5. Medlab

“Come in and shut the door behind you.”

 Dr. Simon Matthews stood in the corner of the room. He usually wore glasses. He wasn’t wearing them now.

 Al Simpson sat down. The room was cramped and packed with supplies. There was a large monitor on the far wall.

 “I’m sure you’ve heard by now about Russ Jorden” Matthews said, before adding “about him coming back with an organism of some kind attached to his face.”

 Simpson nodded. “I couldn’t believe it was real. Part of me still doesn’t.” He paused and looked up at the doctor. “From what I understand though, the thing fell off and died before it did any real damage to him. It’s floating in stasis and he’s back on light duty in the motor pool. Has that situation changed?”

 Matthews didn’t respond but brought up an image on the screen. The individual in it had been brutalized so savagely that it wasn’t immediately clear who it was.

 “Is that…”

 “Jorden, yes.” He punched a command and the image flipped to a medical report. Simpson was grateful for the change.

 “Found in the service corridor. He spasmed so hard that he broke his own back. The capillaries in his eyeballs ruptured and he tore every single ligament in his neck.”

 “Jesus. All of this from a seizure? An allergic reaction? Did he have a condition or did it infect him with some kind of...alien virus? Is he contagious??” Simpson’s head began to spin. An outbreak of an unknown disease would absolutely go on official record. It was a matter of policy.

 “There’s more.” Matthews said, and the screen changed again. This time, to a close-up of a chest wound.

 Simpson thought he might be sick. “So, he was murdered then. Shot at close range.” A small sense of relief, he was ashamed to say, had started to bloom in the far recesses of his mind. “But…why would anyone…”

 Matthews cut him off. “Murdered, yes, in a sense. More like killed. Take a closer look at the wound. His ribcage is splayed out. Whatever did this to him came from inside his chest. We examined the chest cavity. It was torn apart. Hollowed out from the inside like something was feeding on him. Half of his organs were missing and the others were shredded beyond any hope of repair.” He swallowed and turned the display off.

 “The creature must have implanted something in his chest, which tore its way out of him with a shocking level of violence.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “And now it’s loose. We need to get ahead of this thing before it spirals. Call a meeting.”

 Simpson nodded slowly and got up to leave. “Keep me apprised of any developments in the meantime. ”