And the rest of the gear wouldn't hurt.
Matt's hand turned the doorknob.
Whoever had entered his apartment might still be there. If they were, he'd have to deal with them. Without his Glock. Without anything but his bare hands and his wits.
6
Jamie
Jamie and Mia hadn't known where to go. They had felt horribly vulnerable out in the open, on the road with no vehicle. And they couldn't go back to their apartment, which was apparently contaminated.
So they'd gone to the first place that had crossed Jamie's mind: Matt's apartment.
“This is so weird,” said Mia, sitting down on one of his chairs in the living room. “It's like we're breaking into to your ex's house.”
“He's not my ex. We just went out on three dates.”
“If he's not your ex, then why do you have his spare key? That's like so weird. And you didn't even tell me...”
Jamie shrugged. It was weird that she had his key. What could she say? It was one of the reasons that she'd broken it off with Matt. He'd just come on way too strong and way too fast. The way he'd been talking on that third date, it had sounded like he wanted to marry her. And when he'd given her the key, it had just been too much for her. Too much and too fast. Way too intense.
“And you didn't even give the key back? That's even weirder, in my opinion.”
Jamie felt herself starting to feel defensive. “Hey,” she said. “He's the one who gave it to me. Then we just didn't talk at work. He gave me the complete silent treatment. It was like I wasn't even there... what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to get it back to him? I did what anyone would have, which was ignore the situation. It was just too weird to deal with.”
Mia made a little noise of confirmation. “It's just so weird that he gave you a key...”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Is he like just totally weird or something?”
“That's the thing. He doesn't seem weird any other way. Actually, he was pretty normal and nice before we started to go out... I think he just hadn't gone on a date in a little while and took the whole thing way more seriously than...”
“...than is remotely normal?” Mia finished the sentence for her.
“Basically.”
“I've heard about guys like that,” said Mia. “They just go nuts when it comes to dating... like they just become way too intense.”
“Yeah,” said Jamie, nodding. “But, hey, let's drop it for a moment, all right? There's more important stuff going on.”
“I'm not even giving you a hard time, though,” said Mia, her voice rising, sounding like a complaint.
“I know. But look, let's get back to reality here. What happened between me and Matt isn't going to keep us alive. I mean, what are we going to do?”
“Let's just stay here,” said Mia, stretching out her long legs, throwing her arms behind her head, making herself comfortable.
“Stay here? Are you crazy?”
“Why not? I checked the fridge. There's some food. Not a lot, but there's enough stuff in the freezer... some of these frozen microwave dinners that guys are always eating... We'll just wait out all this commotion here, and then when it dies down... I've been meaning to go on a diet anyway.” She patted her small, nonexistent belly, as if she was acknowledging that she needed to slim down.
“You think this is going to die down soon?” said Jamie, incredulously.
“Sure. I mean, how long could it last? The government will get it under control, right?”
Jamie made a scoffing sound.
“You don't think so? You don't trust the government or something?”
“It's not that I don't trust them,” said Jamie. “It's just that I'm realistic. And a good judge of human character. The government, after all, is made up of people. It's made up of human beings who are very fallible. They make errors and they make mistakes. And this is going to be a massive problem... if the virus is as contagious as they say it is, the numbers of contaminated people are going to rise exponentially... It's going to be completely insane.”
“But how do you know all that?” said Mia. “Why do you think you know more than the people on the news? They're saying that it's going to all be over within a week. Everything will calm down.”
“Yeah, of course that's what they're going to say,” said Jamie. “But you've got to remember that they're primarily a business. A business that makes money off advertisements. Why would they predict the end of their entire business model?”
“You're just talking like a crazy person now,” said Mia, sinking further into a more comfortable position. Her posture was so relaxed that it looked like she might fall asleep at any moment.
Jamie knew that they couldn't start arguing. It would just be counterproductive. But she also knew that she needed to come up with a plan. She needed to figure out what they'd do and where they'd go.
Maybe Mia was right in that they could stay in Matt's apartment for a little while. Maybe a few days? Maybe something would change, even if the situation didn't improve, in some way that would allow them to move somewhere else more secure.
What about Matt? Where was he? She didn't like the idea of being in his apartment if he came home.
She actually shivered at the thought of how awkward the encounter would be. What would she say?
She actually started running through things in her head that she could say if Matt showed up.
She supposed that she'd just have to tell the truth, that she and her friend were in a tight spot, fearing for their lives, and had nowhere else to go.
Or maybe she could make a joke about finally using that key he'd given her? Maybe it would alleviate some of the awkwardness, some of the tension.
Or maybe it wouldn't?
“What are you doing?” said Mia, sleepily. “You're going into his bedroom?”
Jamie didn't answer.
But it was true. She was entering Matt's bedroom.
It was the first time she'd been in there. And she was only going in because it seemed important to her to scope out the entire apartment.
