Last+One+Standing

Last One Standing By Emily Russak

He pulls out a small sample in the petri-dish from so many years before. They had the remedy, the remedy that could have not only cured smallpox from so long ago, but could cure so many other diseases as well. He takes out a small lab rat, careful not to get bitten, and injects the cure. Impatient for the outcome, he waits. For what has seemed like hours, he rests his head and cannot resist his heavy eyelids any longer. The outcome of the vaccination has taken place. Jittery, the rat knocks the plastic box it is in over. Eager for food, the rat rushes over and bites the still asleep scientist.

Dr. Mengdal awoke from his dream in a cold sweat, panting from the past that had changed his world. It was a new day. He went downstairs and followed his everyday routine: eat breakfast, take a shower, get dressed, and scour the deserted city for anything to survive, and any sign of hope. He knew he was running out of time. The barrier was decaying and it was not far from long till he could be one of them. Each night before having the same wretched dream he has had for the past three years, he works on his plan. He has heard of a safe place. A place that they started to build before the tragedy had worsened. He was not even sure if this place existed, but he would do anything for a sign of hope. His plan was set in stone and ready for action. He leaves tonight.

He slammed the car door shut. He had drven for some time now when he heard it. The terrible screeches and sounds he had never imagined to hear. "It's too early, not now, not yet," Dr. Mengdal quietly pleaded to himself. He thought by this time he would have been in the shelter, if there was such a shelter. There they were. Waiting for him at the boundaries of escape. More screeches. They had gotten his scent, smelled his delicious flesh and blood. He thought of just giving up, letting them get him, for there was a fine line between death and escape, but he could not give up now. It had been too tough of a three years to give up. Adrenaline flowed through him as he slammed the pedal down at the mutants. Blood splattered on his windshield as many of them flew off the hood of the car. The airbags burst from nowhere, and before he knew it, Dr. Mengdal fell unconcious.

Three months later, the cure was found in the shelter that Dr. Mengdal only thought was fantasy. Many people were trasformed to normal again, but many had not survived the dreadful plague, and of those many was Dr. Mengdal.