The Inner Circle

"Ah, crap." The scalpel falls and hits the ground with a soft *clink*. "Well, the operation is basically done... I guess..." I step back from the messy, red corpse. He was a nice fellow, always volunteered to take the virus when other people were frightened. Sadly, that would utterly lead to his downfall. Poor guy, really feel bad for him. But, at least his body could be used for science...

Well, not like I learned anything new... As usual...

"Shit."

I toss the gloves into the bio-hazard bin (an old trash can) and walk back outside. The sun hurt my eyes, it was a long operation after all. I tried especially hard this time, I guess I've just been getting impatient. All I've been able to find out about TAG is that it's fucking strong; nothing can kill it. Lately I've been working on a vaccine, but that hasn't been bearing much fruit either.

"Hey Doc!"

Jon, a young pre-med student and my "assistant", gasps for breath after having seemingly ran over here.

"What's up?"

"Oh, I've got news I think you'd like to hear."

My eyes open wide with every little bit of info he tells me, like a kid who's learning about Santa Claus for the first time. But this guy sounds like more of a saint than Santa will ever be. According to Jon, rumors have been going around that a guy has been wandering all around "relieving" people of TAG. That is, he has been letting himself become IT. This isn't anything new, especially in a Hot Potato community like The Inner Circle, but this son-of-a-bitch has apparently been doing this for months now!

Thoughts of how this could happen, why this could happen, experiments I could do on this Messiah (as I now call him) rush through my head. I'm so lost in thought that I hardly notice that I have a duffel bag of a bunch of equipment already slung over my shoulder.

I knew I should have payed attention in Spanish class...

Yes, it is painful to admit, but I wasn't exactly the brightest student back in school, aside from the sciences, of course. Actually, I had bad grades in those classes too, since I goofed off so much on my own "projects."

Luckily, I heard her stomach.

"At least your stomach is more direct." I bend back down to my bag and toss her a chunk of rye bread. I sit back down, relieved that the worst of it seems to be over, and ask her, "Still haven't caught your name, though."

"On second though, never mind. I'll probably forget about it soon enough." I grab another piece of dry bread and stuff it in my mouth.

"So, you headed for The Inner Circle?"

"Well actually I-" I am cut off by the rushed sounds of footsteps. The cracking of twigs, the rustling of bushes. I instinctively crouch down and grab my shotgun. The noise doesn't stop, though, and only gets louder and louder. But the brush is too thick to see through and all I can do is wait for whatever may come. This is going to be fu-

Mid-thought, a desperate and crazed man grabs onto me from behind. He grips on for dear life, in quite a literal sense I may add, and makes it extremely difficult for me to yank him off. His hands wildly flail about my body, searching for an open area to transmit his TAG. After several long seconds of struggling, I finally manage to toss him, where he then scurries off into the wilderness like small animal. I do a quick body check.

Arms: OK.
Chest: No problem.
Legs: ...

I see the tell-tale brown mark on my right thigh. A ghastly and mocking stain, death incarnate. "Crazy son-of-a-bitch."

But this isn't much of a problem. I could very easily go back to the inner-circle to drop this "present" off. Or I could even tag this girl here, and she'd have no way of giving it back...

*BANG*

I turn towards the loud sound, and gunshot. Bandits. To make matters worse, the shots come from the same direction of the Inner Circle. No running now. Today just gets better and better, huh? I turn to my possible companion and say, "C'mon, we gotta go."