Freedom XVIII

Agent David Wilson was more moved by what he found in the guest room than he wanted to admit. He was rather embarrassed to find Aidan lying in Tasha’s arms, but he pressed past the awkwardness of stumbling upon them. At least they are dressed, he thought briefly before becoming greatly concerned about how still they were. 

He bent low, careful not to touch either of them upon seeing the familiar infection in Tasha’s fingers. Aidan’s wound was oozing from under the bandage, but the appearance of the rest of the skin that caught his attention, shocking him. Their lips and fingertips were blue. He saw no breath rising in their chests after close inspection. 

David slid a plastic glove onto his hand before checking them for pulses. Both Aidan and Tasha were dead. 

Then he awoke, gasping for air as he lifted his head from his desk at headquarters. 

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