by Samie Sands
“What do you want to do?” Jake asks quietly. “I know this is a difficult situation, but if we stay here, the infected will eventually box us in. They’re already starting to move towards us. I don’t know if it’s because they can hear us, or maybe they can smell us and they’re getting hungry. In any case, if we don’t move from here soon, we’ll end up getting stuck.”
He’s right, I know he is, but how can I make that decision? How can I choose to carry on, abandoning Michelle?
“I don’t know what to say,” I croak.
“I know.” Jake moves close to my side, he rubs my arm comfortingly. “I just can’t see what else we can do. We have no idea what direction Michelle went in, where she’s going, what she’s doing. Right now, we know nothing. All you can be sure of is that Michelle wouldn’t want you to remain here to die. She wouldn’t want you to get infected, would she?”
He hits a nerve with this statement. I’m utterly desperate not to become like those beasts that are milling about outside, just waiting for their next human victim to munch upon. I can’t bear the thought of AM13 running through my veins, turning me into something else—something that is definitely not me. Something that is willing to maim and kill others without even a second thought.
“She’s probably gone back to the office,” Jake continues, voicing the most pleasant theory that I’ve been able to come up with too. “If she didn’t want us to carry on without her, she would have let us know, wouldn’t she?”
I nod weakly, knowing I’m on the brink of making the most selfish decision possible. If I could think of any other option, I would. But there’s nothing. All I can smell around me is death. I’m so damn afraid that the fear is infecting all of my brain cells, begging me to make the choice that I don’t want to.
If everyone had just followed the Lockdown in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now. I wouldn’t be here considering leaving my best friend behind. If everyone had just listened to the information they were given, then so many lives could have been saved. There wouldn’t be all of these people wandering around, eating others and waiting for death. If only everyone had believed in the AM13 virus straight away, there’s no way it would have spread so quickly.
Mind you, who am I to talk? I supposedly found this virus and I didn’t believe in it. That seems so long ago now, like another lifetime. In just a few short days I already feel like a different person. All I was concerned about back then was my stupid reputation. How unimportant that all seems compared to what I’m facing now. Although even as I learned more, and saw just how real the danger of this infection was, I still made the decision to disobey the Lockdown. I’m not in any position to criticise anyone!
I absently wonder how many others there are, like us. Outside, avoiding the authorities and the infected equally. Trying to get somewhere they should have gone before all this started. I hope if Michelle does bump into anyone, they look after her.
“Yeah, okay,” I finally say dejectedly, accepting that leaving is our only option. There isn’t anything else I can do for my friend from here, but I might be able to help when I’m somewhere with access to phones and power. If I have to, I’ll even phone the authorities and report her as missing. Anything to ensure her safety.
I watch Jake pack up his things, noticing the terror in his eyes. He’s muttering to himself about selecting a route that progresses our journey, but also covers any areas we might have missed in our search yesterday, just in case. It’s obvious that neither of us expected a loss this monumental, and it’s hit us both hard. I just feel so useless. A tear rolls down my cheek. I never once considered doing this without Michelle. In fact, I don’t think I considered any negative possibilities, not really. Now I can’t think about anything else.
“Are we leaving Michelle’s bag here?” Jake asks. “I know that we could use the supplies, but I’d rather she have it if she comes back.”
“Yes,” I whisper, blinking the tears angrily out of my eyes. I shouldn’t be so pathetic; I don’t even deserve to cry. I’m the one safe; Michelle is out there somewhere, alone.
As we begin to walk, leaving the warehouse behind us, my whole body coils round in knots. Both of us trudge along in a morose silence, hating what we’re doing. This time, we walk alongside the road, even though it’s a very risky move. This allows us to check places we haven’t been before, whilst also making up for the lost time. Neither of us wants to be out here in the open for much longer. We both just want to be safe indoors, having completed this insane mission.
We only manage to exchange a few words throughout the day, and these are directly related to practical plans. Everything feels like we’re just going through the motions.
We eventually reach the edge of a small housing estate, which leads to a little street of shops. The first thing I notice is how dirty things have already become. I could look around and feel like the virus has been a problem for years, rather than mere weeks. Litter and grime covers the streets and the only sounds I can hear are those of small scurrying animals, grabbing all the food they can. I feel weird. Empty and lost. This can’t be reality, it just can’t.
“What should we do?” Jake asks apprehensively. “We could go this way. It would save a lot of time, but puts us at risk of being seen.”
“Let’s just risk it,” I answer, desperation overshadowing any fear of getting caught. I feel that getting home as quickly as possible is the best plan for us. “Do you think anyone would let us in if we knocked on their door? Feed us and give us a bed to sleep in?” I wonder aloud.
“Not a chance!” Jake insists. “Imagine how terrified these people are. Most of them will have seen the footage of attacks—or even seen it happen first hand. Now they’re locked indoors with only the fear-mongering media for company. There’s no way anyone would risk their families for the sake of two potentially infected strangers.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. “I would just love a warm bed tonight.”
