Ricky awoke on the exact same spot he had blacked out on. His couch. He rubbed his eyes with his grubby hands and immediately lit up a cigarette. He exhaled sending puffs of dark gray smoke into the air. “Oh yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he told himself.

Ricky snapped back to reality and tried to recall what had happened.

”..not affected by Strain 7…”

He grabbed his head and grunted.

”..give him the virus..”

Pain.

Screams of doctors.

A bright fiery light flamed. He remembered those people being hurt. But was it him? No. Why would he hurt people. Ricky stared at his hands. He gently squeezed his muscles and a massive wave of fire ejected out of his fingertips.

“Yikes!” he yelled. “I don’t remember being THAT strong.” Again he tried to shoot flames. This time longer. Again. He turned his fingers sideways. Amazingly, the fire bent to the left. “Sweet!”

He stood up and shot fire, this time trying harder. A wave of flame shot through the wall and two more after that. Great, more fire power. *