FOXGLOVE by KELSI CORNWELL

-1-
     Most people may argue that the most dangerous person in the world is he who possesses a weapon. A troubled soul who grabs a gun from his father’s gun cabinet just to cause a stir the next day, or maybe a knife and dares anyone to stop him, or maybe even someone who has a knack for making bombs and wants to see just how many people he can cause to have pain. A vehicle can even serve as a weapon today…egotistical maniacs hiding behind an object to evoke chaos and destruction. Some would agree that these are cowardice actions whereas others know that the mind itself is the ultimate weapon and the most powerful of all. Therefore the most perilous is he whose intelligence goes beyond that of the average Joe. The one who is not just able to think and understand, but able to make their thoughts a reality and manipulate the very laws of science and life itself. This individual is the most dangerous of all and he is known as Emmitt Straine.
     Emmitt sat at his desk waiting as the last microbiologist exited the laboratory through the metal doors. He was now alone and could finally finish his greatest experiment, creating the deadliest superbug the world has ever seen, a hobby which soon turned into obsession. Emmitt grabbed his notebook and made sure the doors of the lab were secured before making his way to the incubator. He put on his gloves and added both a respirator and a facemask before opening the door. “You can never be too safe,” he thought to himself. After moving a few trays of petri dishes, he found his tray in the very back and placed it on the counter beside him. He replaced the other trays making sure they were in the same position as they were prior to his tampering. Emmitt closed the incubator door, picked up his tray, and moved to the fume hood. 
     As he sifted through the dishes he came across the three he was looking for, the ones he labeled simply as alpha, beta, and gamma. Although labeled differently, all three petri dishes contained the exact same concoction…a superbug Emmitt created himself and named “Foxglove,” after his online penname. The superbug, or what most scientists call a chimera bug, is a combination of some of the world’s most deadly bacteria; Emmitt’s combination. He was proud of his creation and was stoked to put it to the test at the upcoming hacker’s convention, a place he had been going for the past five years. 
     It was almost two years ago when the idea occurred to him. He was sitting at DEF CON while listening to one of many speeches given at the conference. It’s odd how these things sometimes just come to the mind and manifest themselves. The idea? A highly transmissible superbug causing the first actual zombie-like outbreak. He could do it, he knew he could, and it wasn’t like this superbug disease wasn’t possible. Emmitt knew firsthand that anything is possible if you know how to manipulate an organism’s genome. He went back to his hotel room that evening and decided to make some notes and do some research. He was already a research scientist at West Virginia University with a bachelor’s degree in microbiology, so a lot of the information he wrote down he either already knew or was quite familiar with. He never really believed anything would truly come of it; it was only a thought of “what if this happened.” Eventually one thing lead to another and before he knew it he was in the process of creating the fiercest and deadliest disease-causing agent the world would ever see. 
     Aside from the actual trial and error, the research took the longest. In order to properly create a new organism Emmitt had to determine not only the characteristics he wanted his organism to have, but how he was going to obtain such characteristics as well as whether or not the bacteria would be similar enough to pass recombination. He would also have to determine which organism would be the skeleton of Foxglove. His first choice, and the choice he stuck with, was Bacillus anthracis, the causative agent for deadly anthrax.
     Emmitt Straine has been fascinated with anthrax since the anthrax letters that occurred back in 2001. Bacillus anthracis, a Gram-positive bacilli that has the potential to generate spores, which is by far the deadliest part of the organism. His fascination with anthrax was actually what pushed him to obtain a microbiology degree in the first place. Although highly fascinating, Bacillus anthracis still possessed some characteristics that he felt were detrimental to his cause. In order to separate what Emmitt considered “good” characteristics of the bacteria (high mortality rate, environmentally stable, great longevity, and ability to be aerosolized just to name a few) from the “bad” characteristics (the fact that it was not easily transmittable from person to person and that there was a vaccine available for certain individuals), he had to determine the exact parts of the genome of Bacillus anthracis that corresponded with these capabilities and replace these parts of the genome with the genome of something much more sinister: Francisella tularensis.
     Emmitt chose to use Francisella because of its highly infectious characteristics. With the ability to infect an individual with less than ten colony forming units, this would allow for a greater population to be infected without requiring as much of the organism. The main issue with Francisella? It is not transmitted from person to person and neither is Bacillus anthracis. Although this is not a huge obstacle (there will be an estimated 50,000 people at DEF CON 25 this year wearing shirts infected with the spores of Foxglove), Emmitt was still aiming to make the disease communicable in nature. With little time left at this point, he had decided to continue tweaking the Francisella/Bacillus combination. 
     Later in development Emmitt came up with the idea of utilizing the neurotoxin botulinum from Clostridium botulinum in his organism. Since Clostridium botulinum is highly anaerobic whereas Foxglove was aerobic, this would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to accomplish. Trial after trial and error after error, Emmitt Straine finally came up with a resolution: the B. anthracis capsule. Bacillus anthracis is known to have a glutamyl-peptide capsule which is released by the spores during environments of elevated carbon dioxide. Could this capsule, which protects it from being phagocytized, be what Emmitt has been needing all this time?
     After replacing the other trays, Emmitt closed the incubator door and went to the fume hood to examine his creation while noting their appearance in his notebook.
