Ozzie coughed dryly as the last drop of bile trickled out of his throat and spat out into the toilet bowl. Making sure his stomach had done enough flip-flops, he slowly pushed himself up onto his feet with the edge of the bowl to support his weight. Drix helped him a little by carrying him by the armpits.
“I…I dunno…” Ozzie replied hoarsely, the acidic bile leaving a burning feeling in his throat. “Maybe…”
“Lemme check,” Drix offered as he sat Ozzie onto the toilet bowl after putting the lid on. He raised his shirt and examined his midsection. Sure enough, there was a purplish-blue round blob the size of a ping-pong ball nestled comfortably right on the spot. Ozzie could tell by the cold pill’s facial expression upon seeing the blob that their suspicions were confirmed.
“Spit,” Ozzie cursed. “And it had to happen today of all days.”
As you can tell, it was the day of Thrax’s execution where he would be taken down to the firing range of the army barracks where the city council, the mayor and selected citizens of Jackson County—Mr. Pheo included—would be there to witness the event, while the rest of the city would watch it live through television. Ozzie was at first advised against attending the execution, but the cell insisted on going, saying that if his Master had to go, he should be the last person to see sending him off. The execution was scheduled roughly an hour before Jackson’s next bowel movement, but half an hour before the execution time when they were about to make their move to the army barracks from home, Ozzie was seen whizzing past everybody, making a direct beeline to the nearest bathroom and puking his guts out.
“Well, he is a virus,” Drix stated as he gave a glass of water to Ozzie for him to gargle the aftertaste off his mouth. “His genetics might breed faster than when it takes about a week for a regular cell to conceive.”
Ozzie sighed as he laid his hand over his still flat belly, caressing it unconsciously. He had told Thrax that he would be glad to carry his child, but he didn’t think it would be that soon.
“Are you sure you want to go to the execution now that you’re like this?” Drix asked worriedly.
“Watcha talkin’ about?” Ozzie replied incredulously. “Of course I do! This is something Thrax must know! He’s gotta know that even when he’s gone, part of him is still with me, that his legacy will live on.”
“Legacy?” Drix eyed him warningly. “You’re not thinking of asking a child to continue what he couldn’t finish, are you?”
“Well, no, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Ozzie backed away a little at the look Drix gave him. “I just…well, I just want the kid to remember his or her father, is all, so that Thrax would not be forgotten just like that, and that whatever Thrax did, I want the kid to be proud of his or her father, not ashamed.”
“Jones, you understand that you are putting yourself in a dangerous position, not to mention Mr. Pheo and his family will be dragged into this as well. You are carrying a virus’ spawn, and knowing Mr. Pheo, he would go to the ends of Jackson to protect you from the advances of the army barracks and the city council, and it’ll probably cost him and his family’s life. Are you sure you want to go through this?”
“I didn’t ask for Mr. Pheo’s pity,” Ozzie frowned as he got up and composed himself, washing his face and smoothing his hair. “Yes, he gave me a job, took me in to his home, and I’m grateful for that, but honestly speaking, I’ve never asked for it.”
“Jones, please reconsider. It’s a virus’ spawn we’re talking about…”
“Why do you always call me ‘Jones’ like some stranger?” Ozzie turned to him suddenly, glaring at him. “You only seem to call me ‘Ozzie’ whenever you’re sorry about me or something. How long have we been friends, Drips? What does it take for you to call me by my first name without making it like some sort of business transaction? And I’d appreciate it if you don’t call the kid ‘a virus’ spawn’. It’s a kid, not a disease, figuratively speaking. And I don’t plan to stay here much longer anyway, so you don’t have to worry your cherry ass about Mr. Pheo’s wellbeing.”
“What do you mean by that?” Drix asked, surprised at Ozzie’s last statement.
“Can we just go now?” Ozzie sighed and straightened his collar, deliberately changing the subject. “I don’t want Mr. Pheo suddenly poking his nose through the door asking how I’m doing and all that spit.”
