Tim Curran - Biohazard

Mickey has her revenge.

Her curse is complete.

It will be done in twenty-four hours, I think, as I can feel it escalating. Speech begins to get difficult. How I contracted Ebola-X two weeks after the last vectors were destroyed in that atomic firestorm of the collision, I do not know. My Geiger Counter told me that the area was saturated with radiation for three days before dropping back to the high end of near-normal. Radiation sickness I could understand…but this, well, it makes me believe in Karma, it makes me believe that I’m paying for the lives I took.

It makes me believe that Mickey’s curse was the real thing.

I’m ending this recording now. I doubt if anyone will ever listen to it because, let’s face it, there’s no one left to listen to it. I will lay down now in my deathbed and wait for it while I dream of my beautiful wife and remember my friends, remember Sean and Carl and Specs and Texas and Mickey. And particularly Janie and the love we shared, the child we made that was never to be born.

The last man on earth sat alone in a room.

There was a knock at the door.

It was Death…