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dissolved with her headache.  There was no more hospital.  There was just her and an endless field.
    To her surprise, one of the poppies in front of her turned to the poppy beside it.  “She’ll be out for at least another hour,” it began, speaking in the medical associate’s voice.
    “Go ahead and bring in the students,” another poppy said in the manager’s commanding voice.
    All of the poppies surrounding Virginia turned to face her.
    Virginia could hear the clicking of shoes on a hard floor, but the only movement she saw was the field of poppies rippling with the breeze.
    “This patient has been kept in a sedated state for three days, and this morning she was listed non-contagious,” the manager poppy said.  “We’ve taken DNA samples, however, and unfortunately hers has turned out the same as all of the rest.”
    All of the poppies stared in on her as a bright light came from nowhere and shone straight into her face.  She tried to turn away, her eyes watering from the light, and suddenly she realized that she was in the hospital room, surrounded by people in white coats and facemasks, with a pocket light shining directly into one of her eyes.
    Virginia sat up with a gasp, and the group around her took a collective step back.  Her eyes quickly shot over to those of the manager, and then she looked at the rest of the men pleadingly.  “Please don’t let him sedate me again!  I want to know what’s going on!”
    Virginia pulled the intravenous needle from her arm, watching the manager for any quick moves.  “I want to see my husband!”
    “Let’s worry about one thing at a time,” the manager said.
    “I know my rights!  Obviously, I’m not contagious, or all of you would be wearing rubber suits.  I want my discharge papers now!” Virginia yelled.
    “Your rights have changed,” the manager said, letting the rest of the group know exactly where she now stood.
    Virginia tried to get out of the bed.  The manager gave a few of the others a subtle nod, and they swarmed in on her and pinned her down.  The manager injected another potent sedative into her thigh, and she went limp almost immediately.
    The medical manager turned to his senior associate.  “Call Corporate and see if they’ve decided whether or not to declare the group dead.”
    The associate nodded, and then quickly left the room with meaning and importance to his gait.
    Virginia could hear what the manager said, but she could barely keep from drooling on herself, let alone flee for her life.  She stared up at the bugs and moving colors once more, praying that she might wake up to live another day, if just long enough to know what exactly she would be dying over.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     

    MEDICAL-CORP sent a medical associate to check the rest of the family for signs of infection.  The associate gave George a small box of ashes.  “Our condolences.”
    “They said it was some kind of virus?” George asked, pulling the box close to his body.
    “A retrovirus deployed somehow by a deviant terrorist group,” the associate said.  “Your entire family could have been exposed to the same agent that infected her, so I’m going to need to examine all of you, search your home, and take a detailed history of the past week.”
    George shrugged.  “A history of what?  It was a week, just like any other week.”
    The medical associate gave George a sympathetic face.  “I know this is hard for you, Mr. Irwin, but I need you to think.  Did your wife go anywhere or do anything new or different?”
    George shook his head, barely able to think.  He clutched his arms tighter around the box, shaking his head.
    “Did she bring home anything unusual?  Any second-hand jewelry or make-up?”
    George continued to shake his head.
    “Nothing painted with a kind of messy, blue glitter?”
    George froze, his mind rushing back to the previous morning.  “Blue glitter?” he asked, his throat going