It was a rainy night drive for Doctor James Morton. He used caution as he steered his red Sunfire down the wet state road 885. The heavy downpour created a chorus of distracting thumps as it came down onto his car. His eyes caught the intense flash of light in his rear view mirror. He looked into the mirror and saw the reflection of his own youthful face with his dark complexion. The flash of light was from a car that had driven up behind him with their high beams on. Almost blinding him.“Idiot,” Morton grumbled. He raised his mirror up so that the lights would not shine into his eyes. He looked to the right at the small clock built into the car’s radio. The glowing red numbers displayed the time. 12:15 A.M. Any other time Morton would not be out at this hour, driving in this rain. But tonight he had a special mission that required him to be out here at this time. A mission that was both unethical and illegal. But would earn him great rewards if he succeeded.Morton worked as a research assistant for a small company called Guardian Technologies. They were dedicated to the goal of bringing modern medicine into the 21st Century. Guardian had a staff of twelve brilliant scientific minds that were working on creating cures for the many afflictions that mankind has suffered with beyond the past century. Guardian’s star player was Doctor Albert Hanson. The brilliant head of research that Morton worked under. He was also a man that Morton disliked and envied. Hanson was working on completing the grand project that had the company’s full attention. Bacteria based nano machines that could steer the world into the field of nano medicine. Such an application would present unlimited medical benefits for mankind, as Morton knew. Hanson’s nano virus, named NV368, was the subject of Morton’s mission on this dark and rainy night. His goal was to steal a sample of it.Morton’s car approached the familiar sight of the black iron fence at the right that surrounded the Pleasant Hills Cemetery. Driving a few feet further Morton came to the road on the left, along with the large, blue sign that read, Guardian Technologies. Research and Development, in white letters. He turned left and drove a few feet down the road until he came to a small parking area at the right. It was a black surface with faded yellow lines at the left and right that formed parking spaces. Past the parking area was a eight foot high chain link fence that surrounded the one story brick building that housed the laboratory. In the daylight working hours the front and rear parking lots would be filled. At this late hour the only vehicle that Morton expected to see was the blue Ford truck that was parked at the right side of the lot. It was owned by Willie Slate, the security guard who worked the night shift.Morton parked next to Willie’s truck and got out of his car. The heavy rain soaked his black coat and grey pants. Running on this wet surface with his black shoes and their smooth, flat soles Morton almost slipped and fell before he reached the guard’s station at the right side of the fence. The small, white wooden booth with a window on it’s three sides and a door at the rear. It had just enough room to seat one person. The light from inside made the booth stand out like a lighthouse on a seashore. Sitting inside the booth was Willie Slate. The stereo typical security guard, in Morton’s view. A chubby old man past the age of sixty with glasses, thinning white hair and a white moustache. He was dressed in a black uniform with a silver badge pinned on the right side of his coat. Morton theorized that the inscription on Willie’s badge read, Senile Old Fool.Willie slid the front window open as Morton drew near. “Doctor Morton. What brings you out here? Working late?”Morton had to create an excuse to satisfy Willie’s curiosity. “I forgot my cell phone. I have to make some important calls tomorrow. Can you let me in? I‘ll be in and out.”Willie smiled. “Sure thing, Doc. The gate‘s unlocked.” He walked out from the booth and went to the gate. He pulled it open wide enough to admit Morton. Eager to get out of the rain Morton ran across another slippery, paved surface to reach the lab. He came to a grey metal door with a small window. It was locked, as Morton expected. But he was fortunate to have his own key. Morton entered the building, grateful to be out of the rain. He walked down a dark corridor with grey brick walls. The first two rooms that he passed on his left and right were administrative offices. Moving further he passed the door to a room at his left that was used for storage. At his right was the door to the bathroom. The dim light at the end of the corridor was the area of Morton’s interest. The large room that contained the laboratory and the sample of Hanson’s NV368.The room was furnished with six black counters lined into two rows. They held a variety of liquid filled beakers and test tubes held in their plastic racks. Microscopes, large box shaped electronic apparatus, and computer keyboards sitting in front of flat screen monitors. Standing against the left and right walls were metal shelves holding cardboard boxes and jars of chemicals. Morton’s destination was the table in the far right corner of the room. It held several beakers and test tubes filled with different