Independence Day Plague Read Free

followed, unresisting with tears flowing down his cheeks. “Guess we’d best take our seats," she said.
    Everyone shuffled and wound their way towards their assigned seats with a scuffing of chairs and clinking of glasses. As waiters moved between the tables with pitchers of tea and water, an Army colonel dressed in formal uniform gave a short sentimental speech. Mitchell knew Col. Forester on sight. The man was always cool and distant so the sentimentality he displayed now seemed artificial. Whenever the colonel appeared, it was to gather progress reports or to whip the workers into a new course of action. Tonight, he looked tense and paler than usual. He finished the speech with an apology for rushing off. Mitchell heard Clark mutter from a nearby table. “Too good to eat with the grunts.”
    The three men filed out of the large hall just as waiters entered and began bringing plates to each table.
    Ray Geller’s five kids, ranging from three to eleven, sat quietly at their family table in a rare act of good behavior. Mitchell grinned at the youngest one, Anita who Katie often babysat. She returned a shy smile; her cheeks now looked sunburned red. He stared as pink, blood-mixed tears trickled down in furrows, dripping onto the white ruffles on her dress.
    Mitchell gasped. A hand tugged on his gray jacket as Katie whispered, “Dad, are you okay?” He turned towards his sixteen-year-old daughter and watched as her honey colored hair turned dull and limp. He grasped her hand on his sleeve. It felt hot and tiny vessels broke under his hands, darkening her skin from red to deep purple. A dull roar filled his ears as he looked at her. Blood flowed slowly from her nose and leaked from the edges of her eyes. “Daddy?” she whispered as tiny capillaries in her skin broke one by one and purple bruising swelled on her pale cheeks.
    “ Katie,” he cried as she shook with spasms and fell into his arms. People around him began moaning and crying, their voices blending into a shrieking cacophony.
    He lowered Katie back into her chair and turned around. “Caroline, help me!” he shouted.
    “ I’m here, Jim.” Caroline spoke from behind him.
    He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.
    Caroline’s face and chest were covered in hundreds of blacken skin tears, each oozing fluid. Her eyes were sightless red orbs, and her body began to shake. Blood spilled from her open mouth. She screamed his name and fell upon him. Blood smeared across his face and hands.
    Around him, the pale celebrants turned towards him one by one, moaning in pain, some calling his name. As they moved, they too, began to shake and split open. Their features melted into horrifying masks. The voices rose into a screeching din encouraged on by the screaming of one voice…
     
     
    The scream ripped through the night and woke him. Mitchell shot up in bed, eyes wide and heart pounding in his ears. His throat felt raw and tight. He gasped for air, willing himself to slow down his breathing and the pounding ache in his chest. It took him a few moments to realize that he was not in cold North Dakota but in warm Landover, Maryland. The night breeze stirred the bedroom’s faded curtains, showing glimpses of the dark street outside. The alarm clock glowed red numbers, fifteen past five from the chipped dresser.
    His stomach lurched and he ran for the bathroom, vomiting. Afterwards, he splashed water on his face and then stared at the pale old man in the mirror. The images, half memory, half guilt-ridden nightmare played across his mind again. They were getting worse over the last few weeks. With shaking hands, he picked up the snapshots of his wife and daughter. Caroline’s soft smile seemed to beckon him while Katie, only fourteen when the picture was taken, looked impertinent to the point of cocky. “I love you.” He whispered, “I’ll join you soon.”
    The bare light bulb in the bathroom made his skin look sallow as he stared at his own brown, bloodshot