Drix frowned and followed after him. Mr. Pheo, as expected, asked about him, but Ozzie tucked his shirt in to cover his belly and waved his concern away, smiling as casually as he could as he passed it as nervousness over the event, still insisting on going despite Mr. Pheo advising him against it. Drix, before Ozzie got into the car, took the cell’s shoulder whispered into his ear persistently.
“You’re still gonna explain what you meant by those words later, Ozzie.”
--:--
Everyone held their breath as the handcuffed Thrax was brought out and forward to the firing range. Ozzie almost forgot how to breathe as he saw the state his beloved Master was in. His eyes were even more sunken in than the last time he saw him, and his dreads were in a matted mess. His face and body was covered with old and fresh wounds and lesions, the new ones probably because he put up a struggle before being brought here. His killer claw was no longer encased in the huge heavy machine, but it was still covered with the same freezing agent Drix shot him back then when they were still in Frank and were still enemies. He was still half naked with the same black pants on, and the cell could see that the chest and stomach area was the parts that sustained the most injuries. He was still resisting a little when he was brought to the center of the firing range, but as soon as he caught sight of Ozzie standing there looking at him sadly, he stopped struggling and slouched a little, finally accepting his fate.
“Any last words or requests, virus, before your execution?” the prison warden asked as he stepped up to Thrax once he was within the designated spot of the firing range.
“As a matter of fact, yes. I want you to remove my handcuffs,” Thrax replied, and when his captors gave him a warning look and the warden was in alert mode, he rolled his eyes and sighed, “I just want to give my baby one last hug. Is that so much for a dying man to ask, or are you backing out on your offer?”
After eyeing Thrax warily, looking to see any signs of foul play, the prison warden found none and gave the green light for the virus’ captors to undo his handcuffs. While Thrax massaged his wrists to bring the blood flow back in his hands, the prison warden gave eye-contact to Mr. Pheo, gesturing him to let Ozzie come up and give the virus his last request. Almost hurriedly, the cell came up to the virus and gave him a bear hug, with Thrax reciprocating the gesture.
“You look awful,” Ozzie whispered bitterly, his voice choked. “What have they done to you?”
“Not as bad as what they are going to do to me later, baby,” Thrax replied just as softly. “But at least it’ll be quick.”
“Why…? Why does it have to come down to this, Thrax? Why?”
“I don’t know, baby. It’s just how it is, I suppose, for a virus like me.”
Thrax held him close and tilted the cell’s head so that he was looking up at him. Ozzie knew every little gesture his beloved Master made by now. Closing his eyes and going on tip toes, not caring about the crowd before him, he shared a deep, passionate kiss with him, igniting a fire deep within him that he was certain will never go out as long as he lived. He wished this moment would stand still and last forever, but unfortunately it was just wishful thinking.
“Alright, boys. Time’s up.”
Ozzie reluctantly let go of his oral hold on his Master’s lips at the tap of his shoulder by the prison warden. For a second, he tiptoed again and whispered at Thrax’s ear while putting the virus’ hand secretly on his midsection.
“I’m pregnant.”
Thrax widened his eyes in shock at upon hearing that. He looked at Ozzie, trying to see if there was any way that he was tricking him or just trying to make him happy, but there was no trace of deceit in him. In fact, before he was pulled away from the virus impatiently by the prison warden to taken back into Mr. Pheo’s care, Ozzie nodded, confirming his claims and had his hand briefly caressing his still flat belly for good measure. As the soldier cells re-cuffed Thrax, his yellow orbs never left the cell’s black ones, but they soon softened for a split second into a sort of resigned pride and joy knowing that at least his beloved pet will not be alone in this world without him.
Ozzie reflexively felt like going forward but was held back by Mr. Pheo as the firing squad marched in and stood in place. He watched helplessly as the soldier cells made Thrax stand properly on his assigned target spot while the firing squad held their shotguns close to their hip. They wanted to blindfold Thrax but Thrax shook his head, refusing it because he wanted to keep Ozzie in sight until his last breath.
