AM13 Outbreak Series (Book 2): Forgotten

by Samie Sands

  CHAPTER 10

  ALYSSA

  There’s a man, all scruffy and covered in blood. His clothes are torn and hanging off of his body. He’s wild-eyed and sprinting quickly towards me. Is he infected? Maybe he’s been homeless during the Lockdown or something. I’m in way better condition than he is, but then I’ve only just come outside.

  I’m frozen to the spot, watching everything progress in slow motion. I can’t work out if he’s a zombie or not. He’s running, which goes against what I’ve learnt of AM13, but then viruses can evolve. I’ve read plenty of books where that happens, but it’s usually caused by something—a nuclear bomb, maybe—and that certainly hasn’t happened here. They would have warned us if there was any chance of radiation poisoning, wouldn’t they? I seriously hope that doesn’t happen. I don’t want to suffer that long, agonising death.

  So if I assume he’s alive, then why the hell is he gripping tightly onto the hand of a woman who is without a doubt riddled with the disease? Why would anyone pull a zombie along with them as they run? That’s what you’re supposed to be escaping from.

  I’m fascinated by her appearance. Her head is partially caved in, obviously not quite enough to kill her yet, but it still looks pretty horrific. Her mouth is ripped wide open, which makes her growling much louder than any I’ve heard before. She is dragging a bloody stump behind her, with bones poking out at all angles. Intestines are dangling down under her shirt and clumps of black blood are sporadically falling from her. She looks so much like a stereotypical beaten up, old zombie, just like a Hollywood construct, that she doesn’t frighten me at all, despite the fact that she smells appalling. Even though she’s completely disgusting, I feel completely desensitised to her. She snaps violently towards the man holding her, but the motion means she can’t get close enough to reach him.

  Tension grips me as they get closer. I’ve mentally prepared myself for the possibility of zombie battles, but I didn’t expect to be forced to kill someone alive, but if he threatens me with his little ‘pet,’ I’m going to have to, aren’t I? It’ll be so much harder fighting someone with the same mental capacity of me, plus this guy is probably some kind of psychopath. Apocalyptic situations are well known for bringing the worst out in people.

  I’m going to have to make myself look like a formidable enemy. If he thinks there’s a chance I might beat him, he may leave me alone. Or is that just wishful thinking? I grip onto the golf club harder, very aware of its location right above my head, if I’m going to swing, I need to do it at exactly the right moment. I’ve got to be clever; my reflexes need to be perfect.

  As they descend onto me, the golf club starts to slip. My palms are sweating profusely and it’s getting harder to keep hold of the metal pole. “Stop it!” I hiss at myself under my breath. “Stop it now, you can do this. No, you have to do this. You’ve got no choice.” I click my tongue, a habit I got into to help me concentrate. It’s how I got through my GCSE exams last year.

  The man and his zombie pass by me in a blur, knocking me backwards, not even acknowledging my existence.

  “Hey!” I cry after them involuntarily, causing the man to turn and face me. He doesn’t stop moving, not even for a split second, but I can immediately see the pain and fear deep-rooted in his eyes. The woman must be someone important to him, someone he loved and he obviously can’t let go. Maybe it was his wife. Either way, it isn’t going to end well. Maybe he’s running so that no one kills her, or maybe he knows that if he stops for too long, she will kill him.

  I want to laugh at his idiocy. He’s made a fatal mistake; he’s allowing feelings to affect his decisions. That’s a sure-fire way to end up shuffling and moaning in amongst the rest of the zombie population. Well, if that’s what he wants to do, then so be it. You wouldn’t catch me doing anything so stupid.

  Suddenly, another sound gets my attention. I turn slowly; just to be faced with the real reason that guy was running.