Colonies – medium sized, slightly convex, grayish-white, opaque, and irregular margin; non-hemolytic, catalase positive; sticky consistency (shows no characteristics of C. botulinum as originally hypothesized; must determine if C. botulinum did in fact survive the combination)
     After recording his results into his notebook, Emmitt began to feel overwhelmed. He has been working on Foxglove for almost two years trying to make it perfect and still cannot come up with a way to incorporate the botulinum toxin into his organism. Without this toxin, it will be much harder to develop the perfect disease causing agent and he is running out of time. DEF CON 25 will start in just ten days so if he wants to accomplish it this year he needs to pick up the pace. His hopes and dreams of being the first designated (and highly successful) genetic hacker may need to be put on hold for yet another year just because his research hasn’t been thorough. He closes his notebook and begins to think. “How can I add it and it actually work?!” He turns to his laptop sitting on the desk beside him and begins to research “Clostridium botulinum.” While scrolling through the results for close to forty-five minutes none of the titles spiked his interest. He looked at the clock which read 1914. Over an hour and a half has passed since his shift has ended and he has nothing to show for it. Aggravated, Emmitt begins to gather up his things. He can’t believe he has come this far just to be devastated yet again. As he makes his way back to the incubator he notices an article sitting on a desk of one of his fellow employees. The article is about the Ebola virus and how it has spread throughout Africa causing major issues for the southern part of the continent. Ebola virus….virus. Could this be the answer to his never-ending question? Could it be possible to use a viral vector to incorporate everything he wished into one superbug? It must be because molecular biologists use it all the time to introduce bacterial DNA into a cell, how is this any different? The adrenaline returns as he places his petri dish tray back into the incubator and rushes to open his laptop once again.
     Emmitt changes his search to “viral vectors” and begins his extensive hunt for the perfect viral predator. Of course the ultimate viral vector would be the Ebola virus. Although the virus is not new, it has just recently been reintroduced to the public causing quite a stir considering it is highly dangerous…and quite scary. Once infected the individual begins to have a sore throat and headache later accompanied with nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, skin rash, decreased organ function, and, Emmitt’s personal favorite, often fatal hemorrhagic fever, the most notable symptom. “That would be a sight to see.” thinks Emmitt, “bleeding from every orifice, confused state, contagious. Although this seems nearly perfect, it would be impossible to find a lab holding the virus around here…” He keeps on searching wanting to find something that would be the ultimate vector. He sees a few articles on rhabdoviruses and decides to stay clear of the rabies virus since it is very cliché to use. However, if Emmitt Straine wants to create the perfect zombie disease, he knows he will most likely need to incorporate rabies somehow. Confusion, rage with the urge to bite, heavy saliva, nervous system compromised, and no cure? It is almost perfect, however the only way for transmission from person-to-person and Emmitt knows all too well that one infected person will not have the capacity to transmit the disease as fast as he hopes, let alone with just the rabies virus as the vector. This is still not good enough for Emmitt. He wants something complex; something that would be overlooked yet still remain highly infectious. 
     After almost another hour of research Emmitt comes across an article involving the smallpox virus. “On this day of the year 2017 Starlight Laboratories of Cumberland, Maryland has confirmed that they have in their possession over forty vials of the variola virus, the causative agent of smallpox disease. Smallpox disease has been eradicated for nearly forty years thanks to the use of mandated vaccinations so an outbreak could lead to an epidemic. The laboratory states that they will indeed dispose of the vials properly in order to prevent any release into the environment which may in turn expose residents of the city. State laboratory officials say that the community has no need to panic and the vials will be disposed of within the next week.”
     Emmitt’s heart races as he reads and rereads the article. He remembers back in his college days learning about how blankets infected with the smallpox virus were distributed to Native American tribes by the British. Since the Native Americans had never been exposed to the virus previously, the blankets they had been given were infecting each person that came into contact with them which in turn resulted in mass casualties. Emmitt believed he had finally found the final characteristic he was looking for and was determined to use it even though the virus has been eradicated for nearly forty years. He looks at the publication date of the article which is marked for July 13th. He looks at the bottom right corner of his laptop. “July 17th…there may still be hope.” 
     Emmitt opens his notebook and writes down the URL and Starlight Laboratories information. He hopes to convince his boss to acquire at least a couple of the smallpox vials for his genetic testing on Bacillus anthracis. He plans on telling him the truth in that it will be used to determine if it would be a good viral vector for the organism, he just doesn’t plan on telling him it will be put to the test on actual human test subjects. With smallpox being such a taboo virus he hopes obtaining the vials will be much easier than he thinks. He shuts his notebook and laptop, wiping them down with sterile wipes before setting them aside to finish cleaning up. Emmitt removes his PPE and thoroughly washes his hands before gathering his items and exiting the laboratory. A huge weight has finally lifted from his chest and he can go home knowing there may be hope still yet! 


-2-
     The next day Emmitt feels rejuvenated and ready to face his boss with the issue. He allows everyone time to come in and get started on their work for an hour or so before he makes his way to the laboratory director’s office. Emmitt comes to the door and pauses when he realizes his boss is on the phone. His boss motions him in to have a seat and that he will be only a moment. As Emmitt takes a seat he realizes he hasn’t actually formulated a plea. While scrambling for the right words he is interrupted by his thoughts.
“And Mr. Straine, what can I do for you today?” the lab director asked as he replaced the telephone in the receiver.
“Well I was hoping you could help me Dr. Moore. You see, I’m in sort of a dilemma when it comes to the genomic research for anthracis.”
“I see,” Dr. Moore followed.
“Well, I was thinking last night ‘If I were a biological terrorist, what would I do to make this more deadly?’”
“And…?”
