Michael Malone - Weebly

shoe was the swelling face of Bob ("Bucky") Eagerly.
Around them darted the little fish and big fish that lived
in the pond. A giant bass swam ponderously by.
The minnows fled. The bass lumbered through the
metal scaffolding over to the pilot's seat, veered away
from the wave of a distended arm, and wriggled back
into the inky depths.
Not far away, in a fenced compound beyond some
marshes, scientific equipment lay gleaming in a
laboratory beside an overturned counter. Sun glittered
through a shattered window onto the shelves and
counters and floor of broken glass. On that floor, like a
yogi on a bed of nails, an ambitious young scientist lay
on the jagged pieces of his final experiment. His eyes
were red and his tongue was black.
Throughout the compound, on floors, at desks, in
bed, beside a Ping Pong table, in front of a refrigerator,
next to a sink, lay with protruding eyes and bloated
black tongues a whole team of dedicated young men
who had just perfected an irresistible, undetectable,
instantaneous artificial pathogen, a Lethal Dose100, a
weapon flawed only, as Dr. Svatopluk had confessed