Surviving The Virus (Book 1): Outbreak

by Casey, Ryan

And of things all over the world.

  But Shirley didn’t think anything of it, as she headed down the street, towards whatever “safe place” they were taking her to.

  She just looked out of the window and felt relieved she’d even been saved at all.

  She didn’t think much of the taste of blood forming at the back of her throat, either, as she sat there surrounded by people, heading right towards safety…

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jasmine couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder as she walked down the street.

  It was afternoon. Scorching. She wanted nothing more than an icy cold shower to cool her down. Today felt like it was dragging. So much had happened. From going to work this morning and finding the city in the midst of collapse, to running into Noah... it felt like some kind of hazy dream. A nightmare of sorts.

  The streets were still in the midst of collapse, even outside of the city centre. They were in the suburbs now. Detached houses either side of them. One of those areas where mostly retired people resided. Lots of cars on drives. Lots of curtain twitching from unnerved residents. The buzz of activity in the distance. A sense that something wasn’t right.

  Jasmine saw people standing at their fences, chatting to one another, keeping a distance. There was still a kind of novelty to all this. A sense that people didn’t really understand the severity of it because they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes.

  “Do we actually know why this virus—if that’s what it is—is affecting people so differently?” Eddie asked.

  It was something Jasmine had thought about a lot these last few hours. Some people just dropped dead. Others showed signs of paranoia. Delusion. Psychosis. Rage.

  And then there was the speed of displaying symptoms.

  Some people who came into contact with the virus looked like they’d fallen victim to it almost instantly.

  Others... well, they could be walking around with it right now. Carrying it right now.

  She could have it.

  Any of them could have it.

  “Whatever the hell it does,” Kelly said, “I’m just keen for us to stay as far away from anyone carrying it as possible.”

  “But we’ve been in contact with people carrying it,” Noah said. “Both of us. Which means—”

  “I know what it means,” Kelly said. “And as far as I can tell, the rest of you are idiots for even trailing along with us. But hey. It’s your funeral. Just don’t ask me to dig the graves when I’m bleeding out of my eyes.”

  Jasmine felt a knot in her stomach as she walked further down this street. A strange calm to the storm.

  But Noah was acting differently.

  He was acting the most unnerved since she’d seen him.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  Noah looked around at her. Nodded. “Me? Yeah. I... I’m just—”

  “I know it’s not easy. Going back there. To your parents. But you have to check on them. You’ve got an opportunity to. And we’re all here with you.”

  Noah looked away. Nodded. His relationship with his parents was something that always tore him up. And Jasmine knew exactly why it was.

  She knew why he was so eager to prove to them he could be responsible for himself. For others.

  Even though that responsibility terrified him.

  “You’ve still not got over what happened. With your little brother. Have you?”

  Noah stopped. Just for a second, it was like his whole world froze. Jasmine saw the trauma in his eyes. She saw the pain across his face.

  “Noah?”

  He looked back around. Snapped right back into the moment.

  He looked like there was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to release. Things he hadn’t even got off his chest when they were at their closest, when they were together.

  “Can you two save your counselling session for a little later?” Kelly asked. “There’s something weird up ahead.”

  Jasmine squinted into the distance.

  There was a little shop on the right. A Premier, the kind of place that sold booze and stayed open ’til late. A proper local store, the kind where the staff knew the ins and outs of their customers’ lives.

  But that store. It was closing its doors. Pulling the shutters down.

  And a woman stood outside, slamming against the window.

  “You’re supposed to be fucking open! You’re supposed to help!”

  “Shit,” Eddie said. “I’d rather keep out of this. Can we get a move on to your mum and dad’s, Noah? The sooner we get to Kelly’s, the better. I don’t think I’ve walked this much in years.”

  “A lot more walking to do yet,” Kelly muttered.

  They kept their heads down as they walked past the shop. There was something that surprised Jasmine about this whole reaction to the drama. She always imagined in the case of this kind of emergency people would pull together. They’d stand by one another.

  It wasn’t even a day into the outbreak—if that’s what this was—and already people were cutting off and excluding themselves.

  Jasmine listened to that woman banging against the glass. The desperation in her voice. And a haunting silence fell over her group.

  Because there was a sense that this was only the beginning.

  They reached the end of the road, and Noah stopped.

  “You alright, bud?” Eddie asked.

  Noah looked off into the distance. Jasmine saw the way he stared at that house. She could see the pulse in his neck, even from here, a sure sign of just how nervous he was.

  But Noah just looked across the street.

  Over towards that detached house. The blue Toyota in the drive. Luscious green grass. Inviting. Homely.

  “We’re here,” Noah said.

  “What?” Kelly said.

  “My mum and dad’s place,” Noah said. “We’re here.”

  Jasmine felt the same nerves Noah felt.

  And then she did something she wasn’t expecting.

