Red Eyes

Cameron stared out the window of her apartment, cradling a cup of coffee between her frigid hands. She closed her eyes and sipped the warm brew, reveling in the liquid hug. For months she'd isolated herself away from humanity in hopes of dodging a man made super virus. Delivery services dropped groceries and other necessities at her door. Her graphic arts company operated from home and business meetings requiring face to face conversations were conducted through Zoom calls. She vowed to keep her compromised immune system safe by self-quarantining. Although her diabetes was under control, she found herself in a higher risk category and waited patiently for the vaccination schedule to open up for her age group.

Cameron passed the time by reading Agatha Christie mysteries and monitoring the World Health Organization website. Throughout the day, she refreshed the page to be made aware of the world's hotspots for transmission and the newest number of deaths. Some thought her fascination with the virus morbid, but it brought a modicum of comfort to Cameron. She would rather be in the know than out of the loop.

Cameron's phone buzzed and the caller id registered unknown caller. She waited for the call to switch to voicemail. Moments later she listened to the message and smiled. She could now report to any CVS Pharmacy and receive her inoculation. A special news report interrupted her morning coffee. She turned up the television's volume. A woman reporting from downtown sounded unnerved as she described the chaotic scene unfolding around her.

"Within the last few minutes, throngs of people have converged here at Main and 26th. As you can see behind me, most are carrying signs with large "V's" and all in chorus are chanting, 'Get vaccinated or get eliminated.'"

Cameron watched as the crowd marched in unison as if in an organized army. A sea of people stretched as far as the eye could see. The reporter walked alongside, posing questions to those in the massive crowd.

She directed her first inquiry to a middle aged man, wearing a tailored business suit. "Samantha Postin, WKRZ Television...why are you here today?"

The man's head swiveled quickly to answer. His eyes glowed an eerie shade of red. He responded in a clipped manner, "To warn the infidels." His head turned forward as he marched on purposefully. A younger woman broke ranks and knelt to lace up her shoes. Samantha asked, "Are you marching to warn the infidels? And who are the infidels." The woman tilted her head upward and looked directly into Samantha's eyes. The reporter took a step back. Once again she noted the marcher's shiny red pupils. "Yes, and those who pose a public health risk," she growled. She finished the knot and joined the protestors.

Samantha's cameraman panned the colossal gathering. Cameron gasped as she noted the eyes of those marching...all eyes glowing red. She watched as the marchers in one accord did an about face and marched the opposite direction. Every person in perfect step, each word spoken in perfect unison. The camera swung to focus on Samantha once again. As she continued to deliver breaking news about the swarm of people, a small mob formed around her, screaming, "You're an infidel." Someone pushed the cameraman to the ground, the lens capturing a bright blue sky. Cameron watched in horror as screams streamed through her surround sound. "Don't jab me," a woman's voice protested over and over. Back on his feet, the cameraman focused on the mob attacking the reporter and then dispersing to merge with the masses. Samantha brushed herself off, picked up her microphone and stared into the camera. Her eyes glowed red. "I have decided to join the cause." She dropped her mic and united with the protestors. The screen went dark.

Cameron's coffee cup trembled in her hands. She switched off the television and eased down on the couch. Had her eyes and ears deceived her? Could the oft touted vaccine be causing side effects? Were the vaccinated under some type of mind control? A cold chill rippled through her body. A sudden howl of sirens prompted Cameron to peer out the window. Numerous police cruisers screeched to a halt up and down her street. She gaped in horror as officers dragged people from their apartments. Even from four floors above ground level, Cameron noted the red eyes of each officer. The people dragged from their homes were shot with tranquilizer guns, each victim sprawling to the ground. Within seconds, those shot stood to their feet, eyes glowing and they stormed off, presumably to join the hordes gathered a few blocks away.

Cameron pulled the drapes closed and breathed a quick prayer. A thunderous knock at the front door announced the authorities arrival. She could play the voicemail for the officers, proving her scheduled vaccination, but now she entertained second thoughts. Was the vaccine responsible for this apocalyptic behavior? If so, she wanted no part of it. She grabbed her phone and crawled into the back of the coat closet. The frame of her front door splintered as heavy boots pounded into her living room. Her phone rang. "Not now, Mom," she whispered. The doorknob turned...

The phone continued to ring.

And ring.

Cameron slapped at the phone knocking it from her nightstand. She leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed the phone, punching talk. "Hello," Cameron answered groggily.

"Good morning, Cam. It's Mom. How are you?"

Cameron stretched and yawned, trying to shake off the ill effects of a nightmare.

"Okay..."

"You don't sound okay."

"I'm just a little sore." Cameron rubbed the injection site and groaned to her feet. She stumbled to the mirror and stared at her reflection. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she passed out.

She too, had red eyes.