Day 2. The mounds of meat had arrived fully cooked, but Hannah had not touched it, despite its tantalising smell and appearance. It sat in front of her, but she simply gazed right though the several truckloads of alluring food. On top of this, she had not slept that night, and it was showing in the purple and red bags that drooped beneath her eyes. She didn’t want to sleep, because she knew she would not wake up and find out it was all a horrendous dream. She had maintained her foetal position all night, unable to move due to her destroyed and frazzled state of mind.
Several hundred miles away, a press conference was being set up, men and women in suits hovered like flies, setting up equipment, plugging in wires and tapping microphones, as the eager media sat near-impatiently in padded seats, complete with notepads, netbooks and cameras. One would have to be on mars to not know what had happened in Los Angeles.
It was also the second day of Jessica sitting motionless, and though she was calmer today, she still had nerves of glass as she awaited the beginning of the conference. Tom had stayed, and had invited his fiancé, Chloe, to stay, for Jessica’s sake more than anything; the poor girl was clearly close to breaking down and she needed support from family. All 3 intently watched the television, waiting for the conference to begin and for their questions to potentially at last be answered.
At last, the conference, that would inevitably be one of the most watched events in history, seemed to be getting underway. A figure with an imposing authority stepped out from the blue curtain in a black suit and rose to the podium, as the crowd went mute. He straightened his red tie and cleared his throat, his facial expression and stance stated that he knew what he was talking about, but inside, the words he had rehearsed still sounded alien and baffling to him.
“Good morning.” His voice pierced the silence. “You will all, no doubt, be aware of the incident that occurred in Hollywood, California starting at 11pm pacific on Saturday. Regrettably, the amount of research done so far has not been able to render a conclusion on why Hannah Elizabeth Ingen, aged 24, grew to a height of just over two miles tall.” The crowed murmured in an almost disappointed tone. Jessica sighed and groaned sadly, as Tom and Chloe held each other’s hands, all three intently focusing dedicatedly on the screen.
The speaker resumed. “Tests and research will continue on Miss Ingen for an indefinite amount of time, however, in the just over 24 hours since her appearance, we have been able to determine various differences between Ingen’s anatomy and the anatomy of the average human, through a small saliva sample, a piece of fingernail and several skin flakes.” Jessica leaned forwards, her levels of interest peaking as her heart thumped in her ears.
“The two primary changes in anatomy we have thus far been able to determine from the saliva sample suggest she has a stomach that can digest meat almost exclusively, and a vastly augmented immune system. Communication with Miss Ingen suggests her sense of hearing is vastly augmented also; she has demonstrated the ability to listen to and single out individuals on the ground. Tests and observation on skin samples show that…” he stopped and took a breath in, covering up a sigh “the gene that causes aging it dramatically slowed. While we are not yet sure of the implications of this, early evidence suggests this means she will age at a dramatically slower rate. We are confident that further tests and studies will reveal more anatomical changes.” He was unable to finish his sentence before the crowd erupted in a storm of questions and quibbling, the air filling with waving hands and pens. Even when augmented with a microphone, his voice was barely able to slice through the noise.
He cleared his throat to indicate his intentions to continue. “Despite attempts to nourish Miss Ingen with several thousand tons of meat, portioned to her size, she had thus far refused to eat.” Jessica silently gasped. Though she couldn’t fully contemplate the severity of the situation yet, she knew Hannah was starving herself, a thought that somehow terrified her even more than the growth.
“We will persist with attempts to nourish Miss Ingen, and all possibilities are being considered.” Whispers emitted from the crowd, as the image of a body starved to death lying on top of LA began to surface in their minds.
Looking around the crowd, the speaker announced in an authoritative tone, “The floor will now be opened to questions.” An invitation of chaos for the jittering audience; they all jumped up, vying for the speakers attention. With no logical reason to pick any one person over another, his finger pointed out to a random woman, accompanied by a “Yes, you.” After the noise had died down slightly, in a stern, near disgruntled voice, the journalist dictated bluntly, “How can you assure the public that Miss Ingen won’t rampage through what remains of Los Angles?” The question angered the trio, for they knew that Hannah was not a violent person.
The speaker had been anticipating the question. “The military are on constant standby, with full access to any weaponry necessary to pacify her. We are… confident, however, that this will not be a necessity. Miss Ingen has not demonstrated any violence or aggression, and given the evacuation of the city is near completion, we are also confident that there will be no collateral damage should such action be rendered necessary” The speaker answered, methodically and mechanically. With a subtly unimpressed expression about the journalist’s face, the rabble started once more, and another journalist was chosen; a lean, dark, tall gentleman. “David Rasheed, Nigerian Tribune.” He introduced. “What will Miss Ingen’s clothing arrangements be? The woman has been nude for two days now!” he stated, in a somewhat hostile manner, reflecting the mood towards her of many people in the crowd.
Suddenly, as a result of the bubbling feelings of hostility and curiosity from the crowd, another journalist leaped up before the speaker could begin his answer. “Where will she sleep?” and before the interruption could even register with the speaker, another rose from their chair “How is it going to bathe?” “She’s demonstrated immense strength, what if she crushes a city? Or us!” another questioned. Before anybody knew it, the entire crowd starting bellowing their questions impatiently, with no regard for order. The speaker attempted to alleviate the crowd, by collectively answering their questions, albeit vaguely. “All concerns regarding Miss Ingen’s living arrangements are being considered…” After that, he simply, yet firmly stated, “There will be no more questions at this time. Thank you” before he started walking away. As Jessica and Tom continued to watch with a dumbstruck about them, a voice could be made out from the crowd of journalists through the television. “It’s unnatural! It should die!” clearly, not the voice of a journalist, in all probability a protestor that found their way in.
Regardless of who said it, the words sliced Jessica’s heart in two, twisting and turning her insides out, making her feel quite unwell. Feeling cold and empty, she held her chest, before swarms of tears burst out of her, loudly and cuttingly. Her hands covered her face as she sniffed and sobbed. Hannah was always there for Jessica, and for anyone to not just dehumanise her, but to call for her death, shattered her fragile mental state. Chloe rushed over to her, hugging her and trying to calm her, in a very sisterly manner. Tom merely sat there, looking tired and crushed. All three felt a deep sadness, but none was showing it more than Jessica.
Jessica tried to talk, to exclaim and scream and shout and below angry remarks, but nothing came out, her sharp breathing prevented it. Chloe wiped away a tear from her face, staring into her red, puffy, moist eyes. “Hold your sister, would you? I’m going to make the poor girl some tea…She’s put up with a lot over the last two days…” Chloe near demanded of Tom in her Irish tone, which he would have done even if it were a recommendation.
Madly hysterical, Jessica bellowed out “She’s going to die, she’s going to die!” through free flowing tears and a weak voice. Tom was quick to reassure rigidly assure her “No, they’re not going to do a thing! The army will stop anyone that tries” he blurted, relatively confident of his own words. “They will not hurt my baby sister!” He confirmed, slowly, as he squeezed Jessica with brotherly love.