Free Cross of the Legion by Marshall S. Thomas Page A

knees in a dark grassy field between our tree line and the school. I did not like the look of it.
    "No life in the school. No other life in the vicinity. Sky is clear."
    "Thank you, Sweety." No life in the school—deto! That was where the Nova had come from. Yes, it was a young female, moving her arms, rocking back and forth on her knees.
    "Psycho, on me," Dragon ordered. "We investigate. Cover me. Pits, cover us."
    "Tenners."
    We broke out of the cover of the dead forest and approached her, striding through scorched grass. It was still raining lightly. My skin crawled. We were totally exposed out in the field. I kept her covered with my E as Dragon advanced on her. She was a slim young midschooler with shoulder-length brown hair, clad in a thin sleeveless pullover, shorts, and liteshoes. She did not even appear to be aware of us. She was examining her arms. Then she snapped her head up, spotted us, and froze.
    "We're the Legion," Dragon said. "Don't be afraid. You'll be all right now. Are there any other humans in the vicinity?" She stared at him like a bird facing a snake. Then she suddenly began to tremble, raising her shaking arms convulsively. Her face and arms were covered with scratches. Her mouth opened and emitted an agonized whimper. She began scratching frantically at her forearms, moaning wordlessly. Then she presented them for us to see. Her twitching arms were covered with scratches and welts.
    "What's the matter?" Dragon asked, lowering his E. "What's wrong with you?" She burst into tears, balled her hands into fists, and screamed, an unearthly shriek of horror. She resumed scratching desperately at her arms, drawing blood, ripping long deep scars in her flesh with broken fingernails.
    "Stop it," Dragon said, seizing her by one arm. "What's wrong? We can help you—DD, on me!" She screamed, fighting to escape Dragon's grasp, tearing at her face, thrashing around in the grass. Doctor Doom came running and I helped Dragon hold the girl down as Doom examined her. She screamed, hysterical, struggling frantically to escape.
    DD gave her a sedative and she slowly calmed down but still rolled her head around, moaning in agony.
    "What's wrong with her, Doc?"
    "Look at this, Dragon," DD said, examining one of the girl's arms. I bent closer to see it. The arm was covered with little greenish-white spots. As we watched, more of them began to appear. The girl shrieked again. She was in agony.
    "Deadman! What is that crud?" I gasped. Priestess appeared, shouldering me aside, ripping open her medkit.
    "Fungus!" DD exclaimed, reading his medprobe. "It's the same thing! She's in shock."
    "Zeomax and cyro," Priestess suggested. "Anti-infection and anti-shock. No choice!"
    "Yes," Doom replied. "Do it!" Priestess zapped the girl with a fast field injection. It resulted in another horrifying scream. The girl's body arched up and began trembling violently.
    "My God—look. Look!" DD had ahold of her arm. The fungus spread even as we watched, crawling over her twitching body with astonishing speed, the white spots joining, reaching out for each other, merging, thickening, advancing—over her flesh. We held her tightly—her screams were freezing my heart.
    "Deadman! Can't you do anything!" Dragon exclaimed. DD hit her with another sedative. It had no effect. She continued screaming, totally out of control, thrashing violently in our arms. The stuff was appearing all over her body now—arms, legs, face—it was multiplying with astonishing speed.
    "There's no cure," DD said grimly. "This is brand new. The probe can't even identify the fungus! We can't do better than zeomax for massive infection—it's extremely powerful!"
    Priestess brushed some of the stuff off the girl's arm with her armored fingers and slapped on a medgel pad—it made no difference. The fungus continued growing under the pad. All four of us held her down. The stuff sprouted all over her face. Her eyes were frantic. She shrieked, in total agony. My heart was