  She put a hand on his arm.

  Looked at him.

  Offered a smile.

  “We’ve got this. We’re here for you. No matter what we find. Okay?”

  Noah swallowed a lump in his throat.

  Then, he nodded.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get this done with.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Colin Farke walked through the streets, and he felt totally free.

  He was trying his best to keep a low profile. No point drawing any unnecessary attention to himself. Sure, it wasn’t like anyone was gonna notice him today of all days. Society was far too much in the shit for that.

  But something drew him to the small group of people he’d seen when he stepped off the bus.

  The guy with the limp. The two girls, both of them pretty in their own ways. That dog, savage-looking but soft at heart.

  And now they were joined by a fat bloke who looked like he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

  He hadn’t been planning on following them initially. Just spent a little time down a cool alleyway in the shade.

  But then he’d seen them step out of that flat, and he’d heard what they were talking about.

  Making their way into the countryside.

  Keeping a low profile at one of their places. Somewhere out of the way of all this mess.

  And that appealed to Colin for many reasons.

  He thought about the opportunity it presented. Keeping a low profile. Keeping out of the way of the authorities. Living something resembling a normal life.

  And these people, too. He could use them. He could take advantage of them. They looked young and naive. Like they had too much good nature about them to turn someone like him away.

  He’d intercept them.

  And he’d take control of their home.

  And they wouldn’t even realise it.

  He walked further down the street, and he smiled at the smell of the sun burning against his skin. It felt so nice. Something he wasn�
��t used to. He kept on laughing spontaneously. He couldn’t believe his luck. His first day on low security, out with his support worker, and he’d got way, way more than he bargained for.

  He looked over his shoulder as he walked down these strangely quiet suburban streets. Got the sense someone was following closely behind. And also an urge, too. An urge to go back to the secure unit. An urge to do the right thing. Tell the staff his support worker collapsed. Died.

  Honesty. That’d stand him in good stead.

  When this incident resolved—whatever the hell it was—it would count in his favour.

  But then he heard voices up ahead, and he turned back around.

  He crouched. Crept behind a car.

  And then he peeked around it and looked ahead.

  He saw that group standing opposite a house. The dude who was limping a little staring up at it like he’d seen a ghost.

  He edged around the cars. Crept closer, as the dark-haired girl put a hand on his arm.

  And as they walked towards that house.

  Colin took a deep breath as they stepped into that house.

  And then he smiled.

  He knew exactly what he had to do.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Noah stepped inside his old home and felt shivers creep up his arms.

  The hallway was just as he remembered it. Dark. Stairs on the left. Corridor through to the lounge and the kitchen on the right. Another little door immediately to his left leading to the study area, which also led round to the kitchen at the back.

  The photographs still sat on top of the radiator cover. Some of him. But most of Kyle. Of their angel.

  His smiling little face in happier times.

  He walked into the hallway. He was alone. He didn’t want anyone with him, not for this. These were his parents. This was his search. This was his responsibility.

  He pushed open the lounge door. Saw a fancy looking television in the corner of the room. More photographs lined the windowsill. At the back of the house, a conservatory, the blinds shut. Like they were always shut. Keeping out the light. Keeping out the heat.

  Noah thought about sitting down on that plush sofa and pretending he’d searched the house. Pretending he hadn’t found his parents. Pretending to the group that he had no idea where they were, so they had to get moving on.

  He hadn’t been back here for three years. He tried to visit as little as possible. His parents told him they wanted to see him. They missed him. That he should come round for tea sometime.

  But he knew they were all just words.

  He knew they didn’t really mean it.

  Or rather, there was a grain of truth there. He knew deep down they craved a return to normality. They craved everything being okay again, being back to normal again.

  But things would never be back to normal.

  Not after Kyle.

  He stood. Walked out of the lounge and into the kitchen. He saw the dust across the breakfast bar. A pristine sink and draining board totally free of pots and pans. A message hanging above the oven. “Cook, Eat, Smile!”

  Positive messages.

  Empty messages.

  Reminders of a past long gone.

  He turned away from the kitchen when he saw something.

  An old pair of football boots, sitting in the middle of the breakfast bar.

  For a moment, Noah assumed they were Kyle’s. They’d always had a way of putting their grief over Kyle before him. And he understood it. It wasn’t that he was selfish. He got it. And he was just as guilty as anyone. More guilty than anyone.

  But then he looked closer, and he realised they weren’t Kyle’s old football boots.

  They were his.

  He turned them in his hand. Old soil fell off them, sprinkled down onto the breakfast bar, like a nostalgic snow of the past.

  He moved his thumb across the flaking black leather where he’d kicked the ball so many times.

  Where he’d played against his brother. His school friends. His dad.

  Laughing.

  Smiling.

  Happy.

  And he felt sudden guilt hit him.

  Because this was a sign.

