Wait for Night for Rescue (58%)

Elliot couldn't go right away, no matter how desperate his girlfriend's situation seemed. If he rushed right to campus in defiance of the order, he would only get himself caught, possibly imprisoned. He wasn't sure whether or not he would abandon the contract-tracing device. If the outbreak was related to his present experience, there wasn't a whole lot knowing where he went would benefit the CDC, or FEMA, or whoever else might be responsible for tracking such things.

He had several hours to figure out what might really be happening, with whatever resources his bedroom could provide. Unfortunately, those were hours he would spend with a constant reminder of just how uncomfortable and unnatural his body had become—never able to find a comfortable place to sit without crushing the tail, never able to move without irritating his sensitive chest. Worse, nowhere he could look would spare his view of just how small he had become.

And if he tried to speak, there was another painful dagger in his mind. What will Ruby think?

Elliot focused on distracting himself with the most intense research and preparation he could. He dug up his old camping radio and found the emergency station. This provided little more than the text message, repeating a constant notice that no one was to leave the area, the national guard were blockading all roads and all flights in or out had been cancelled. It promised a federal response, if only they could sit tight.

Most of the Colorado stations were down, though there were a few still broadcasting.

Strangely, the radio broadcast also came with an ominous warning at the end of each repeating message. "Remain in your homes, cover windows and doors at night. Do not leave except for emergencies."

Elliot's mind spun with possible explanations--some way for the feds to keep mutating people from getting photographed with weird-colored hair and other mutations? But if the same disease he had was spreading, there was no possible chance of containing information about it anymore. There wasn't a soul in the modern world who wouldn't have a phone camera to share their secret with the world! If one person got internet access...

Plenty of wifi networks were still up, including theirs. But not one of those had actual internet access. What kind of effort would it take to prevent every single ISP from servicing their customers?

He kept the windows open, watching for any signs of life in the city outside. There were some; an occasional lone figure, often with a backpack or suitcase, always moving the same direction. One or two had bikes, but most didn't.

They're trying to get out of town.

After the third or fourth person to pass, he finally braved opening the window. "Hey! Are you coming from downtown?"

The stranger looked up at him, slowing along the sidewalk. Finally, they gave him a nervous thumbs-up. He looked young, maybe a freshman, wearing a hoodie despite the heat.

"Are lots of people sick?" he yelled, louder. "On campus?"

Another thumbs-up. The kid took a few steps off the sidewalk, to the parking lot. "You should run, miss! Before the army gets here! That's what everyone is saying. Get out before we're trapped!"

Miss. Nowhere near the worst of his problems right now. That problem could wait until Ruby woke up. "Running would spread the disease! If you have it, you should stay!"

"I feel fine!" he yelled back, turning to get back onto the sidewalk. He hurried away without looking back.

Someone tapped on his bedroom door, then swung it open. Sam strode confidently inside, not waiting for permission. It was so strange that Elliot jumped in his seat, heartbeat accelerating in his chest. "You could've waited for--"

Sam crossed to the window after a few seconds, resting her arm on the sill. She eased it down an inch. "Don't you think we should be laying low? Not screaming out into the world how messed up we are?"

Elliot got out of her way, retreating to the bed. That alien organ behind him swished back and forth, putting a little more uncomfortable pressure against his rear. Because of course, nothing could be simple or comfortable.

He dropped onto the bed, narrow shoulders slumping forward. "I don't know how you're coping so well with this. You're mutating too."

Sam snapped the blinds closed, then spun. "Guess so. Figured I would wait until it finished so I could judge how horrified I should be all at once. Rain check on the panic, get me?"

She turned, then nudged his foot. "Hey, your toes are doing it too."

"My--" he looked down, then squealed, even higher and shriller than his voice. "It" was fusing slowly together, with a web of skin creeping between them so gradually he hadn't noticed over hours. "Shit. I wanted to go on foot--maybe I'll have to drive."

"Drive where?" Sam kicked the computer chair over with her knee, then sat backwards on it, resting her arms on the rear. "You hear the messages. No leaving, no going anywhere. We keep our asses planted until help arrives."

Elliot squirmed, before reaching past him to the desk. He held it out so she could see the messages Ruby had sent. "I'm going as soon as it gets dark. I don't care what the alert says."

Sam slid back up the messages, then handed it back. "You think she has what we do?"

"100%. She must've got it from the same source that infected us. Then she went to campus for her finals, and it kicked the shit out of her. I hope she got to take her tests first."

Samantha whistled, then rested one hand on his shoulder. That made him tense all over again--Sam had always been petite, despite her atypical strength. Now her fingers could go all the way around, gripping with uncharacteristic strength.

"Elliot, don't take this the wrong way, but... I think your eyes must be busted. Ruby has more to worry about than her exams. If she's as screwed as we are..." she released her grip, holding out her hand and squeezing into a fist, then releasing it. "God knows where this stops. Or what the army plans to do. Maybe they hit us with a tactical nuke to stop it from spreading."

