Dark Origins and Unlikely Heroes

Untitled Part 1

1

On a gorgeous, early June morning, twenty-five year old Socialite Arleigh Dhani stood in front of her recently polished wall-length mirror on the twenty-sixth floor of her nine- thousand, one-bedroom, one-bathroom Manhattan condo, her brand new iPhone dangling precariously on the edge of her white, porcelain sink with her fiance on the other line, his voice on speaker. She tried to listen to what he was telling her, but her thick, light blond hair had some serious frizz, so his words were losing their potency the longer he spoke.

"So you're leaving for the airport now?" she asked, leaning closer to get a better look at her new highlights she'd gotten especially for her upcoming wedding in just four days.

"In the car now," he confirmed, closing the door of his Father's black Cadillac Escalade he'd purchased less than a year ago. "Don't worry. It's only a two-day trip. I'll be home in time for my bachelor's party," he grinned at her. "And if there's time, our wedding."

She rolled her perfect light blue eyes at him, once again picking up her straightener to see if she could tame the unruly lock that wouldn't behave. "Maddening," she sighed at the hair. "Look, I'm going out, too. But there's a million things to go over with our planner."

"Your planner," he corrected, shaking his head at her. "I've had no input in this at all."

"Because you didn't want to do it," she reminded him. "It interfered with your Golf game. I don't get it, but whatever. Just gives me something else in common with the rest of the wives from your Father's company."

"But you'll be the prettiest one there," he assured her.

"Obviously," she scoffed, unplugging her straightener so she could get dressed for the day. "Just let me know you're alive throughout your trip to...where, again?" she asked, taking off her oversized, white cotton towel and tossed it on her king-sized bed.

"Some shithole in Georgia," he shrugged. "Not looking forward to it."

"Why the hell are you going to Georgia?" she asked, sneering at the State's name. "Turn it into one big NASCAR venue and set the rest on fire."

Her comments made his Father chuckle as he stopped at a red light on their way to the airport.

The fifty-five year old CEO of one of the World's largest Companies in Advanced Scientific Research, and was even partnered with the military to create live viruses and artificial chemicals for a war, should one ever arise. He was worth close to two billion dollars, and was told two days ago the most devastating live virus had been completed.

The military wanted a dry run, to see how it the virus would react once inside a live host. To find a poor, unknown town deep in the South no one would ever miss. A place surrounded by mostly stagnant water, so if it did get out of hand, it wouldn't go far.

"Whatever," she sighed, zipping up her light pink, silk sundress with white lace trim that showed off her long, slender frame. "I don't want pictures. I don't want proof that you stepped foot in that trash heap of a state," she added, now seated on her bed to pull on her white leather sandals that added another two inches to her already taller than average frame.

"It's why I intend to be shitfaced most of the time there," he agreed.

"That's how the locals must stand it," she muttered. "You better be home for the wedding. I'm pretty sure my planner is already in some kind of therapy because of me," she chuckled, beginning to apply her makeup. "I plan to make it extensive. Very, very extensive."

"That's my girl," he smiled. "See you soon."

"Bye," she said simply, hanging up.

"I like this one," his father, Cain, told his twenty-seven year old oldest son, Emerson, who nodded in agreement as he checked his phone.