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Cranax Outbreak

Page 14

by Candice Lim


  “Usually, the people closest to you stab you the hardest because you let them get too close.” Vaxine shut the kit. “My motto is ‘Trust no one and no one can hurt you’.” I pictured her as Hershey when she said that. “Now go sleep. I don’t want to deal with you anymore.” Vaxine spun around and left. Well, maybe a more trigger-happy version of Hershey.

  I dropped the bombshell. “Hershey is dead. George told me.”

  Vaxine, who was padding towards the pantry, stopped. Slowly, she turned around. Two eyes drilled into me, seeking signs of deceit. “That’s bullshit.” We both knew Vaxine was feigning calm. Vaxine’s face dropped, but she put great effort into hiding it. “They won’t kill her. Not yet.”

  18

  HERSHEY

  Her eyes popped open. Darkness. The world was in darkness, much of a muchness too before she was awake. As her senses gained, a wave of pain rolled through every part of her body. The agony was so great she barely moved a muscle.

  Still she struggled to look around, to analyze her surroundings. She found herself lying on her back. She tilted her chin. Tiny bulbs dotted the high ceiling, casting faint rays over her surroundings.

  Her uneasiness faded. She had resurrected strength and agility. She forced herself up, sitting upright, pushing off the ground. She doddered backward. Her arms flailed to gain balance. Her legs were still weak, making her like a toddler learning her first steps.

  She spun around and found herself in a cylindrical cage. Steel railings fenced its circumference. It looked like a gigantic birdcage and she was the bird.

  A hammering pain struck her head, all the memories shoving into her brain. Hershey. That was her name. As the past began to take shape, what laid before her eyes started to make sense. She still had no idea where she was because she knew why she was there.

  Hershey inched her way to the bars and peered through the narrow gaps, getting her bearings. What she saw was a real horror. Her jaw dropped as a silent gasp left.

  What looked like animal cages stacked up and bordered every corridor. But their inmates were not animals. Each cage contained a human, forced into the claustrophobic space. They weren’t active. No signs of protest. Not even a meep or chirp. They looked ill or drugged. Their faces were pale and mottled with bruises. Their eyes bulged over bony cheeks, bloodshot and watery.

  The apprehension Hershey felt morphed into something fiercer. Her fingers tightened around the cold railings.

  19

  DERRICK

  “Are we ready to roll out?” A throaty voice called out from the epidemiologist and PI, Professor Juan by the helicopter door. The team of five was on a mission to Graybridge to study the origin of the Cranax Outbreak.

  Derrick Lee, a final year postgrad student majoring in epidemiology, was wrenched back to the present and the whirring of helicopter blades came alive again. Sitting next to Juan was Louis, who studied biomedical sciences. Next to him sat the microbiologist Gene, just coming out of a nap. He looked around frantically, taking in his surroundings. A while later, Gene wiped his collar where his saliva had pooled. The pharmaceutical student, Jill sat next to him.

  A week ago, the four of them were strangers, all from different parts of the nation on their National Service under the supervision of Prof. Juan. To graduate and earn the Dr. title, all postgrad students in scientific fields were subjected to participate in the mandatory program under expert supervision.

  The Raptor lowered itself to the helipad. A squad of men and women in camo awaited the vehicle. Juan jumped out of the helicopter like he couldn’t wait another second. One uniformed woman stepped forward and saluted them. “Welcome to Graybridge, Prof. Juan. We’ve been expecting you. Profs Michael and Theresa are already in the tent.”

  Juan nodded but he wasn’t paying attention. He put on his aviators. Louis was quick to take his side, grabbing the lab coat the military woman passed to Juan. “Lemme get this.”

  She gave him a displeased look and turned to the Professor. “Please follow me.”

  Juan nodded at his team, “Let’s move!”

  Even in the Cranax hot zone, nothing could dull Juan’s passion and spirit.

  Gene and Jill emerged out of the helicopter after Juan. They peeked at the sun-drenched land like animals first coming out of hibernation. Derrick was the last to come out.

  A musty sweet smell wafted into his nose. Death hung in the air. Thousands of people had succumbed to the mysterious disease. Derrick followed the rest of the team. The town once bustled with people―peasants, to be exact. Paupers who had to survive from paycheck to paycheck, if they ever had one.

  They had no access to proper meals and healthcare. When the outbreak hailed, they had no one to turn to. The government couldn’t care less about those who would not benefit them in any way. They died in vain. In silence.

  Derrick gazed up at the transparent dome covering Graybridge. It was said to keep the virus out of the area. Something else caught his eye. Around the dome were people with their ankles shackled, connecting via long metal chains.

  “Who are they?” Derrick asked the military woman, jabbing a finger at the dome. She stared back at him and Derrick didn’t ask again.

  “Don’t be such a busybody, Ricky,” chided Juan and turned to the others. “All right, kids. We wasted enough time.”

