This room is different than the other. I'm not surrounded by red tubes. Instead, there are computers all around me, floor to ceiling screens. It all seems very advanced. On the other side of a window the tubes of the virus line the walls, blue tubes as far as I can see. The door to that room is solid glass, with another keypad attached to it.

I step carefully towards the screens, which are completely black except for the outline of a hand. The words "Place hand here." blink across the top in bright white letters. Cautiously, I stretch out my hand, pressing it on the cold glassy surface.

On impact, the screen comes to life. My name appears across the top, above my head. Files clutter the right of the screen. They have no names, just numbers, except one. It reads "Welcome Message".

Considering the screen recognized my hand, I think it's safe to make the assumption that I can touch it to open up the files. So, hands shaking, I tap the Welcome Message folder, and a dialogue box appears.

Preparing video for...

Jaelyn Nicole Price...

3... 2... 1....

The screen blacks itself out again. I am surrounded by white noise, an empty crackling sound. The screen blinks white, and then, a younger version of my father pops up.

The man staring back at me looks barely older than I am. His hair isn't gray; it's a brilliant blonde, just like mine. There are no wrinkles on his face, and I don't hear the wheezing in his breathing. He wears a long white lab coat, just like the one he works in now. I recognize the room behind him as the room filled with blue tubes through the glass behind me.

"Hello, Jaelyn," he says, in a clear voice. My father's voice sounds tense every day, but this young man is calm, happy almost. "If you're watching this video, you've discovered the existence of the second strand of the virus. Not only that, but you've broken into Room 406 and managed to figure out the computer. That means you're so much more capable than I could have hoped. I know President Hartley didn't leave the room unattended."

I sit down in one of the rolling chairs, pushing my hair out my face. It's like watching a stranger talk to me. His half-hearted compliment almost seems sarcastic, like something I might say.

"I can only wonder what you've done with me, since I'm sure you deem me responsible for the virus in the first place."

I nod to myself, taking a deep breath.

"And you should, because I was head of the development team. I was not alone, though, which is important. I headed a three man team of scientists who were at the top of the nation at the time. We were the best of the best, the brightest men on earth, and we all had families with children and people that mattered to us.

"I was approached by the president in January of 2047 and told that I would head the creation of a virus that would turn humans into 'zombies', making them lose their minds and desire to eat other humans to survive. We weren't given an option, Jay. You have to understand that we had no choice."

My father shakes his head, like he's trying to remove the painful memory. He covers his eyes with his hand, grimacing.

"It was either do as he said or he would punish us where it mattered most. He promised that if we didn't do as he said that he would end all our lives, beginning with our families so we would suffer through losing you first and then beg for death."

His voice shakes, and he looks back towards me, tears brimming his eyes.

"I had no option. I signed the contract to protect you and Mandy. We started production right away. My team were responsible for creating the first strand and the cure, which we did in a matter of months. For us, it wasn't hard work; it was just time consuming. We were simply told that the goal of the Decontamination was to cleanse America of it's filth, making America great again."

He takes a long deep breath, gnawing at his lower lip.

"Believe me when I say, Jay, that I had no choice. Today's date is March 1st, 2054, and we have just finished production of the second strand. If you go through the other video files, it will all make sense. We weren't always being watched, but we kept regular video logs. This room was the only privacy we had. Watch the videos. Know the whole story, Jay. Think before you act."

The video ends with a pop, and the screen returns to the black surface where the files line the right. The video was filmed just six years ago.

I stand up, coming up closer. The titles of the folders are dates. Some of them go all the way back to 2047. I look for the oldest one, before Mandy was even injected.

Preparing video file...

June, 2047...

3... 2... 1...

The screen comes to life again, and a woman stands before me this time. She is older, thin with wrinkles and laugh lines around her eyes. There are bags under her eyes, and she has a pale tone to her skin.

"To whomever is watching," she says, in a shaky voice, " They won't allow us to test the virus or the cure on random subjects. They say that we have to test it on someone in our immediate family. That way, if it doesn't work the way it should, we are the ones who feel the failure. We are going to draw sticks, because none of us could dream of making our relatives into lab rats."

She shakes her head, eyes dropping.

"End transmission," she says, and the video ends with another pop. Hurriedly, I tap the next one. The beginning message repeats, and my father appears again.

July, 2047...

"The virus worked," he says with a smile, "And the cure worked, too. We tested it on Mandy, but she's safe and fine. I hate that Jaelyn had to see her like that, but it was necessary. Jay thinks she's dead, but I can't explain that to her right now. Maybe one day. Now, though, we plan to inject the cure into our family members. We can't give it to ourselves, though, because they would know. It has to be done in complete secret, away from the ears and eyes that follow us everywhere. That means there will be six people with full immunity in a nation of three hundred and nineteen billion."

He scratches his growing beard, and I catch a glimpse of the lab behind him.

