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Contagious Scott Sigler 23830K 2022-07-22

“President Hutchins opted to keep this information secret, yes,” Murray said. “He feared that reports could cause panic as well as a flood of false cases into hospitals that could impede our ability to find real victims. There is also the threat of a lynch-mob mentality that could result in grave harm to Americans guilty of nothing more than having poison ivy or psoriasis.”

Vanessa leaned back in her chair and threw her hands up in disgust. “You see, Mister President? This is why the last eight years have crippled America. The old guard never trusted the people. This is exactly why we’re here, to put an end to government run as a web of lies.”

“I understand you’re enthusiastic about implementing new policies,” Murray said. “But if you don’t mind a little advice, Miss Colburn, you might want to get the whole story before you dismiss the calculated decisions of a former president.”

Vanessa sat forward again and glared at him. John couldn’t suppress a small smile. Murray Longworth was taking a tone with Vanessa Colburn right off the bat? John wondered how long Murray would last.

“By all means,” Vanessa said, smiling her best saccharine smile. “Please continue.”

Murray nodded. “Charlotte Wilson was just the first case we discovered.” He pointed a remote control at the screen.

click

Gary Leeland: An old man, very much alive, with hateful eyes that would have commanded full attention were it not for the one-inch-wide bluish triangle on his neck.

“This man checked in to the hospital, then hours later set his hospital bed on fire. He burned alive.”

click

Martin Brewbaker: A corpse on a morgue table, covered with blackened third-degree burns, legs cut off below the knees.

“This man killed three people: his wife, his six-year-old daughter and, when we tried to apprehend him, a CIA agent named Malcolm Johnson.”

click

Blaine Tanarive: A charred, rotted corpse, little more than a skeleton coated with gossamer green fibers.

“This one also killed his family,” Murray said. “We found him after he’d died.”

John wasn’t smiling anymore. He stared at the last picture. “What happened to him?”

Murray looked at the picture for a moment, then turned back to face John and his staff.

“Once the hosts die, their bodies decompose at an extremely advanced rate. Corpses break down to nothing but a blackened skeleton in less than two days.”

John watched Donald, Vanessa and Tom. That had always been his strength, the ability to watch people, to understand them from facial expressions, posture, movement.