“Will it hurt him?” Ozzie whimpered, trying to hold back his tears and be strong in front of his beloved.
“The gun is a refined version of the usual plasma gun cops use,” Mr. Pheo replied as soothingly as he could. “The plasma is army barrack quality that is of nano-cellular in nature, and they act very fast to disintegrate a person’s shot area fatally. He won’t feel a thing.”
Ozzie nodded, not sure whether to feel dread because Thrax was going to die and there was no turning back or to feel relief because Thrax would not suffer through this.
The prison warden looked at his watch and faced the crowd, announcing the dreaded sentencing.
“By the power invested in me by the honourable mayor and the respectable city council, the death sentence of Thrax Roja the virus for crimes against Jackson County is nigh!”
Ozzie’s heart almost skipped a beat. Roja? Thrax Roja? That was his full name? All his days being with the virus, he had never heard of his full name. He almost felt thankful that the prison warden said it for he was wondering what sort of last name he should give their child.
“Ready…!”
The firing squad brought up their shotguns to their shoulder level at the ready. Ozzie and Thrax’s gaze locked in each other, knowing that this was it.
“Aim…!”
Ozzie and Thrax seemed to hold their breaths, their gaze never left its hold as the firing squad aimed their shotguns at Thrax.
“Fi—”
A massive tremor, almost like a Level 6 earthquake, suddenly shook the whole building, stopping the prison warden in mid-sentence. Everyone was forced headlong to the ground or fall on their asses over the tremors. Ozzie almost fell but was caught by Drix, possibly to instinctively save him from miscarriage. Before they even realize what was going on or get back on their feet, another tremor came in a split second and suddenly something that looked like a shard pierced through the atmosphere, landing onto the prison warden and some of the members of the firing squad, slicing them in two. The wave impact caused when the shard slammed in forced Thrax and the soldier cells who handcuffed him to be pushed backwards and further away, ramming against the wall of the firing range and almost bruising his back.
“What in the name of Jack is going on here?!” the mayor exclaimed in the midst of the chaos.
“I need answers, stat!” one of the soldiers around picked up his walkie-talkie and demanded whoever was on the other line to explain the situation, while the other remaining soldiers helped to direct the crowd out of the firing range. The reply came in a frantic static.
“Jack…in an…cident…Car…ran off…major inju…Lotsa parts…dama…”
“You’re breaking up here, soldier! What the heck is going on there?!”
“Jack…dead…Ja…dead…!!”
As soon as the static concluded, another catastrophe ensued. The shard, which later at a second glance revealed to be glass, caused a rip through the atmosphere and as all wound occur, blood started flowing out and along with it, the current started sucking everything within its proximity. Some managed to make it out of the vicinity but the rest were clinging onto dear lives not to be taken in by the strong current. Most of them weren’t so lucky in holding on.
“Holy spit!” Ozzie, who made it out of the firing range with Drix and Mr. Pheo, exclaimed. “My childhood nightmare’s happening again!”
“We have to get out of here, Jones,” Drix said as he escorted Ozzie and Mr. Pheo to the limo. “Jack knows when the strength of the current would reach here. We have to get as far away from here as possible.”
“Wait! Where’s Thrax?! Where’s my Master??” Ozzie cried as he peeked through the entrance fence (where the current did not reach) to see him groaning as he tried to get up. Being behind the shard of glass, he was shielded from the strong current everyone else was fighting against, but at the same time he was still vulnerable to the current flowing from the other side of the shard he was shielded, and it was picking up speed. Ozzie wanted to go in but was quickly pulled back by the cold pill.
“Jones, where do you think you’re going?!” Drix exclaimed in shocked disbelief.
“I gotta go to Thrax! I gotta save him!”
“Are you out of your mind, Jones? Do you want to get yourself killed? There’s nothing you can do! You can’t help him anymore! We have got to get out of here!”
