We joined the ambulance at the hospital.
A kindly nurse guided me to a private room, where there was a chemical shower and examination table behind a curtain. By a computer was a blocky-looking device encased in white metal. Above a set of cabinets were a sharps box, a bottle of hand sanitizer and a glove dispensary.
I went behind a curtain and removed my wet clothes, passing them back to the nurse, who would incinerate them.
I took a mandatory chemical shower and got dressed in lilac scrubs with a teddy bear print, then I came back through the curtain. For shoes I had a pair of thin slippers, like the disposable ones found at cheap hotels.
“What’s this?” The nurse said, holding up the plastic bag she’d taken from my jacket pocket.
“It’s a sample of the island’s plant.”
She dropped it on the floor and stood back. “I’ll let someone know and they’ll get it looked at.”
She asked permission to take a sample of my blood, a cotton swab of my mouth and scrapings from beneath my fingernails. All the samples went into a hatch in the metal block.
“What is it you’re looking for?” I asked.
“We’re calling it GRSE for the moment. Glow-related spongiform encephalopathy.”
“Where have I heard that before?”
“It’s caused by prions. You know, like Creutzfeldt-Jakob?”
I shook my head.
“Mad cow disease?”
My stomach sank.
The screen in front of her beeped and turned green. “You don’t have it.”
She guided me out the room and down the hall, leading me toward a different wing of the hospital.
The tests had taken so long that it was dark outside. As we pushed through two sets of double doors, the lighting got brighter, harsher.
She sat me down on a bench. Through the glass in front of me, she told me, was Joanna’s quarantine. “They found traces of plastic in her stomach. You know anything about it?”
Maybe it had to do with becoming an EO. But I didn’t know for sure, so I shook my head.
More sheets of opaque plastic separated me from Joanna—but there was a triangular gap at the bottom.
“You don’t want to see,” the nurse said.
I couldn’t help it. I peered in.
Smock-clad doctors intubated Joanna. Some sat on chairs on either side of her and jabbed her with needles to put ports in her veins. I shuddered at the way the plastic tubes snaked towards her. The room’s bright lighting enhanced how unnatural it looked. Big blinding white lamps set up in each corner connected a black extension reel that sat on the floor.
I recoiled, looking up and down the hallway. There were multiple booths just like this one, masked by opaque plastic. A ward of Glowfolk.
“Your boyfriend will be back soon,” the nurse said. “And a counsellor will come by later.”
“Why?”
“It’s best if he tells you. One thing at a time, dear.”
“Are there others from the island here?”
She nodded. “In all these rooms.”
I looked up and down the corridor. “I didn’t know there were any other escapees still alive.”
“Well,” she said, “we believe they came from the island—but they can’t talk anymore. We found them roaming the town.” She touched my arm. “You’re safe here though.”
“But, wait.”
The nurse turned.
I was so lost I didn’t even know what more to ask.
She looked around. “Okay, I’m not supposed to.” She took a phone out of her pocket and handed it to me. “I’ll come back for it later.”
“Thank you.”
I used it to search for news about the island.
Live aerial footage showed the island in the dark. Three of its towers were on fire, yellow flames waving from them, giving off plumes of black smoke. Articles speculated about an accident occurring out there, but there were no names released yet. What would become of Patricia, Summer, Gabriel, Melodie?
Corinne had a new video up on The Switch, in which she interviewed Dennis Howell. He looked greasier than ever in the thumbnail. I’d have to pay to watch the full thing. I’d create an account for myself on one of my own devices when I was back with them again. For now, I had a brief preview video.
Dennis was uneasy having his authority questioned. “Our self-actualization task force has told you people time and again that we have no connection to that damn island. Our programs are flourishing. Of course this doesn’t negatively impact our work. Beyond supporting the group’s environmental initiatives, we’re not associated with them at all.”
“Our investigators traced the distribution of octadrone to your facilities,” Corinne said. “The supply came from the island. What are you going to do now that—”
Dennis got up, tore his microphone off and walked away.
We’d surely harmed the Glow. Whether they’d claimed ownership of it, the impenetrable mystique of their island was their strongest symbol. One of the biggest reasons, surely, that few ever challenged them. Now it was ablaze across every major new outlet. Not only that, but as its supply of the drug that kept them all zombified, their brainwashing capabilities would take a major hit as well.
Only time would tell how badly. Did a movement ever die off when its leaders were taken out? Pernicious ideas were harder to kill than the people who came up with them.
I sank into the leather couch, wondering if I’d get a chance to tell Corinne in person what had happened to Heath before she had to read about it in some police report—provided there was any evidence left—and what I’d say to her if given the opportunity.
The weight of all I’d done and all I had left to do pressed down upon me at once. My mind shut down to deal with it all, sending me quickly to sleep.