colored chemicals. A computer keyboard and monitor. There was also a small sealed jar that contained what appeared to be a cluster of metallic blue barnacles that gave off faint white glows at their centers. Next to the jar was a small shiny metal case with a yellow light glowing through it’s glass door. Inside the case was a small glass vial filled with a green liquid. This was the object that Morton was here to obtain. NV368.Morton noticed that the computer monitor was on, displaying the image of Albert Einstein’s face. It was the screen saver that Hanson used. What idiot left this on? he wondered. He reached into his coat pocket and brought out a small vial of his own. All he needed was to take a small sample of the nano virus and a copy of it’s formula, then he would be home free.There was a ringing sound coming from his right coat pocket. He reached in and brought out his black cell phone. He looked on it’s glowing face to see who would have the nerve to call him at this time. He saw the name, Jack McCord. The head of Baxter Corporation. The man that Morton was stealing NV368 for. He pressed the talk button and spoke into the phone.“Hello? Mister McCord?”“Hello, Morton,” McCord’s cheerful voice responded. “I thought I’d call you and see how things are coming with the acquisition.”It’s coming along, sir. I’ve got everything that we need and I’m just heading out now. I should be in your office within the hour.”“Great. My lab boys are looking forward to getting their hands on this virus. We’ve got big things planned. Especially for you as my new head of research. Not to mention the bonus that we agreed upon for delivery of the goods.”“You’re too generous, Mister McCord. I want to thank you again for your offer.”“My pleasure. See you in a few.”McCord hung up. Morton put his phone back into his pocket. Then he felt the sudden touch of a hand on his left shoulder. He cried out and jumped. He turned, startled at the sight of his boss. A thin, middle aged black man with thinning grey and black hair and round glasses. He wore black loafers and pants, and a white lab coat over his grey sweater. There was a beaker with steaming hot water in his hand. This was Doctor Albert Hanson. The last person that Morton expected to see at this time.“Doctor Hanson. What are you doing here?” asked Morton. His body shaking.“I got here a minute ago and had to use the bathroom.”“I didn’t see your car parked outside.”“I’m parked in the back lot like I always do. I wanted to do a little more work on the NV368,” Hanson replied, looking to the case on the table. “I wanted to try a new approach to altering it’s molecular sequence so that we can have a better control over how it reproduces. It’s too unstable. And like a virus it spreads like wildfire in lower temperatures. That’s why we end up with these barnacles.”Hanson opened the jar containing the metal barnacles and poured the water from the beaker into it. A second later the lights shining from the barnacles faded out.Hanson placed the beaker on the table. “Just like a virus a little heat kills it. I also want to address our problem with the bioluminescence. Having our test subjects glowing is a distraction. But the healing properties are still amazing. Have you looked in at Stinky the Rat?”“No, sir.”“Go take a look. It’s amazing,“ said Hanson, pointing to the counter behind him at his left. There was a small glass case lined with a grassy bedding. Scurrying about the case was a white lab rat. A row of tiny white lights glowed along it’s back. “His spinal cord damage that we induced has completely healed. And practically overnight. His partial paralysis is gone. He’s up and about stronger than before. Just think of it, Morton. With a little more work we could actually regenerate nervous tissue and repair damaged limbs. Even repair severed limbs. All we need to do is to make the nanites more stable. But that’s enough about NV368. Let’s talk about you. What are you doing here at this hour?”Morton recycled the same excuse that he used on Willie. “I forgot my cell phone.”“You were just talking on your cell phone. You were talking to a McCord. That name sounds familiar.”“My girlfriend.”Hanson’s eyes narrowed. “Your call your girlfriend Mister?”“Only when she's in a bad mood.”Hanson raised a finger to Morton. “Wait. McCord. I know that name. McCord. Not Jack McCord of Baxter Corp, on the North Side. Were you talking to him?”Morton scratched his head. “No.”“What do you mean no?” Hanson snapped. “I heard you.”Morton gave a loud sigh. The hell with it. He’s got me. “Ok. I was talking to Jack McCord. Happy now?”“Why were you talking to him?”“Here’s the story. I made a deal with him. He wants NV368.”Hanson’s jaw dropped when he heard this detail. “He wants NV368? And you’re here to do what?”“What do you think? I’m here to get it for him?” Morton’s impatient reply.“What?”“And the formula too. That would help.”Morton leaned down to the computer keyboard and typed in the command to summon the page for the work files on NV368. The monitor turned black with a small white box in the center that asked for a password. This was no problem for Morton, since he had memorized the password after working so close to Hanson over the past few weeks. He used the mouse to click on the blank space on the box. Then he typed in the password, Resurrection. He clicked on enter. A reply came up on the box. Password invalid.