  CHAPTER 11

  ETHAN

  I lean over the bath tub, trying to ignore the pounding that’s getting louder and louder by the second. I need something to lure Clare away from the door, but what? Unless a loud noise blares out or another person appears somewhere, I’m stuck. I’m going to have to fight. I’m going to have to attack my fiancée to keep myself alive. I don’t want to hurt her or damage her in anyway. If a miracle cure does appear I don’t want any of the changes to her to be my fault. She may have memories of me smacking her and then we’ll never get back together. I couldn’t bear it.

  I grab the crowbar, forcing myself to make a move. I’ve spent my entire life trying to prevent myself from getting ill; I really don’t want to die via one of the worst diseases humanity has ever experienced. I just…I can’t let that happen.

  If I can stun Clare, for even a second, I can run out of that door and not come back until I have some answers. Really I’m doing all of this for her. I’m trying to find out if there is an end to the disease in sight, just for the slight possibility that I might get my beautiful Clare back.

  I hold onto the lock and time stands still. I can hear the ticking of a clock very loud, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. It could just be my own mind. The negative voice in the back of my head, the one that has prevented me from doing so much with my life, starts yelling louder than ever before. “Go out there and you’re going to get infected. Go out there and you’ll die. Go out there and you and Clare will eternally be in that horrendous condition.” I shake it away; I don’t need this now. I can’t be crippled by the demons that have always haunted me. There are more important things at stake here. I’ve got to push through the barrier and beat it. I’ve got no other choice. Listening to it has brought me nothing but misery in my life, I need to break out of the vicious cycle that has been tightening its grip on me for as long as I can remember.

  I push the door open and she comes flying through it, landing on the floor. I watch her for a second, my heart aching. Her gorgeous blonde hair, usually tied into a neat bouffant, is straggly and full of grime. Her pale skin is dirty and rotten. Her eyes are blank, there is nothing left of her wonderful personality. I no longer recognise anything about the woman I love so dearly. She scrabbles around, trying to get to her feet. Her lack of awareness, her stupidity, hurts most of all. Clare is such an intelligent woman, I know she must despise being like this. I raise the crowbar, ready to do what’s right, ready to put her out of her misery, but instead I bring it crashing down onto the toilet seat, smashing it to pieces. The noise grabs her focus and I rush out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

  Tears stream out of my eyes and I slump back against the door. The weeping turns into full blown sobbing that causes everything to start aching. I want things to go back to the way they were. Why did AM13 have to come along and wreck absolutely everything? This is beyond awful; it’s a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. Suddenly a scratching sound shakes me out of my coma. She’s already reacting, still trying to get to me. I wish she could recognise me, but it was widely reported that victims would lose their memories quickly once infected. It’s absolutely devastating for the love of my life to regard me as a stranger.

  Before I get a chance to move, I feel something dripping on my hand. Blood. Her blood. Alarm shoots through me in an unexpected rupture. I hold my hand as far away from my body as I can, sprinting down the stairs.

  The sight of a kitchen sinks calms my heart beat slightly. I scrub my skin roughly, until my hand is red, raw, and peeling, but I need to be absolutely certain that every scrap of the blood is gone. I can’t bear the thought of that awful illness touching me, even for a second. Especially after seeing it so close up. I only stop scouring when I hear Clare start to move clumsily down the stairs. She has escaped from the bathroom already. I need to get out; I don’t want to risk another fight.

  I know I won’t catch AM13 just by the blood of an infected touching my skin, unless it gets into a previous cut, but I can’t afford to take any risks. I don
’t want to die, not now. I grab my things together, knowing that I need to leave this very second. When I get out of here, I won’t stop again until I make it to the airport.

  CHAPTER 12

  ALYSSA

  “Oh crap.” A horde. An absolutely massive horde of zombies is slowly heading this way. A larger group than I’ve ever seen in any film. More than I thought could even exist. It seems to go on as far as the eye can see. I didn’t even realise that many people lived in the UK! They’re heading towards me, terribly excited at the sight of a living, breathing human. This is not something I expected to encounter so quickly in my adventure. In fact, I was hoping to avoid immense groups like this altogether.

