“To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day
Hardly spoke to folks around him didn't have too much to say
No one dared to ask his business no one dared to make a slip
For the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip…”
“Big iron on his hip~” the doctor sang as it drove its trusty AFV through the snow. The inside of the AFV was very surprisingly spotless. With all the surfaces rubbed clean and shiny with detergent and anti-gene fluids (a type of poison that destroys DNAs and RNAs).
Bleep. The doctor pressed on the automap.
“All civilian transport routes are blocked,” the AFV’s built-in control system said while presenting the satellite map, “request to switch to off-road mode.”
“Go ahead,” the doctor replied happily, “can you please turn up the music volume.”
“Affirmative.”
The suspension of the AFV lowered its damping effects and the gear switch as well. Seeing that there are no significant obstacles ahead, the doctor switch on the autopilot mode and laid back in its modified pilot seat, “How far are we away from the camp?”
“Approximately 15.5km,” replied the AFV, “weather conditions are improving.”
“Great,” the doctor looked out and a beam of sunlight shined above its visor, “third time seeing the sun this month, we are quite lucky aren’t we.”
The AFV did not reply.
The doctor continued its stare at the moving clouds and the clear blue sky. It remembered from the stories that the world used to be so polluted that the sky had turned grey, but the doctor wondered, would it prefer to living in a world of grey than a world with the virus. That’s enough thinking for today, it had to conserve processing energy for the day’s task.
“Sir,” the AFV altered the doctor suddenly and reduced the speed, “there is a human standing in front of us.”
“A human out here?” the doctor looked out and saw a person in a dark cloak standing in the way of the AFV, “stop and let me see what he wants.” Slowly, preventing damages to the brakes, the AFV stopped right before the man and opened the exit.
“What are you doing here?” the doctor asked curiously, “Are you from camp 4220? If so, that’s very nice of you to greet me so early before my arrival.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The man dropped his cloak and removed his mask.
“Sir!” the doctor cried, “You should always keep your…”
“No need to tell me what to do tin man,” the man revealed his scarred face and his body armour, “if I am correct, you must be Doctor Riley.”
“Yes I am,” said the doctor, “nice to meet you.”
“Ha!” the man laughed and removed an armour plate on his arm, “I won’t tell you my name, but I suggest you go to some other camps.”
“Why?” asked the doctor, “I have to survey every camp in the world, no matter how long it takes.”
“See this?” the man showed his exposed skin to the doctor. Instead of normal human skin, the man’s skin had turned in a dark jam-like mixture that had a few pentagons shaped holes on it. A thick, viscous yellow fluid drip out of those holes and the man wiped the fluid away with his other hand.
“You are infected.”
“Don’t say the obvious doctor,” snapped the man, “ I know exactly who you are, the others called you ‘Sleight of Hand’ in the North. I have one last wish and I think you know what it is exactly.” The man showed the two large revolvers hanging on his waist, both loaded with anti-armour bullets.
“I strongly suggest you take the pills,” the doctor took out a green pill and presented it to the man, “if I use force to eliminate you, it might not be a quick and painless death.”
Cluck! BAM!
The glass container of the pill shattered to pieces by the solid shot. The man put his pistol back to its holder, “Cut the bullshit and have a dual with me.” The doctor looked at its hand that previously held the bullet, and threw the remains of the container to the ground, “Fine.”
“Now we are talking,” laughed the man and then he pointed at a spot behind the doctor, “do you wanna start by standing there?”
“Sure,” the doctor started to turn and head towards the…
BAM!
The man’s expressions were still that of extreme shock as his body slid to the ground, in both his hands were the loaded pistols but none of them was fired. Again, no blood spelt, only a small hole on the head.
“Ummm these things sure spread fast,” the doctor plugged a cleaning rod into its fired pistol, “welp, guess half of the country now assume a weak spot is on my back.”
The doctor walked towards the man and looked down, “I had learnt my lesson long ago, as long ago that I couldn’t even remember when, but those are sure some fancy pistol. Gosh, if you are not infected, I could have bought those guns from you.”
The doctor emitted the poisonous gas over its body again and went back into the AFV. A minute later, the doctor returned with a large plastic jar and a plastic shovel. With experience, it dug a meter deep hole and pushed the body of the man in. Then, the doctor unlocked the tight lock on the jar and poured into the hole.
Fzzzzzz…
The body of the man slowly corroded away by the acid, melting him down to the bones. Then the doctor buried the hole with its shovel and washed the shovel with a bit of the remaining acid, “All done. Let’s head back to our journey shall we?” Doctor Riley returned to the pilot seat in the AFV.
Unlike Isolation Camp #4001, there was no one waiting in front of Isolation Camp #4220. The steel door was shut tight before the doctor, “Damn it. Guess I’m not welcomed here. Great, even the CCTV portal is closed.”
“HELLO?!” the doctor asked as loud as it could through its voice box and banged its fists heavily on the door. No response.
“Guess I must use that method,” the doctor muttered, it returned to the AFV. A moment later, the AFV’s turret started to rotate.
BZZZZZZZ!
A strong laser beam shot through the turret and penetrated the steel door. Anywhere the beam touch, the metal melted like butter. Soon, a gigantic hole was cut on the door. The doctor got off the AFV and walked towards the hole but suddenly, it stopped. The doctor looked at the ground inside the isolation camp. The inside was completely dark, but the doctor’s night vision visor allowed it to see everything. Everything.
Solemnly, the doctor turned around and got into the AFV once again. This time, the doctor returned with what looked like an RC car, “Farewell.” The doctor put the car on the ground, and it automatically rolled in. After staring at the camp for a bit, the doctor got back into its AFV and drove away.
Report: Isolation Camp #4220 is no more. With great grief, I discover that camp had been overrun by Pt91A and no there were no survivors/non-carriers. As it appeared, many carriers had reached their final stage and there were lots of evidence of the ‘plasma gas’. Thus, I had to follow procedure No.010 and eliminated the whole camp with the microwave bomb. Report complete.