Subject Zero by M.A. Phipps

Author:M.A. Phipps [Phipps, M. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shire-Hill Publications

Cold water strikes my face, an icy deluge that brings relief for all of five seconds before the nausea rolls through me again. My tongue darts out across my chapped lower lip, and I swallow, pushing down the bile burning the inside of my throat as I raise my gaze to the mirror. Gripping the sides of the polished stone basin, I grimace at the gaunt face staring back at me. Whatever healthy color I had to my skin has faded, resulting in my chalky complexion, and shadows mark the edges of my now protruding cheekbones, the skin around my eye sockets mottled with blistering shades of purple and black. Even my eyes seem to have lost some of their vigor and hue, the irises dull, taking on tones of gray.

I splash water on my face again before peering down into the sink.

“It really is trying to make up for lost time,” I mutter, biting back an unhinged chuckle, which quickly fades into a sob. I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep quiet.

This disease really is determined to kill me.

Pain slashes through my skull as if in response to that thought, and I cry out as a searing flash of light explodes behind my eyes, blinding me. The room spins, my surroundings blurring, and my knees buckle, dragging me down to the floor.

As my fingertips graze the tile, searching for a way through the sudden fog obscuring my vision, a voice calls out from the distance, calm and collected.

And, above all, familiar.

I glance in the direction it’s coming from, unsurprised when the light fades and I find I’m no longer on the floor in the washroom in Bilken’s safe house but in the magistrates building in Zone 1. Standing, as if this disease isn’t killing me.

I recognize the office I’m in, and my chest tightens as I peer down at the carpet, the fibers bleached white, erasing the evidence that it was once soaked with the blood of at least a dozen Enforcers. Erasing that Rai was shot in this room.

Resurfacing bile burns my insides like acid as my focus drifts to the broad wall of windows and the looming figure standing before them, looking down at the city below.

Even from behind, I know him.

As if sensing my presence, Nolan turns on his heel, but his pale eyes look past me because I’m not really here. I follow his gaze to the line of still people behind me, awaiting his next words in silence.

“It’s time,” he says to the other Heads of PHOENIX. Then, clearing his throat, he takes a seat at what was once Bilken’s desk.

Folding his hands on top of the glass surface, he straightens as three floating black balls take position a few feet in front of him, buzzing softly in the hush. Spotlights project from the recording drones, illuminating Nolan’s face.

“Citizens of the State,” he announces, enunciating every word. “I come to you in this dire time to offer you much-needed hope for the future.

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