Suddenly he began to feel sick and weak. Darrell fell to his knees and gave a gasp for breath. Looking quickly over his body he started to notice a few details that were wrong. His hand was starting to look more ashen and wrinkled. His privates were more shriveled. Even his eyesight was beginning to blur a little.
Quickly he moved over to his equipment and took a blood sample. After putting it through an analyzer he tried to stare at the screen to see what was wrong. It was difficult, and it took him a few minutes to fully see what was happening.
Some of his human DNA was being attacked by the cure. It didn't stop with the virus' additives. He himself was now falling apart.
Oh no, he thought. I'm dying.
Panicking, he couldn't come up with any other options. He needed to replace what he was losing, but he didn't have any other human samples around other than himself.
Maybe, he thought as hair fell from his head, maybe if I reinfect myself and keep my body as isolated as possible, the virus will use the neighboring DNA in one cell to replace the damaged portion in another.
The virus seemed to ignore synthetics. Looking around, he tried to find something that was completely plastic or at least covered in something unnatural. He saw his waterproof tarp through the window out the back. He couldn't remember exactly what it was made of, but the tarp he used to covering logs in the backyard during storms had a coating over it to make it more waterproof. He quickly opened the backdoor and pulled it off, almost falling over in process as his ability to breath dwindled. He started having trouble as strength left his muscles. He even felt his bones bending under their own weight. Finally, back inside, he succeeded in wrapping himself with the side clean of wood bits against him. Then, he took another sample of the lake water and drank it just as he passed out, wrapped inside of a blue cocoon on the floor.
He would be unconscious when a visit arrived four hours later.