“What the hell is this?” Morton asked.“I changed the password,” Hanson explained. “I thought that it would be a good idea to increase security. It appears that I made the right decision.”Morton threw his hand up in the air. “Did you get a dog too? Look, I need the password to get to the formula.”Hanson laughed. “Are you insane? Just give you my life’s work so that you can hand it over to McCord? His company makes bio weapons. NV368 was designed for medical purposes.”Morton nodded. “Yeah. I know. Bullets or bandages. But bullets pays more. Look, play ball with me and maybe McCord will make a deal with you too. You won’t believe the money that he’s willing to pay for this. I’ll put in a good word for you. So are you going to give me the password?”Defiant, Hanson put his hands on his hips. “You’ve got to be insane. Hell no!”“Ok then,” said Morton. He raised his right arm and threw a solid fist into Hanson’s face. Hanson staggered back onto a counter. Knocking over several beakers and test tubes. The sound of breaking glass filled the lab as they hit the floor.Morton rushed over and grabbed Hanson by his neck and spun him around to shove him into the wall near the table. “Give me the password!” Morton shouted.Hanson, with his face turning pale and his eyes wide with fear, let out a gasp. Then gave his reply. “Morton. You’re fired!”Morton grinned. “Like that’s going to make a difference.”He spun Hanson around and threw him back onto the counter. More glassware fell and broke. Along with the computer monitor. Hanson also fell to the floor. Screaming in a loud voice. “Help! Help! Somebody help!”“Who do you think’s going to save you?” asked a grinning Morton.The sound of a familiar voice rang through the lab. “Hello! What’s going on?”Oh damn! Willie! Morton thought. “Be right back,” Morton told Hanson. He ran over to the hallway and was met by Willie, who was holding a flashlight.“Doc. What’s going on?” Willie asked. “I heard Doctor Hanson.”“He’s ok,” Morton replied. Smiling. “He just slipped and bumped his head.”“Willie! He tried to kill me!” Hanson’s voice called out.“What?” asked Willie. Stepping back from Morton.The hell with it, thought Morton. He reached into his left coat pocket and brought out a gun. A Glock 9MM. He took a quick aim at Willie’s chest and pulled the trigger. The sound of a loud crack filled Morton’s ears. The odor of gunpowder caught his nose. Willie let out a grunt when the bullet hit him. He dropped the flashlight. Then his body fell forward and landed on top of it.Hanson’s voice cried out from behind Morton. “Willie! What’s going on?”Morton was frozen as he watched a pool of blood grow out from under Willie’s body. He had just killed the man. Morton came prepared for this possibility when he brought the gun. But earlier on the notion of killing to help achieve his goal was just an idea. Now the reality of having used the gun left him shocked. But too much was at stake. The money and the job that McCord offered him. Willie was not going to stand in his way. And neither was Hanson.Morton went back into the lab. He saw Hanson standing in front of the table. His hand was on his throat. Morton raised the gun. “What the hell were you doing?”Hanson gagged. Then leaned his head back and swallowed.“What’s your problem?” Morton inquired. He looked at the table, noticing that the cabinet was open. The vial with NV368 was gone.Morton grabbed Hanson’s collar and held the gun to his face. “Where’s the vial?”Hanson coughed. “I swallowed it,” he replied in a hoarse voice. “I need water.”“What?” Morton looked to the ceiling and screamed in a rage. He jammed the gun against Hanson’s nose. What do I do now? he asked himself. This little prick has me screwed. And I’ve got a body to get rid of. Morton thought of his options, which were few. Then an idea came to his mind. The cemetery. An ideal place to move dead bodies. Starting with Hanson’s.Morton pulled Hanson along by his collar and took him out of the building. It was still raining when they stepped out onto the parking lot and walked down the road, then crossed the road, 885 to reach the cemetery gates.“Move your ass,” Morton snapped at the lagging Hanson. He pulled the gate open and dragged Hanson into the cemetery. They stepped cover three graves before Morton threw Hanson to the wet ground. The cold rain soaked Morton’s face and flowed into his eyes as he looked about. To his right he saw a wooden shed. There were tools leaning against it’s side. A shovel, a pitchfork, an ax, and a scythe. Morton selected the ax. He walked over and put his foot on Hanson’s back. He raised the ax.“I want the password,” he shouted over the sound of the rain.Laying in a wide puddle Hanson looked up. “Kiss my ass, Morton!”“Last Chance!” said Morton. “I want the password.”“Go to hell!”Morton stepped back and stomped his foot on Hanson’s left hand. He raised the ax and brought it down. Severing Hanson’s forearm in one neat stroke. Hanson’s pained scream was louder that anything Morton had ever heard. Then he heard the sound of his cell phone ringing. He saw that it was McCord calling again.“Hello Mister McCord, sir.”“Morton. Where are you? We’re waiting here and you still haven’t shown up.”Morton needed a viable excuse. “I’m on my way, sir. But I’m stuck on the parkway. There’s construction going on. Traffic is backed up. It‘s a mess out here.”There was another scream from Hanson.“Morton. What the hell was that?”“I hit a deer sir.” Morton cursed himself for being such a bad liar.“A deer? screaming like that?”“It was a buck. They’re noisier. Look, traffic is finally moving. I have to go. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”Morton turned off his phone with the knowledge that his meeting with McCord would be much longer if Hanson did not surrender the computer’s password so that he could at least give McCord the NV368 formula. He looked down at Hanson. It was too dark for him to see the blood from Hanson’s stump flowing out to mix with the rain water. He kicked away Hanson’s severed limb and walked over to his right arm. He stood on Hanson’s fingers and raised the ax.“I want the password!” Morton shouted down at Hanson. “I‘m not playing around! There‘s too much at stake! This is your last chance!”Hanson looked up at Morton. He gnashed his teeth and growled. Then he gave Morton his final answer. “I told you to go to hell once, Morton. You go burn in hell. And I’ll be there to shovel charcoal into your mouth!”Morton looked up to the rainy sky. Then looked down at Hanson and heaved a sigh. “Ok then. Suit yourself.”Hanson screamed as Morton swung the ax down. The blade sliced through and severed his right forearm. Hanson’s next scream was even louder. Morton stepped back and kicked Hanson over onto his back. He threw the ax aside and aimed the gun. “I’m fired? No! You’re fired!”Morton squeezed off a shot, striking Hanson in the heart. A second shot hit just below the first. Hanson lay still. And to Morton’s relief quiet at last. Morton weighed the results of this night so far. He had two bodies to dispose of, then had to find some way to get into the computer and get the NV368 formula so that he can deliver it to McCord. He reached down and grabbed Hanson’s ankle. He dragged the body across the wet ground over two graves and came to a spot near the fence. Trying to ignore the chill that he felt with his rain drenched clothes, he went back to the shed and got the shovel. Morton made a quick effort to dig a hole that would be big enough to contain both Hanson and Willie. After several minutes Morton stopped digging and inspected his work. He estimated that the oblong hole was five feet deep. It had to be deep enough for two bodies because he had no more time and energy to continue.Morton dragged Hanson over and kicked him into the hole. He then ran back to the lab to drag Willie out so that he could share the grave with Hanson. Now came the tiresome chore of filling in the hole with shovels of mud and cover them up with the hope that they would never be discovered.Once Morton returned to the lab his entire body was shivering under his cold, wet clothes. But there was nothing that he could do about that now. His priority was to find a way to crack the password problem with the computer and get the NV368 formula. Morton sat down at the computer and typed in any word that he thought Hanson would use. He went through a wide mental list of possible passwords. All of which were failures. Hanson sat and typed. And continued to get failure after failure. He checked his watch. An hour passed since he started. He typed in one more word. Hansonsucks. He pressed enter. The result was the same. Password invalid.Morton threw his hands up in the air in a rage of frustration. He let out a scream. Then he aimed the gun at the monitor. I’ll threaten it. Morton told himself. Then he reconsidered. Like that will work. Morton turned and threw the gun across the room. Then he jumped as he was surprised by the sound of three loud knocks at the main door. Who the hell is that? he asked himself. Morton walked to the corridor. He stopped and his heart pounded fast and heavy when he saw twin lights shining through the window. To his mind that meant only one thing. The police!There were three knocks on the door again. Morton panicked. The police at the door. With flashlights. What are they here for? Then Morton looked to the floor at the pool of Willie’s blood. And the long red smear across the floor that he created when he dragged Willie’s body outside. Oh shit! He had meant to clean that up after he got into the computer. Then Morton heard his cell phone ringing in his pocket. He took it out and saw that it was another incoming call from McCord. He knew what McCord wanted. There were three more knocks to the door. Frantic, Morton spun around. Trying to think of what to do. Ignoring the police was not an option. They knew he was here. Running was also a bad idea. He had to confront them and try to come up with a story that they might believe. Even though Morton was still a bad liar.Ignoring his ringing cell phone, Morton went up to the door. He took a deep breath and composed himself. Then he smiled and opened the door. “Hello officers.”Morton was not greeted by two police officers wielding flashlights. Instead he opened the door to the sight of Doctor Hanson. He stood at the doorway with his face and clothes covered by mud. His lips were parted and his teeth were clenched in a cheerless grin. Spots across Hanson’s forehead and cheeks