Bio War 4 by Fishgullet Mf, mc, sf

I spent the next day casting about for information, particularly
on the the little chemical factory. It turned out I was wrong,
there were two factories owned by the same global chemical firm -
one that churned out basic chemical compounds that are necessary
for sophisticated research and a glass plant that manufactured
the standardized beakers, pipes, stopcocks, and containers for
laboratories.

The two soldiers at the gate were not about to let me in but we
spent some time shooting the bull. I learned that they had not
heard from their sargeant in four days and although they were
still picking up some reception on their military bandwidth, the
amount of traffic had dropped precipitously. We shared a couple
of smokes as we worried over the lack of communication, foul
tasting IM's (Instant Meals), and the usual snafu's of army life.
We all tried our cell phones and found reception but no dial
tone. I was pretty sure that the rest of the world was fubar
(fucked up beyond all recognition) at this point.

I met Marissa in the driveway coming home late from school. She
had been crying. We found Tara and sat on the porch as the
afternoon sun filtered in. Anna met up with Marissa at lunch and
told her that her daddy thought we were the devil's tool, that we
had been sent to destroy their town and that he was going to save
the good folks of Lewiston from evil.

"We aren't evil, are we?" sobbed Marissa. we comforted her and
took her inside. I fumed and paced; I hated that little bastard
and I wanted to crush every bone in his body. Tara took one look
at my face and backed away. It was enough to purge my anger and
start me thinking more clearly.

"How do I break this guy?" I asked out loud. Tara wanted me to
shoot him and if not that, then slit his throat. Her bloodlust
surprised me and sent me in a different direction as I tried to
explain why we couldn't use violence this time. Then it struck me
that I was aiming for the wrong target - I needed to destroy his
life, not his body. An evil smile came to my lips because what I
had in mind was not a new game to me.

"What's today?" I demanded.

"Thursday."

I considered my options. "What's at the church on Thurday
nights?"

Tara went to the kitchen and brought out a flyer that the
charming family had left yesterday. Thurday evenings was Women's
Bible study with the pastor's wife. Perfect. I told Tara to get
dressed and go to Bible class, to observe the woman in charge.
There was nothing at the church I needed, I just wanted Tara out
of the way.

After Tara left, I used Alex's magic words to suppress Marissa
and then dressed her in a mini skirt and a button-up shirt, no
bra. Even in a reduced state she was thrilled to have me touch
her and her arousal seemed to fill the room. My cock was as
bloated as her nipples but I stopped myself from rubbing either.
Marissa's nipples showed clearly through the thin material,
lighter than her sister's and bigger. I dropped her consciousness
down and gave her new instructions, then ratcheted her back up.
We had played this game before but this time I needed her to do
more.

I walked her over to the Greeley house and sent Marissa to the
front door. She rang and Horace answered the door, only to invite
her in. I knew Anna was with her mother at church and Horace was
alone. Marissa did her thing that she did so well with me and
soon a light went on upstairs. I stealthily made my way in and up
the stairs to the doorway from which the voices emerged. I
waited. That sonofabitch thought he could come in my house and
sell me a snow job; I had figured out his dirty little secret in
one afternoon - the good pastor got a hardon for young girls.

"Oh Mr. Greeley, what a nice penis you have!" Marissa exclaimed
with great drama. I swung in silently and captured on digital an
original set of protraits: my sweet Marissa with her blouse
unbuttoned was kneeling before the good Pastor Greeley with a
scrawny erection in her hand. His penis was kind of small and
pathetic, which I concluded explained a lot.

"Well my dear," I announced my presence with great fanfare,
"you've certainly taken the devil by the horn!"

Greeley tried to jump away but my sweet Marissa had practiced for
days on grabbing and holding a perp's precious jewels and she
held him in place. He went to swat her and that was when I
stepped forward and seized his wrist. He cried out in pain as I
applied pressure.

I told him that hypocrisy was a sin, that adultery was a sin, and
that taking a young girl's innocence was a worse sin. I pointed
out that he was in league with the devil and that I would pray
for him. I showed him the screen on the camera and told him that
the day of judgement and retribution had come as well. I watched
with silent pleasure as the sweat broke out on his forehead.
Marissa and I both let go and left poor Horace standing
slackjawed with his pants around his ankles.

Saturday night Horace hung himself from the chandelier hook in
his dining room.

But I am getting ahead of myself. The police chief came by on
Friday morning. I was suffering from the second injection of IQ
serum, everything tasted bad on the tongue. I invited him in for
a cup of coffee and James appreciated the neighborly gesture. He
also got an eyeful of Tara when she bent over to pick up the
sponge she dropped, probably on purpose, and James saw that she
wasn't wearing any underwear under her short skirt. He
appreciated that as well, but then so did I.