“Viral vectors!” Emmitt states with enthusiasm. He was now no longer trying to sell his plea, but was speaking with such genuine enthusiasm that Dr. Moore was immediately hooked. “What if we used some sort of virus in order to possibly manipulate the disease into becoming communicable?”
“…..go on.”
“Well, as I was researching last night on viruses I came across a laboratory in the town of Cumberland, Maryland…”
“Yeah, I know where that is.”
“Well, the laboratory there, Starlight Laboratories, found in their possession over forty vials of the variola virus. How amazing is that?!” Emmitt places the address and phone number of Starlight Laboratories on his boss’s desk. 
Dr. Moore’s face stiffened a little. “Variola virus has been completely eradicated for years, Straine. I don’t believe this is legit.”
“Yes forty to be exact, and throughout the public, but these are vials that contain the actual virus that had been in storage all this time. They have already been tested and verified but the laboratory personnel claim they will properly dispose of them sometime this week.”
Dr. Moore stares at Emmitt, thinking long and hard about what he is suggesting. Dr. Moore lets out a huge sigh and folds his hands on top of his desk. “So let’s just get to the chase, Mr. Straine. You are wanting me to obtain forty vials of a virus that has supposedly been completely eradicated from the world for over forty years, just so that you can put your theory to the test?”
Emmitt’s enthusiasm drops significantly while he thinks of a response. “Well, not forty. Maybe ten…or even…”
“Oh,” Dr. Moore cuts him off, “ten vials. Okay that is much more reasonable. Let me rephrase. You are wanting me to obtain ten vials of a virus that has been completely eradicated from the world for forty years, just to put your personal theory to the test?”
“Listen, I know it sounds farfetched and is most likely impossible,”
“It is.” Dr. Moore interrupted.
“but if those vials get disposed of who’s to say there won’t be any more research needed on the variola virus later in the future. Vials of the virus are available as of right now. You stated yourself the virus has been eradicated for forty years. Forty years! And vials have been found. What if something happens later on down the road like some sociopath comes across vials stashed just as these were and decides to see if they truly are the smallpox virus, or something maybe even worse? We will have nothing to use as a resource. If we had a few vials, we would be set.”
Dr. Moore contemplated his statement for a few minutes before speaking, “if I do this, IF, you do know that you will not be qualified for a raise since it is your hypothesis you are testing, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“And you do know that if some sort of legal issues arise due to obtaining the vials, or even possible airborne contamination leading to the infection of you or your fellow employees, you WILL BE the responsible party?”
“Yes sir. I am only wanting to try this because I have had no luck with anything since I have been here.”
“Oh I know, I know.” Dr. Moore replies. Emmitt knows he is referring to his failures and not his reasoning behind wanting the variola vials.
After sitting and staring awkwardly for what seemed like ten minutes, Dr. Moore finally gave Emmitt Straine the answer he had been looking for.
“I will make the call for the request, but if approved YOU will be responsible for the transportation of the vials. You will be responsible for ANYTHING related to the variola virus, you got that?”
“Yes sir. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” replies Dr. Moore, “I still have a call to make.”


-3-
     The majority of “hackers” in this day and age are most likely involved in computer software, but is that the true meaning of a hacker?  If one were to look up the word “hacker,” many different definitions would be presented. Basic web results state that a hacker is “a person who uses computers to gain unauthorized access to data.” The Merrium-Webster dictionary provides four different definitions from “a person who is inexperienced or unskilled at a particular activity” to “an expert who illegally gains access to and sometimes tampers with information in a computer system.” The Free Dictionary says a hacker is “one who is proficient at using or programming a computer” or “one who uses programming skills to gain illegal access to a computer network or file.” Although these are all “different” definitions, all pose the same meaning…a hacker is just a person who illegally uses their expertise in computers to gain information. 
     Emmitt himself could be considered a hacker. He has tampered here and there with the medical devices the laboratory has on hand. His favorite one to hack is the Roche 8000, a chemistry analyzer that had issues long before Emmitt even got a hold of it. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to work with the actual machine, however he is able to hack into the system and cause it to go berserk for a while until someone is able to fix it. For example, one time he wrote up a program to cause the machine to falsely alarm after exactly six racks bypass the loading scanner. At another time he was able to have the machine reject only certain samples that started with the letter, “C.” He would also always leave his penname, “Foxglove,” for the sole purpose of saying, “I was here.” Emmitt found tampering with the machines entertaining in the beginning, but it became a necessity to keep all eyes off of him whenever he began manipulating the genome of Bacillus anthracis. This kept most everyone busy trying to figure out how to fix the machine as opposed to being curious and asking him questions about his latest project. Computers are not the only thing that can be tampered with, and Emmitt knows this all too well. He has been tampering with genomic sequences for years without even the slightest recognition. So, due to these misinforming definitions and his extreme ego, Emmitt longs to revolutionize the true meaning of the word hacker; an individual who has the ability and/or expertise to manipulate one entity in the hopes of creating or obtaining another. 
     After just two days, Emmitt now has possession of not ten but twelve variola virus vials, so he is ready to put his genetic hacking to the test. With rhabdovirus samples and now the variola vials Emmitt has the ability to create the perfect viral vector, if he can accomplish it. Having only three days to spare (the other two will be needed for regrowth of his organism), he needs to figure out how to combine the two viruses and incorporate Foxglove into them for transmission of the deadliest disease-causing agent the world has ever seen.


