Dragonfly Characters: Iron Man, some other people in spirit, zombies. Setting: Everywhere! Content: All safe. Summary: Narrative in which the zombie cure is disseminated. Everyone can go home now.
Administering a cure and vaccine individually would take years, and it would be a constant dance of two steps forward and one step back as the plague continued to spread and people continued to die despite this sickness retreating. Others would take over in the crowded quarantine areas, food would deplete and the exhaustion would set in. The second small pockets of humanity began to spring up, they would begin struggling for power, using the treatment as a negotiation tool rather than sharing it with their dying neighbours. Tony knew the only way this was going to do any good was to give it to as many people as possible, all at once, as fast as they could. And he already knew how to do that.
Hammer's predictable, 'Hey, buddy!' as Iron Man stepped into the helicarrier's lab was brushed off and Iron Man looked around for the person who was actually capable of explaining what they were dealing with. The cure, he was told, broke down the fungal infection concentrated at the top of the spinal chord into harmless proteins that would remain in the blood, effectively nullifying any further chance of infection. As far as they knew, the treatment has no effect on uninfected patients. That left them at risk of contracting the disease as long as it still remained in the population, but there were enough infected, and this resistant, now that the rate of spread would be vastly limited and manageable. So, now, change the formula. Here is what needs to be done.
The clouds above New York City were wispy and light as Iron Man shot through them, the barrels formed on his back heavy and dragging him slow as he flew higher, JARVIS reporting in his ear the humidity concentration. High above the city, the sky crackled like stars hit the atmosphere as Iron Man plateaued and released his specialized iodide flares, and then was gone, leaving the air feeling electric, hot and close as the clouds drooped heavily. The first rain that Iron Man caused that day was bitter and sizzled on the heated sidewalks of New York before they had a chance to cool for the storm. The bodies that filled the streets were soaked with heavy droplets, hardly reacting at first until the first, small and thin and skin already wrinkling as though immersed, stopped and looked up at the sky in wonder and unfamiliar clarity. The storm swept west, a dark swirl over the country washing away its blood.