Part Four

The Enemy

Alan's P.O.V

I came to an abrupt stop, my knees wobbling beneath me, threatening to collapse. Sweat was beginning to trickle down the sides of my face, and my tongue had gone dry and refused to moisten. I didn't have much longer.

"What do you want, Melissa?" the words came out croaked.

"Well, to give you this of course," she waved the syringe she was holding in the air. "The cure, it's what you're looking for isn't it?"

"I don't believe you," I said. My grip on Mel was beginning to slip, so I dug my nails in in an effort to keep from dropping her.

Melissa held up her hands. "No tricks. I promise. Look, I'll even leave it here and walk away." She bent down and gingerly placed the syringe on the ground with a light clink. Then she straightened herself back up, turned around and began walking down the hall as she promised.

She was playing some sort of game again, there was no doubt about it. It was only a matter of figuring out what it was.

Melissa only took a few steps before pausing and turning back around. "Oh, I should tell you however, there's only enough in that syringe for one person."

She smiled, but this time the joke was on her. She thought the decision would be difficult, but it was one of the easiest I'd ever had to make. I didn't care about my own life if I could save Mel's. That's all I cared about. If I could see her blue eyes one more time before I died, I would be content, I would be happy.

So I began trudging towards the syringe, half my mind wondering why Melissa still stood there, watching me approach, and the other half wondering if this was a hallucination brought on by the fever. But when I dropped to my knees, laying Mel down on the ground beside me, and clasped the cold syringe in my hand, I knew that it was real.

The liquid inside it was clear, and while I should have stopped to consider if this was another one of Melissa's games, if the contents inside were actually some sort of poison, or different strain of the virus, I didn't. My thoughts were thrown into a jumbled mess, already ravaged by the infection.

But it didn't matter, because Melissa only had one final game to play, and she only set it in motion once I pulled the cap off the syringe and held it an inch away from Melody's neck.

"Alan before you do that, I forgot to mention," she began.

My hand paused, trembling in the air.

"That's the only cure in existence. If you give it to her, it'll be lost forever." That hideous smile was back on her face as she scanned mine for a reaction.

Lost forever. My mind struggled to form cohesive thoughts, struggling to bridge the gaps between each concept with flimsy string that only ended up snapping. Lost forever, lost forever, lost forever.

I lose Mel forever, or I lose the cure forever.

If I give it to Mel, they'll never be able to synthesize it, to mass produce and distribute it across the globe. But who is 'they'. If I don't give the cure to Mel, what's to stop Melissa from throwing it in the trash. She said it herself. Why would would she allow something to exist that would only destroy all the work she's done.

Then a new thought entered the fray, one that should have come to me instantly, but was held back by the fever. And this thought made me smile.

I looked back at Melissa. "You're lying," I said, almost laughing. Then I jabbed the syringe into Melody's neck and injected the serum into her bloodstream, watching the smile on Melissa's face turn to a frown as I did so.

She cocked her head to the side as she watched us. "Interesting choice," she said, turning around. "Interesting choice," she muttered again to herself as she began walking down the hall away from us.

Only once I was certain she wouldn't come back, wouldn't try to play anymore games, did I finally turn my eyes back down to Melody. Already, the gray pallor of her skin was beginning to fade away, like melting snow, slowly being replaced by the warmth of her natural complexion. My hands, sweaty and shaky from the fever, gripped a hold of hers in an effort to steady themselves.

I could feel the infection spreading through me, the heat in my veins as it coursed in my blood.

Despite my mouth being bone dry, I could taste blood running along my tongue and down the back of my throat. My vision was beginning to fade in and out, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep myself upright.

I didn't have much time left.

Gently, I squeezed Mel's hand in my own, silently willing, begging, for her eyes to open before my own had to close. I forced myself to fight through the pain, the dizziness and remain awake, until I saw for myself that the cure worked, that Mel would be alright. Then, and only then, would I allow myself to die.

And that moment came unexpectedly. Without any warning at all, her eyes fluttered open and found mine in an instant. In their reflection, I saw the discoloration of my own eyes. Ever so slowly, I watched as the color began to fade, seeping out of each iris. As gray clouds loomed over my eyes, a clear, blue sky blossomed in hers.

They were just as incredible, just as dazzling as I remembered them to be, and I found myself smiling down at her. A beautiful warmth spread across my chest then, overruling any heat or pain brought on by the fever. Her brow creased ever so slightly as she looked up at me, but after staring at me for a time, slowly, her hand came up to touch my face.

As she did so, she began to open her mouth, but just before her lips started to move, just before I got to hear her voice one last time, my vision faded completely as I succumbed to the infection and was torn from the world of the living.

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Melody's P.O.V

Dying was painless. And death was only a state of numbness. But having his face hover above mine, a beautiful mirage that I was convinced would vanish as suddenly as it had appeared, was excruciating. True torture that convinced me I had finally arrived in hell. Why else would I be tantalized with the image of his dying face, sucked of all color and life?

But then something else entered my eyesight, a hand that was reaching to caress his cheek. Only when it finally made contact and I felt the heat of his skin beneath my icy fingertips, did I realize it was my own.

