Immediately, Layton grabbed Faith's arm and blocked it, preventing her from going any further.
"What are you doing?! He needs help! Is it hot, don't you see?!" the girl continued, who was still wearing the gas mask.
"He could be infected, Faith… or even dangerous... let's avoid touching him, I doubt it's a wise choice. It's true, I think he's hot too, but he can't communicate... looks at his face, his eyes. He seems to be in another dimension, maybe he can't even hear our words!" he replied, making his comrade realize that she should not act rashly while he continued to study Klein's behaviors.
A few seconds later those words, another noise was added to that of the doctor's breath, that is, that of the bones of his back.
Moving forward with his chest and bending his back, Klein's spine creaked as if it was made of rusty iron and twisted sideways, with his legs following his movements, as if he was an invertebrate being.
After that terrifying stretch, which lasted only a few seconds, the doctor stopped again, his gaze turned towards the ceiling of the room and the pupils not yet visible, hidden under his eyelids.
His arms had stopped compulsively grasping his shirt and had popped out of the blankets: homer, radio, ulna, all the bones of the arm were clearly visible under a thin flap of skin crossed by some vein here and there.
Even the elbow protruded from that skeletal arm, so devoid of muscle that it could only move by crawling on the rest of the body or following its movements in bed.
"The company where my father worked was forced to close and fire all its employees when a man working in the administration fell ill with a new virus... his illness forced him after only two weeks to stay in bed and he continued to lose weight, failing to eat and helping himself to breathe with an oxygen tank... that man died about a month and a half later and they were unable to diagnose the disease, giving it the name of other similar pathological conditions" Layton said, continuing to look at Klein and pointing the torch at him.
"Why do you say that? Do you think the doctor has the same thing?" Faith asked, who had stayed next to Layton, remaining close to him.
"As soon as I noticed that his neck is the same diameter as my arm, I immediately thought it, yes. But it's not possible... my father told me at length about that man, saying that at first, he seemed to have nothing and that what happened to him, after several studies by some specialists, was actually a genetic disease and not transmissible, if not to his descendants ... what happened to Klein must be a completely different thing, until a few days ago he was fine and walking on his legs!"
"Remember that a few meters from our position, a man's body was ripped apart by a disease and that traces of blood led to here... by the way... where are they?" Faith asked again, recalling that out of fear of seeing that zombie-like body, they forgot to follow the tracks that had led them into that room.
Always trying to look at Klein out of the corner of his eye, Layton looked down at the floor and noticed that the dried blood, on which one of his feet was resting, continued under the doctor's bed.
He and Faith looked at each other in the eye and, after a moment of hesitation, he passed the flashlight to the girl.
Faith grabbed the object, realizing that the only brave enough to look under the bed was Layton, and tried not to tremble, keeping the light pointed at Klein, who after his sudden moves, seemed to have calmed down.
Layton put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the UV-A light flashlight, much smaller than the normal light one, just over the size of one of those red-light lasers he loved to use when he was a child.
"Keep the light on Klein, I'll see where the traces of blood lead, all right?" he exclaimed, proving to his friend that he had the courage, intent on not looking scary in her presence.
Faith nodded her head, confirming that she understood.
Without much hesitation, knowing that the more time he waited, the more fear would increase, Layton knelt beside the traces of blood he had trampled and pointed the black light of the torch to the ground.
The blood, barely visible with the normal torch, in contrast to the dark gray of the metal floor, became the usual phosphorescent green.
In addition to it, all the other biological traces present in that room that had not been cleaned for days appeared as if by magic on the floor.
Hair, body hair, even drops of saliva or something like that: like so many little stars on a clear winter night, those spots were everywhere, even on the legs of the bed.
Focusing on the trail of blood, far more visible than dirt, Layton was forced to lower his head and look under the bed, which although it had a modern and technological design, was as tall as a normal bed.
It continued for a few meters, following a swaying and discontinuous trajectory, made even more evident by the special dark light.
However, despite its discontinuity, some elements repeated themselves continuously, that is, a larger part in the center that continued in a fairly regular way and many side filaments scattered here and there, without ever moving too far from the central body.
"So, Lay? Don't be silent, I'm afraid to be up here alone... I'd say we can discard the hypothesis that the traces of blood are Hudson's, since they continue under the bed, right?" Faith said, interrupting the silence and desperately trying to interact with her partner to feel less alone.
"Ehm... yes, the space is too tight down here for a grown man, maybe you too would have a hard time sliding into it..." he replied, referring to Faith's slender and athletic body, who loved to train and keep fit in her spare time.