Third Installment of "Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes": The How

As the incidents of nocturnal violence increased, so did police presence—that is, until it became clear anyone, regardless of age, race, job or sex, could be the next perpetrator. People were advised to stay indoors, but then more families ended up killing each other. The last televised warning advised, “total isolation in a secure setting” i.e. no one, not even your toddler son or ancient grandmother, was to be trusted.

The general public didn't know how the information fingering Dexir was released, but by the time it was common knowledge—roughly three months after “Meat Me”—more than three-fourths of the American population had ingested Dexir in some way: used on nearly all commercial livestock, the chemical was not only in the beef, but in the chicken, the milk, the eggs.

At first globally assumed to be a contagious pathogen afflicting Americans, the rest of the world was hesitant to step in. These fears were increased by episodes like the group of Americans visiting Paris who, in the middle of the night, brutally murdered the front desk staff at their hotel. Again, they claimed not to remember anything, but after a handful more of similar occurrences—traveling Americans committing horrific nighttime crimes—the country was put on lock down.

The real difficulty with identifying the source of the problem was that, during the day, everyone was “normal”. The symptoms only emerged while the afflicted was asleep. Sleep was recognized as the enemy fairly quickly: stores sold out of No-Doze and pharmacies were looted for amphetamines. However, the necessity of sleep was impossible to deny and the population sought other solutions. One man handcuffed himself to his bed—neighbors found him several days later, having bled out after ripping his arm out of the socket and chewing it free. That is how the final solution became “total isolation in a secure setting”: protect yourself from everyone and protect everyone from you. If afflicted, the least thing you could do was take yourself out.

Not all vegetarians were safe—if you drank milk or ate eggs, you were vulnerable—but most vegans were. And, of course, there was the small contingent that only ate organic. Still, towards the end, before American television went dark, it became clear that it was something in the animal products. This message echoed through Terrence Grummer’s penthouse, images of the carnage flickering across the television screen as he ran to his computer—the internet held out about as long as cell phones—to send an email. The windows rattled as the loud banging on his bedroom door became fiercer, more desperate. He threw himself under the bed, laptop and all, typing quickly, his mind racing, trying to simplify the science of what was happening into a format that everyone would understand. His bedroom door began to splinter as he finished the email, sending it to the news station he’d been watching. He closed his computer quietly, hearing his wife finally break through the door, covered in blood from the effort but undeterred. Terrence had just started to pray—“Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”—when his wife grabbed his leg, pulling him out from under the bed. They made eye contact. She was holding a brick.

TO BE CONTINUED

note: there will probably only be one more installation