“I’m not sure if I can get you a bed, but maybe we should head down towards the shops. We could really do with topping up our food supplies. Maybe we’ll find somewhere nice to stay tonight while we’re at it.”
I can’t stop myself from glancing in the windows of the homes that we’re trying to sneak past. In the back of my mind, I’m hunting for a friendly-looking face. Not with the hope that they’ll let us in—that’s too much to ask—but for the possibility that someone will let me use their phone. I would love the chance to ring the office. I know Jamie would verbally murder me, but I could also find out if they’ve seen Michelle. Just so I’d know. Even if they hadn’t seen her, I’m sure they would do something to help me find her.
The more I think about it, the more desperate I become for someone to see me.
Much to my disappointment, all of the suspicious eyes I was expecting simply aren’t there. No one seems to even be looking outside. We could probably just walk along normally, unnoticed. I guess there’s not much point in even opening the curtains when the only thing you’ll see is people in the grips of the virus occasionally milling about. It’s easier to pretend the horrors of the outside don’t exist.
There’s not a lot of noise coming from any of the houses. I’m not sure if people are just too bored to do anything loud, or if they’ve learnt that sound attracts the infected. I can’t imagine anyone wanting their home to be surrounded, even if they are locked away from it.
One particular house stops me in my tracks. A family is standing at the window—a mother, father, and daughter by the looks of it. They’re all infected. Obviously one of them contracted the virus, and instead of turning them in, the family hid them. It was probably the child. No one would willingly hand over their children to God knows who. As I watch them, an overwhelming sadness hits me. I wonder how many other houses are the same—filled with infected, because families risked themselves rather than giving a loved one up to the authorities. I’m surprised they haven’t been killed yet. The armed forces must have noti
ced them when doing the rounds. Why have they just left them? Maybe because inside, they can’t get to anyone else so they aren’t a priority. Or maybe they’re slowly losing control of the situation; how would we know? We’re stuck out here with no access to the news. The thought that things are spiralling negatively makes me shudder. This needs to end sometime; they have to get this virus under control. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.
Jake stands by my side, silent with a haunted look in his eyes. He’s zoomed in on the child, clearly thinking about his son. He must be so frightened that Harry is in the same condition. I open my mouth to say something comforting, but instead my brain-to-mouth filter deserts me and something else comes out instead.
“Do you really think that the only way out of this virus is death?” I instantly curse myself for being such an insensitive idiot, but it’s too late to take anything back now.
“Yes,” he snaps defensively, clearly thinking that I’m referring to the people he’s been forced to kill while we’ve been out here. “Look at them, they’re already dead. Killing them is putting them out of their misery.” I look up at him, surprised. I didn’t realise he felt so strongly about this. “None of their normal organs are functioning, they’re behaving like cannibals. They shuffle about slowly, blankly, no sign of human emotion or memory. People have bitten their own children. Do you think they’re still classed as ‘alive’? They’re already dead, plain and simple. And to be quite frank, if I was in that condition, risking other people’s lives, I’d want someone to smash an axe through my head too.”
Woah.
Jake stalks off, and I follow closely behind, just thinking this all through. Everything he’s said actually makes a lot of sense, and to be quite honest, it makes the whole thing a lot easier to deal with. If you see the infected as dead, then killing them and finishing the job really is doing them a favour. At least I’ll know if I end up like that, Jake will do the right thing. What a depressing thought. The right thing. I desperately hope it doesn’t come to that.
“Do you think there’s a cure in the works?” I finally ask. Now that I’ve started to consider the virus in more detail, I realise how little I really know about it. The way things are looking right now, if there isn’t a cure found soon, there might never be an end.
“I imagine that there’s someone, somewhere trying to fix this.” Unfortunately he doesn’t sound certain as he speaks. I was hoping he knew something I didn’t.
We’re distracted from this conversation by finally reaching the street of shops. It’s weirdly empty without any shoppers—like a ghost town. I didn’t exactly expect anything different, but it’s still strange. The shops all feel really familiar, reminding me of before. Of my old life. Of popping out to the shops on a Saturday to buy a little something, despite not really having any money. Of heading to the supermarket after work to get something in for dinner. Of panicking that I might not be able to pass off my second-hand clothes as new at work, trying to impress my colleagues who always seemed so much more glamorous than me. Funny how much time I spent worrying about the opinions of all the people I just walked away from without even a second glance. How ironic that when it comes down to it, I don’t really care about any of them.
Except Michelle, of course, but if I think about her too much I’ll break down. I need to wait until we’re inside somewhere safe, where I don’t need my wits about me, before I can let that happen.
The food shop shelves are almost empty. I guess they’ve either already been looted by others out here like us, or everything was sold before the Lockdown began. I guess shop owners didn’t bother to restock in the knowledge that they would be shut for a while.
To my utter distaste, I notice many of them were running ‘End of the World Sales.’ How classy! That’s just mocking and taking advantage of a terrible situation, even if they didn’t really realise the true extent of those words when they first wrote them. Although, I suppose in a way it’s no different than what Jamie did at the news station. He was using the story to up our ratings and further our careers—we all were.