-4-
     Every evening after his shift Emmitt Straine waited around until the last employee left the laboratory. Hours of sleep were replaced with hours of constant research and genetic manipulation yet the viral vector is still not complete so there is still a lot of work which needs to be done. The lack of work on Sunday caused him to miss valuable hours, however the Foxglove microbe was in the incubator and ready for its vector, once created. He is now walking into the laboratory and it is Monday morning, the day before his departure. Knowing there is not much time left he goes ahead and works on the Foxglove vector during his shift. He is so close; it would be a shame to call it quits now. 
     While working at the fume hood he gets interrupted by a fellow employee, “Boss needs ya in his office, man.” Emmitt’s heart starts pounding…did he figure it out? Had he finally been caught…and right before he could even launch his plan into action? All that time…all that research…all those long hours…for nothing but a prison sentence? Emmitt tries to swallow the lump in his throat, “…right, thanks dude,” he says. He takes off all of his PPE, washes his hands, and heads to Dr. Moore’s office.
     Dr. Moore was sitting behind the desk waiting for him. “Please, shut the door Mr. Straine, and have a seat.” With a deep breath Emmitt closes the door cautiously, not sure if he should start coming up with some BS excuse or begin begging for forgiveness and no calls to the feds. He turns around with his head kept down and takes a seat in front of Dr. Moore.
“Mr. Straine, let me ask you something, and I want the honest to God truth, now.”
“Yes doctor,” Emmitt replies, making quick eye contact before returning his eyes to the front of the desk.
“Do you take me for a fool?” asks Dr. Moore and causing Emmitt’s eyes to return to his. 
“NO sir!”
“Honestly, do you think I am so stupid that I would not catch on at some point?”
Emmitt struggles to find the words, “Sir…I…no, I don’t take you for a fool. I just…I’m sorry sir. I guess I am just so curious, and I never really…”
“Curious?! Hmpf…you’re a genius, Straine!” Dr. Moore interrupts.
“…wait, what?”
“You’re a genius! I just don’t know why you kept your talents hidden, and for so long too.”
“Well, I…I didn’t think it would be smart to tell, I guess.”
“Well, I wish you would’ve said something. I would have had you work on that old one I had a couple of years ago before just throwing it out. I loved that thing!” Dr. Moore says as he folds his hands together on his desk.
“Huh? I’m sorry, I mean…I’m not sure exactly what you’re talking about doctor.”
“Oh, don’t act so innocent! I know what you have been doing on your free time.”
“You do?” Emmitt asks, curious but beginning to get a little flustered.
“Yeah, everyone knows, meaning you won’t get away with it again. Something else goes wrong or another alarm sounds for no reason, you will be the first person they run to. I don’t know if I should promote you, demote you, or throat punch you. Hours and hours wasted on trying to reverse whatever program you came up with next for those machines. I have to say, aside from halting our production, you have quite a sense of humor Straine.” Replies Dr. Moore before giving Emmitt a one man slow clap.
Now caught up on what Dr. Moore has been ranting about for the past ten minutes, Emmitt breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Moore. I didn’t mean for it to cause any issues, I just thought it would be funny is all. I won’t do it again, you have my word.” If all goes well…you’ll never see me again TO have to worry about it repeating, Emmitt thought. 
“I know you won’t, because from now on those guys out there are going to look to you for every little thing that goes wrong with the machines. They have it in their head now that if something breaks, ‘it’s Straine’s fault’ and if an alarm sounds, ‘it’s Straine joking around again.’ You can look forward to being our very own personal IT from now on Mr. Straine. That in itself I believe to be punishment enough…those Roche machines are a piece of work aren’t they.”
“Yes sir, yes they are.” Relieved that Moore had no idea about his true secret eased his mind. He can go back to his fume hood and finish up the viral vectors he has been working on since morning. 
“And I suppose that if I myself have any issues with my computer in here, I can call you in?”
Not much of a question but Emmitt nodded granting approval.
“Great! Until then Mr. Straine.” Dr. Moore says with a large grin stretching across his face.
Emmitt moves to the edge of his seat, “so, is that everything?” he asks, hoping it is.
“Yep, I think we’ve spoke enough.” Dr. Moore says as they both get to their feet and extend arms to shake hands.
“Well, thank you doctor for being so understanding,” says Emmitt as he makes his way to the office door.
“Hey, it might be a surprise to you but I was quite the jokster back in my day as well.”
Emmitt gives a small chuckle as he begins to head out of the office and back to his work.
“Oh, yes one more thing Mr. Straine.”
“Yeah?” asks Emmitt, turning back to Dr. Moore.
“How’s your anthrax/variola vector project coming along?”
Emmitt, unable to contain his pleasure nor the smile appearing across his face, replies enthusiastically, “It’s wonderful! I believe I have something and that it could very well be the greatest scientific discovery the world has ever seen.”
“That’s terrific! Keep up the good work Straine.”
“Thank you Dr. Moore. Have a good day.” Emmitt states as he begins to close the door.
“And you have a good vacation Emmitt,” Moore says just as Emmitt shuts the office door behind him.
     Emmitt makes his way back to the fume hood and replaces his PPE. He feels much more comfortable working on Foxglove at work now since Dr. Moore doesn’t suspect anything. He begins going over his PCRs. It is time to kick this plan into action.


-5-
     Once again, Emmitt waits as the last scientist exits the laboratory doors. He waits about ten minutes until exiting the laboratory himself, grabbing a dolly, and making his way out to his car. He opens the trunk and one by one places the large boxes on the dolly. He will have to come back to get the other three from off the back seat since the rest couldn’t fit. There are five boxes total and they contain 2,500 tee-shirts a piece, making 10,000 shirts in all. Although there will be a lot more people at DEF CON than 10,000, he knows after updating Foxglove with the viral vector that it will be easily transmitted through the air as well as from person to person with no trouble. 
