitched toward them, neck cracking. The Eyes were glowing blue, pulsing with veins stretching from the eyelids. And its mouth split open far too wide, revealing rows of jagged, needle-like teeth arranged in spirals.

Click-click-click

A wet clicking sound came from deep within its throat.

Emily froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

Victor grabbed her hand. “Run.”

They bolted down the alley, the sound of the thing scraping behind them—its limbs and claws scrabbling along brick and metal. It moved fast. Faster than anything that size should move.

The creature shrieked, a high-pitched sound that wasn’t quite human.

They burst back onto the street just as black SUVs screeched to a halt. Doors flung open. Men in heavier armor leapt out, weapons drawn.

Without hesitation, they opened fire—synchronized, clean. Two flanked wide while another dropped to one knee and steadied a high-caliber rifle. With disciplined bursts, they aimed at its joints—knees, shoulders, then the base of the skull. Another used an electro-net launcher, pinning the thing to the wall for half a second. The final shot was brutal—a concussive grenade hurled straight at the creature’s head.

It exploded in a spray of dark ichor and shattered bone.

The creature collapsed in pieces.

One of the agents spotted Victor. He raised his voice, crackling through the comms:
“We’ve got civilians. One matches Dr. Victor Salerno’s profile. Orders?”

A voice crackled through his earpiece:
“Bring him in. Alive.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed.

Emily stepped between him and the armed men. “What the hell is going on?!”

No answer. Only the sharp, mechanical rhythm of rifles chambering rounds—each click a cold promise of what's to come.