  Derrick threw another glance at the wall and joined the rest of the team. The team reached a curtained entrance to an army green tent. The walking had been taxing to Juan, after all, he wasn’t young anymore. “Prof. Michael and Prof. Theresa are two close friends of mine. We knew each other since we were babies, like you guys.”

  Louis faked a laugh.

  “Prof., for the last time, we are not kindergarteners,” Derrick said matter-of-factly.

  “Don’t be a whiner, Ricky,” he snapped at Derrick. He gazed up at the sky, out of the world. “Ah, those good ol’ days!” He snapped at the kids, whispering, “So, make me proud too.”

  “Always will, Prof,” said Louis.

  “I know you will, Louis.” Juan pointed two fingers at Louis, pistol-style. Derrick rolled his eyes and looked elsewhere. Juan lifted the drapes and gestured at his students. “Please do the honors.”

  The interior of the tent was sparsely furnished. A dying bulb hung from overhead, plastered with bodies of dead bugs. A standing fan creaked in the corner. Two Professors in lab coats were huddled together to save space.

  “Juan!” clamored the woman with wild red curls too big for her head. The papers in her hands dropped as she ran into Juan’s open arms. “Blot my gel! It’s been so long!”

  “My dear Theresa!” Juan let go and hugged her back.

  A man with a goatee slapped his back. “Juan! If it wasn’t for Cranax, when are you going to nip some precious time out of your busy schedule to catch up with us?”

  Juan let out a laugh. “Seems like science brought us together again, old pals.” He flashed them a knowing look. “How about we three get together this evening to talk about some collaborations in the future? What do you say?”

  They suddenly realized there were three extra people in the room. The laughing subsided as Michael cleared his throat. “So, introduce us to your kids?”

  Juan nodded proudly. “All serving the nation.”

  “Oh, this counts as National Service?” Theresa asked with interest.

  “That’s right.”

  “Ah, the children of tomorrow,” said Michael.

  “Yes, our glorious descendants.”

  Juan clapped his hands once. “So, do you guys mind if―?” Scuffling footsteps cut him short.

  A military guy barged in, gasping as he passed his eyes over the inmates of the tent. “Apologies, Profs.” He ignored the three younger people. “We got a situation.”

  The Professors exchanged glances. Excitement radiated from their faces. “Put your glorious coat on, kids. We are going on an adventure!” proclaimed Juan.

  “We saw
an object floating here. Then, we went and had a look. This is what we found.” The military guy gestured at the large river coming into view. Heavy boots thumped dry ground cracked by heat, urgency thrusting their every step forward.

  Masked men in full green suits dotted the riverbank. Their hands wielded heavy guns, pointing at the crimson water. They were whispering among themselves. Instead of the breezy river scent Derrick had anticipated, a sickening odor infused the air. It seeped through the mask and seared his lungs.

  Small frowns crumpled Jill and Gene’s faces. They both passed their hands over their mouths. Their face masks had proven useless against the stench.

  If the three Professors were perturbed by the smell, they showed no signs of it. Even Louis, who they both knew was feigning indifference. The military men and women parted like curtains, making way for the scientists. The Professors hovered about the riverbank, taking samples and poking their noses in to study science-knows-what. Louis followed suit, not wanting to lose out.

  Derrick, Gene, and Jill stood back to see what was going on. Something was floating in the river, something pale and long. The hairs on Derrick’s arms stood on end. It was a dead body. A retching sound came from behind him. As he turned, his eyes met with Jill, bending over and holding her stomach.

  Blarghhh! Vomit shot out of Jill’s mouth. Her mask creased around her neck like a scarf. The hovering mass of people spread out, forming an arc around her.

  Louis rolled his eyes and covered his mouth.

  “Jill, you all right?” Juan asked from behind his mask, grabbing her arm in concern.

  “I’m sorry, Prof. I’ll be fine―” Blargh. “Sorry!”

  “Hey!” Juan called out to Gene, whose face paled. “Will you please take Jill from here?” He pointed at the tall tree about a walk away. It branched out like a giant umbrella, providing welcoming shade from the blazing sun. “Get some rest over there.”

  Gene nodded in hurry and gratitude. He grabbed Jill by the arm and walked her to the tree.

  Derrick caught himself staring at the duo as a tinge of envy crept into him. Not because they had been granted a break from the gruesome activity but for Gene to be with Jill alone.

  Juan snapped his fingers at him. “Pay attention, young man.”

  “Sorry, Prof.” Derrick bowed his head and caught Louis smirk.

  “Lift it onto the bank!” Theresa called out to the soldiers standing in the shallow water.

  They hoisted the corpse out and laid it facedown on the grass. The white fabric on its body was dyed red by the water, its hem and sleeves were ragged. One of its shoes was missing, bones protruding out of decaying flesh. The muscled men turned the body over, revealing its face, half gone. Maggots crawled over the scalp, crawling and creeping out of the eye sockets.

  Derrick tightened his lips, holding back the urge to throw up. The odor, combined with the horrendous scene made his stomach turn.

