Watch the World Burn
Page 1
Watch the World Burn
By Amber White
Prequel to Tonight the World Dies
Copywrite 2013
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Chapter 1
“How do you expect to get on the wrestling team if you can’t even beat me?” I taunted my friend Dean.
“Oh, you are so going down!” He said.
“Yeah, right.” I scoffed.
“I play the winner next!” Sully said from the couch.
It wasn’t hard to wrestle Dean to the ground. I had been raised as the only child of an ex-military man, and could take down an entire football team with my bare hands. I had him pinned within three minutes.
“Good match, for a girl.” Dean laughed. He looked happy enough, but I knew it hurt him, losing to a girl.
“Sorry bro, if it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t raised like a chick.” I told him.
“Yeah, but I still lost to one.” He grumbled, joining his sister on the couch.
Sully stood in front of me. “You ready?” He asked.
“Ready.” I nodded.
We tore into each other. He was stronger than Dean, and a lot more experienced in wrestling and fighting, having three older brothers. Within a few minutes, he was close to pinning me down, so I pulled the dirtiest trick I could think of to distract him: I strained forward under his grasp and kissed him.
It didn’t work out the way I expected. Instead of him loosening his grip enough for me to overpower him, he pinned me flat to the carpet, his body on mine, and returned the kiss.
“You can’t cheat like that.” He whispered. “I cheat back.” He slid off of me, grinning. “Looks like I’m the champion!” He said.
I grumbled at him and hopped to my feet. “I have to admit,” I smiled good naturedly at him. “You beat me fair and square.” I patted him on the back and returned to my spot on the couch, shoving Dean playfully towards his sister to make some room.
The four of us squeezed together on the couch, sweating and tired, to watch a bit of TV before dinner was ready. I turned the set on and flipped through the channels, stopping when I saw a news broadcast. A reporter was standing in front of a hospital a few towns over.
“The patient had been admitted to the hospital with an unknown infection. While in the doctor’s care, sources say the patient became increasingly deranged and angered before finally attacking the nurse attending to him, biting her hand and removing a chunk of flesh. It is still unknown what caused this outburst, or what the patient was sick with, but sources do say the nurse that was attacked is being treated for her wound, and is being monitored overnight for possible signs of a similar infection.” The reporter said into her microphone.
“Somebody’s been watching Night of the Living Dead a little too much.” Billie laughed.
“Or they have rabies.” I said.
“What? Like Cujo?” Billie asked.
“Not everything can be related to horror movies.” I said. “But yes, a bit like Cujo.”
“You kids need to go get washed up for dinner!” My mom called from the kitchen.
“Okay Ma’.” I called back.
“Second time this month,” My dad mumbled, coming down the hall.
“Dad?” I asked.
“Yes?” He said.
“What was the second time this month?”
“An attack like what they just said on the news.”
“There was another one?” I asked.
“Last week. In New York.” He answered.
“Do they know what’s causing this?”
“They won’t say. Government cover-up if I ever saw one.” He said and walked into the kitchen.
“Your dad OK?” Sully whispered behind me.
“He’s fine. He’s just concerned over what’s been going on.” I whispered back.
“Who wouldn’t be?” Sully said, softly before springing up off of the couch.
We raced down the hall to the bathroom. He beat me by a hair, skidding inside and standing squarely in front of the sink, blocking my way.
“Bitch.” I teased.
“Jerk.” He said with a laugh.
I heard Billie and Dean plodding up behind me.
“Come on, hurry up! We’re hungry!” Billie said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
We washed quickly, playfully splashing water at one another and rushed to the table, nearly running each other over.
“Calm down you kids, there’s plenty for everyone.” My mother said.
“You know Mrs. Dagen, this has to be the best lasagna I have ever tasted,” Sully said, mouth full of pasta and cheese.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full dear, but thank you.” Mom said.
Weeks ticked by, and more and more people were getting sick. It was an epidemic like we had never seen.
Finally, near the end of the school year, it happened. The halls and classrooms were buzzing with shocking news after lunch. The infection had finally reached our little town. TVs blared from every class, each playing the same news station, the story recapped repeatedly all afternoon:
“Alarmed neighbors called police when they heard a woman screaming from inside the home. Police arrived on the scene to find Ralph Weaver, a local truck driver, bent over the body of his dead wife, consuming chunks of flesh he apparently ripped off of her while she was still alive. A police spokesperson reported that the officers on the scene opened fire after Weaver charged them. The spokesperson has reported the officers involved are in the hospital for overnight observation, but will not reveal their condition. Sources say this could very well be caused by the same infection plaguing the rest of the country.”
It continued like that for a few hours before it was leaked that not only where the officers in the hospital for overnight observation,but that they were in an isolated wing, and the CDC had been called in. The townspeople were in a panic now. The teachers were considering sending everyone home early when the Principal’s voice boomed from the loudspeakers:
“Students are to remain in class until the designated release time. They are then to leave their classrooms and the parking lot in an orderly fashion after the final bell. Please remain calm. That is all.”