Warmth? Cold? How could I feel these things when I was trapped in a void of numbness?

"Alan?" I spoke, and hearing my voice made me realize that maybe this wasn't a cruel dream, a vision brought to torment me in the afterlife. Maybe this was real?

But maybe not. Because as I said his name, his eyes closed and his body fell to the side, his face slipping out of my sight. There was a light thud though, somewhere beside me as his body must have collided with... the floor?

More sensations began coming to me. A feeling flourished in the back of my head, and only after a moment of concentrating did I realize that it was pain. Pain! I was feeling pain! And my elbows couldn't move back anymore, they were restricted by something stopping them. The floor? Was I lying down on the floor? I decided to test this theory.

Dropping my hands to whatever was beneath me, I pushed myself up, feeling a wave of dizziness crash over me as I did so. But something else crashed over me too. Memories. A flood of them. All rushing at me so fast that I had to shut my eyes just to bear the brunt of it all.

A crash. A woman. A fight.

The memories were in first person, yet, it didn't feel like they were mine. And as the last few seconds of these visions trailed before me, I opened my eyes and looked to my right to find Alan's body, curled up beside me.

"Alan?" I said again, my voice sounding clearer this time, more real. I moved to touch his face, to lightly slap at his cheek. Why wasn't he moving?

Then my eyes swept over him, taking note of the gray, withering look of his skin, and I remembered why. Just to confirm, I reached up and tapped at my neck, feeling pain and pulling back to find a small amount of blood where he had stabbed the needle. Then my eyes found the bloody wound on his own neck, where I had...

"No..." I whispered as realization of what happened dawned on me. "No, no no!" I said again, leaning over him, my arms now shaking his shoulders.

This wasn't fair! How could he bring me back only to die in front of me?

A part of me still considered the idea that this really was hell, but it all felt too real.

"Alan wake up!" I said, shaking him harder, but I knew that he wouldn't, not in the way I wanted him to.

There had to be something I could do. If he managed to cure me, then surely I could find a way to bring him back to me as well. I racked my brain for an answer, a solution, but my thoughts were coming to me so slowly, hindered by the memories that continued to assault me. I was becoming frustrated, angry tears streaming down my face as I screamed at the memories in my head to go away. But it was in those memories that I found my answer.

One of me, walking behind that vile woman, Melissa, following her down multiple winding walls, past a slew of doors that all looked the same, until we arrived in her office. A sterile room with nothing but a white, rectangular block of a desk in the middle of it and a computer sitting atop it. That's where she would be now.

I didn't have much time. I needed to act now, and even though I ached to just lie down, to curl up beside Alan and whisper all the things I never got the chance to say to him, I knew that I couldn't. Not when there was now a chance to save him.

I pushed myself up from the ground, my legs uncertain beneath me. I staggered to the right, almost falling over, but managed to catch myself against the wall. I didn't have time for this. I needed to run, not stumble. Gritting my teeth, I willed myself to move away from the wall and start down the hall. But before I took two steps, I remembered something else that had me turning around and running in the opposite direction, back to the main hall.

I wish I could say I was going back to check on Carl, and while the sight of him made me pause, it was the gun lying beside his body that I had returned for. I felt immense guilt as I grabbed the pistol, trying not to look at the still growing pool of blood spreading out from under him, but I vowed that I would return to try and help him.

After all, if there was something in this laboratory that could bring me back from the dead, then certainly there was something that could do the same for him.

Running. Running. Running. Down identical halls that seemed endless. Past doors that all looked the same. The place was a maze, designed to make you feel like you were running in circles. It was enough to drive you insane. And while I had no idea where I was going, I just had to rely on the direction my legs were taking me, hoping the lingering memories now fading to the back of my mind would be enough to help me navigate through the place.

And they were, because as I came upon a door, no different from any of the others, my legs slowed and brought me to standstill before it. My heart was thundering in my chest, and while I ached to pause a moment and regain my breath, my arm had other ideas. It flew up in front of me and threw the door open, revealing the monster I was looking for.

Melissa was sitting behind her desk, typing on her computer. She didn't even bother looking up as I stepped into the room.

"I thought you'd want to spend more time with your boyfriend," she said after a moment, still typing, a certain venom lacing the last word.

I walked up to her desk and with one sweep of my arm shoved the computer away where it crashed and shattered on the floor.

Melissa stopped typing. "Well that was quite rude." Her eyes caught sight of the gun I was holding. "Oh, Honey, even with that silly thing in your hand you don't look menacing at all," she chuckled.

I raised the pistol up so it was aimed at her head. "No?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, Sweetie. I've felt more fear at the sight of a dirty child running towards me."

I reaffirmed my grip on the gun, tightening my hold on it. I didn't come here to talk.

"I want the cure," I said, "I know that wasn't the only one, and if you don't give it to me right now I'll shoot you."

Melissa threw her head back and laughed. "You're not going to shoot me, I'm your only way off this island."

I lowered the gun and fired at her shoulder. A short scream that she was quick to repress left her lips before she clutched at the wound.

