The party got onto the rented bus, Ms. Spero urging them on as the sirens are going off. These sirens, of course, signify the opening of the city's exterior gates. If someone without proper protection went out of the chemical umbrella they'd boil on the cellular level. Turning to slag in mere seconds. It is one of the most painful deaths available outside of just straight up torture.
That, however, wasn't part of the parties concern as they weren't going to be out of any sort of a bubble for more than ten to fifteen minutes. As the kids shuffled to the back of the vehicle, Kirby took up a spot in the middle, letting both his mom and dad (Ms. and Mr. Spero) sit at the front, a row before him. He had only a row between him and the other kids as they chattered on about this and that.
As the sirens died down and vehicles started moving the kids became significantly quieter. They were halfway out the gates before the sirens started again.
The emergency gates slammed together with a sickening crunch and almost fully separated the outside world from the city. The only thing stopping a full lockdown was a reinforced school bus wedged in between the large metal panels consisting the now barely closed security gate.
The screeching of metal was deafening as Kirby was forced to his feet and into the rapidly approaching walls on either of his sides. Not able to even scream he sat there, both arms held tightly by the bus's exterior shell. It took a moment for the screaming and panic to ensue.
Nearby civilians flew into action as they got out of their cars to run over. They were stopped immediately by the operators and security.
The force from the shutting door made the bus take on an hourglass shape. The twelve others in the back had all broken down or fainted at this point. It was only when the operators had kept others away that they were able to get the back door open, freeing the other children. They'd tried to free Kirby but they couldn't do anything to risk dislodging the frame of the bus. If they did, it'd cause the doors to close, flattening him. So they had to look for the manual override.
Kirby sat there, stuck in like a freeze-dried sardine as the others took a safe distance behind him. Not knowing what's going on he couldn't even turn around, leaving him looking into the faces of his loving parents. Both of which were consoling the young kid as the colour slowly drained from his face. They, like him, were stuck facing forward but had managed to turn around to comfort him.
"It's going to be fine, they'll be here in a few minutes and get us out." Mr. Spero said, patting his son's head while grinning.
Ms. Spero gave a pained grimace, somewhat resembling a smile while hiding her midsection by leaning over and hugging Kirby.
They waited like that for an hour.
Both Mr. and Ms. Spero covered up Kirby more and more as the situation became more apparent. With smiles and platitudes, they comforted him. Praise and reassurance beating down on Kirby like the radiation on their backs.
Kirby knew what was going on as soon as Mr. Spere's nose started melting like a popsicle, dripping down his face. They happily embraced, more close-knit than ever before. The mother-son-father trio smiled as they knew that at least they'd die, warm and in eachothers arms.
Kirby didn't dare look when he said his final words to the people he loved most in his life. "Go-o-0-ddd n!@ht. Th-anks f-o-r ev-ryt-ng. I... love you."
He heard nothing in return but felt them hold him tighter. The feelings of contentedness he felt then let him smile. Knowing that nothing he did could change his situation he accepted it calmly.
As his parents finally went still, he finally acknowledged how warm he was, his front feeling thick, slow, and malignant. Each and every breath he took seemed to blow away thick layers of mucus from his nose. His arms had long since lost all sensation as they fused to his sides. His legs becoming a thick slurry of flesh and blood pooling beneath him and leaking out the sides of the bus. His head and torso, left covered by what was his parents remains. This left him cohesive enough to continue thinking as he gradually became liquid.
After hearing a loud bang from behind him the bus jolted backwards. The emergency doors giving momentary reprieve before slamming shut again leaving the ruined shell of the bus open in a cordoned off oval of emergency tape. Men dressed in full, tightly fit hazmat suits walked over setting up gear and a multipurpose welding set. Peeling apart the outer frame of the vehicle the closest members of the rescue team were forced to back off as litres upon litres of human sloshed onto the ground.
Some of the weaker men bent down as if to vomit in their suits as they sifted through the liquid flesh. After less than a minute of searching for anything that would signify a survivor, they found a lumpy pile of flesh and bone. An upper torso with an exposed skeleton. Something that should, by all feasibility, be nothing but a corpse at this point was shallowly breathing. Remarkably slowly the lump of animate flesh turned its skull facing the rescue team. Its head looked as if someone had slapped silly putty onto the neck of a doll and made sure it was as smooth as possible. The only defining feature on the entire face was a slit where the mouth should be.
Kirby said what he hoped to be his last words to those rescuers, "go-o-0-ddd bye."