Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem ( Elysia and Tarquin)

Tracey nodded, then asked,noveldrama

"If our country was in danger, would you take your money and run overseas, or...?"

"I'd stay and stand with my country and my family."

Tarquin cut her off, answering without hesitation, his face serious.

Tracey looked at him, clearly pleased, her tone softening.

"The person you're asking about-I can't help you there. I honestly don't know who they are."

Tarquin frowned. "What?"

Tracey explained,

"I think you want to know who's really pulling the strings behind the virus. I've only ever heard rumors about their research team."

"The one truly responsible for your parents' deaths—that's gotta be the mastermind, the one calling the shots behind the scenes."

She leaned back, sighing.

"Scientists abroad, most of them are just highly-skilled employees. Their research directions, even what happens to their results—all of that is decided by the big shots funding them, not the scientists themselves."

"But if you want, I can dig up every detail I know about the research team later and send it to you."

"Right now, though, there's something more important. Come with me, Tarquin.”

She stood up and headed for the lab, Tarquin hurrying after her, unsure what to expect.

Inside the lab, Tracey opened the safe right in front of him.

Inside were some sealed folders and eight small vials, each labeled with a

number. She took them out and lined them up on the workbench.

"You were right. I've known about this virus for a long time. I've been researching

it myself. That's why I was so shocked when Elysia brought it to me."

She pointed to the first vial.

"This is the very first version-the generation one virus. It was a total failure."

She gestured down the line.

"This is generation two, three, four... The one you brought is generation eight."

"All the versions before number

eight kept getting stronger-two was worse than one, three worse than two, and so on. But the eighth version you gave me? It's weird. It's not stronger than the seventh. In

fact, it's somewhere between four and five in strength."

"In other words, it's more dangerous than the fourth, but weaker than the fifth."

"Another strange thing: the first seven versions came out in quick succession every three or five years, another one popped up. But between the seventh and eighth versions, there's a thirty-five year gap!"

She looked at Tarquin.

"Think about it. After all that time, the eighth version should've been even deadlier,

but it's weaker. Do you know why that is?"

Tarquin stared at the vials, troubled.

"Does it have something to do with how my parents died?"

Tracey nodded.

"If my hunch is right, the problem started with your mom and dad."

"The seventh generation virus was created thirty-five years ago. Normally, after a few years, the eighth would appear-and it should've been more lethal."

"The seventh was already horrifying-people barely survived three or four days after infection. Imagine how terrifying the eighth would've been! If it had worked as planned, it would kill in less than a day."

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BUMS

"But something happened. Thirty-five years went by before the eighth version showed up, and it turned out to be a dud."

"My guess? They did make a real eighth generation virus, but something went wrong. An accident, maybe one that stopped it from ever being released."

"And I think your parents were part of that accident."

Tarquin's eyes widened.

"You're saying they killed my parents, and have been watching me all these years, because of the real eighth generation virus?"

Tracey nodded again.

"That's exactly what I think."

Tarquin frowned, puzzling it out.

"But my mom was just one of their test subjects. How could she have gotten that

close to something so secret?"