  “Urgh!” Michael’s face twisted in disgust.

  Theresa’s hand hovered over her nose and mouth.

  If Juan was affected by the view, he showed no sign of it. He knelt, scrutinizing the body. The odor intensified, choking Derrick like a hand around his neck, cutting his breath. The body was bloated with the water it had been floating in. Flies swarmed around, drawn to this rotting mini feast.

  Everyone covered their faces with their hands. All except Juan, who had snapped on his blue gloves.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” He turned to the people gathered behind him. “We have to wait for the autopsy report to confirm it officially but till then, I think we found Patient Zero.”

  “Finally!” Michael let out a relieved sigh.

  As though conscious of being talked about, the body jerked upright, its gaping mouth stretched wide as a hoarse shriek escaped its ragged throat. At the sound, the crowd dispersed in perfect synchronization. Soldiers reached for their guns and the scientists brandished their Zappers, every pair of hands trembled hard.

  Derrick was shoved behind the crowd like a windblown twig. Unable to resist he surrendered to the flow. The corpse emitted another shriek, this time combined with one made by Juan. Through the gaps in the crowd, Derrick saw Juan’s face twist in pain and fear. The corpse had bitten him, sinking its rotten teeth deep into his neck. Blood oozed out and his veins bulged out and were turning black.

  As Derrick pushed his way towards his mentor, a soldier shouted from behind, stopping him in his tracks. “Get down, son!” Derrick dropped to the ground, throwing his hands over his head.

  Bullets flew and empty shells ricocheted around Derrick. He jammed his fingertips into his ears until he could only hear the fierce pounding of his heart.

  Ten seconds later all firing ceased. Derrick opened his eyes and saw a puddle of sweat in the dirt. Another bead dripped from his face and into the puddle. A veil of smoke blurred his vision as a low humming of voices took over.

  Ten soldiers approached where Juan had been attacked and blocked Derrick’s view. Orders were shouted above the constant drone of engine noise. Three men peeled away, running to fetch medications and more helpers.

  Gene and Jill were trying to catch a glimpse of the event. When they saw Derrick, they ran to him.

  “What happened?” Jill helping him to stand up.

  “Juan got bitten.” Worry crept into Derrick’s voice.

  “Bitten? By what?”

  “The body.”

  Jill stared at him blankly for a few seconds and shook her head. “Wait, isn’t it dead?”

  When Derrick saw the surprised look on Jill’s face, he lowered his voice. “The body of Patient Zero came alive. You heard the screaming? It was from the body! The next thing I know, it bit Juan.” Derrick looked out over the riverbank. “Where’s Louis?”

  Gene and Jill both shrugged.

  “Wasn’t he with you?” asked Jill.

  A frown creased Gene’s forehead. He left the two and walked over to the tree. Derrick shrugged, wishing he had the answer himself.

  “Do you know why certain animals cry out when they feel threatened?” Gene suddenly shouted, with urgency in his voice.

  Derrick and Jill stared back at him in silence. It was such a random question.

  “They are calling for attention.”

  “Whose attention?” Jill’s voice trembled.

  “Usually for their own kind.”

  Distant cries rang from the forest. The barks and yowls were not of human or known animal origin. The three stood together, back to back forming a circle. Derrick’s muscles tensed as he clenched his fists. Judging from Gene’s insight and the attack on Juan, Derrick worked out what was coming for them.

  “Guys, we need to run now,” Derrick said, trying to remain calm.

  Gene and Jill were still searching for the source of the cacophony.

  “Come on! Let’s get outta here!” Derrick shouted, fear breaking into his voice. But his warning was too late.

  The earth beneath them began to tremble with countless approaching footsteps. A black shape took form and enlarged into a pulsating mass. An army of people in torn and frayed clothing was charging at them at full speed, howling and screaming like wild animals.

  Gene was half-right. These were neither normal human beings nor were they animals. They were the Infected. Their eyes were bloodshot and their gnashing teeth waiting to sink themselves into skin and flesh.

  Derrick remembered the latest articles uploaded to the journals he read. Every sign matched. Now they were right before his eyes, and coming closer and faster.

  “Too late!” yelled Gene.

  The soldiers moved into action again and took up their positions along the riverbank. Juan’s body was visible again. His eyes were closed and a peaceful look graced his face. In a strange way, Derrick was jealous of Juan being dead and out of danger.

  “Kids, grab your weapons!” Michael screamed. The three didn’t have to be told twice. They ran over to the scie
ntist, who shoved rifles into their ready hands.

  “Save the last bullet for yourselves. When the time comes, you all know what to do. None of you want to die like Juan.” Michael looked over at Juan’s body with an anguished expression on his face. He turned to the kids, with a stern look in his eyes. “Make your elders proud.”

  20

  ROXY

  My eyes skimmed over the words. Whatever the number was, it held no meaning to me, like the rest of the articles in the journal. “Argh. I can’t do this anymore.” I slapped my tablet on the coffee table.

 

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