Their driver turned out to be none other than Dan, garbed in his neon green hazmat suit.

  “Have you been wearing that all day?” Leah asked, sliding into a seat next to May.

  “Nah, I just threw it on again when they sent me to pick you up,” he said. “Man, I can’t imagine if they made me wear this all day. That would be the worst.”

  “Not as bad as you driving us around without it,” Noah said lightly.

  “You haven’t worn one of these things. I wouldn’t be so sure,” Dan laughed. “Though to be honest, it doesn’t feel as hot as it was earlier, thank goodness.”

  Noah’s head shot up. “Would you say you’re feeling numb?”

  Dan shrugged carelessly. “Uh, no. Why?”

  “It’s one of our symptoms.”

  Noah could see the moment their driver realized what that meant.

  “Wait one second,” Dan said slowly, swiveling in his seat to peer at them through the plastic screen of the hazmat suit. “That campus announcement earlier, with the warning about symptoms and whatnot…”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of our bad,” Brian said.

  “Woah,” Dan said. “Makes me glad I have this thing on after all.” He wiggled his gloved fingers.

  “Hey,” May said suddenly. “I feel kind of weird.” She looked around, seeming unsure of what exactly was wrong. She rubbed her arm unconsciously, then looked down in surprise. “Uh, guys, look at this,” she said quietly, turning slightly in her seat with her sleeve pulled up to give them a view of her shoulder.

  They all craned their heads to look.

  “Well, holy crap,” Brian said. “That was fast.”

  May prodded at the spot where Dr. Jansen had cut her arm, but the mark had nearly disappeared. A faint pale line was all that remained of the wound. She lifted her leg and they saw the same had occurred on her calf.

  “The spots feel warm,” she said in surprise. “That’s the first thing I’ve felt all day.”

  “No way,” Brian said. “Is this the first sign of our return to normal?”

  “It’s already starting to cool down,” May said glumly. “So probably not.”

  “How would that even work, anyways?” Leah asked. “Is it even possible for us to go back to normal now that so much of our regular vital functions have been dead for so long?”

  Noah nodded with a frown. “This is pretty much worst case, but what if the illness is the only thing keeping us alive, somehow? And when we don’t have it anymore, we just die like we normally would have without a pulse?”

  “You’re saying that we need the sickness now,” Brian said, not seeming fond of the idea at all. “That our only two options are to die or to be stuck like this forever. I’m not liking the lack of a ‘continue life as normal’ alternative.”

  “Yeah, but who knows. That’s just my theory,” Noah said.

  Brian shuddered. “I hope you’re wrong.”

  “I’m hungry,” May said.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Good luck with that,” Brian said. “Food tastes terrible right now.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” May said, frowning.

  “You just healed two wounds within the span of a few minutes,” Leah pointed out. “That’s kind of incredible. Maybe that’s why you’re hungry.”

  “Hey, that’s right,” Brian said. “Damn. Now I wish another one of us took the crazy doctor up on her offer. We could compare how we felt.”

  “We could do it ourselves,” Leah said.

  They all looked at her, and she shrugged. “It was just a suggestion. We don’t have to, obviously.”

  “No, it’s not a bad idea,” Brian said. “Especially if there’s decent evidence that we’ll immediately heal from it anyways. Which is rather awesome, by the way. I know it could randomly kill us at any moment, but now that I’m thinking about it, I’m starting to come around on this whole sickness thing.”

  Noah glanced between them. “You do realize how insane it sounds when you say you don’t mind the sickness that’s getting you to purposefully wound yourself.”

  “Hey, does it really count as a ‘wound’ when it’s totally painless and heals within minutes?”

  “Yes, it does. I’ll pass on this group activity.”

  “Eh, suit yourself,” Leah shrugged. “We only really need one of us to do it to see what happens.”

  Brian glanced at her. “Hey, how do you suppose we should go about the DIY method?”

  “There’s probably a knife in the kitchen that would do the job,” Leah said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hey, Dan, I don’t suppose you have a pocket knife on you?”

  “I think I’ll keep myself out of this project of yours,” Dan said.

  “Aw, don’t worry, it’s doctor-approved,” Brian said.

  “Psycho-doctor approved,” Leah said under her breath.

  “She’s scared,” May said. “She doesn’t know what’s happening to her. Or to us.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay for her to throw us into the wringer,” Leah said heatedly. “Those scientists at Insight Labs have been cracked down on a dozen times for breaking all sorts of safety laws. They keep saying they’ve fixed themselves up to standard, and then they’re in the news next week for lobotomizing somebody.”

  Dan nodded from the front seat. “You’d do well to stay far- WOAH!”

  He slammed on the brakes, making the van screech in protest of the sudden deceleration. There was a dull thump on the windshield. Everyone in the vehicle was thrown forward.

  Noah peeled himself off the chair in front of him and looked out the windows, trying to see why they had stopped.

  “I couldn’t even see them until they stepped right out in front of the van,” Dan said dazedly.

  “What? A person? Dan! Did you just run over a student?” Leah demanded.

  “I- I think I did,” he stammered, throwing the door open and rushing out onto the road.

  Noah exchanged wide-eyed looks with his friends.

  “We weren’t moving too quickly,” Brian said hopefully. “Right?”

  They exited the van, curious yet apprehensive of what they would find.

  Noah’s heart sank as he rounded the vehicle. Dan was standing over a twisted form draped over the curb. There were pavement burns across the victim’s forearms, face, and chest, visible through his torn Oakridge T-shirt. His left leg looked terribly misaligned. The only positive sign was the lack of spilled blood.

  There were a couple other people nearby on the sidewalk, looking at the scene with transfixed horror.

  “One of you needs to call an ambulance,” Dan yelled at the bystanders, then turned to Noah and his friends peeking around the corner of the van. “Get over here and test his pulse. I have too many layers on to do it properly.”

  “We won’t be able to, we’ve got no sense of touch,” Noah said quickly.

  Dan blinked. “Oh, right.” He looked around, noticing that nobody was on the phone, and pointed at the closest person. “You. Call campus safety right now.”

  The girl looked startled and glanced around her, presumably hoping he was pointing at someone else, but she finally nodded and got her phone out.

  Leaving her to it, Dan knelt beside the injured student and flicked a lever on each of his cuffs that let him pull off his outer gloves. He then peeled off a second pair of gloves and gently raised the guy’s wrist, pressing his fingers firmly against it. Noah leaned forward as he waited for Dan’s verdict.

  “I don’t feel a pulse,” Dan said eventually, letting the wrist drop. He rubbed his eyes and stood up miserably.

  The driver began to walk back over to them. Before he could take more than two steps, the body laying behind him suddenly lurched, its hand shooting out to grasp his ankle.

  “Woah!” Dan yelped, toppling to the ground. He looked behind him to see the student’s head lifted to stare right back at him.

  “What? He’s not dead!” Brian said, stepping closer, only to recoil as the student hauled himself forward and clamped his jaw onto Dan’s leg.