“No! I’m not gonna leave Thrax out there to die! This is my chance! I gotta save him!”
“It’s too dangerous! You’ll be dragged by the current and Jack knows what’s going to happen to you outside there!”
“I’ve been exposed to the atmosphere longer than you got into that lab dish college of yours, and I’ve leapt into a few bodies to boot! What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?! The moment Thrax steps outside there, there’ll be medics all over the place wiping Jackson down and disinfecting him and stuff, and Thrax would be taken down by them! He will die one way or another and I am not going to let either of that happen!!”
“You’ve got a child in you! Sober up a little and think about it for a split second and don’t tell me you’re…”
“Let him go, Drixenol.”
Drix turned to Mr. Pheo in disbelief as he stopped struggling with Ozzie, but still holding the cell back in a death grip. The melanin cell gave him that familiar fatherly smile when the cold pill first met him and chuckled at Drix’s incredulous facial expression.
“Osmosis is right, Drixenol. This is his only chance,” Mr. Pheo gave him the nice but firm look to stop Drix from retaliation. “We promised Osmosis that we would do our best to help Thrax but we didn’t fulfill that promise. Now that Jackson has indirectly given us a second chance to fix this, to save Thrax’s life when we could not, so why waste it? Admit it, Drixenol, you know that deep down inside you, you believe Osmosis and Thrax deserve each other, and the child they willingly created is your proof. If this catastrophe is not a sign from Jackson, what is?”
Drix furrowed his brow, still hesitant as he looked at Ozzie’s frantic face as the cell looked up at him with pleading teary eyes, then at Thrax who was struggling to fight against the current while getting to the nearest and safest spot he could get to away from the pull of the current—kicking the soldier cells that held him captive away in the process—and then back at Drix again.
“If the message from the walkie-talkie is true, then it won’t be long until we go down with him anyway. Let Osmosis go, Drix. I know it’s hard for you to accept this because it’s been so long since you got back a friend that you last thought dead, but Osmosis is still his own person with his own life to live and his own choices to make. You must respect that.”
“Please, Drips…” Ozzie begged, squeezing the cold pill’s arm that held him. Drix’s heart ached seeing his friend with that forlorn look.
“If it makes you feel any better, leave with him,” Mr. Pheo said suddenly. “I relieve you of your bodyguard duties, Drixenol. Go with him.”
“But…But what about you, Mr. Pheo?” Drix asked worriedly.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll hold out. I know for a fact that Jackson signed up as an organ donor. We’ll just leap into whatever good organ parts are left of Jackson to be transplanted in. Who knows? We might meet again.”
“But Jackson was quarantined because of Thrax, remember? He will never be a good enough candidate to make it even to the donor’s list because of that one medical record.”
“He’s right, Mr. Pheo,” Ozzie agreed. “Come with us.”
“Don’t be brash, Osmosis,” Mr. Pheo shook his head. “I’m not like either of you. I will coagulate just like everyone else out there. Besides, my family is here. If they’re going down with Jackson, I shall go down with them.”
“M…Mr. Pheo…” Drix looked sadly at Mr. Pheo so readily resigned to his fate.
“I’ll be fine. Go now, Osmosis. Your beloved is waiting.”
Ozzie went quickly to Mr. Pheo and gave him a hug and a gratuitous kiss on the melanin cell’s cheek.
“Thank you, Mr. Pheo, for everything.”
“You really make me wish I wasn’t married, Osmosis,” Mr. Pheo chuckled and kissed him back on the forehead. “You take care of him now, Drixenol, and the child within him.”
“I will, sir,” Drix saluted before following behind Ozzie as the cell made a run for it to the entrance and into the firing range. As Mr. Pheo entered the car, he saw Kiaran seated on the floor of the car, yapping with questioning eyes as if asking where his Master was.
“Oh, I almost forgot about you,” Mr. Pheo said as he opened the door again. “Your Master is in there. Go find him and be careful.”