     After making his way back into the laboratory with the final boxes Emmitt puts on his PPE and begins working. He first ensures that the viral vector will take in Foxglove. This takes about an hour and a half because conditions have to be just right. He then makes a suspension of the updated Foxglove microbe with a 10% saline solution. While still working within the fume hood Emmitt raises the flask and watches intently as Foxglove drifts to the bottom. He swirls the flask and sets it on the agitator while he unboxes the tee-shirts. After opening the flap of the first cardboard box he grabs a shirt and raises it up, unfolding it in the process.
     On the front of the tee-shirt is a cartoon-like fox with safety glasses and a lab coat. The fox is putting on gloves and has a laptop sitting on the desk beside him. The screen on the laptop says, “There are many ways to be a HACKER.” The background of the screen is black and the writing is a bright green digital font that connects together like the results of an electrocardiogram test. The shirt itself is black and it turned out better than Emmitt ever imagined. He was so happy he couldn’t contain his excitement and placed two of the shirts on his desk before returning to the fume hood. 
     The Foxglove solution was now a cloudy color after agitation which showed it was evenly distributed and ready as a spray. Emmitt transfers the solution from the flask to a spray bottle and secures the bottle tightly. He primes the bottle and sets it to the side. He tips the box of shirts upside down so that they all come out onto the floor. One by one Emmitt sprays the shirts and puts them back into the box, making sure not to saturate them too much.
     After all boxes are refilled with shirts he secures them with the wide shipping tape he brought to work in his backpack. He then makes his way back to the fume hood, opens the spray bottle and adds some extremely potent disinfectant to the remaining solution before placing it in the biohazard. Emmitt then loads the boxes one by one onto the dolly and proceeds to set them outside Dr. Moore’s office. Luckily, Dr. Moore agreed to have them expedited to Caesar’s Palace, the hotel where the conference is taking place, under one condition: he must receive a shirt as well. 
     After loading up his Foxglove shirts he makes his way back to his desk to grab his notebook, backpack, and anything else he deems important. At last, Emmitt grabs the shirt he left out from underneath the fume hood and takes a sticky note from his desk. “Dr. Moore,” he begins, “I want to thank you so much for having these shipped. Also, great news! The viral vector works! You will see it in action soon. Thanks again, Straine.” He places the sticky note on top of the shirt before placing it in the basket outside of Dr. Moore’s office. “You will see it in action VERY soon,” Emmitt thinks to himself as he takes off his gloves. He grabs his items and gives the laboratory one final look before leaving. Emmitt Straine then locks the large metal doors and knows in his heart that this will be the last time he will ever set foot in the lab again.
     One Emmitt makes it home he lays everything on the lawn chair before heading into the house. Instead of his usual routine (food, shower, bed), Emmitt walks straight to the bathroom, strips to his bare body, and grabs the hair clippers from underneath of the sink. Without thinking twice about it, he plugs in the clippers and begins. The first to go is the hair on his head, then his eyebrows, then his beard, and so on and so forth. He doesn’t worry much about the hair that won’t be seen, such as that on his chest, but he does make sure everything visible is shaved completely. After his shower he packs his bag and sets his alarm for 3:30 am. 


-6-
     *BEEP, BEEP, BEEP* Emmitt reaches across the bed to the side table and hits the snooze button. He should have already been up and out of the door by now but this may be the last time he gets a good night’s rest in his own bed so he plans on enjoying it for as long as possible. As he lies in bed he begins to play scenarios over and over again in his head. At one point he imagines that even though he paid for expedited shipping, his shirts don’t arrive on time. Then he imagines that the security officers at the airport suspect him of something and refuse to allow him to board the plane. In another image he sees himself handing out every last shirt and within just a couple of days the disease begins showing symptoms and the entire conference has gone mad. Of course, this is his intent – his dream so to speak – but by the end of the conference he too has contracted Foxglove and is just as ravenous and zombie-like as the others even after all the precautions he takes.
     The alarm goes off once more and Emmitt decides it is time to get up. He throws on the clean Foxglove shirt he laid out specifically for himself and grabs a pair of board shorts, “the least I stand out the better.” After placing all the necessities in his pockets – wallet, car keys, and cell phone – he heads into the bathroom for some final touches. On the sink is a pair of small nail clippers he uses to trim his eyelashes as close to his lids as possible, both the top and the bottom lids. He then opens the medicine cabinet and grabs the eyeshadow pallet he bought about two months ago. Disregarding the applicator completely he moves his finger across the dark brown shadow several times and rubs it underneath of his eyes. After both eyes are finished he examines his face closely. Although he does in fact look sick, it is not good enough. Emmitt takes some toilet paper and dabs excess shadow from under his eyes before applying some dark purple as well. He then mixes this with some pink and a little more brown, rubs them together all around his eyes and determines he is now pleased with the result. Emmitt’s eyes now look sunken in and tired…exactly what Emmitt intended. After he is satisfied completely with his new look he turns off the lights, wraps the eyeshadow pallet up in a shirt inside of his large bag, and with a smile makes his way out the door. 


-7-
          It is now almost 6:00 am and Emmitt has arrived at the airport. Before going in he grabs out of his carry on a face mask and looks in the mirror. “Perfect,” he thinks before grabbing the bag and getting out of the vehicle. He grabs his larger bag from off the back seat along with a cane he had picked up on the way. He shuts the doors, locks them, and begins walking alongside his cane into the airport. 