We eventually come across one small corner shop which doesn’t have any sale signs on display. It’s still stocked much better than the others, which is good news for us, so we decide to break into this one and shelter for the night.
We start to force the door open as quietly as possible, fully in the knowledge that danger can lurk around any corner. My heart is heavily pounding and my breaths are shaky as I hear the click and snapping sound of the lock breaking. We’re in!
I grin at Jake as I spot the rows and rows of chocolate bars in front of us. I rush forward quickly, grabbing handfuls of treats. You don’t realise how much you miss sugar until it’s gone. I peel open a wrapper and scarf the bar so quickly you’d think I hadn’t eaten for months. The taste is so sweet and heavenly; it brings my taste buds alive and forms a contented warm feeling in my stomach.
Until I notice that Jake hasn’t joined me. He’s still by the door, frozen on the spot. Why isn’t he eating anything? He must be starving, I know I am. My instincts tell me to walk over to him, to find out what has him so worried. I creep over to him slowly, trying not to make any noise, suddenly feeling sick with fear. All I want to do is grab Jake and hide behind him, while we get as far away from here as possible.
Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.
The feeling of unease suddenly explodes inside of me, when I see what Jake is looking at. The shop owner. Stood there, right in front of us. How the hell did I not spot him before? I open my mouth to apologise, to tell him that I’ll pay for the food, to convince him that we’re not infected and he’s safe in our presence. My mind is running ten to the dozen, trying to figure out exactly what I should say first. He shuffles forward, his age obviously slowing him down. I back away.
When he steps into the light, I understand. There’s no point in saying anything. Nothing will work. He’s no longer human. He’s infected. He’s dead.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
He’s disgusting. I’ve never seen one this close before, heading towards me with such vigour. I’ve always done my best to avert my eyes from the infected, but now time seems to freeze as I can’t drag my gaze away. What I thought was him shuffling was actually him dragging his broken, bloodied leg behind him. This wound is so deep I can see bone poking through. I can’t help but retch.
The bite on his shoulder is absolutely huge and rancid—all blackened from the infection. His arm is hanging down by his side, completely useless. He’ll never be able to move that again, no matter what happens. His face is also in a terrible state. His skin is a deep grey, much murkier than the others I’ve seen. He must have been infected for a very long time. The bags under his eyes droop incredibly low, causing his face to look deformed. The blood running down his skin, staining all his clothes, looks really old. Scratch marks cover his torso; he looks as if he’s been brutally beaten in some awful fight. I would never have thought someone could survive these injuries, they’re just so severe. People have died over much less, and yet here he is, still moving towards us, baring his teeth, ready and waiting to eat.
Jake pulls me hard and I stumble backwards, tripping over a box. I hit the ground hard and suddenly find myself unable to move, as if I’m physically paralysed by fear. It’s almost as if I’m having an out of body experience, looking down at myself, screaming run. Something is pulling me upwards, but my body is too sluggish to comply. It just won’t do what I want it to, I’m too panicked. Now I understand how Tim was feeling when he was attacked and unable to scale the fence. Limp and useless. I know an assault is imminent, but I can’t do anything to stop it. I’m utterly screwed, and I’m just sitting here, waiting for it to happen.
I’m shaking, sobs rising up in my chest. I’m going to die if I don’t get up now, so why can’t I? All I need to do is make my way over to the door, but it feels a million miles away. I don’t even know where Jake is. I can hear him hissing at
me, encouraging me to move, but I can’t see him anywhere. He might have even made it outside already. If so, he should probably run before he has to witness my death.
Thud. The loud noise shocks me into looking up. Thud. There it is again. This time it’s following by a sloshing sound, like a wet mop hitting the ground. I need to locate the source of the noise. I need to know what’s happening, how long I have left. Can I escape? Can I really survive this? My heart leaps into my dry, panicked mouth and my slick palms slide across the ground.
It’s Jake; I can finally see him. He’s absolutely covered in blood. His axe is discarded on the ground next to him. He’s offering me a hand. I reach up tentatively to grab it, still trying to piece together the scene around me.
“He’s…?” I can’t finish my sentence. I can’t vocalise all the hundreds of questions that are swirling around in my mind.
“Yes, Leah, he’s gone.” Jake blows out some air, as if all the stress is seeping out of his body.
Relief floods my chest, pushing away some of the numb sensation. I’ve never had a near death experience before, so I’m not sure how you’re supposed to feel. We sit silent for a while, just the sounds of our heavy breathing to keep us company. The shop owner doesn’t move again, so I can feel myself starting to relax in his presence. I wonder what happened to him, how he managed to get into that state, when he got bitten—all of these questions that we’ll never get the answer to now that he’s gone forever.
Jake instructs me to grab as much food as I can carry, to try and stock up on enough to get us all the way home, so we don’t have to go through anything like this again. I agree emphatically. I don’t think I’d ever be brave enough to step foot inside a shop again until all of this is over.
Neither of us suggests sleeping inside the shop, even though we probably could, happy in the knowledge that we’re safe. We both just want to get as far away from the infected man as possible.
