*For Mom: Some of the background information you have been waiting for.
Myra entered the media room slowly. She closed the door studying the back of it. Her eyes searched along the door’s length, stopping to rest at the ceiling. No cameras.
She turned to inspect Wyatt’s work station. Everything was turned off. Something Myra guessed must be a camera was fastened to his monitor’s upper edge. Wyatt had covered it with a sock.
He knew. He knew I would find my way in here.
Myra looked at the wall on the far side of the room. Relieved to once again to find no cameras, she looked at the remaining walls and checked all of the furniture. Nothing. She opened the supply closet. There was nothing there either.
“It appears there is only one camera.”
Myra’s eyes perused the surface of Wyatt’s desk. “If he expected me to find my way here, he would have left instructions.” She whispered. It took little time to spot the gift. A small brightly wrapped box sat on the desk near the far corner. The front of the tag read “M.” She lifted the lid to find a USB drive resting on a scrap of paper inside with the words, “Read Me” showing in small print. If the writing had been much smaller she might not have recognized it as writing at all. Myra smiled to herself, the studio heads who had clearance to enter the media room both had trouble reading smaller fonts. She didn’t. Wyatt knew it and used the information to their advantage. Myra picked up the USB drive, the label on the back read, “Pool House.”
Understanding the USB drive was the entirety of Wyatt’s offering, not knowing what she would find on it, Myra spent another twenty minutes searching the room for anything Wyatt might have inadvertently left sitting out and found nothing. Wyatt had a knack for following the rules. She removed the drive from her hoodie pocket and studied it. “Most of the rules. Let’s see what’s in the pool house.”
Myra slowly went back to the exercise room. Taking off the sweats and the hoodie she put them away. The next time the hallway cameras picked her up she was wearing the same shorts and top she had been wearing earlier. Myra walked slowly stretching a bit and looking into the camera as she yawned. The lady of the house had returned to her bedroom for a brief nap, she was now up and heading outside to enjoy the view.
Myra walked across the patio in the direction of the beach, stopping at the gate, she looked across the water. She turned her head. Spotting something in the distance, she slowly followed the gate and disappeared from camera range.
Myra started walking backwards the moment she was out of range and did not stop until she felt her back meet with the outer wall of the pool house. She looked up. A camera was positioned directly above her head. Realizing she didn’t have much time before it found her, she squatted down and moved as quickly as she could. Myra continued running until she reached the maintenance door. If there was a computer on site it would have to be in there. She stilled her hand when she noticed a newly installed control panel. “Great,” she muttered, one corner of her mouth turned up in a smile, something about the new access panel looked familiar. It was identical to the one to the media room. Myra pulled the key Wyatt left for her from her pocket. “Here’s to hoping this key opens more than one door.”
She entered the maintenance office and found nothing but tools, pool chemicals and other supplies. “Where else can it be. This is a pool house. Where else can you hide a computer, under water?” Stepping through an unlocked door she entered the sitting area and looked around, “If I were Wyatt where would I put you…” Myra’s eyes stopped at the built in benches lining the wall. They kept extra towels stored inside. “In plain sight...Wyatt you smart ass.” She crossed the room to the bank of benches. At the bench’s far end, out of camera range, and conveniently, only steps from the ladies’ locker room Myra found an old laptop under a pile of brightly colored towels. The words “Pool House,” were painted across the top with cheap nail polish. It was one Wyatt had cleared a couple of summers ago for her nieces to play games on while the two were visiting. Cleaning up her mess, Myra lowered the lid to the bench and disappeared into the camera free locker area with her new treasure.
She turned on the computer and pushed the USB drive into a port.
Myra found several files on the drive. The first one she opened was
simply named “M.”She clicked on its only document.
Myra,
If you are opening this a lot of things have gone wrong. I don’t know if I am still alive. If I am I have a very good reason for sharing this with you. On this drive you will find the most pertinent information regarding what has been going on during the last several months. I hope the enclosed gives you everything you’ll need to navigate whatever is coming.
I am sorry I had to keep so much from you. It was necessary. You couldn’t have done Sunny Days, with this information and still accomplished what we set out to do. After you have read everything you will understand.
Love,
Wyatt
P.S. Get a bottle of wine out of the cooler because you’re going to need it sweetie. This is a real life Pandora’s box.
Myra dismissed the wine comment, pointed and clicked. Opening a file named, The Box, she read about the unknown virus and how it began spreading seemingly in all directions from Mexico and Central America, the origins being traced back to the populated areas nearest Mayan ruins in what was known as Mesoamerica during ancient times.
Thousands fell ill and hundreds died before the virus had been named. The virus, GRMN2, was named for its genome which could not be identified. It was completely alien to the epidemiologists studying it.
Within days the internet was flooded with speculation from scientists, doctors, journalists, and politicians as to what kind of virus it was and what could be done to eradicate it.
Before long everyone including the general public was weighing in on it. Mother Nature was punishing us for our foolhardy ways. It was Montezuma's final revenge. God was punishing us for our foolhardy ways. Someone found the virus in the bunker Hitler had hidden in at the end of World War II. It was the dictator’s wild card. One he never had the chance to use. It was the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. It was the end of days.
A few days later the first ascension story emerged. A doctor claimed he treated several software developers with the GRMN2 virus and none of them had died. They had all gone through physiological changes unlike anything humankind had ever seen. The government panicked and faked their deaths, going as far as transporting them from local hospitals to one on a military base in Nevada, notifying the families the men were no longer alive. The government then convinced those families to donate their loved one’s bodies to research for the sake of public health. This doctor knew for a fact that none of the men died because he was on staff at that base hospital and helped them all escape.
According to this doctor, the men had evolved. He hypothesized that the virus was not of this planet. It was a gift from an alien race. A physiological leg up to aid the human race on their next step up the evolutionary ladder. The doctor stayed with the software developers and worked with his patients as they changed. Some developed “super” powers; all experienced increased mental capacity, as well as more strength along with improved senses overall.
The doctor’s story spread at lightning speed. Within days, a group of followers emerged. People cheering the survivors of the virus on eager for any new morsel of information, and looking forward to getting their chance to ascend to this new life form.
It was not long before a more aggressive group of sympathizers branched off. They were no longer interested in waiting their turn. They wanted their new alien powers. Now. These people, known as Knoblickers would follow internet buzz obsessively, looking for signs of Infecteds hidden among the rest of the population. Drinking from their abandoned glasses, eating with their forks, following them into bathrooms and licking toilet levers. Some hiding in hospital wards. A few going as far as kidnapping them, their assailants would take turns taunting them until the GRMN2 carrier had sneezed, coughed, or shared a bodily fluid with them. One man broke into a morgue looking for GRMN2 victims. They eventually found him licking the fingers of corpses muttering to himself and crying out, begging to the unseen aliens to make him one of them.
Myra skimmed the next article and decided a glass of wine might be a good idea after all.