"We are going to start spreading it very soon," he continues, glancing at a calendar on the wall. "The western states are showing some dissent. I fear it may start an all out civil war at this rate, but that's not my business to worry about. End transmission."

The video ends, and I stand, paralyzed. I have the cure inside me because of my father, not genetics. So does Mandy, and, we aren't the only ones. There are four more people in the world that are immune. I wonder if they even know. Inspecting the dates, I select one a little further ahead, skipping several.

June, 2049...

After the initial countdown, a new person appears. It's a man my father's age, but he looks exotic with his dark skin and hair.

"Today marks the second year into the virus," he says, thick with an accent. "People have been allowed into the new compounds, and the gates are shut. For good."

He takes a deep breath, pushing his glasses up.

"Our families are safely inside, with the exception of Price's wife. Our tests showed that the virus was gone from her DNA, but we had to increase her dosage to see how much the cure could handle. We thought she was dead, and we left her behind. It was just recently discovered that she escaped, taking some confidential files about the virus with her."

He comes in close to the camera, lowering his voice.

"Let's all hope those files never get out to the public, or else the government will be in trouble. There are more victims than officials. The balance is uneven, and it would not take much to send it tumbling down."

He leans back up.

"We do not need to end up like Compounds 6 through 10. End transmission."

I must've missed something. What happened to 6 through 10? There wasn't much to get from that video, except that the government is weak. The Indian man has a point. It wouldn't take much to overthrow those in charge. Say about fifteen strong individuals.

I shuffle back a few videos, pushing play again.

March, 2048...

"Good morning," the woman says, sitting this time, "The westerns states fell today."

The breath leaves me, and I lean forward on my knees.

"Compounds 6 through 10 were taken over by the civilians, forcing the presidents out into the wild. Rumor has it they are either dead or infected. The civilians took over the cure. I've heard they pass it out freely." She shakes her head. "There's only so much. If they keep handing it out, they'll run out, and all this would have been for nothing. All this death would be a waste."

She closes her eyes, resting her head on the back of the chair.

"Compound 5 has sent troops to build a wall between the east and west. If we can keep them out, maybe we can survive and finish the Decontamination. After all, we have to make America great again. That's the point of all this, isn't it?"

She looks away, shaking her head again.

"End transmission."

The screen returns to normal, and I sit motionless, hand still over my chest.

The civilians won. There are no compounds to the west. No compounds, and no virus. Clearly, it can't be public knowledge because the people here would get the idea to follow in their footsteps. As unhappy as everyone is, it wouldn't take much convincing. I sit back in the chair. There's hope. We don't have to be stuck in the compounds.

I look through the files one more time, finding the most recent. There has to be something more recent than thirteen years ago. Maybe a summary video. I'm sitting here wasting time while Isaac is waiting in the hallway.

I tap the last file in the list, labeled with this year and month. I listen to the beginning, counting down aloud to myself.

November, 2060...

3... 2... 1...

It's my father, standing beside a smiling President Hartley.

"Good evening, Jaelyn," Hartley says, crossing his hands in front of him. "I'm glad you've made it this far. You see, I've been watching you ever since your incident with Duncan, when you first showed signs of defiance. I'm sure you watched the other videos and were inspired by rebellion and dissent. You should know, though, that there are consequences for every action."

Hartley taps a computer screen beside him, and pictures of empty landscapes pass by. There's nothing but wasteland, levelled cities and never ending deserts.

"Yes, the western compounds 'escaped'," Hartley says, using air quotes around the word 'escaped', "And they tried really hard to get through our wall. Almost succeeded a few times, but there's a certain strength in unification and power."

He points to the picture on the screen. It shows a huge fire, taking over a mountain.

"We burned them," Hartley says, "Sent in helicopters and just set them all on fire." He smiles, humming in satisfaction. "Just like we burned your little defiant friends in Dunlap."

He begins to pace, and my father lowers his face.

"You're a fighter, though, Jaelyn, and it's an admirable quality, really. You came out of that fire untouched. Apparently, we can't fight your fire with fire. So, we are going to make you the enemy. Doctor, please explain to your daughter what you've designed."

Dad steps forward, his face tense and serious. This is the father I know, not the man from the videos before.

"I have set a trap for you in another room of this floor. You will see the tubes of liquid, and you will be able to easily break into the tubes to release them. Yet, that will not be the second strand. It will be the cure. Your inability to think before you act will be your weakness."

Hartley roars with laughter, causing the speakers around me to crackle with the sound.

"We plan on making you the public enemy," Hartley says, throwing his hands up. "I think it's a brilliant plan. That's not all, though, because if you're watching this, you found the second strand. We knew you would."

He steps towards the camera.

"You should at least die well informed," he says, looking directly at me, as if he can see me through the screen. "Hasn't your father told you over and over to not be so impulsive? See you soon, precious Jaelyn."

My father is shaking his head, his lips pursed. I notice then that he's cuffed, hands in front of him.

"End transmission," Dad whispers, and computer in front of me goes completely black.