     Emmitt notices a lot of people looking, watching him as he makes his way to his designated flight area. He doesn’t like this because he doesn’t want someone to notice he is a fraud, but deep down he enjoys the attention. He finally makes it to his designated area and while standing in line he leans on his cane acting as if the short walk from outside to here has caused him to lose his breath. Not long after his blockbuster act he feels his larger bag being taken from his hand followed by someone behind him saying, “I got this.” He turns slightly and realizes he is face to face with one of the most famous DEF CON members, Jayson Street. 
“Don’t worry…just helping. So, Vegas huh?”
Nervously, Emmitt nods his head. “Yeah…I haven’t missed DEF CON since I started going about 5 years ago. A person can’t allow his disabilities take over his life.”
“That’s for sure. Well, kudos to you man for coming. If you need anything at all, I’m your guy. You can come to me for whatever you need and I’ll try my best to help ya.”
“Next!” the lady at the desk yells in a voice which sounds annoyed. 
Emmitt, using his cane, makes his way to the desk. “Hello!” Emmitt states cheerfully.
The lady just stares at him before asking, “Documentation?”
Emmitt pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and finds his license and plane ticket. He hands his documentation to the lady before turning to Jayson and rolling his eyes. Jayson smirks. 
“Make your way around the desk, place your bags on the conveyor belt, and remove all items in your possession. You can place those items in a basket and allow those items to also run on the belt. If there are no questions please head on your way.”
Emmitt grabs his documentation and takes his bag from Jayson before walking to the inspection area. With some help from one of the security officers Emmitt places his bags on the conveyor belt and removes all items from his pockets. His nerves are working him over double time as he makes his way through the metal detectors. 
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Emmitt’s heart begins to race. Although he has nothing on him right now to tie him to Foxglove, other than wearing one of his premade shirts of which he is very proud of, he is still very nervous. Beads of sweat begin appearing across his forehead. The large security officer makes him step to the side and asks him to stretch out his arms and legs. The wand reacts to Emmitt’s face realizing it must be the metal piece within the facemask that forms to his nose.
“You’re free to proceed,” the officer states before motioning Emmitt to move on. Emmitt grabs his items from his basket along with his carryon and makes his way to the line to board onto the plane. A few minutes later he hears Jayson behind him.
“So dude, I never caught your name.” says Jayson while extending his hand.
“Emmitt,” he replies while taking Jayson’s gesture and shaking his hand, “Emmitt Straine.”
“Well Emmitt Straine, if you need anything remember to come to me. I will help you out in any way I can.”
“Well…” Emmitt began before quickly changing his mind.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, never mind. It’s not a big deal, really.”
“No man, tell me. What do you need? If I can’t help ya I’m sure I can find someone who can.”
“Well,” Emmitt began again, “I have always wanted to expand on my hacking knowledge but never really knew how to begin. I was hoping someone may pick me up as a sort of intern or something during this conference.”
“Yeah…” replies Jayson keeping Emmitt aware he is listening.
“Yeah, and in hopes of really getting my name out there in the hacking world I created my own logo and everything.” Emmitt motions to the shirt he is sporting. “I have always been fond of the medical aspect of hacking so that is all I really know.”
“Dude, that shirt is sweet! Congrats man.”
“Thanks,” Emmitt says, “I had it approved for sale at DEF CON this year so that hopefully my name as a hacker will be out there for all to recognize.”
“Kudos to you man. How much you selling them for?”
“I was thinking eight or maybe even ten dollars. Just as a way make back the money I spent on them in the first place.” Emmitt says before producing a slightly nervous chuckle. 
“Dude, save me one. Extra-large if you can, and I will pay you when we get there.”
“Awesome, I’ll do that.” 
     After Emmitt and Jayson make their way onto the plane, they exchange numbers quickly before finding their seats. Once Emmitt is comfortable he pulls out his ear buds and begins listening to music. It is going to be a long trip and he has big plans once they land so he plans to get as much rest as he can before finally setting his ultimate plan into motion. Before drifting off to sleep Emmitt imagines a room full of DEF CON members running and screaming in pure chaos; a nightmare to most but a sweet dream for him.


-8-
     After arriving in Vegas and checking into the hotel, one would assume Emmitt Straine would be out and about seeing the sights and experiencing as much as he can, and this would be far from the truth. After receiving the key to his room Emmitt makes his way to the twelfth floor and begins settling in. He thinks about the plan, running it over and over again through his head, wondering what he could do to perfect it. The long thought process eventually put him to sleep. 
     When he wakes up he notices how dark it is in the room. He picks up his cell phone: 9:53 pm. No use in trying to get a head start now. He gets out of bed, turns on the light, and takes a seat at the desk in front of his laptop. He puts in his email and password and searches his inbox. Although there are 999+ emails only one in particular is of concern and it is from Dr. Moore. Emmitt clicks on the email and begins to read:
	Mr. Straine,
	     I am just wanting to let you know that I have sent your packages to the address you provided and also made sure the carrier was aware that it was to be expedited. It should be arriving tomorrow and no later than the day after. I also want to thank you for setting one out for me. I admire your artistic abilities. Good luck and I hope you have a great time in Vegas!
      Dr. Moore
     Whereas most individuals would be thrilled to have received a compliment from their boss Emmitt was thrilled only of one thing: the fact that Dr. Moore was oblivious to his plan! Emmitt logged off of his email account and decided to go ahead and go to bed. He had a long day tomorrow and he didn’t want to be tired for it.
