Two Alive, стр. 63

The scientist started laughing. It was an unnerving cackle that seemed to build in dramatics as Manson held up the vial in the bag and threw his head back. This was far from the doctor’s normal behavior, where his usual displays of humor were no more than a half chuckle or an intake of air and a dispassionate “Ha.” Now he was having a real gut buster that was starting to disturb the soldier in the room.

“Man, you really are a Manson,” Burrows said, and the doctor instantly stopped.

Manson stared at Burrows and saw the same look in the military man’s eyes that he saw from everyone he had encountered throughout his scientific career. It was the curse of coming up with the same last name as the cult leader and murderer, Charles Manson. Something he couldn’t help even if his first name was Bob. It also didn’t help him that his theories and scientific practices were a bit unconventional. Bob had grown sick of constantly being judged or watched. So to go unnoticed he remained as reserved as possible. But even now with the world ending and a virus making people kill each other, people still compared the scientist to the psychopath.

“So, you can find a cure now?” Burrows asked. “You can use the other sample from that body and this one to make a cure?”

Manson straightened and cleared his throat. “I will make a cure. But I no longer need the first sample.” Manson went to the microscope and removed the slide with Bates’ blood.

“What the fuck? You mean I moved that thing for nothing?” Burrows pointed at the stall. “I still want some kinda credit in this. If you cure the world, let me get some of that fame. I ain’t a scientist but I still helped.”

The doctor took a breath and said, “Ha.”

Burrows shook his head and crossed his arms. “So you gonna get rid of that body then, right?”

Manson rolled his eyes and set up the next slide with a tissue sample from Anderson’s body. “When I go public with my discovery, I’ll say you were my lab assistant or something.” The scientist froze when he looked through the microscope.

“What? That one the cure too?”

Before Manson could respond, the bathroom door opened. This time it was Julia who entered. “Manson… anything?” She asked, with her hands on her hips.

The scientist squinted her way and a fake smile played across his lips. “Yes, actually. Bates had the virus in his blood.”

Julia’s sigh was both relief and recognition. “The committee is meeting again.” She left and the door began to swing closed behind her.

Manson blinked slowly and squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I’m still working, however. So I won’t be able--”

“Bring your ass, Manson!” Julia called back before the door shut completely.

The scientist opened his eyes and took a breath, a blank expression on his face. He rolled his head around to Burrows and blinked. “Make yourself useful, stand outside the door and keep people from barging in here for at least another two minutes. You want credit, make yourself creditable.”

Burrows muttered to himself but still made his way out the restroom. Manson went back to his microscope and examined the new slide. Under the magnifying glass, the specimen from Anderson was having the same reaction as the previous slide. Except this time, the foreign agent was large and green and killing cells rapidly. It was a new mutation to the virus and Manson was curious about the possibilities of what it would do if it matured in a proper host. Manson pushed away from the counter and looked towards the door.

He pulled a syringe from his equipment bag on the floor, stuck the needle into the lump of flesh on the counter that came from Anderson and drew out whatever fluid the sample allowed. The scientist went to the stall with the syringe and opened the door to the corpse that was now turning rank as it decomposed in the small room. Manson stabbed the dead body with the needle and pumped half the fluid into the corpse. He wasn’t sure what this would do to the carcass but figured there was no harm in watching it waste away. The scientist went to grab a can of disinfectant spray and sprayed it in the air to mask the smell of the rotting corpse. It did little to hide the stench.

Outside the restroom, Burrows was looking back and forth down the nearby aisles as he waited for Manson to come out. “C’mon doc, what the hell are you doing?” The soldier whispered to himself.

“Burrows!” A voice called out and surprised the soldier, who turned to see his captain standing there as though he had appeared from nowhere.

“Captain Baker.” Burrows’ voice was shaky and nervous.

“What are you doing?” The captain asked with his head cocked to the side.

“Oh, I was…”

The door behind Burrows opened and Manson came walking out with a hand on his forehead. When he looked up and saw Baker, he paused for a moment. “Oh, Captain Baker. Don’t tell me Julia sent you to retrieve me.”

Baker blinked slowly. “No. I saw Burrows and wondered what he was doing.”

“Well, Julia sent him to hurry me along so I told him I would come as soon as my experiments were finished. I’m trying to develop a formula to help Lesly grow more of vegetables in the garden.”

Baker just blinked again and sighed. “Get back to your post, Burrows. C’mon doc.” The captain turned around and went along the side of the wall, towards the doorway to the security monitor room.

Before Burrows could step away from the door, Manson grabbed his arm and stabbed him as he said, “Stay here and watch this door! Make sure no one goes in!”

“Damn doc, what the hell was that!” Burrows