The assembled team had been following clues across terrains on continents for a decade. The virus had decimated two-thirds of the human population. All attempts to build a vaccine failed as more died. Consensus was reached that the origin of the virus needed to be found. The rumor it was in some open air market was planted by the forces working to exterminate humans.
On a Tuesday morning, they found the cave entrance, which had been carefully concealed by shrubbery. They walked a mile through a corridor of granite that had been blasted out of the side of Mount Giger until they reached a hollowed out hall. Light poured in from an indiscernible source.
There they sat, row after row, their shriveled faces contorted into smiles.
The most shriveled of the bunch spoke. “We knew it was inevitable you would find us. Too bad it’s too late. Soon the planet will be ours.”
Captain Achilles pulled out his axe and said, “Too bad you’ll never live to see it.”
Fandango is the host of Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge.