AM13 Outbreak Series (Book 2): Forgotten

by Samie Sands

  4. Jake Riding, 31, Press Photographer.

  5”4’, 62kg, green eyes, brown hair.

  Existing medical condition—ARLD.

  His mother is in the camp. He lost his father and sister just before the Lockdown.

  He was brought in during his transition between the first and second stage, which allowed me to obtain a lot of useful data. He was very coherent at first, discussing his experiences with me, despite his condition. He hasn’t moved on to the third stage yet, despite being here for five days. It has been a very slow and painful process for him—need to figure out what makes the infection affect him slower? He experiences bursts of rage, during which he does a lot of damage to his body. He has also been clawing at his skin regularly, but this has resulted in a lot more damage than specimen two.

  5. Ruby-Ann Eastley, 22, Waitress/Actress.

  5”0’, 52kg pale blue eyes, long blonde hair.

  No existing medical conditions.

  Doesn’t seem to have any family left, came here with a group of friends.

  She has been here for over a week and is still only showing flu-like symptoms. I haven’t been able to determine if this is AM13 or just influenza, but I have to keep her here, just to be safe. Despite the incessant questions from her that I cannot answer, she is tired and woozy, but this doesn’t determine either way. I want to keep an eye on this one because I think if she does transition, she will be very interesting to watch. No damage to her body as yet—will continue to report if things change.

  6. Tyler Williams, 27, Semi-Professional Football Player.

  6”1’, 70kg, green eyes, light brown hair.

  Says in his notes that he’s suffered a sports-related knee injury in the recent months.

  His younger sister is currently in the camp.

  The worst case I currently have. The damage to his body is irreparable. He was brought in during the third stage of infection. His intestines have fallen from a hole in his stomach, three bones are sticking out from his leg. His left leg is at a very uncomfortable angle, but this doesn’t appear to cause him any problems. I have seen a noticeable difference within him. He was very aggressive at first, banging on the glass, even talking a little bit—similar to specimen three, but in the last twelve hours, he has quieted down and slumped to the floor. Given up? Condition worsening? Time will only tell.

  7. Emma Kenshole, 16, GCSE Student.

  5”3’, 51kg, dark brown eyes, dark blonde hair.

  Her notes suggest she may have suffered from anxiety, but with a large question mark, so this information isn’t confirmed.

  Her grandmother is in camp.

  She is the quietest specimen I currently have. She was brought in during stage one. I don’t know if she was coherent or not because she stayed silent. Now in stage two, she looks as if she is suffering the same pain as the others, but she still isn’t making any noise. I haven’t been able to find out any more information about her. According to the board, her grandmother suffers from mild dementia, so isn’t responding well to questioning. I intend to run many more tests on this specimen.

  Age seems to have no impact, nor gender or race. Although I’ve not been given any specific details about race, I can clearly see that skin pigmentation has no impact. Every single specimen has reacted differently to the virus, aside from the basic three stages. A lot of the damage to the victims of the disease will be a huge challenge to repair. If I find a cure, the hospitals will be full. The medical staff, knowledge, and funds are all scarce. I’m sure this will be an added strain, which may not have a high success rate.

  I’ve come to the conclusion that an antidote is the most obvious solution. I know this may not be the ideal answer, nor is it the original purpose for my findings, but I’m positive that it’s the most humane response. If we can save all the current uninfected people from getting the virus, that’s a positive step in the right direction.

  From my current findings, I can safely assume that the body cannot fight off this virus at any stage, as it has evolved past our bodies’ capabilities. Specimens should not be able to progress to the third stage, after all the organs—including the heart—stop functioning, it has always been impossible for a human being to continue moving and living after this has happened, but somehow AM13 has defied all our current understandings of biology.

  However, it’s notable that there’s still minimal brain activity, even in stage three, which is obviously very significant. Some of the victims seem to retain the ability to speak and have memories—for a short time, at least. I need to concentrate on trying to understand the virus, and work out how to eliminate or prevent it, rather than bogging myself down in details and questions I may never be able to answer. There is simply no time for this. Illogical as AM13 may be, it’s right here in front of me and that’s what I need to grasp.

  With that in mind, I have been running some tests with the seven specimens, to determine what motivates them, if it isn’t the hunger for human flesh, as previously assumed.

  I have given all seven specimens access to different meats, even number five—although the look she gave me suggested that my efforts were pointless. This includes animal meat, flesh from a human that has been dead for a while, and a more recently deceased human. Only the specimens in stage three showed any real interest, but I’ve come to some conclusions regardless.

  The results I’ve drawn from these tests, and from my prior knowledge, is that their main desire and purpose is to spread the AM13 virus. The bug wants to move and grow. The victims want to contaminate others. As one bite appears to infect victims—they immediately start the process of running through the three main stages—specimens will, at least half the time, stop then, moving on to another target. This information does correlate with the brain scans I ran before. If ‘hunger’ was their main objective, they would continue ‘eating’ until there was no flesh left on their chosen target.

