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destroy the human immune system in a way that no one would ever suspect anything sinister… a sexually transmitted disease .”
    Barabbas was taken back by her words. 
    “Caroline, baby you’re not making a lick of sense.  How could a sexually transmitted disease cause what’s happening now?  HIV/AIDS has been around for years, and nothing like this has ever happened before.”
    “That’s because the disease was virtually dormant by today’s standards,” Caroline said.  “Yes it still broke down the immune system resulting in eventual death, but something else happened.  Something that the geniuses in our government never saw coming occurred.  The cocktail no longer works because the virus has started to mutate into a much more aggressive form, far beyond what the cocktail can control.  People aren’t just dying Barabbas.  They’re dying and their bodies are being reanimated.”
    “Goddammit!” Gabriel shouted.  “It’s the goddamned Tuskegee Experiment all over again!”
    “The what?” Nicodemus asked.
    “The Tuskegee Experiment,” Gabriel said.  “Back in the 1930s and 40s, the U.S. government did a clandestine study on the effects of untreated syphilis in African-Americans.  Back in those days the people thought they were receiving free medical care.  What resulted became a scandal as well as a tragedy of epic proportions.  And now the bastards are doing it all over again.”
    “Exactly,” Caroline intervened.  “Not only that, but those ‘high crime zones’ around the city that we aren’t allowed to enter are more than what they seem as we originally suspected.  Anyone infected with HIV/AIDS is isolated to those areas.  Serial codes are imprinted onto the skin. No one ever gets in or out, and even that’s becoming a problem lately.  People are changing faster than the local police expected.  They’re losing control over those areas and it won’t be long before those people get out.”
    “What ha ppens when they die?” Nicodemus asked.
    “Once the virus kills the person, they are reanimated.  Then…execution.”
    A profound silence swept through the room.  Neither person could believe what they’d just heard.  It all seemed way too far-fetched.  Could a government-engineered sexually transmitted disease actually turn people into zombies?  It sounded like something out of a bad B-horror film, yet here they were in the middle of something that no one dared dream could possibly happen.
    “There have been protests all throughout the country over the healthcare debate, with the main emphasis being Viractyn,” Caroline said.
    “Well I guess so!” Nicodemus fired back.  “People are afraid they’ll turn into fucking zombies!” 
    “They’re afraid, but not for that reason,” Caroline replied.  “Remember, the American public doesn’t really know what Viractyn is for.  They think it’s the long sought after cure for HIV/AIDS.  They don’t know that the virus man y are living with as we speak is mutating inside them.  The bottom line is people are becoming zombies either by carrying the virus or being bitten by someone who does.  One bite is all it takes.  Once bitten, the person can turn anywhere from a few minutes up to an hour, some with freakish strength.  We’re way past Night of the Living Dead here and Viractyn is supposed to be the cure.”
    Barabbas sa t expressionless as Gabriel and Nicodemus weighed the effect of Caroline’s words.  It wasn’t exactly clear whether it was the horror of what she said or the effects of absinthe that were now dulling his senses.  He simply sat on the couch and drifted for a moment.  Gabriel reached for his famed trumpet, but then thought better of it.  Instead, he grabbed from a holster on the wall one of his most prized possessions-a gleaming Gretsch White Falcon guitar.  Cradling the blistering beauty in his arms, he sat on a stool and played a few of the most beautiful and haunting chords imaginable