by Samie Sands
The real issue is, as the days pass and the more he puts the idea into everyone’s minds, the more zombies seem to be surrounding us. I don’t know if they’re finally wising up to our scent, or if our trips outside have led them back to where we are. I don’t know where their intelligence levels are at. I have my own preconceived notions, but I can’t rely solely on them.
During one of Pete’s rants, I suggested that he up and go it alone and leave us be, but Sarah got really angry at me for that. She’s far too kind-hearted to see him as he really is. She’s the sort of person that likes to see the best in everyone. That’s not a bad quality necessarily, but I do think it could put her in avoidable danger. The worst thing is Pete has a charm and charisma that I can see slowly winning everybody over, one by one. My mood is becoming more thunderous by the second. If they all decide to follow him, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Emily has been colder towards me since we returned. If I try to discuss my annoyance with her, she ends up snapping at me. “Well, it’s your fault he’s here in the first place.” I don’t know what has got her so rattled and she won’t tell me. I’ve tried to talk to her, I’ve tried giving her space, and nothing seems to work. I’m finding this negative quality in her hard work on top of everything else. If I’ve done something to upset her, I’d rather she just tell me. I can’t stand having to second guess myself all the time. I’ve got far too much else to worry about. To be honest, this struggle is all new to me. Emily is the first person whose opinion has mattered to me. No one else has been in my life long enough to have any impact.
If I try to discuss my issue with anyone else, the frustration just bubbles out of me and I end up coming across as irrational and hot-headed. I just can’t seem to keep my cool. I can feel everyone slowly drifting away from me. It’s as heart-wrenching as it is enraging. I thought I was starting to earn respect here, I thought my outlook mattered. Why is everyone so quick to listen to the newcomer? He hasn’t been forced to earn his respect in the way I feel like I have.
* * *
Predictably, something soon happens to sway everyone’s decision permanently. A zombie finally manages to crack the glass of one of the stained glass windows and the constant clawing is making the hole bigger. All the others become far too terrified too quickly and begin acting irrationally. I’m sure if we just secure the place better, we would be able to stay, but no one even pauses for a second for me to say any of this.
Of course, I can see their logic. This place was never going to last forever and while the zombie army grows outside, soon we won’t be able to leave at all and we’ll end up starving to death, but right now I’m far too fractious to allow myself to see any common sense.
Frustrated tears prick my eyes as I squeeze my fists in temper. I’m watching everyone gather up their belongings rapidly around me and I want to refuse to leave. I want to stand my ground and insist everyone listen to me but I know it’s far too late for that. I’m not ready to say goodbye to this place yet. As unsatisfied as I’ve found myself feeling, it’s the best ‘home’ I’ve had since the zombie apocalypse started.
I stalk off over to my things and hold my sleeping bag between my fingers. I sense another person approaching behind me. “Pete, if that’s you trying to put your arms around me, I swear I’ll—” I trail off as I turn to see a distinctly female face in front of me. Emily. At the sight of her, the tears start rolling. I can’t even begin to stop them. Her presence has cooled my hot temper, but a barren numbness has replaced it. I hate this sort of emotion, the profound sense of hopelessness, I prefer the anger. Rage I can deal with, I can turn it into something positive. Sadness makes me weak and vulnerable.
Her arms snake around my neck and I rest my weary head on her shoulders. The sound of the zombies snarling lustfully outside is getting much louder. There’s nothing I can do, this place is over. I try to accept this in my heart, but the fear that we’re going to lose people is too much to bear. In here, we’re protected. I’m not sure of my group’s chances out there on the harsh road. They just haven’t experienced it yet, and I don’t want their first time out there to be fatal.
As Emily pulls away, patting me on the back, I try to adapt the old faithful tactic of imagining that none of this is real and I’m on a film set, but I can’t find the enthusiasm for it. This is reality; the people that die are lost forever. The zombies outside are actually a real thing and anyone who becomes one can’t take off their makeup at the end of the day and return to normal life. Using my imagination as a coping mechanism has been a childish method of getting by. I can’t block out my worries in that manner anymore. Something inside of me has irrevocably changed.
I can’t let anyone else die. However much I’ve tried to convince myself that losing my family hasn’t bothered me because it was their own fault, I’ll never get over that loss. I’ll never forgive myself. I can’t let the same happen to my new family. I’ve let people in, I’ve allowed myself to care, and now I’m paying the price for that mistake. I always said sentiment in the zombie apocalypse gets you killed, but loving these people crept up on me. I didn’t notice it happening until it was far too late.