  They make the few that I spotted out of the front of my house seem like a walk in the park. By now all of those zombies must have joined this group too. Do I have time to run back home and go out the other side? Do I want to risk that? No, I think the only option I have is to sprint faster than I’ve ever gone before. I’m so glad I made a point of always keeping active; my fitness level should be able to cope with this, no problem.

  * * *

  My heart is racing in my ears, each breath is painful and my feet feel red raw, but I force myself to keep on going. There were hundreds, possibly thousands of zombies, and realistically I have no true idea of their abilities. Much as I want to rely on my knowledge based on what I’ve seen, read, and researched, I need to keep smart. If I let myself stop, one of them could be right behind me, and that’s a risk I just can’t take.

  I haven’t dared to look. Spinning around to see what’s going on behind me takes up precious seconds, time that could be the difference between life and death. I can barely feel my body anymore, I can hardly breathe. If I don’t stop running soon, I’m going to collapse. I’m mentally trying to prepare to fight, to take on any that may have caught up with me. I’m not going to let any of them eat me. I need to survive.

  Luckily, I can still feel a tiny bit of fighting spirit within me, even though I’m totally knackered. I’m the person most prepared for this situation; I’m the one who has been careful and sensible. I deserve to be safe in a refugee camp, more than anyone else does. I deserve to live, I’ve proved myself. I can be a useful asset; the camp needs someone like me.

  It isn’t long before I fall to my knees, unable to move any more. My body is giving up, even if my mind is still willing me to keep on going. I quickly flick my eyes behind me, and to my relief, nothing is there. Taking in deep gasping breaths, I look around at my surroundings, taking everything in. My eyes are shocked at how far I have managed to run, my brain trying to take in everything I must have passed without even noticing. I must have been running at a lightning pace. I’ve made it. I’ve actually done it.

  The airport is right ahead.

  CHAPTER 13

  ETHAN

  “Just keep moving, Ethan, you can do this.” I’m back to giving myself pep talks. Being alone is not suiting me at all. That realisation has hit me much harder since seeing Clare. Now I feel lonelier than ever. No parents, no family, no fiancée. What if everyone I have ever known is infected? What if they never recover? I’ll have to start all over again. I’ll have to resort back to explaining my condition to everyone I meet. I hate that. I hate finally opening up about my OCD just to be faced with mild panic before their eyes glaze over. People who have never been afflicted don’t understand. They assume you should be able to just stop your ticks, that you should just ignore your inner voice. They don’t understand how serious and crippling it can be.

  No, I need to stop focusing on the future. I just need to concentrate on what’s happening right now or I won’t have any more days alive to be worried about. Every single sound is making me paranoid. Every shadow is one of them; every breath I take is tainted with their scent.

  I’m lightly jogging, trying to keep a steady pace. I want to get to the airport as quickly as possible now. No more messing about. There I can be protected; there’ll be armed forces, or police officers—people with sufficient weapons and the ability to protect me, at least. Then I can relax, then every single move won’t be filled with dread. The government is bound to have a lot of security this time, especially after all of their previous mistakes. They wouldn’t want to drag everyone outside just to get them killed, surely.

  As I’m thinking all of this through, I almost miss a vital moaning sound coming from behind me. I swing around at the last second, just to see a man with his disgusting, bloody body shuffling slowly towards me. My lip curls up in revulsion. His cheeks are sunken in, his eyes rolled back into his head; his skin is grey and flaky. He is moaning lustfully, snarling. Having an infected so close to me messes with my mind. My imagination loses control. I feel AM13 filling my veins and blocking off my airways.

  Just as he reaches out to claw at me, my senses come flooding back in a rush of trepidation. My reflexes kick in and I bring the crowbar down on his head with an almighty force. It doesn’t kill him, or even knock him out, but blood spurts out in every direction. All I did was push him back a few paces, but that’s enough for me to make my getaway. It’s such a blessing that the infected cannot move fast. It’s the one thing that gives the uninfected the upper edge. It’s the only reason we might beat the disease. If they had the ability to run as fast as we do, I think everyone would have succumbed to it already.