"Still so sure?" I asked.

She glared at me before pulling her hand back and looking down at it. It was drenched in blood. "That," she growled, her teeth clenched. "Was very rude."

"Funny," I replied. "I would have thought turning me into a monster and having me kill my friends was rude." I lifted the gun back up so it was aimed at her head again. "This is polite in comparison."

She laughed, but her shoulders shook with the movement so she stopped quickly. "I didn't turn you into a monster, I turned you into the future. We could—"

"The cure," I demanded, cutting her off. I wasn't interested in hearing anything else she had to say. Whatever insane justifications she had for her actions would only make me want to shoot her more anyway.

"There isn't one," she said, shrugging her other shoulder. I aimed the gun down at it and fired again.

She screamed, this time longer, both hands now clutching at each of her shoulders.

"The cure," I demanded again. Her face was pinched in pain as she hunched forward over the table. After a couple of moments though, she began to laugh softly.

Melissa straightened herself up in her seat, and let her bloodied hands fall from her shoulders where she folded them in her lap. "I'm going to bleed out in front of you," she smiled. "And when I die, so does any hope of saving the man you love."

I looked at her incredulously. "Why?" I asked. "Why are you doing this?"

She cocked her head to the side and smiled at me. "Because I want to see you both dead, and if I have to die in order for that to happen, so be it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and I didn't want to believe that anyone could possibly be this evil. There had to be a reason as to why she was doing this. I was a stranger to her. What had I done (besides shooting her in both shoulders) that could possibly warrant so much hatred? We were all strangers to her and yet...

No, that wasn't true. Alan wasn't a stranger to her. And yet she wanted him dead too. More memories began to brush at my mind, painting pictures of Melissa and I, responding to an alarm that the facility had been breached. I stood behind her in a small room that was filled from floor to ceiling with computer screens.

When she found the one that displayed the intruders, and saw who it was, a small gasp had left her lips. I stepped up to survey the screen myself and watch Melissa's reaction to the two men on it.

The way her eyes lit up when she saw Alan, the genuine smile that found itself on her face.

"Oh my God," I said after a moment. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" Without thinking, I began lowering the gun to my side at the realization.

"Ha! Don't be ridiculous," Melissa hissed quickly, but her eyes fell to the ground and I knew I was right.

For several seconds she refused to look at me, and for the first time in her presence I felt like I was in control, finally witnessing her show weakness.

"So what?" I huffed. "All this shit because you're just a crazy ex-girlfriend?" I found myself smiling at the ridiculousness of it.

She glared up at me.

"Oh, no. You're not even that, are you? He never loved you back, did he?" I started to laugh. "Wow, lady. You really are a piece of work."

"Fuck you," she spat, her shoulders beginning to rise and fall more heavily with her breathing.

"You're pathetic," I said, "are you seriously going to let yourself die rather than give me the cure?"

She shook her head and smiled, and I realized straight away that her mind was made up. "I'm not going to die," she said.

I looked at her for a moment, knowing that she was never going to give me the cure.

"Well..." I said, raising the gun back up. "Think again."

Her body was thrown back against the chair as I pulled the trigger, brain matter tainting the white room with a spray of red. For one blissful second, I felt elation at killing her, at the sight of the bloody hole in her forehead now dribbling blood down her face.

But then the reality of the situation hit me full force in the chest, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. I didn't have the cure.

I didn't have the cure.

There had to be something else I could do. Comb the halls, search every single fucking room in this place for anything that might save him. But even if there was another cure somewhere in here, it would probably be locked with a passcode, and the odds of finding the code were even slimmer than finding the cure itself. More solutions and plans formed in my mind, but they were all impractical, stupid and just plain desperate. I was beginning to think that there was nothing I could do.

Or was there... A thought entered my mind, one that had me questioning if I really believed it would work, or if I had merely become suicidal.

Maybe it was both. But whether it worked or not, whether it saved Alan or would just end up killing us both, I figured no matter the outcome, I couldn't lose. So I walked back down the never-ending halls, and as I turned a corner and came back to where I had left him, I found him standing, swaying ever so slightly, his back towards me.

I stopped at the end of the hall, imagining for a second that he would turn around, that his blue eyes would widen at the sight of me and he'd come running and scoop me up in his arms. But when I called his name, "Alan?" it was gray eyes that stared lifelessly at the sight of me. And it was a stagger that brought him to me, not a run.

"I love you," I said right before he reached me.

Right before he scooped me up in his arms, his hands gripping me too tightly, his nails digging into my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and let him bite down on my neck, gasping as the pain tore through me. And once I was certain he had ripped a chunk of flesh out, opened my eyes to see blood dripping down his lips, I shoved him away from me and stumbled back.

For a moment he just stood, chewing, swallowing. Then, slowly, the way the man on the plane had done so when all this began, Alan smiled at me. For half a second I thought my plan might have worked, but then his tongue stuck out to lick at the blood that coated his lips, and he began staggering towards me again.

"Alan please," I whispered, feeling warmth as blood cascaded from my neck. I took a step back, tears stinging at my eyes.