Chapter 10 : The Infection
925 Words
The darkness lasted twelve seconds.
Aaron counted them.
Later, when he tried explaining what happened in the farmhouse, that detail would remain burned into his memory.
Twelve seconds.
Not eleven.
Not thirteen.
Exactly twelve.
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When the lights returned, the writing was gone.
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The journal lay open on the desk.
The page appeared exactly as it had moments before.
Old.
Yellowed.
Two centuries old.
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No fresh ink.
No impossible message.
No evidence.
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Nothing.
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Yet all four of them had seen it.
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MAYA IS THE KEY.
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Aaron knew what he'd seen.
That was the part he hated most.
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The part he couldn't explain.
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The part that wouldn't fit inside any reasonable version of reality.
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"Tell me somebody took a photograph."
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Nobody answered.
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Because nobody had.
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Maya barely remembered leaving the farmhouse.
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The journey home felt fragmented.
Broken.
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Like pieces of memory scattered across a dream.
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Rain against the windscreen.
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Headlights cutting through darkness.
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Aaron talking.
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Eleanor taking notes.
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Lucas standing on the porch watching them leave.
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And beneath it all-
A growing pressure behind Maya's eyes.
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A headache.
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No.
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Something worse.
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The dreams came immediately.
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That night she found herself standing on the shoreline again.
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Black water stretched endlessly before her.
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The sky remained empty.
No stars.
No moon.
No horizon.
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Just darkness.
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And the sea.
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This time she wasn't alone.
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Figures stood beside her.
Thousands of them.
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The Hollowed.
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Perfectly still.
Watching the water.
Waiting.
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Their faces were expressionless.
Their eyes empty.
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Every one of them staring toward something hidden beneath the surface.
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Then the water began to rise.
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Not like a wave.
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Like something underneath was pushing upward.
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Something unimaginably large.
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Maya felt terror claw through her chest.
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Yet another emotion accompanied it.
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Recognition.
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The sensation horrified her.
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Because part of her knew this place.
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Part of her belonged here.
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The water split open.
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And a voice spoke.
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Not aloud.
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Inside her mind.
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Inside her bones.
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Inside every cell of her body.
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"You remember."
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Maya woke screaming.
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Blood covered the bedsheets.
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For a second she thought she'd been injured.
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Then she saw her hands.
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Her fingernails.
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Tiny crescent-shaped wounds lined her palms.
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She had clenched her fists so tightly during sleep that she'd drawn blood.
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The digital clock beside the bed glowed softly.
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3:17 a.m.
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Of course.
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Always 3:17.
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Eleanor examined the blood samples the following morning.
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Maya sat opposite her in the university laboratory.
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The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
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Everything felt sterile.
Normal.
Safe.
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Maya appreciated the illusion.
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"You're sure this is necessary?"
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Eleanor didn't look up.
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"No."
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That wasn't encouraging.
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"But after what happened at the farmhouse, I need data."
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Maya managed a weak smile.
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"You sound like a scientist."
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"I am a scientist."
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"Good point."
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For a brief moment the atmosphere lightened.
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Then Eleanor's expression changed.
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The colour drained from her face.
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"What?"
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Eleanor stared at the screen.
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Not speaking.
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Not moving.
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Maya felt ice form in her stomach.
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"Eleanor."
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The scientist swallowed hard.
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"I ran the test three times."
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"Okay."
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"I thought the equipment was malfunctioning."
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Maya leaned forward.
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"What did you find?"
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Eleanor slowly turned the monitor.
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Rows of data filled the display.
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Numbers.
Sequences.
Genetic markers.
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Meaningless to Maya.
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Terrifying to Eleanor.
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"This shouldn't exist."
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"What shouldn't?"
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Eleanor hesitated.
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Then said the words Maya would never forget.
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"Your DNA is changing."
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Silence.
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Maya laughed.
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Not because it was funny.
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Because the alternative was panic.
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"That's impossible."
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"I know."
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"People's DNA doesn't just change overnight."
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"I know."
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The repetition made everything worse.
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Eleanor pointed toward the screen.
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"These samples were taken twelve days apart."
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Maya stared.
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"So?"
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"So they shouldn't belong to the same person."
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The room suddenly felt smaller.
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Much smaller.
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"What are you saying?"
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Eleanor looked genuinely frightened.
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"The changes are accelerating."
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A long silence followed.
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Then Maya asked the question neither of them wanted answered.
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"Accelerating toward what?"
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Eleanor opened her mouth.
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Then stopped.
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Because she didn't know.
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And somehow that was the most terrifying answer of all.
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That night Aaron called.
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His voice sounded strained.
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"Maya."
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"What happened?"
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"We found Amelia Carter."
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Maya froze.
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Alive?
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Dead?
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Neither possibility felt reassuring.
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"Where?"
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Aaron hesitated.
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Then quietly answered.
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"Standing in the middle of Ashmere Reservoir."
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Maya's blood turned cold.
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The reservoir was nearly half a mile across.
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There was no land in the middle.
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No platform.
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No structure.
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Nothing.
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Aaron continued.
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"She was just standing there."
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The silence stretched.
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"Looking at the water."
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A chill crawled down Maya's spine.
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Because she already knew what Aaron was going to say next.
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Even before he spoke.
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"Then she looked directly at us."
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His voice trembled.
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"And smiled."
- Writer