I stuff everything into my backpack, trying not to over-analyse my actions. I’ve got to fuel myself forward, however I’m feeling. I need to try to prevent my emotions from being the death of me, I know that, I’ve told myself that so many times, so why do the words feel so hollow now?
I can hear the children talking excitedly between themselves. They have no true idea of the danger we’re about to embark on. This is all a big adventure to them, they’re probably glad to be getting out of here. Being stuck indoors is no good for boys of their age. Everyone else is talking, but I feel detached, more like I’m having an out of body experience and I’m just watching the scene from somewhere else. I’m just a useless void and I need to snap out of it if I’m going to be any use outside of these four walls.
I attempt to focus my attention; I look intently at every single member of the group, trying to gauge their opinions. All their faces show varying stages of distress and fear, except Pete, who looks oddly relieved. He shoots a smile my way and I can’t help my reflex reaction by grinning back. For some reason, the look he gives me makes me feel like we’re the only people in this room. The way he’s gazing at me makes me feel important, like I really matter. I can’t fully explain it, even to myself. I feel like he can see into my soul and instead of making me uneasy, the way I’d like it to, I feel a bit flattered by the attention. I hate that. I want to despise him so badly. However irrational my feelings are, I blame him for all the bad things that are currently happening. When I focus on all the problems he’s created for me, it’s easy to. But when he’s looking at me like that, it all melts away.
I drink in his entire appearance again, just like the first time I saw him. Back then I only noticed his looks; I didn’t have a clue about his personality. Now that I know him a bit better, his kind, sweet side shines through, making him that much more attractive. I realise then that he’s exactly ‘my type’—the sort of guy I used to date. I never had a serious boyfriend, of course, we moved about too much, we were never in one place for longer than six months, but I did go on a lot of dates. If I’d met him under any other circumstances, I’m sure I would’ve been flirting like mad by now.
I shake my head, wishing these thoughts away. I’ve just allowed them to enter my brain because I’m feeling upset and maudlin. I can’t think with anything other than my brain during the zombie apocalypse, I don’t want to end up dead because of my feelings for someone else. I’m already too attached to everyone in this group; I can’t add romance or love into the mix. That’ll finish me off for sure.
My ears suddenly zone in on the conversation Randy is having with Sarah. He’s discussing the imminent need for camping material. Panic consumes all of my previous emotions. I can’t camp, I refuse. When watching any horror film, I always said that the biggest mistake that the characters made is setting foot insid
e a tent, leaving just a scrap of material between themselves and the monsters outside.
I refuse. I flatly refuse to allow that to be me.
“No, we should find a—” I’m shushed immediately by Randy. He looks at me impatiently like he doesn’t have time for my nonsense right now. I’m taken aback by his rudeness; he’s never treated me like that before, like an impertinent child. I know we’re all stressed but there was absolutely no need for that.
I’m ambushed by hurt and confusion. I almost consider sitting down and refusing to move until he apologises for treating me that way—however bratty and unreasonable that may be—but then Emily slips her hand into mine and a calming sensation rushes over me and I find myself starting to empathise with Randy. This is a tense situation, which we all need to work through together. I shouldn’t take his snappiness so personally.
“Okay, everyone. Me, Pete, and Alyssa will go first, making a route for Emily and Sarah, who will bring Ben and Leon. Understand?” He says this in an authoritative voice, which none of us can disagree with. He’s taking charge, shouldering the responsibility of the decision. Now we just need to make it work.
I watch silently as the doors swing open.
CHAPTER 34
DR. JONES
March 22nd
10:20 a.m.
I can’t believe what’s happened. I’m in utter shock, but no matter how many times I retest and look over the results, it always spells out the same answer. I’ve had such a major breakthrough; it hasn’t even begun to sink in yet. I don’t even know what to do with myself while I process this information.
The thing is, it happened completely by accident. The first time I got the positive result, I wasn’t even sure what I’d done. The vial of blood that I’d taken from Jason was changing before my very eyes and all I could do was watch and wait. Then I had to rush through all my scruffy notes that I’d written, ready to write up later if anything of significance occurred.
I’ve found a cure for cancer!