     Although DEF CON would not technically be open for set up until 9:30 am, Emmitt was up and ready for the day. He paid extra attention to his makeup today, not wanting to stray too far from how it looked yesterday but also wanting to make it look more believable so that there will be no questions. Finally, he tops off his look with a face mask and cane. Satisfied, he grabs his bag and laptop and heads downstairs to set up his table. 
     When Emmitt makes it into the lobby he asks the front desk if they have received any packages for “Straine,” and if they could take it to the conference room. After speaking with the front desk Emmitt goes to the conference room and awaits the arrival of his shirts. “This is it,” he thinks, “there’s no turning back now.” He places his laptop on his table and begins. “DEF CON wants a hacker? I’m gonna give ‘em one!” 
     Just as he is making his way into Caesar’s computer system the front desk worker arrives with two of his packages and tells him he will be back with the others. Before opening the boxes Emmitt wants to make sure he can manipulate the ductwork just right so that not only does Foxglove make an appearance at the conference…but throughout the entire building. This means that Emmitt will have to keep his face mask on at all times if he wants to continue to live. Hacking the security system was a breeze and after just a few small changes Emmitt was able to change the ductwork above his table from putting out air to taking it in. This will allow the spores of Foxglove to enter the air duct and be transmitted throughout the hotel. 
     When satisfied with his work he begins opening boxes one by one and laying them out on the table according to size. He decides to go ahead and place a small eight dollar price tag on the front of the table even though he would be losing out on about fifty dollars. It is important that people see the shirt and buy it as opposed to just admiring it and moving on. While setting up his table he is greeted by a woman who is another well-known DEF CON associate, Nikita Kronenberg. 
“Good morning,” she says extending a hand, “I’m Nikita!”
“Morning, Emmitt Straine,” he says as he takes her hand in his. 
“So…Foxglove, huh? What is that?”
Oh, you will know soon enough, Emmitt thinks as he takes back his hand. “Oh, just a penname I created for myself for my work. I really want to get my name out there to the hacking public so I figured what better way to appeal to the industry than designing a shirt.”
“Cool! I’ll take one to help your cause,” she says with a slight giggle. Emmitt smiles and hands her a shirt.
“How much?”
“No, you keep it. As long as you wear it on one of the upcoming conference days that is.”
“Sure, thanks!”
“No problem,” Emmitt replies. “Well, I had better continue setting up. It was nice to finally meet you Ms. Kronenburg.”
“Oh no, call me Nikita. And the same goes for you.”
     Emmitt finishes his setup and is way too excited for the days to come. He can only imagine what Foxglove is capable of and within the next few days he will finally see firsthand his creation at work. Emmitt goes to bed early that night but never truly sleeps…he is cautious that his mask doesn’t shift from his face. The last thing he needs is to be the firsthand example of Foxglove.


-9-
     The next morning Emmitt is beyond excited. He grabs his items and heads for the conference room as soon as he awakens. There are more people present than he could ever have imagined and from all walks of life, brought together in one large room breathing in Emmitt’s success without even knowing it. Nikita greets him and sits at her table while wearing the Foxglove shirt she received yesterday. He can’t help but to stare since he is wondering how long it will take for her to experience any of the symptoms: hemorrhagic fever, cutaneous sores at various places of the body, an urge to ingest human flesh. With each though Emmitt Straine becomes more and more excited. 
     After the excitement begins to wear off Emmitt starts to become bored sitting at the table and waiting for someone to decide to purchase a shirt. Although he has sold quite a few this morning so far he was hoping to sell more. Not that a large amount need to be sold in order for transmission to take place, but in order for a wider range of transmission to ensue. Once the day of DEF CON is over he heads back up to his room for an evening of rest and relaxation. He doesn’t want to venture out too much since he is trying to keep a pretty low profile at the moment. That night Emmitt sleeps soundly with his face mask having shifted to his chin…


-10-
     Emmitt wakes up the next morning and notices he had slept throughout the night without protection. Though he wanted more than anything for his hacking into the ductwork to be able to transmit Foxglove throughout the hotel, he now hopes it doesn’t work. The last thing he needs is to become infected, especially at this point in his research. Nervously, he makes his way downstairs for DEF CON day two hoping he doesn’t acquire any symptoms. 
     When he arrives at the conference room he can’t help but notice that Nikita is not truly herself today. A usually peppy and cheerful spirit she hasn’t really noticed him…or anyone for that matter. Emmitt notices that when someone comes up to speak to her she isn’t truly there. She answers their questions and often stares distantly into space. By lunchtime her eyes have went from beautiful and bright to dull and red. She continues to scratch her skin for what seems to be no apparent reason. Eventually, Emmitt becomes nosy. 
“Nikita, are you okay?” he asks, concerned more about how she is reacting to the disease as opposed to how she is truly feeling. She doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even look at him.
“Nikita?” He asks again, this time getting her attention.
     Slowly Nikita turns her head to face Emmitt. Her eyes, now red and swollen, seem to pierce through him. She begins to try and move her lips but nothing comes. He asks her again if she is okay but no answer. She then starts making noises and Emmitt realizes that she wasn’t trying to speak but instead trying to breathe. She begins to cough and blood starts running from her nose and spurting from her mouth. For a second Emmitt feels terrified but soon that terror is overcome with satisfaction. 
