07-24-2016, 05:24 PM
The three women sat around the lab, staring at the open briefcase. The three syringes lay in the case, laid neatly in the foam packaging.
“To recap,” Carmelita began again, for the third time in the half an hour they’d been resting after the fight. “One of these will likely kill the user, if not turn them into a monster. The other two may or may not contain a vaccine, or if we’re lucky a miracle cure. Or they might not work, since judging by my headache we’ve also caught what Amber has. And there’s no guarantee that the zombie’s are related to the ghouls.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so by basic maths, these three, identical syringes mean that there is a one third chance that the first syringe will kill someone. If it doesn’t, then there’s a half chance the second will.”
“Yes.”
“Madre de dios,” she groaned into her hands. The headache and chills going up her spine did not make it easy to think things through, but then she glanced at Amber. The difference in disease progression was apparent: Amber’s skin had been sloughing off, she was deathly pale and every so often her arms would start shaking.
Amber herself, ironically, seemed most focused on the case. She had taken the most damage in the fight, and was scratching her arm lightly where the blood had caked from an impact with the wall. Admittedly, the rest of them were in a bad shape as well, but she definitely had it the worst.
The faunus looked at Arturia, then at Carmelita.
“Inject me.”
Both of the others got to their feet, about to object, when the faunus raised a hand to halt their words.
“Hear me out. I’m the ideal first subject. I’m wounded, badly, and the two of you could put me down if I follow Fleshy’s example. On top of that, if it is a vaccine, then we find out if its a miracle cure or whether we should just chuck it down the drain and start scouring the island for herbs and leaves…”
Amber looked Carmelita in the eyes.
“You have those electric cuffs, don’t you? Put them on me. Give me peace of mind.”
She turned to Arturia.
“And you get ready with the sword. First sign I’m going feral, off with my head. Better to try respawning than to live as a monster.”
Carmelita and Arturia looked at each other. Carmelita’s mind was tearing itself apart in worry and indecision, but she could respect the choice and she reluctantly plucked the last pair of Fisti-Cuffs from her belt and gestured for Amber to put her hands behind her back.
“It feels wrong,” she whispered to herself. “To be doing this to an innocent.”
Amber’s keen ears flicked back and she chuckled.
“Carmy, this whole island’s been wrong. Let’s just keep doing what needs to be done. This is my choice.”
Carmelita nodded, and closed the cuffs quietly. She prepared the electrical shock for manual activation, and as they waited for Arturia’s verdict on the situation, offered Amber the briefcase for her to choose which syringe to use, and a last chance to back out.
“To recap,” Carmelita began again, for the third time in the half an hour they’d been resting after the fight. “One of these will likely kill the user, if not turn them into a monster. The other two may or may not contain a vaccine, or if we’re lucky a miracle cure. Or they might not work, since judging by my headache we’ve also caught what Amber has. And there’s no guarantee that the zombie’s are related to the ghouls.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so by basic maths, these three, identical syringes mean that there is a one third chance that the first syringe will kill someone. If it doesn’t, then there’s a half chance the second will.”
“Yes.”
“Madre de dios,” she groaned into her hands. The headache and chills going up her spine did not make it easy to think things through, but then she glanced at Amber. The difference in disease progression was apparent: Amber’s skin had been sloughing off, she was deathly pale and every so often her arms would start shaking.
Amber herself, ironically, seemed most focused on the case. She had taken the most damage in the fight, and was scratching her arm lightly where the blood had caked from an impact with the wall. Admittedly, the rest of them were in a bad shape as well, but she definitely had it the worst.
The faunus looked at Arturia, then at Carmelita.
“Inject me.”
Both of the others got to their feet, about to object, when the faunus raised a hand to halt their words.
“Hear me out. I’m the ideal first subject. I’m wounded, badly, and the two of you could put me down if I follow Fleshy’s example. On top of that, if it is a vaccine, then we find out if its a miracle cure or whether we should just chuck it down the drain and start scouring the island for herbs and leaves…”
Amber looked Carmelita in the eyes.
“You have those electric cuffs, don’t you? Put them on me. Give me peace of mind.”
She turned to Arturia.
“And you get ready with the sword. First sign I’m going feral, off with my head. Better to try respawning than to live as a monster.”
Carmelita and Arturia looked at each other. Carmelita’s mind was tearing itself apart in worry and indecision, but she could respect the choice and she reluctantly plucked the last pair of Fisti-Cuffs from her belt and gestured for Amber to put her hands behind her back.
“It feels wrong,” she whispered to herself. “To be doing this to an innocent.”
Amber’s keen ears flicked back and she chuckled.
“Carmy, this whole island’s been wrong. Let’s just keep doing what needs to be done. This is my choice.”
Carmelita nodded, and closed the cuffs quietly. She prepared the electrical shock for manual activation, and as they waited for Arturia’s verdict on the situation, offered Amber the briefcase for her to choose which syringe to use, and a last chance to back out.