Maybe there'd be something useful in there.
And just for peace of mind, it was nice to know that the whole place was empty.
Well, there was no one in the room.
The bedroom was actually quite boring. It was neat and tidy. She'd always heard that most single guys had horribly messy bedrooms.
But that wasn't the case with Matt. Everything seemed to be in its proper place.
Not that there was really that much to have to worry about putting away.
The bedroom really was just the bed, a bureau, a nightstand, and a closet.
There wasn't much of interest in the nightstand drawer. Some Chapstick and a small flashlight. That was about it, along with a couple of pens and a small notebook.
In the bureau, there were really just clothes.
In the closet, more clothes. Boring clothes, too. The kind of stuff that Matt wore to work. Just plain blue button-down shirts and khaki pants.
But what was that, there in the corner of the closet, covered by a thin piece of fabric?
She pulled the fabric away to reveal a safe.
She bent down to examine it. It was an old-fashioned combination safe. It wasn't digital. Instead it had the big dial with a lot of numbers on it.
What did he have in that safe?
A gun. It was probably a gun.
He didn't really seem like the gun-owning type. He'd never mentioned it.
But that didn't really mean anything.
Jamie suddenly found herself wishing that she had a gun. She'd actually grown up with guns, back in Philadelphia. Her father had taken her and her sister to the range more than a few times. He'd even had a family friend, a well-known firearms instructor in the area, take her and her sister shooting, showing them how to properly use a firearm.
So she'd shot rifles, shotguns, and some smaller pistols. She'd tried shooting her dad's .45, but the ki
ckback had been too much for her to feel comfortable with. At least, back then.
It had been almost a decade since she'd moved away from Pennsylvania and her parents. And almost just as long since she'd fired a gun.
But she sure would have liked to have one with her now.
She glanced at the safe one more time, wondering again if it really contained a gun, and then turned around and left the bedroom. She headed towards the kitchen, deciding that it'd be valuable to take stock of exactly how much food there was, before they decided whether or not they were going to stay there and if so, for how long.
Suddenly, Mia screamed out.
“What is it?”
Jamie made it into the room in a flash.
Mia had sat bolt upright. She was staring at the entrance.
Jamie turned, and saw someone standing there. A man. Holding a lamp high above his head in a threatening way, as if he was ready to strike someone with it.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
He kept his distance, staying as far away from Mia and Jamie as he could.
Suddenly, Jamie realized who it was. The situation was so startling she hadn't realized that the man was Matt. Matt from work. Matt, her coworker. Matt, who she'd dated and never spoken to again. Matt whose apartment she'd broken into.
She almost asked him what he was doing there before she realized it made complete sense that he was here. It was his apartment after all.
Then her mind started racing, trying to figure out how she could explain what she and her friend were doing there.
She felt overcome with embarrassment. Her face started to get bright red.
It had been a lot to go through, not speaking to him at work. And now? She'd broken into his apartment. That was 'crazy ex-girlfriend' behavior. But she'd never even been his girlfriend.
“Let me see your veins,” he said, still across the room.
“My veins?” said Jamie.
“This was all her idea,” said Mia. “I didn't even want to break in. But she said it'd be OK. She said that you gave her a key, after all, and all that...”
“Mia!” hissed Jamie.
“Show me your veins!” said Matt, raising his voice. He sounded mad.
“What are you talking about?”
“You don't know?”
“Know what?” Jamie took a step forward towards Matt. “Matt, I know this is really weird... me breaking into your apartment, but I can explain it all...”
“Stay back!” shouted Matt, raising the lamp higher into the air. “The veins on the back of your hand. Hold up your hands so I can see the back of them... both of you.”
Fear shot through Jamie and she froze in place. This didn't seem like Matt. He'd always seemed calm.
Jamie glanced over at Mia. They exchanged a look that more or less said, 'I don't know what this is about, but we'd better do what he says. He seems to have a good reason for wanting to do this.'
Only when both Jamie and Mia had held up their hands, and Matt was peering at them, did it occur to Jamie that this must have something to with the do virus.
“Your necks. Let me see your necks,” said Matt. He seemed a little more relaxed. But only just a little bit.
“Our necks?”
“Crane them out. Let me see the sides... the veins...”
“This is nuts,” said Mia, already holding her neck out as best she could.
Jamie did the same.
“Is that a sign of the virus or something?” said Jamie.
“I thought you said you hadn't heard about it?” said Matt, taking a couple steps towards them, lowering the lamp as he did so.
“I hadn't. But I just figured it out, I guess. What were you looking for?”
“Apparently infected people have dilated veins in their hands and necks,” said Matt.
“It's true,” said Mia, her eyes glued to her phone, her thumb scrolling across its touch screen. “Looks like they finally figured out how to tell if someone's been contaminated... they're still saying that the virus is 'silent' for two days before it starts to kill the host...”