  It appears to me that they can smell the virus running through a person’s system, which is why they are only interested in the uninfected. They can also smell the difference between human and animal flesh, live and dead flesh. Although I did not notice any unusual perception in the olfactory or limbic system during the MRI, it is a common phenomenon that loss of one scent heightens others and in this case, it seems smell—and to some extent hearing—is all that has survived AM13.

  Of course, this completely negates all of the images we’ve seen of people being ‘eaten’ by the infected. My personal opinion is that this is down to a competitive ‘pack mentality’ often witnessed in the animal world. The instinctive reaction is to assert dominance and strength over others. I cannot test this idea further without live bait, but I feel confident in my personal assessment—at this stage, anyway.

  Although nothing I write down in this report can be 100% proven fact, I will stand by everything I note down. To the best of my ability and working with the knowledge I have, my findings are correct.

  CHAPTER 20

  ALYSSA

  I start humming to myself as I walk down the road. It’s still cold, but nowhere near as frosty as it was last time I was outside for a long period of time, which can only be a good thing. I’m brimming with positivity as I step along the muddy path. It feels so good to have a purpose again. It beats sitting around waiting for time to pass me by. I’ve never been still for so long before, it was driving me insane. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what made me stay for so long.

  I’m also a lot more confident in my chance of survival with my new fighting tool. Any security I felt with that golf club in my hands was false. It was just my coping mechanism. Realistically I wouldn’t have lasted very long if I’d gotten too close to any zombies. I was so unbelievably happy to stumble across this nice shiny new axe in the B and B’s shed, completely by accident. What a find! It’s sharp, easy to grip, and it pierces through zombies skulls with ease. There was also a rusty old chainsaw lying next to the axe. My eyes lit up when I spotted it, but unfortunately it was out o
f gas. I’m sure it would’ve been too loud anyway.

  Weirdly, I didn’t sleep too well last night. I just couldn’t seem to get comfortable, silly really, considering I might not spend a night in such a soft bed for a long time to come. There was simply too much anticipation running through my veins, too many possible future scenarios spinning through my mind. Thinking back on that now, I feel a tiny pit of tension appear in my stomach. I don’t want to think that I may have left behind the best place I could have wished for. I want to concentrate on what’s ahead. I don’t want to spoil my good mood with melancholy. I can always return to the B and B anyway, once I’ve collected some supplies, and hopefully gathered together some people. I won’t go back there by myself. I can’t deal with that loneliness again. You never know how much you’re going to miss people until they’re gone. I’ve always prided myself on self-reliance. I’ve always been fiercely independent, as we never settled for long. Sure, I had many friends, but I always kept the relationships superficial, I never let anyone in because I knew it wouldn’t be long before I would be forced to give them up. I assumed I would do well in this apocalypse alone.

  I set off this morning, the second the light burst through the clouds, full of energy and enthusiasm. The weariness is starting to hit me slightly now though. I feel like I’ve been walking for hours. If it wasn’t for the light and dark, I wouldn’t even know how many days have passed. I haven’t bothered to continually keep up with dates and times since being alone; it’s seemed pointless with nothing to look forward to. Christmas could have come and gone for all I know. I try to remember the date that the Lockdown started, but so much has happened since then that I can’t recall. I may have even missed my birthday. Actually, that’s not possible, my birthday is in August. I’m just being dramatic.

  I’ve been trying to plan a route as I walk, trying to remember where I haven’t yet been in my previous searches for the refugee camp. I didn’t look in the main town area; I figured there would be too many zombies for the government to set up there. Hopefully the undead bastards have all moved on now, because that’s where I’m heading first. I wish I knew the town better, then I might have some idea of a safe place a group could be holed up. I’m finding it impossible to remember the place because I only explored it once or twice. When you’ve seen as many towns and cities as I have, the memories can easily become jumbled and confused.

  I imagine it’s unrecognisable to anyone by now. It’ll probably resemble the seventh circle of hell. If it looks anything like it smells, it’s going to be terrible. I guess with the lack of street cleaning and rubbish removal, it’ll have started to look shitty pretty quickly. It’s amazing, we’ve been told for such a long time that humans are having a negative impact on the planet, but this just proves what a good effect we’ve had.

  I do stumble across a few stragglers as I go, but the odd zombie is nothing to me anymore. Not with my axe. I can just take them out without breaking a sweat. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, it’s still difficult to kill them, but fighting them off is much easier. I don’t know if I’ve become stronger or they’re getting weaker. Maybe without a regular food source, they’re struggling to carry on. I sometimes wonder what Lexi would think of me now, whether she’d be more inclined to listen to me knowing how well I can defend myself. I feel guilty at the mess I made of killing her zombie, but I was so inexperienced then. I probably unnecessarily prolonged her misery. Despite the fact that her turning was her own doing, I could have ended things more pleasantly for her.