“Should we wait for them, sir?” the driver asked worriedly as Kiaran leapt excitedly out of the car and headed to the direction of the firing range.
“No. It’s OK. I let them go. They’re on their own now. Let’s go home and find the missus and the kids.”
While the limo drove away, with Mr. Pheo giving one last look at the firing range, Ozzie and Drix were inside, holding onto whatever was sturdy enough and struggling to make their way towards Thrax’s direction. A distant yapping made Ozzie stop in his tracks.
“Kiaran?!” Ozzie exclaimed as he turned to the direction of the yapping. Sure enough, there was the little puppy trying to reach its Master while fighting the current.
“I’ll handle this!” Drix said as he took out a black capsule from his chest plate and stuffed into his cannon. Aiming at Kiaran, he shot at it, revealing a tar-like substance that expanded and spread out like a huge net, covering the puppy. The net stuck onto Kiaran like glue and with the help of Ozzie, Drix pulled the puppy to safety by their side. Ozzie peeled the sticky net off the puppy and hugged it, apologizing to the puppy, which was licking him and wagging its tail happily, for forgetting about it and leaving it behind.
“Good boy, Kia. You’re a good boy. I’m so sorry I forgot about you,” Ozzie said between licks, then looked at Drix, “I gotta hand it to you, Drips. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
“Only from the finest labs Jackson can provide,” Drix winked proudly as he showed off some muscle. “We can’t carry it around. It’ll hold us up. Here, put it inside my chest plate. We’ll take it out once everything’s settled.”
“Alright,” Ozzie replied. As soon as Drix opened his chest plate, Ozzie put the whining puppy inside a corner among the capsules. “Stay, Kia. Stay and be a good boy, OK? I promise you’ll be out soon.”
Kiaran whined in protest for a while, but soon settled down where he was. Ozzie patted its head before Drix closed his chest plate to carry on with their arduous journey. A few things whizzed past their heads and they had to dodge a few people who actually flew past them—knowing that they couldn’t help them because their hands were full and that they might get pulled along to the current if they did—but they carried on. There were a few close calls in which the thing they were grabbing on for support was too flimsy or couldn’t fight against the pull of the current, but with each other’s help they managed to have their feet on solid ground, watching helplessly at the others who suffered the fate of many others who had been sucked out of Jackson’s body throughout the city’s lifetime, just like what happened to Ozzie’s family when he was 12.
After what felt like forever, they were finally near where Thrax was. Ozzie spared no time in rushing towards the virus and glomp him like there was no tomorrow. Thrax was taken by surprise at first, unable to believe for a moment that the love of his life was back in his arms, but once the shock settled down, he hugged the cell back and kissed him passionately, literally making out in front of the awkward cold pill.
“Alright, you guys. Get a room.”
Ozzie broke the kiss and grinned sheepishly before looking around, saying, “We gotta get you outta those cuffs, Thrax.”
“Here,” Thrax handed him a plasma gun. “Swiped that from one of the soldier buggers before I kicked him off me just now.”
Ozzie nodded and took the gun, aiming the mouthpiece at the chain of the handcuffs and blasted away. Thrax grinned in satisfaction once the chain broke and slammed his frozen hand against the wall, shattering the ice and releasing his killer claw free from the cold, numbing pain. He flexed his fingers a little to get the blood flowing and the feeling back before activating his killer claw, elongating it to burn off the cuffs around his wrists. They melted into putty in no time and virus let out a long satisfied laugh.
“Big Daddy Thrax is back, baby! Yeah!”
“Someone’s definitely gonna be a big daddy,” Ozzie grinned, his hand on his still flat belly, “in more ways than one.”
“Baby, you tryin’ to turn me on?” Thrax chuckled huskily as he held Ozzie by the waist with one hand and touching the cell’s belly with the other, looking at the cell seductively.
“As much as I want to, we can’t. We’ve got a situation here.”