“That's kind of a relief,” said Jamie.
Matt was walking slowly towards her. “So,” he was saying. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
Jamie realized it was the first time they'd talked since their last date. Still, she had the presence of mind to say loudly. “Stop!”
“Stop?”
“Stop where you are. Show me your hands.”
Various expressions seemed to run across Matt's face.
Then, after a moment, he said, “Makes sense.”
He stayed where he was, put the lamp down, and held up his hands so that Jamie and Mia could clearly see the backs of them. Then he craned his neck forward.
“He looks clean,” said Jamie.
“Sorry about her,” muttered Mia. “She's a little, you know... overly cautious.”
Jamie felt the anger rising in her. She wasn't about to apologize for something like that.
“There's nothing to apologize for,” said Matt. “If there ever were a time to be overly cautious, it's now.”
It was a strange feeling, having Matt agree with her. And the strangeness of the situation started to sink in.
But before she could have much time to reflect on it, and before Matt could say anything else, there was a knock at the door.
Jamie felt her heart immediately start to beat faster and harder. Mia sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and fixed on the door rather than her cell phone.
“Don't worry,” said Matt. “It's probably just Damian. My buddy. You know? From the office.”
Jamie breathed a sigh of relief.
“He was waiting for me in the parking lot,” said Matt, turning around and taking a step towards the door.
“Wait!” said Jamie. “Ask who it is.”
“Good call...” said Matt. Then calling out in a louder voice, he said, “Who is it?”
“Your neighbor!” The voice was male, but it definitely wasn't Damian's.
Jamie didn't know Damian that well, but she knew his voice. It had always sounded a little funny to her, a little cartoonish, maybe a little bit effeminate.
The voice on the other side of the door, on the other hand, sounded intensely masculine.
Matt didn't take another step forward. Instead, he grabbed the lamp.
Jamie got the sense that Matt didn't recognize the voice as belonging to one of his neighbors.
Her heart was pounding her chest as she stared at the door, as if it might burst open at any moment.
In her estimation, there were two dangers.
One, the guy on the other side of the door could be violent. He could want something, and he could be willing to take it by force.
Two, he could be infected with the virus. This was by far the most serious threat. He didn't even have to do anything to kill them all.
7
Damian
Matt seemed to be taking forever in his apartment, and Damian was starting to wish that he'd gone in with him.
Damian was tired from all the running and walking. Unlike Matt, he wasn't used to doing much physical activity aside from walking around the office.
Back in high school, he'd been a cross-country runner. He'd kept it up in college a little bit, taking some pleasure in long runs on the weekend. But he'd done those mostly so that he had something to do other than studying.
When he'd joined the workforce was when he'd really fallen off the wagon when it came to exercising. And consequently, he'd put on a decent-sized paunch. Overall, he was relatively skinny, but he definitely wasn't in shape, in any sense of the word.
In order to rest, Damian had found a small concrete bumper to sit down on. He'd pulled out his phone, despite the low battery, and was scrolling through his various social media feeds.
People all over the country were confirming that the dilated or enlarged veins were the sign of contamination.
There were also reports that asymptoma
tic people were starting to show symptoms. The reports hadn't yet showed up on the official news sites, but they were all over social media. And they seemed to be real, because the symptoms that people were describing exactly matched the man with blood on his face that he and Matt had seen in the road.
There were even a few videos. Damian clicked on one, and it started playing.
The video on his small cell phone screen showed a woman in her late fifties walking along the sidewalk. There was so much blood on her face that it was hard to tell which orifice it was coming from. The blood was actually dripping off her face onto the sidewalk, leaving a trail behind her as she walked.
Shit. This was serious stuff. People were already showing symptoms and dying. The comments for the video said that the woman had died half an hour later in a pool of her own blood.
Damian's phone started ringing. For several seconds, he didn't notice, because he was so absorbed in reading the comments of the terrified people in the video.
Then he realized that he was getting a call, and he shifted his attention to the box on the screen that displayed who was calling.
It read, “Mom.”
He sighed and swiped to answer the phone.
“Hey, mom,” he said.
His mom was the sort of person who scared a lot of people. She was what some called a “tough cookie.” For a long time, Damian hadn't exactly understood what people had meant, even though he'd heard a lot of people talk about his mom all the way through his childhood. It wasn't until he was an adult that he understood.
She just didn't take shit from anyone.
And she wasn't happy about him living with her. In fact, the only reason that she allowed it, for a short time, was that Damian's father had just passed away recently.
His parents had been divorced since he was two years old, but he'd still seen his father on a regular basis, and the loss of him had had a tremendous impact on Damian.
“I thought you were getting a ride home from your friend,” she said. “There's all kinds of crazy stuff on the news. Are you OK?”
“Yeah, I'm OK. Are you?”
Escape the Virus Page 6
