I’m reeling. I feel madness washing over me. In desperation I look to the prince of chaos for hope. “Is it true?” I scream at Mr. Dowling inside my head.
“Yes,” he answers miserably.
“But it can’t be!” I roar out loud at Dr. Oystein. “If that was the case, why lie to me when you captured me at the pub and took me to your secret lab? You thought I had the vial. Why bother with the charade at that late stage?”
“Because I wanted you to do the foul deed for me,” Dr. Oystein says softly. “I am a coward in many ways. I accept that I’m God’s earthly agent, but I never asked for this much power. I wanted someone to lighten my load, to spare me the final, awful degradation.
“The plan was for Zachary to accidentally set you free of his control. Released from his influence, you would have wrestled the vial of Clements-13 from me and uncorked it in the belief that you were targeting the undead. If you’d failed, I would have opened it myself, but you were my first choice. I felt that if it was done by someone who thought they were doing good, perhaps God could forgive them.”
I stare at the deranged doctor. I don’t want to believe what he’s telling me, but I know it’s true. His self-satisfied smile is all the proof that I need.
“I am genuinely sorry, B,” Dr. Oystein says again. “I would rather not have used you, but fate set things up this way. The Almighty knows I am a weak man. He chose one stronger than me to bear the dreadful burden.”
“Nice going, Becky,” Rage sneers, having trotted along behind Owl Man. “With heroes like you, who needs villains?”
I can’t respond. I’m numb with horror. I carry on staring at the doc, wanting this to be a bad dream or another of his lies.
“I’ve betrayed you,” Dr. Oystein says, “but it will be for the best in the long run. You must believe that. Humans are evil. This world is better off without the living. The babies will build a purer world. They’ll care for its wildlife and flora. They won’t overcrowd the continents or poison the atmosphere. They’ll work to heal what has been wounded, and live in love and peace.
“And it will be under your guidance,” he says, addressing the stunned Angels. “You’ll be their guardians. You will help them grow and learn, teach them to be good, highlight the errors of the past, help them not to replicate the mistakes of their ancestors.
“If you wish, I can be part of that process. If you feel you have need of me, I will make myself available, although I am by no means essential. I have left instructions with numerous Angels across the globe. They will help you carry out my wishes and show you what needs to be done when your supplies of human brains run out.
“But, if you think that my sins are too grave, I’ll accept execution too,” the doc finishes. “To be honest, I would prefer it. This has been a hard life. I will be glad to step down from the path. If you choose to punish me, I won’t resist.”
He smiles at me again, but warmly this time, offering me the right to pass judgment on him, to kill him if I wish.
“You lunatic!” someone screams behind us, shattering the strange solemnity of the moment. “What the hell have you done?”
It’s Vicky Wedge, lurching towards us, waving a handgun.
“I set the world free from your wicked grasp,” Dr. Oystein retorts.
“You’ve killed us all!” Vicky shrieks.
“It was necessary,” Dr. Oystein says.
“You have to stop it,” Josh thunders, striding up next to Vicky. His face is black with rage. “There must be some way to counteract the virus. A cure. Don’t make us force you to tell us.”
“There is no cure,” Dr. Oystein says. “Nothing can change what has been done. The virus is unleashed. It cannot be halted.”
“What if we cage ourselves in?” Josh shouts. “Lock ourselves down and stop it from spreading?”
“Sacrifice yourselves to save the rest of the world?” Dr. Oystein shakes his head. “I admire your commitment, but this is a virus unlike any other that has ever wormed its way through our system. You can’t contain it.”
My mind is whirring, but one thought has pushed its way to the forefront. I know that fear will paralyze me if I don’t act swiftly. So, trying not to think it through too much, I turn away from Dr. Oystein and bend over. My body heaves as if I’m vomiting, and I clasp my hands to my chest as if in prayer.
“Poor girl,” Dr. Oystein says. “Nobody should have to go through what she has.”
“Forget about her,” Vicky Wedge screeches. “Tell us how we stop this thing or I’ll put a bullet through your head.”
“You would be doing me a great service if you did,” Dr. Oystein answers icily. “As I said, the virus cannot be stopped. Humanity is finished. A new age is upon us. There is nothing anybody can do to stop that now.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, doc,” I say, turning calmly.
While my back was turned, I slipped the vial of zombie-felling Schlesinger-10 out of its resting place in my bandages. While I was pretending to vomit and pray, I removed the cork on the first vial, turned it over, slid out the second vial, removed the cork on that and let the ordinary glass slip into my hands.
I hold the tube of white liquid over my head so that everyone can see. As Dr. Oystein’s eyes fill with terror… as Owl Man tries to bark an order, but only produces a thick torrent of blood and shredded bits of tongue… as Master Zhang hurls himself at me, bellowing with a mixture of rage and fear… as everyone in the room focuses on me and the object in my hands…
I hurl the tube of Schlesinger-10 at the floor and watch with grim satisfaction as it fractures into hundreds of pieces and sends its deadly contents flying.