Going Viral: Kiss Me before Doomsday

FASTER! She willed her feet. But they wouldn’t go. Please, for the love of God, run faster. Cara’s chest was on fire, her lungs burning with every icy breath. She chanced a look over her shoulder, and to her horror the screaming mob was getting closer. “IMMUNE!” They all shouted, “WE ARE IMMUNE!” They angrily waved torn masks in the air as they charged ahead, spit flying from their mouths with every hate-filled scream. She willed herself to run faster, pumping her arms and legs as hard as she could. An older man ran a few paces behind her. She couldn’t see his whole face behind his surgical mask, but what she could see was the sheer terror in his eyes. And so she ran, gasping harder for air with every step. A few more yards, she thought, a few more yards and I’ll be safe. She could hear the crazed crowd getting closer, their feet pounding the pavement with fury, clambering over each other to reach her. It was like watching a herd of starved wild animals vying for a meal. The muscles in her legs were on fire by the time her apartment building came into view. Like the few other habitable buildings on the block, it was heavily fortified with iron bars on every window and door. It was her graffiti-covered safe haven. She fumbled in her pocket for her keys as she ran, but her shaky hands couldn’t find them. Damnit. Damnit. The only word her frantic brain could form. Damnit. Just then, she heard a thump behind her. She glanced backward to see that man who'd been running behind her had tripped on the crumbling sidewalk. He was trying to scramble back to his feet, but his legs weren't as young and strong as hers. Blood was soaking through the fabric of his pants where the flesh of his knees had been ripped open on the jagged concrete. She slowed for a moment, wondering if she could risk stopping to help the stranger. She wanted to badly to save him. Every ounce of humanity within her was urging her to do so, despite the fact that she hadn't gotten close to another human being in nearly two years. She paused for a moment and took a step toward the limping man, but the mob surged ahead like a rabid freight train. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to him, then reluctantly tore her gaze away as she turned around and took off running again on her shaky legs. The guilt overcame her like a tidal wave of nausea, but she couldn't slow down. She reached the iron-barred door of her apartment building, but there was no time for relief. Her body was vibrating with fear, unable to steady her hands long enough to unlock the heavy deadbolt. After an eternity of fumbling, she finally inserted the key. As she opened the door, she looked back. The mob had swarmed around the old man, ripping off his mask to reveal his terror-stricken face in whole. “IMMUNE!” They screamed at him, holding his arms and legs back. They began spitting in his face, licking their hands and wiping his mouth with saliva. The old man strained to keep his eyes and mouth shut. One woman pried his lips open with white knuckles as the leader of the mob approached. She was a hard-looking young woman who wore a machete strapped to her back, her crazed red curls tied in a knot atop her head. “Relax, old man,” she said. “I’m just trying to save you.” She leaned down to allow a long train of saliva slip into his mouth as the man wailed. She grabbed his jaw with her calloused fingers, leaned in and planted a kiss on the old man’s quivering lips. The scene before Cara was so horrifying that she didn’t even realize that she’d frozen in her tracks. Until the red-headed cult leader dropped the sobbing man unceremoniously onto the pavement and looked back up with a greasy smile. The mob charged ahead with renewed fury. “LET US SAVE YOU!” Some of wailed. Others just shrieked like rabid beasts. Cara frantically turned the key and pushed the heavy door open with a creak. She slithered through the opening, slamming it behind her with all of the strength she could muster. The fastest member of the mob crashed into the door with clumsy rage, and he grasped at the handle. Cara’s quivering hands somehow managed to turn the deadbolt just in time. He pulled on the handle like a lunatic, pounding the thick glass with his fist. Boom, the door rattled under his rabid anger. Boom. Boom. She gasped with every impact, her chest still aching from exhaustion. The other members of the group began to approach with fire in their eyes. “It’s bulletproof and metal enforced,” Cara tried to shout through shallow breaths. “You’ll never get in.” The fire-haired girl pushed through the crowd, making her way to the front once more. She placed a calloused and scarred hand on the glass right by Cara’s face, then leaned in so close that a mist formed on the surface from her heaving breaths. “We know who you are, Cara James,” she muttered. “And we know that you’re clean. We will show you the way. We will make you immune... or we will end you.” With that, she dropped her hand and turned to walk away with the rest of her posse following suit. She paused to look over her shoulder one last time. “Be sure to post a cute photo tonight,” she shouted, “Give your followers something to remember you by.”