  Eventually, after what feels like forever, I arrive at the peak of a hill which overlooks the town. I am stunned, frozen by the sight before me. Nerves tingle in my fingers as I drink everything in. It’s hard to imagine humans ever inhabited this place. It’s more of a deteriorating mess than I could have predicted. Has it really been that long since normal life prevailed? I try to think back over time, but every memory has become infected with the virus. I can no longer picture a time when zombies didn’t rule the world.

  Smashed windows lie in the road, litter fills the streets, and the remains of dead bodies are on almost every street corner, swarming with flies. Rats scurry in and out of drains, picking meat off the odd carcass as they pass. A smoggy stench fills the air; I can almost see the cartoon green lines wafting from the buildings. It’s a ghost town.

  There are still a few zombies loitering about, but the town definitely isn’t overrun as I expected to find it. Most of the infected that remain are very slow moving, or completely still. I look with astonishment at the ones that have slumped to the ground. They look like they’ve just given up. Maybe without the scent of flesh to motivate them, there’s no point in them moving. It’s such a weird and unnerving sight. I find myself wishing I’d thought to carry a camera with me at all times. The stories a photograph of this scene would tell would blow the minds of future generations. It’d show them what life in the zombie apocalypse was really like. If there is any future generation, of course. This could be life forever now, who knows.

  Suddenly, a rabble of movement grabs my attention. My eyes were so transfixed on the initial view that I didn’t take stock immediately. Six or seven zombies are growling and hammering against a church door. They are desperate, lustful, which can only mean one thing—people. My heart lifts and starts trouncing away happily. It looks like I’ve found my first port of call already. It’s not going to be easy to get there, of course, but I’ve lived a boring life for too long. Now I’m going to have to use my brain and fighting skills, just as I trained myself to do. I’m going to have to be so careful though. As soon as the zombies catch wind of me, I assume they’ll all wake up. When they realise I’m in reach, they may never stop.

  CHAPTER 21

  DR. JONES

  March 5th

  1:15 p.m.

  All of the seven specimens have now transgressed into the third stage of infection. They are now displaying all the symptoms I summarised in the first page of this report. Although the infection rates may have been varied and at different paces, the end result is always the same. Even the ones that begin the third stage of infection with an element of humanity end up as empty vessels. This is disappointing; I wish I could’ve learned more from them all.

  I’ve been testing the pain levels as the specimens transitioned from stage two to stage three, and they were off the charts. By my knowledge, humans shouldn’t be able to withstand that level of pain; it goes far beyond the expected threshold—even worse than that of childbirth. Maybe this goes some way to explaining why the parietal lobe is damaged?

  Specimen five has not moved at all since entering the third stage of infection. Maybe this process has been too much on her body and the brain activity has not been able to keep up. I cannot determine for certain if this specimen is dead at this point. If she has died, it will take my research in a whole new direction. I will need to find out why only some people can make it to the final stage. It’ll finally be a variation in my results—a tangent to work on.

  I intend to run detailed blood tests on all seven specimens today, see what I can find out from this. To do this safely I will need the assistance of two soldiers. I’m currently awaiting their arrival. Drawing blood is going to be a very difficult, dangerous task which I can’t do alone. Too many things could go wrong. At this moment, I’m uncertain if any sedatives will work on the infected as their systems don’t seem to react to things in the expected way—I may test this today if I’m given enough time.

  I have a theory about one of the questions that I have been given to look at. It’s more than a theory, I’m certain it’s correct but without proof I have to word it in this way.

  Why must the victims be shot in the head to die?

  Well, when people are normally shot in the chest, their heart stops beating. When they’re shot in another place on their body—say the stomach—more often than not they bleed out. None of this applies to the infected. Their hearts aren’t beating to begin with, their blood isn’t f
lowing. The only active function they have is in their lower brain. When this is severed, they cannot carry on.

  6:35 p.m.

  Notes from the blood tests:

  I am not able to determine blood types from the samples I’ve taken, so I have to assume I have a range of A, B, AB and O. None of the tests show any variety in results, which could be affected by type, so luckily this information isn’t vital.

  As previously determined, without the heart functioning, blood is not pumping around the body. The arteries, capillaries, and veins are useless. The blood is stationary, causing the plasma to coagulate and form clots. Need to find as much information about haematopoiesis as possible and run further tests into the serum.

  An uninfected human typically has approximately five litres of blood. The infected have a much smaller amount than this—approx. 2.75litres. This is possible due to the loss through the damage to their bodies or because they no longer appear to need it to function. I may return to this at a later date, for now I think I can continue successfully without this data.

  The virus has consumed all of the white blood cells—neutrophiles, eosinophiles, basophiles, and monocytes, explaining the lack of antibodies, and has latched itself onto the red blood cells at the reticulocyte stage. This allows it to travel around the body at a rapid pace—may go some way to help answer why people are affected at different rates. The ratio of RBCs to WBCs is much higher than normal—2,800 to 1.

  Also notable: haemoglobin is absent.

  9:45 p.m.