that were not covered by mud revealed patches of the same small metallic barnacles that Morton saw inside the jar on the table. They were giving off the same tiny lights, but not as strong as the lights that shined from Hanson’s eyes. Bright beams of light that shined from what seemed to be hollow eye sockets. But the most striking feature about Hanson were his arms. Morton had chopped his Human arms off. Now his right arm was replaced by a three foot long wooden pole that ended with the blade of a scythe. His left arm was replaced by a wooden pole with a pitchfork at it’s end. Both pitchfork and scythe poles were encrusted by thick globules of the small, glowing metal barnacles.Hanson did not come alone. There were other inhuman things standing behind him. Willie was here. His exposed teeth gnashing. Patches across his cheeks were covered with the barnacles. His eyes glowed like a car’s headlights. Next to him was a thing that was once a female. Dressed in a long, ragged gown that was a mix of white, marred with grey and black stains. Her skull face and glowing eyes were obscured by a tattered veil. Behind her was a man who’s decomposed skeletal form was dressed in a black suit caked with mud. Patches of withered skin across his face hung down to reveal bulging lumps of the barnacles.Morton was so filled with fear that he was speechless. Unable to even breathe. He backed away as Hanson took slow steps towards him. His muddy feet hitting the floor with heavy thumps. Morton turned to run, then he slipped and fell to the floor. Landing on his face. Morton held his nose as pain stabbed through his head. His cell phone was still ringing in his pocket. It was starting to annoy him. He looked back to see that he had slipped on the pool of Willies’ blood that he neglected to clean up. He was about to rise when Hanson raised his scythe arm and brought the blade down onto his right ankle. Morton cried out as the blade penetrated his sock, flesh and bone with a moist crunch.Hanson used the blade to pull the struggling Morton back. He pulled the blade out from Morton’s ankle and brought it down again on his right thigh. Morton screamed again. Thoughts of death flashed through his mind. He had to escape this walking dead thing and it’s companions. Hanson pulled the blade out of Morton’s thigh. That was when Morton made a frantic effort to crawl forward. With his right leg burning with pain he managed to climb to his feet and limp back into the lab. He kept moving until he reached the other side of the room. He turned and looked back at the corridor. He heard the thump sounds of the creatures slow footsteps and saw the multiple beams of light from their eyes. They were coming for him.Morton panicked as he wondered what he could do. He received little comfort when his cell phone stopped ringing. He leaned against the wall as the pain from his bleeding wounds made his right leg feel weaker. He could feel his shoe filling with blood. The gun! he thought. If only he had not thrown it away. There was no time to look for it now. He turned to his left, remembering the emergency exit. Holding onto the wall he limped forward to the far corner and came to the grey door with the word, Exit, painted in red letters. Morton pushed the door open and limped down a dark corridor for a few feet until he reached another door.Morton stepped outside and was greeted by a downpour of cold rain in his face. He looked about to see that he stumbled from one trap to another. He was closed in by the tall fence that surrounded the property. His only avenue of escape was the front gate. Then to his car. Morton turned and stumbled forward while hoping that Hanson and the other zombies did not cut him off. As he passed the main door to the building he could see the lights from their eyes glowing through the window. They’re coming! he thought.Almost dragging his right leg behind him, Morton pushed himself to move faster until he passed through the main gate and headed for his car. He opened the driver’s side door and sat down. He struggled to pull his keys out of his pocket. Then he received a shock when he saw that the ignition and lower part of the steering column was covered by a thick layer of the glowing metal barnacles.“Dammit!” Morton cried. He clawed at the barnacles with his hand but they were as solid as a sheet of steel. With the ignition sealed up using the car and driving off was no longer an option. This has to be Hanson’s doing, Morton told himself. His only chance now was to get out of the car and keep running. He crossed the parking lot and limped down the road. He looked back to see the groups of lights from the zombie’s eyes. They were still after him. Morton kept moving. He crossed the road and entered the cemetery. That was when he stopped and thought, Coming here is a really bad idea. Chased by zombies and you run to a cemetery? Then he wondered what to do next. He looked to the fence several feet away and noticed a gate. A way out. He looked back and could still see the lights pursuing him. Morton had to move.With his leg still aching Morton charged forward and reached the gate. He opened it and kept going, moving across a field of tall grass. In the distance he saw two houses. His salvation was there. He could seek refuge in one of them. They were only a few yards away. He hoped that he would not bleed to death before he reached them. As Morton approached the first house he stumbled and fell on his face. For a minute he lay on the cold ground, gasping for air while inhaling drops of rainwater with each breath. Then he blacked out. When he regained consciousness he rose and looked up at the house. That was when his jaw dropped. The dark, three story house, with it’s broken out windows was abandoned. Looking at it’s right the second house was in the same condition. Morton’s hope of refuge and rescue were now dead.Morton heard a squishing sound come from behind him. Like wet footprints. He turned and saw Hanson and the other zombies advancing upon him. They were only six feet away. Hanson raised his scythe arm, ready to strike. Morton scrambled to his feet and bolted for the house. He ran up onto the creaking boards of it’s wooden porch and was at least grateful to see that the front door was ajar. He ran into the house, finding himself in a large empty room with brown, dead leaves littered across it’s floor. There was a staircase at the left. Morton ran up the stairs and found himself on the second floor. He was in a short hallway. At the far left was the open door to a bathroom. He could see the edge of a white bathtub. At the right of the bathroom was the door to a room. There was the doorway to an empty room in front of him. And one at the far right of the hallway. Morton headed to the right, desperate to find a place to hide. The third door that he came upon was to another empty room. But behind him on the opposite side of the hallway was another door. Morton pulled it open and found a dark stairway. Then he heard a noise coming from down stairs. The heavy thump of footsteps on the front porch. He knew who that was. With nowhere else to go Morton dashed up the stairs.On the third floor of the house Morton found himself in a dark room that had very little light shining through the broken out window near the stairs, and at the wall on the right side of the room. In the center of the wall up ahead was a door. Morton limped forward and pushed the door open. He entered a dark, empty room with a closed window on the wall at the other side. He turned to the right corner of the room and saw a door. He limped to the door and opened it. It saw a small closet with two wire clothes hangers hooked to a wooden pole at his eye level. Morton heard a noise coming from downstairs. Then the faint sounds of footsteps. Several footsteps. Moving slow but growing louder as they drew near. Morton panicked. He gagged, swallowing a mouthful of saliva that went down his trachea by accident. He limped over to the door to this small room. His shaking hands pushed the door shut. Then he darted into the only hiding place available. The closet.Morton kneeled down under the pole. He mentally scolded himself. This is so damn stupid. This is stupid. I’m trapped here. Where the hell was I going to go? This is stupid. He shut the door as he listened to the thump of footsteps making their slow climb up the staircase below. Morton’s entire body was shivering. Not from the cold, but from fear. Maybe Hanson won’t find me. Maybe he’ll get tired of looking and give up. Maybe he’ll go away and go look for some teenagers to eat. That’s how these things work in the movies. Morton listened to the sound of the footsteps. They stopped on the second floor. Then they resumed. They grew louder. Closer. Their sound was now at the door to the third floor stairs.They’re not going away! Morton’s frantic mind told him. They’re not going away! Maybe Hanson isn’t that pissed at me. Maybe I can talk to him. Maybe I can apologize. The thump of the footsteps grew louder.I’m sorry that I cut off your arms. I’m sorry that I shot you twice. Yeah. Just tell him that you’re sorry.Morton wondered how all this could have happened. Then he thought back to when Hanson had swallowed the vial that contained the nano virus, NV368. Was it possible that when he shot Hanson a bullet shattered the vial and released NV368? And did Morton spread the nano virus when he dragged Hanson’s bleeding, dead body across the graves in the cemetery, then burying Hanson with Willie? And would he have avoided all this trouble by simply staying home tonight?The thump of the footsteps had now reached the third floor.Morton’s thoughts grew incoherent through fear. Maybe I can apologize to Willie too. Sorry that I shot you, Willie. But I let you off easy compared to Hanson. Sorry, Willie. But what about the others? I don’t know them. What did I do to get them pissed? What the hell do I say? Sorry I didn’t come to your funerals?Then Morton listened as the footsteps came to the room’s door. He stopped thinking. Even stopped breathing when he heard a faint creak of the door’s hinges as it opened. The footsteps were louder now as they approached the closet door. There was the sound of the doorknob turning. The trembling Morton sat and stared at the darkness before him. He did not want to face what was about to open the closet door. But there was no escape. He felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. Several trucks that were about to run him down in the middle of the road. One after the other.
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