     People who are around the tables begin to notice how Nikita is acting and rush to her side. Soon she begins convulsing and falls out of the chair in what looks to be a seizure. While one person is trying to do CPR another is yelling for her to be turned to her side. She begins coughing more and more and blood begins spraying from her mouth. Soon her movements diminish and she is staring yet again blankly into space. 
     When the ambulance arrives they take her vitals and declare her deceased just seconds before she blinks. After that final blink rage engulfs her body and she begins attacking anyone who is around her, scratching and biting anyone in arms reach.
     Horrified, DEF CON members begin exiting the conference room like a herd of antelope in the wild running from a lion. Emmitt grabs his laptop and bag then squeezes himself into the crowd in hopes of making it to his room before any cops arrive. After he finally exits the conference room he decides that instead of going back to his room he will venture forth into the city of Las Vegas. Not wanting to stick around for the cops or having to clime twelve flights of stairs, he felt as though this were his best bet. 
     After being gone for nearly four hours Emmitt begins making his way back to Caesar’s Palace. Although the ambulance has left there are still four cop cars positioned in front of the building. Emmitt makes his way in only to find that the cops are still there because they are helping clean up the bloody mess that once was a conference room. He walks to the elevator swiftly but still trying to remain calm and act normal. 
     Once he is on the elevator he breathes a sigh of relief. Although there is not anything to point to him so far, he still remains cautious and nervous of the whole thing. The elevator stops on the eighth floor only to pick up a man who also seems to possess the early symptoms that Nikita did. For the next four floors Emmitt keeps his eyes on the soon to turn zombie guy that is sharing the elevator with him, worried that he may not make it to the twelfth floor in time. As soon as the elevator stops Emmitt says “excuse me” and rushes out into the hall. Hurriedly he unlocks his room, shuts the door, and locks every single lock the door contains before putting his stuff on the desk and turning on the television.  
     Luckily for Emmitt he didn’t have to go searching. The story was being broadcasted on every single local station and by different news anchors on each one. All channels stated the same facts: woman takes massive seizure after contracting a vicious hemorrhagic fever before turning mad and attacking anyone in her path, eventually being executed by police after disregarding their wishes for her to calm down. “Vicious,” Emmitt repeats to himself proudly, “his first complement regarding Foxglove.” 
     Although he would love to stick around and watch as the chaos ensues throughout the next few days, he assesses the situation and thinks it would be best if he just went ahead and left Vegas as soon as possible. He can only imagine what has happened back home in the laboratory! No one speaks to him so he hasn’t heard anything from anyone but he assumes that pretty much the same thing has happened there as it did here, only most likely a day earlier. 
     He wonders about his shirts and whether or not he should leave them or toss them. He doesn’t believe that anything will trace back to his shirts, unless the coroner finds any spores on the shirt Nikita was wearing. There will surely be an autopsy and most likely the discovery of unidentifiable spores within her body, but unless the coroner can determine the spores originated from the shirt itself than Emmitt has nothing to be afraid of. He also believes that everyone would understand him leaving the shirts after the event which took place. They will probably think he was just in a hurry to get out of the place and get away from the craziness. 
     Once making his decision Emmitt shuts the television off and begins gathering up all of his belongings. He calls a taxi for a ride to the airport so that he can make it there as soon as possible. When he arrives at the airport he notices that all of the televisions are turned on to the news. Apparently there has been a total of eleven attacks and the numbers keep growing. No details have risen on what is causing these people to turn ravenous…or as the public is calling them, zombies. Emmitt stares at one of the televisions for a while before realizing he is wasting valuable time. He finally makes his way to the desk clerk and pays for the next flight to Pittsburgh. 
     While sitting in the waiting area, Emmitt picks a spot in front of the television to see if any new stories arise. Only one more incident occurs before Emmitt’s flight is ready, but at least Foxglove is spreading wonderfully. Once on the plane Emmitt begins to relax. Even though he is still not in the clear as of yet, he leans back in his chair and tries to relax. 
     After about an hour of flying Emmitt is awaken by an excruciating headache and excessive urge to scratch his skin. Beginning to panic Emmitt makes his way to the restroom of the plane. After placing his hands on top of the sink he looks at himself in the mirror. He takes off the face mask and realizes that his eyes are as red as Nikita’s were before she went berserk. He grasps his head in his hands, “no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen!” 
     At about this time he begins to feel the urge to vomit. He raises the lid of the small commode and allows what he can to come out. The metallic taste in his mouth only confirms his assumption that the bright red substance in the toilet is blood. He begins coughing loudly and more violently. 
“Sir, are you okay in there?” a woman asks from outside the door.
Emmitt cannot respond. He is fighting for his life. 
There is pounding on the door now, “Sir?!”
     Emmitt struggles to reach the door only being able to unlock it right before he falls to the floor and begins his convulsions. Those individuals who are around the area rush to his aid. Emmitt is coughing and spirting blood all over the place while CPR is attempted. After about twenty minutes or so of working on him, the nurse onboard determines Emmitt is deceased. The nurse puts a blanket over Emmitt’s body and is helped by a passenger to move the body to an area in the very back of the plane. As the nurse and the passenger try to position Emmitt respectfully away from the other passengers, the blanket slips revealing his face. His eyes are a deep red and blood remains all over his face. Startled the nurse closes Emmitt’s eyes before grabbing the end of the blanket to throw back over his head. Before the blanket is fully replaced Emmitt’s eyes open and stare straight into the eyes of the nurse who lets out a blood curdling scream…


Title: Foxglove
By: Kelsi Cornwell
From: Diana, West Virginia
For: DEF CON 25 Short Story Contest