  A sign his parents missed him.

  A sign his mother missed him.

  He lowered the boots and turned to the doorway.

  He headed out of the kitchen. Reached the bottom of the stairs. He looked up, up towards the landing area. He used to hate going to bed at night. Whenever his mum thought he was asleep, she’d spend hours awake crying. Dad hushing her, trying to calm her, telling her they’d get through this.

  And that guilt he felt.

  That sadness he felt.

  He tightened his fists, pins and needles tingling right through them, and he climbed the stairs.

  He listened to them creaking underfoot. Wanted to turn back. Wanted to go outside. Wanted to get out of these suffocating four walls.

  But he kept on going.

  Reached the top of the stairs.

  Stood there in the landing area.

  His bedroom door right in front of him.

  He didn’t want to go in there.

  He didn’t want to look inside.

  He didn’t want to see.

  But he pushed that door open anyway.

  The room was exactly as he’d remembered.

  Old football annuals filled the bookcase.

  Wrestling figures scattered around the room.

  Ancient television with a VHS recorder underneath it in the corner.

  He thought of the days he’d spend in there. His haven. His safe place.

  And then he turned around and closed the door.

  He wasn’t ready to spend any more time there.

  He wasn’t willing to get any closer.

  He walked across the landing.

  Walked over to his parents’ bedroom door.

  And he imagined all kinds of things.

  Finding them dead.

  Finding them covered in blood.

  And feeling so much guilt all over again.

  His heart raced.

  His chest tightened.

  He lifted his hand and pushed the door open.

  Flowery bedding. A fresh smell, like cut grass.

  The room was empty.

  Nobody was home.

  Noah felt a combination of emotions hit him as he stood there in the brightest room of the house.

  Happiness. Relief that they weren’t home. That nobody was here. That they weren’t suffering.

  And sadness, too.

  Guilt.

  All because of his football boots on that breakfast bar downstairs.

  The reminder of how much they wanted things to work, and how much guilt they felt, too.

  He closed his mum and dad’s bedroom door, and he headed back downstairs.

  He looked back at the house. Back into the hallway. Took a deep breath of the cool air.

  And then he pulled a wrestling figure out of his pocket and placed it on the radiator cover, right beside one of the family photos.

  “I hope you’re okay,” he said. “Wherever you are.”

  And then he turned around, opened the front door, and he left his childhood home.

  Fighting back the tears in his eyes.

  When he stepped outside, he saw someone standing there he didn’t recognise.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jasmine stood outside Noah’s parents’ house and waited for him to return.

  Thoughts she never imagined she’d ever have again.

  It was afternoon. The sky was totally blue. Today was usually the kind of day where you heard the chimes of ice cream vans working their way down these streets. Where kids filled the avenues, playing football and tennis across the road, inciting the wrath of some unsuspecting driver when their ball slammed into their windscreen.

  But it was all in good humour. It was all in good spirits. It was all just a part of the normalities of everyday life.

  But this... this w
as different.

  She saw some people getting into their cars, making their own way. She saw other people twitching their curtains, clearly trying to ride this all out, wait until help arrived.

  She heard engines in the distance. Beefy engines. Engines of the vehicles taking these people to quarantine centres, wherever they were, no doubt.

  And it made her skin crawl. Because the reaction to the outbreak was frighteningly fast.

  And that frighteningly fast response made her wonder whether this was something the government knew about already.

  Something they’d prepared for.

  She looked over to her right. Saw Eddie sitting there, playing with Barney. She smiled. It was nice to see Barney being fussed despite the circumstances. To be honest, she’d never really had anything against Eddie when she and Noah were together. He was a bit of a lazy slacker, sure. But he’d been through a lot of shit in his life. And he was a decent guy at heart.

  She looked to her left and caught Kelly staring at her.

  The second she made eye contact with her, Kelly looked away. She was a stubborn one that was for sure. Yet Jasmine still found it incredible just how quickly she had shifted from begging for her job to this. From weakness to strength, in the blink of an eye.

  But she knew Kelly was hurting.

  And she knew she needed to address it before it tore the pair of them apart.

  “Kelly?” Jasmine said.

  Kelly puffed out her lips and sighed. “I don’t want to—”

  “I’m sorry for what happened. I made a mistake. I should never have put my career before you. Because... because you might not like me saying this right now, but you’re my best friend. Damn. You’re my only friend. And I’m sorry.”

  Kelly looked at Jasmine. Narrowed her eyes. “You’re only saying this because the world’s gone to shit.”

  “What?”

  “Answer one question for me. Say you’d gone into work today. Say things were all rosy and normal. Would you be saying this to me? Or would you be letting the guilt eat you up inside while powering on towards the top of the Henderson ladder?”

  Jasmine wanted to tell Kelly she was wrong. That she would’ve reached out to her. That she valued their friendship more than anything.