Elliot whimpered. But the sound revolted him, tiny and pathetic in his own ears. He wasn't going to roll over and die, or give up on helping Ruby. Whatever weakness the disease instilled, he could fight through it. "I'm still getting her out of there."

He stood up, shuffling towards the closet. Now that Samantha pointed it out, he couldn't not feel the unusual pressure in his feet, making every step slightly awkward and off-balance. Toes weren't supposed to work quite that way.

Maybe I should tell Ruby what we found. We'll have to get Zalenka's notebook back out too, there's no way this is anything else. Maybe someone at the CDC can use it.

"It's three miles to campus and back. I'll dress in black, get to her friend's place, then carry her back."

Samantha laughed, low and sharp. "Maybe before you would. What if she looks like me? You're not carrying me down the hall, let alone across miles."

"So we take my car." He lifted a dark jacket from inside. His hoodie hung past his waist, a little way down his calves. "I drive right up onto the grass next to her place, then run in and get her."

"No. You drive up to her place, then I run in and get her." Sam stood over him, close enough to show just how stark their difference in height had become. "Also, my truck, not that little sedan of yours. If we need to go up over curbs or through the weeds, yours will bottom out and die. Might need to get out in a hurry, so..."

Elliot sniffed. The weight of thinking he was alone, going in without help or anyone who cared, lifted from his shoulders. Samantha was there to save them a second time. Besides, she sounded so sure of her ideas, she must know they would work!

He would not cry in front of her though. Elliot hadn't done that since his dad's funeral, and he wasn't starting today. "Y-yeah. Okay. We'll... do it your way."

"Good." He turned for the door. "Dark, you said? Guess that makes as much sense as anything. Did you find out anything about what's going on? Past what you were yelling through the window."

"No, unfortunately." He took a single deep breath. "Internet and phone service is down, seems deliberate. But there are ways around it. I have a friend with Starlink, that might still be up. But without the phones, I'd have to go to his house."

"Is it close?" Sam asked. "Maybe we stop on our way back, if it's safe."

Elliot nodded. "That might be a good idea, yeah."

A few hours later, and the sun had finally gone down. They were about as prepared as they could be--flashlights, dark clothing, pepper spray. Neither had a gun, since the school-contracted apartment complex didn't allow them. But as Sam pointed out, they were probably better off without a weapon even if they had one.

"Technically speaking, we're violating a lawful order. Better to do that without anything dangerous on us to make it worse."

The streetlights still worked as they made their way out, so they couldn't move in complete secret. If anyone was watching from their windows, they would see the two of them moving to the truck. They both clambered in, then sat while Sam went through her ritual to get the truck moving. Jiggling the key just so, kicking the hood from the side, pressing the accelerator just a tiny bit while he turned the key...

And they were moving. Elliot slid the chair all the way forward, and even that had him feeling a little small. "Guess they didn't use to care much about who could drive stuff. If this keeps up, I won't be able to drive it tomorrow."

Sam grunted. "Eh, so long as you can drive it now." She slid closer along the bucket seat, pointing down. "Careful riding the clutch too much when you shift. Got a belt that's on the outs, don't want to break it now."

Elliot rolled his eyes. "I had no idea this thing was in such bad shape." He flicked the headlights, and only one on the right came on, a pathetic yellow glow that looked like it came from the wrong type of bulb. "Don't you fix cars for a living?"

"And flip them! This is my latest project. Another six months, and it would be worth like 5k, easy! Now drive!"

He did, hands gripping hard on the steering wheel. No matter how strange his toes felt, at least the fingers hadn't started doing the same. Maybe he would get to keep his hands when this was over. Or they'll reverse it. If a disease can change me, it can change me back.

They drove in relative silence down the quiet streets. There was no other traffic--no wave of people leaving work or school, or the occasional delivery truck. There was only silence, extending painfully as the drive continued.

Yet there were other signs, as they approached the campus. There had been a police barricade here, facing the other way. Several cruisers blocked the road, a few red and blue lights still flashing uselessly. Only something had shoved them aside from within, smashing one against the front of a 7-Eleven and shattering the windows. Another was on its side, leaking fuel onto the pavement in a puddle.

Through the line was the street that led directly to campus, turning through a dark security booth towards the buildings.

"I don't like this," Sam muttered, nudging his arm. "5-0 didn't come back. We should find another way."

He felt it too, a quiet wrongness twisting in his gut. Something awful had happened here. Maybe it was still close!

Elliot was driving, so the choice was his:

1. No reason to go around, floor it! You can see the dorms from here!
   
2. Take another ten minutes to drive around to the delivery entrance in back, maybe that one will be clear.
   
3. Find somewhere to park and walk in through the pedestrian tunnel instead. A longer trip, but fewer eyes.

Author's Note

This chapter's poll: https://poll.horse/xmKznDwM