  I’ve got to be more careful, it’ll be distraction that gets me killed at this rate. At least my doomsday voice didn’t keep my feet rooted to the spot, in the way I suspected it might. I actually reacted in a life-saving manner—self-preservation kicked in at exactly the right moment. For once I actually beat out my affliction and I can be proud of myself.

  I keep up my faster pace, and soon I can see it in the distance—the airport. There are many bodies surrounding it, I can’t tell from here if they’re infected or healthy like me, finally reaching their destination, but I don’t stop going. I’m here. I’m excited that I’ll finally get at least some of the answers I need.

  CHAPTER 14

  ALYSSA

  I’m not exactly walking, not exactly running, either. I’m just trying to move at a quiet, cautious pace. I certainly don’t want to attract any more attention to myself. I don’t need any more incidents like the horde until I’ve managed to pull myself together. I’m not myself at the moment, I’m still shaken up. I don’t like feeling this way at all, it doesn’t suit me. I can’t even get control of my body; it’s nervously twitching like crazy.

  I’ve never been one to let anxiety get the better of me. Even though we’ve always moved around a lot because of my dad’s job, I never had any trouble making new friends. Lexi was shy and hated it with a passion, but I’ve never struggled with being assertive, and that helped me rise in the popularity stakes quickly. In fact, we haven’t actually lived here for that long, so it’s amazing that I know where the airport is.

  I’d only just started college. I was studying a random mix of A-Level subjects that I thought might interest me because I’ve never enjoyed academic subjects. Photography, Film Studies, and Design. They were all right I suppose, but I don’t think I was going to use them when I finally reached real life. I think I was always destined to end up in some tedious, mindless job that I would hate. Not anymore though, now life will never be the same. Now the zombie apocalypse has come along to save me from a life of boredom. At least there’s one positive.

  I want to try to recapture that feeling of being the heroine in a film. I was coping a lot better when I had that thought constantly in my mind. I shake my head and put on a determined expression. I imagine the cameras are rolling and I’m acting out a scene. Immediately I feel calmer and stronger. I’m Alyssa, I don’t get scared.

  It’ll be great to reach the airport, which I’m getting closer to by the second. I can’t wait to start the next part of the adventure. Even though I never let my expression break, I can’t help but think I never could’ve really prepared for this. Much as I thought I had, seeing it in reali
ty is a completely different ball game. Learning to fight and survive doesn’t prepare you for dealing with a cannibal that is solely focused on eating you. That’s its only mission, and you can’t exactly reason with a zombie. They’re terrifying enemies—worse than I ever thought they could be.

  One of the zombies has been heading towards me for a while now. I’ve been keeping watch on her out of the corner of my eye and now the time has come to take her out. I raise the golf club above my head, trying to keep my cool. I keep moving, waiting for the right moment, and swing with as much brute force as I can muster. She falls to the ground with a splat. I force my legs to keep going, I don’t want to stop. I want that moment to be badass, and I think I may have succeeded. I glance back and see her still lying on the ground in a pile of her own filth, scrabbling to get up. I smile to myself; at least I did that right.

  I walk up to the terminal, anticipation fizzing through me. I screw my nose up in uncertainty. It seems kind of abandoned here. I didn’t expect that at all. I don’t know what I was thinking would greet me, people guiding us in? Officials waiting outside to let us know the right way to go? Anyway, my perception must be wrong. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, working myself up before I’m certain of the truth.

  Nerves kick up a gear as I walk forwards. My next escapade is about to be decided. I’m about to find out where we’re heading next, what security the refugee camps will have, what life will be like there. I wonder what job I’ll be allocated. I hope I land something exciting. I hope it isn’t a campsite we’re going to be living in. It’s far too cold for that, plus I really don’t like the idea of sleeping in a tent. I’d be much more content inside some sort of building.