It was difficult to concentrate on my work with my fellow classmates talking over each other, panic sending the voices of the girls into dog whistle territory- high pitched and annoying as hell. My cellphone buzzed in my pocked. I looked around. The teacher was speaking in hushed tones to someone, his head down, the receiver of the class phone pressed firmly against his ear. I pulled my cell out and checked the screen under my desk. Mom was calling.
Quickly, I pressed the end button and started a new text message. ‘Can’t talk.In class. What’s wrong? Is Dad ok?’
A minute later, her response popped up: ‘Dad’s fine. We’re concerned with what’s going on. Come home as soon as you get out.’
‘Will do.’I texted. After that, the bell couldn’t ring fast enough. If my parents were worried enough to try to call and text while I was in school, this had to be worse than others were letting on.
As soon as I entered the front door of my house, my mother ran up to me and flung her arms around my neck.
“Is there something I should know?” I asked, pulling away slightly. This was not like her.
“One of my Army buddies’ sons told him that the co
ps were starting to show symptoms of the ‘infection’.” My dad said from the couch, “It’s spreading even quicker now. That boy also overheard the CDC fellas talking about how it’s already spread through most of Asia, and it an’t showing signs of slowing down.”
“Come inside dear, sit down.” My mom said, pulling me toward the couch.
“Look Joanna. We started talking to your friends’ parents today while you were at school. As bad as things are getting, we decided to send you kids up to the cabin for a week to wait things out, see if it gets any better. If it doesn’t, we’ll try to join you and figure out a plan. We need you to pack a bag, bring enough clothes for two weeks, just in case, and your mother and I will pack up some of the MREs we have here so you can have something in case you get stuck on the road.” My dad said.
He wasn’t kidding about this.
“Ok Dad,” I said quietly, rising slowly.
“Double time, girl.” He said.
This was really happening. My parents had to be really worried- no- afraid to send me and my friends to the cabin alone in a situation like this. He preferred to ‘keep the unit together in emergencies’.
I hustled to my room. He was right, this was no time to drag my feet. Grabbing my larger duffle bag, I quickly and carefully packed all the clean clothes I could reach, being sure to load my knives within easy reach, a box of matches in one pocket, a few lighters in another, yanking my canteen off the hook by my door and filling it in the bathroom.
With my duffle slung over my shoulder, my canteen around my neck, I stood in the living room, facing the kitchen.
“I’m ready,” I called.
Dad walked in from the garage, hefting a backpack with one shoulder, car keys in hand.
“You’re taking the crew cab,” He said, I nodded.
“I’ll see you next week,” I told Mom.
A tear ran down her cheek as she stepped forward, hugging me tightly.
“I love you, Mom.” I said.
“I love you too dear. Be safe.” She said with a sob.
“I will,” I said giving her one last hug.
Outside, Dad helped me secure the bags in the lock box before pressing a small key into my palm.
“The key to the gun safe?” I asked.
“Just in case.” He said. “Your friends are going to meet you in ten minutes at the front entrance to Andrew Park. Call me on the radio when you get to the cabin, and I’ll give you status updates every day at thirteen-hundred hours. Be careful.” He patted my shoulder, and then pulled me into a hug.
“I will, Dad. I love you.” I said.
“I love you too.” He said, letting me go.
As I drove off, I looked back at my parents through the rearview mirror. If I had known it would be the last time I would ever see them, I would have gone back for them, made them come with me. I contemplated doing just that, but the determined look on my father’s face told me I would have to drag him kicking and screaming all the way to the cabin.
The guys pulled up next to me in the park ten minutes later, and waved goodbye to their parents before hopping into the truck with me.
“Wow,” Dean said. “I can’t believe our parents are sending us away just because someone in town went crazy.”
“He was sick. It could be what’s spreading around the country. They just don’t want to risk us getting it.” Sully said.
“Just think of it this way,” Billie said, “It’s a weeks’ vacation off of school, by ourselves.”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her exuberant expression.
To keep our minds off of the horrendous events that had the townspeople bolting their doors shut, and were even then unfolding in reports on nearly every radio station, we picked out a CD, turning the volume up so loud I thought my ears might bleed, and sang along in what I can only describe as Chinese water torture made audible. Looking back, I’m amazed we hadn’t been arrested or shot dead by merciful assassins. Yeah, it was that bad.
As soon as we reached the cabin, Billie flung herself across one of the chairs, stretching her long limbs and popping her back across the armrest.
My friends looked around, taking in the rustic décor.
“Oh. My. God.”Billie said, suddenly horrified.
“What?” Dean, Sully and I asked, expecting to see a gigantic spider or a severed head somewhere nearby.
“There’s no TV. Why is there no TV?” She said.
Dean rolled his eyes at his sister. “What room are we sleeping in?” He asked, ignoring the feeble noises Billie was now making.
