The Travelers of Death by Glenn H. Myers

They rarely traveled in the same circles, having been mortal enemies for decades.

Zika in South America, Marburg in Africa, Measles in the United States.

They were cornering the market, until a new kid came into town.

SARS CoV-2, better know as COVID, killed millions, the envy of all the other diseases.

In 2026, the Ministry of Death called a summit on a small island in the South Pacific, with the purpose of uniting the diseases; the theme of the summit, “One Strike, Billions Dead.”

Best practices were discussed, with airborne transmission the agreed upon protocol, as this spread the quickest.

Yes, genetic was better long-term, but a quick strike (hence the summit slogan) was the preferred method.

There’s enough death for everyone, please let’s stop the infighting.

The pathogens agreed to put their differences aside. Like mafia bosses agreeing to share territories, the microbes united in knowing there was plenty for everyone, and sharing would be the new standard moving forward.

Sitting quietly in the corner, the ciliate parasites listened, waited, watched. Let them have their airborne transmissions; they would go their own way, spreading through the water—the oceans, rivers, ponds—that would be the global killers. They’d tested this with sea urchins and it worked flawlessly.

Airborne transmission? Genetics? Old school thinking. The ciliate parasites would one day rise—very soon—to show the world what power, leadership, and death truly looked like.