He not only knew that I had spoken with the soldiers guarding the
factory, but that they had still not heard any word. We talked
around and about until he came to my initial suggestion. The
mayor agreed and the town council agreed it was a good idea and
since it was my idea, perhaps I knew best how to implement it.
That afternoon we raided the county depot at the edge of town and
blocked off the county road at both ends with concrete barriers.
We convinced the soldiers to split up and each pair take one set
of road blocks along with a couple of locals. The food basket
clinched the argument.

Next we went to the farmers in the valley with a map in hand.
They agreed to plow a twelve foot no-man's land around the
perimeter of the town and its fields. It took all weekend to plow
and stamp down the dirt. We got plenty of volunteers to walk the
length of the perimeter looking for footprints, pawprints,
monsterprints, or anything else that could threaten us.

James and I also agreed to reconnoiter the county and find what
was happening in the greater world. On Monday we drove to the
county seat in his SUV. As we entered town, we were greeted with
silence; we saw no one. James decided that stopping by a
colleague's house would be a good first stop. We found the
skeletons of the husband, wife and three children in their
bedrooms, still clothed. The dog's bones were by the fireplace.
There was neither the sign of rotting, putrefying flesh nor the
smell of it. The entire town seemed to have succumbed for we
could not find a living person or animal. We called it "The
Leprosy Plague" because their flesh had just melted away. We
stopped again only to collect the newspapers, which were dated
last week.

James was curious about another small town, closer to our own,
but down a different road. We approached from the north but again
didn't see anyone. We pulled into the center of town, which was a
wide street with a small strip of green grass down the middle and
buildings on either side. With my M-22 in hand, I made my way to
the first door, a storefront. Inside I found human bones behind
the counter, but they were in a jumbled pile. I picked up femur
and dropped it in disgust when I saw the tooth and scrape marks
along its length.

A sudden breeze brought a swamp-like stench to my nostrils. A
slight shuffle to my right sent me diving over the bones and
bringing my rifle to bear. I faced a toothsome toad-like face on
a scaled body, which let out a croaking hiss as it launched
itself at me. I fired half a clip into that monstrosity and
kicked its still moving face with my boot. I expected my kick to
break bone but instead I felt a throbbing up to my hip socket;
just how thick was that skull?

I clambered over its roughened body and ran for the SUV. I called
out for James and heard his shotgun blast just on the other side.
I sighted at least six of the same creatures charging him and let
loose the rest of the clip. That gave them a moment's pause and
James hightailed it to the vehicle. He leapt in, started the
motor and gunned the engine. We burned rubber but as I looked
behind us, several more had passed their dead cousins and were in
hot pursuit on four thick legs. They ran like horses or cats and
their faces still reminded me of frogs; I couldn't for the life
of me figure out what their original form was. They ate meat
though and we were on the menu.

We sped past the buildings and the road eased to the left. James
slammed on the breaks before we hit the downed tree that blocked
the road. He threw the truck in reverse and swung the nose left
to face an open field of aloe plants. The uglies were only fifty
feet behind us when James revved the engine and ran the truck
into the field. We made it about a quarter of the way across when
the tires sunk into the soft soil.

I loaded a fresh clip in my rifle, the rest in my pocket and
climbed onto the roof to get a better shot. The uglies charged
into the field after us and I raised my rifle to take aim. I held
the trigger until they got closer when I was shaken by the most
hideous scream I had ever heard. The plants were alive, their
leaves. The plants were wrapping their long leaves around their
grotesque bodies and tearing gouges of flesh from their limbs.
The creatures fought back with their their front paws but
whatever they touched ripped more flesh from their bodies. For
ten minutes we watched in fascination as the plants ripped, tore
and digested their flesh. In the end only the creatures' bones
marked their bloody demise.

I should have made the connection that aloe does not grow this
far north. To miss such a detail could have been another gruesome
death. Today we call them vampire plants; everyone is trained to
recognize them along with a dozen other vicious, nasty surprises.
They have to be burned with fire and the roots pulled.

James put the SUV in gear to gently dislodge the tires and then
carefully threaded a path to the asphalt road that he promised
led home. At the roadblock, we were doused with an antigen wash
and the SUV was left for further cleansing.

How did Alex know about Lewiston? I chewed that one over as I sat
in the back seat of a sedan on the way up the mountain. Despite
the danger to myself, it was time for the third injection. I
needed more brain power; brute force, even bio induced muscles,
were of little advantage in this landscape.