“You and Sully have the first door on the right.” I said.
As he and Sully made their way to their room, Billie stumbled toward me, her eyes the size of dinner plates.
“Why is there no TV Jo?” She said, grabbing my collar and shaking me, a sly smile hidden just beneath her wide eyes.
“Stop freaking out, will you? There’s no reception out here. Not even cell phones.” I said.
The horrified look melted off her face, quickly replaced by a smirk.
“You’re kidding me, right?” She said.
I shook my head. Her smile faltered.
“I…I was just joking about the TV. Please tell me we have cell reception and some sort of TV, even if we can only watch old movies.”
“No reception,” I said again. “We just have the CB and a few board games.”
She looked truly horrified then, snatching her cellphone from her pocket and holding it above her, searching for a signal I knew she wouldn’t find.
“What fresh Hell is this?” She whispered, holding her phone high and low, tracing almost every square inch of the room she could reach, looking like a demented squirrel trying to find the perfect hiding place for its nuts.
“It’s called the middle of nowhere.” I say, trying not to laugh. “Once you’re done with that, our room is to the left.”
I dropped my pack into the chair in our room and plopped down onto the bed, kicking off my boots and stretching. It was good to be back here, even if it wasn’t a hunting trip with my parents.
“We haven’t even been here for an hour, and I’m already losing my sanity.” Billie said, bursting through the door and collapsing next to me on the bed.
“When did you find it?” I asked.
Billie smacked my side playfully.
“Ugh.” I said, sitting up. “I still need to call my parents. I’ll be back.”
Walking quickly back into the living room, I flipped on the radio, letting it warm up and checking that it was on the right station before picking up the microphone and holding it to my lips.
“Papa Bear, this is Wolf Girl- come in.” I said.
My only answer was static.
“Papa Bear, come in.” I said again.
“Go for Papa Bear.” Dad said, slightly out of breath.
“We made it up here safe and sound. What’s the status back home?”
“No change.”
“Then you and Mama Bear are all right?”
“10-4. She just made dinner. Speaking of, you kids help yourselves to the MREs.”
“Thanks Papa Bear. I’ll leave the radio on in case you need to reach us. This is Wolf Girl, out.” I said, putting the microphone back in its cradle.
“Did I hear the mention of food?” Dean asked, coming up behind me.
“There are MRE’s in the cupboard next to the stove.” I said, turning to face him.
“What are MRE’s?” He asked, giving me a strange look.
“Meals Ready to Eat.”
He shrugged, as if saying ‘go on’.
“MRE’s are pre-packaged food that can be eaten cold or heated and can last for about three years before going bad. Depending on which one you get, they generally taste pretty good.” I said.
“Depending on which one you get? Which ones should I avoid then?” He asked.
“The spaghetti and the cheese spread ones.” Sully said. He had managed to slip into the room and re
st himself against the far wall without us noticing.
“How would you know?” Dean asked, whipping around.
“Because I dared him to eat them one time when we were freshmen.” I said, smiling.
“Yeah, remember? No one would use that bathroom for like, six months because of the smell?” Sully said.
“Ugh. That was you? I didn’t know a human being could possibly make that smell.” Dean said.
“Eat the cheese spread one, and down it with coffee powder. You’ll experience it first-hand.” Sully said with a laugh.
Chapter 2
Our first night at the cabin was spent playing old board games for a few hours until we became ridiculously bored and cast around for something else to do.
“You guys want something really fun to do?” Sully asked.
“No, we’re sitting here thinking of fun things to do because we want to avoid them at all costs.” Dean said with a sigh.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
He laughed manically in response.
“I know that laugh.” I said. “It means you’re thinking of things that would make parents clap their hands over their children’s eyes.”
Still laughing, he slipped into his room for a minute then came back with two bottles in his hands.
“Where did you get those?” I asked, shocked.
“My brother bought them for me.” He said with a grin.
“Wait, your brother bought you two bottles of Irish Crème?” Billie asked.
“Yeah,” Sully said.
“Man, I kinda wish my brother was that awesome.”
“What are you talking about? I am that awesome.” Dean said, mock offence on his face.
“Let’s get this party really started!” Sully said, removing the cap from one of the bottles.
It was wonderfully creamy going down but left a shudder inducing aftertaste I had to purge from my tongue with a piece of an MRE cracker with each swallow. The bottle was passed around again and again, Sully having no problem with the taste, but Billie kept making faces after she drank.
I started to feel light headed after a while, and suddenly everything was much more funny. The bottle was gone in an hour.
“Dude, I am soooo trashed.” Dean said, snickering.
Billy laughed, and then I laughed. Sully started laughing next, and we couldn’t stop ourselves.
Reduced to giggling fits, we amused ourselves by playing charades, to hilarious effect. After cackle-inducing portrayals of random movie characters and historical figures, we collapsed in a heap on the floor, shaking with laughter and out of breath.