“He’s right,” Drix agreed as he pointed to the direction of the shard. “The current is starting to get stronger on our side and the blood is starting to clot around the wound. If it’s true that Jackson’s dead, we’ll be trapped in here.”
“Well, let’s not wait,” Thrax said as he carried Ozzie bridal style. “We gotta make a run for it.”
“To where? There’s nowhere to go,” Ozzie said worriedly.
Thrax replied by jerking his head towards the wound.
“You mean you wanna leave the city? Go towards the current we’ve been struggling not to get caught in and get thrown out there to the atmosphere?!” Drix exclaimed, his eyes couldn’t go any wider.
“Congratulations, cold pill. You just earned an A in spotting the obvious,” Thrax replied sarcastically, raising an un-amused brow.
“Have you any idea what’s out there?! Dead or alive, Jackson is still bound to be attended by medics! He’d probably is back in quarantine right now, getting ready to be sprayed and hosed down with disinfectant!”
“Your point being?”
“You do realize you are a virus and Jones is a partially infected cell. Thanks to you, virus, you caused Jackson to go into quarantine mode! That kind of atmosphere will kill the both of you! I may be a cold pill and immune to quarantine environments but what about you guys?”
“I think he’s got a point there, Thrax,” Ozzie replied. “What if Jackson is already taken into quarantine? We might never get out into the open even if we survive the environment.”
“How can you be sure Jackson is already in quarantine?” Thrax challenged. “He could still be wherever he is and the medics are not here yet, and maybe if we waste time blabbering about the what-ifs, we’d be giving the medics a chance to get here in time and he might just be taken for quarantine now. And where have your sense of adventure and that spunk you always had in you gone to, baby?”
“Guess you tamed me,” Ozzie looked away sheepishly.
“Well, we’ll have to bring that back now, won’t we?”
So saying, Thrax, with Ozzie in his arms, made a dash towards the stronger part of the current. Drix was stunned for a moment at the virus’s sudden brashness before following after them, hollering for them to wait for him. As soon as they were within proximity of the stronger current, Thrax maneuvered his body position, holding Ozzie close to him, until the current pushed him against the glass. Drix copied him and soon, like a rewind button, the trio was sent sliding upwards along the glass until they were out of the wound and out in the open. They ended up falling down to Jackson’s chin before they rode on a random blood drop that landed them on Jackson’s shoulder. It smelt of very diluted disinfectant, meaning that Jackson was still dressed in hospital patient attire when whatever happened to him had happened.
They looked around for a while and realized the cause of the city-wide catastrophe: they were in a very mangled up police car and Jackson was at the driver’s seat, his forehead, face and neck were pierced with huge shards of glass from the windscreen and he was bleeding all over, with more wounds, mostly fatal, almost everywhere on his body, possibly because he wasn’t wearing a seat belt. His lower half of the body was trapped under the steering wheel and the area where the accelerator, brakes and clutch were supposed to be were sunken in, literally crushing Jackson’s legs. The door to the driver’s seat was also gone, thrown out about 5 feet away from the car, revealing a vast field, possibly part of a park. At the passenger seat was a woman and the backseat a teenager and a toddler, most likely Jackson’s family. They were wounded as well, but the trio was not sure whether they were alive or not.
“Let’s make a move on,” Thrax said as he got back up to his feet, his arms still cradling Ozzie possessively. The distant sounds of sirens could be heard and a torrent of voices ensued where curious passers-by and worried onlookers surrounded the accident scene. Thrax smirked smugly at Drix and said, “Told ya that the medics ain’t here yet.”
“Yeah, whatever, virus,” Drix grumbled as he did the habitual brush on his shoulder. “We should leave now.”
With the aid of Drix’s jet propulsion, the cold pill allowed the virus and the cell to hang onto him as he jumped down from the edge of Jackson’s shoulder and out of the car down to the grass below. The trio, as soon as they got on solid ground, made a run for it before the medics approached the car and started spraying disinfectant around it and all over Jackson’s dead body.
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