Well, at least I think I have. It certainly looks that way. Can you believe it? I certainly can’t! All the years of research that have gone into it and somehow I’ve fixed it without even intending to.
I was running some tests using some of the chemicals that I hadn’t used yet in previous experiments. I wasn’t expecting anything; nothing has happened so far—in fact, I was starting to believe that nothing was ever going to happen. As always, I had a vial of blood from myself—uninfected—and from specimens in varying stages, in this case one, seven, and Jason. This time, I had the idea of creating a vial of ‘recently infected’ blood by combining mine and Jason’s. I had no idea if this was going to be effective, but it’s the closest I can get. By the time the specimens are brought to me, they’re already—at minimum—a few hours in. I wanted to see if anything could be done within seconds of infection.
The blood sample I created was effective, it had exactly the same qualities as all of the other infected samples, but unfortunately it didn’t provide any different results to what I’ve previously seen. All I can conclude is that as soon as AM13 enters your blood stream, it’s too late to stop it from transferring all the way into stage three. A point that I’ve already noted, as depressing a note as it is, nothing I do seems to alter that result.
So almost immediately, the combination of Fluticasone, Infliximab, Erythopoietin and Cisplatin—a combination, as far as I’m currently aware, never seen together—the cancerous cells started disappearing at a rapid rate. Aside from the AM13 virus, Jason’s blood was completely clear.
Of course, now I need to figure out how much of that was down to the infection of the AM13 virus. I’m afraid that it could be a lot. I don’t want to present the cure just to find out that sufferers need to be infected with another deadly virus first. One that has no aid or solution. For the moment, anyway.
I know this is a detour in my research. It isn’t my instructed duty, but it’s still something of a miracle. I can’t wait to show my findings to the board, at least then all of the criticism will be forced to stop. They can’t exactly continue saying I’m doing nothing when I’ve discovered this cure. The cure for one of the most awful diseases to face humanity before AM13.
I’m sure now that if I can do this, I can tackle the job that I’m supposed to be working on. I’ll find a way somehow. I can do it. I can.
3:15 p.m.
I’ve been called to a meeting with the board in 15 minutes so I’m gathering up all of my notes. I’m actually really excited about this. I’m still trying to figure out how much AM13 impacts on the cure. Without cancerous but uninfected blood, it’s challenging. I’m sure this meeting will lead to more assistance on this task. It’s so important, I’m sure resources will be found somehow.
I still haven’t recovered from the enormity of this. When I think of all the time, effort, and funding that has previously gone into this research, and I’ve found something of an answer…and quite a simple one at that. Whatever the outcome, it’s a start!
5:05 p.m.
I’m speechless. I don’t even know how to write all of this down. Where do I begin?
They don’t want to know. Not at all. In fact, rather than dispelling the criticism, it became a hundred times worse. Why can’t they see what a good thing this is? Even if the research is incomplete, it’s a massive step in the right direction.
No, criticism isn’t even the word. This time, the threats weren’t implied, they were real. Accompanied by violence. A soldier was ordered to hold a knife against my throat. My breathing was restricted, I started to get dizzy. Words were yelled at me, but I couldn’t hear them, my ears had gone fuzzy with fear. Although I’ve known for a while that the board members are bad people, this is the first time I’ve had that fact thrust in my face.
My family. I want to know where they are. I suspect now more than ever that the board isn’t treating them well. What if they’re being held somewhere? Being mistreated? Why didn’t I just stick to my original plan and stay with Ashley and Melody throughout all of this? Why did I allow myself to get duped in such a terrible fashion? Questions and emotions are flying though me, making it very difficult to concentrate on anything. I could scream with frustration. I need to get out of here. I need to leave this place. Now. I can’t last much longer. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.
Fucking hell, what am I doing?
3:00 a.m.
I’ve calmed down a bit. Now I’m just really upset. I’ve talked everything through with Jason and he’s got me back on the right path. Escape just isn’t a viable option. They’ll kill me for sure. These people aren’t reasonable. I just need to get some form of solution, anything will do. An answer, whatever it may be. Even if the result is incomplete, not fully tested. I need to give them something.
Jason is already looking better after ingesting my solution—it was his idea to take it, I didn’t want to force that choice upon him. I couldn’t ask him to be my guinea pig, much as it would help my work. I’ve told him to continue on his cancer medication as it still seems to be slowing down AM13. I don’t want to risk losing him over finding the answer to the wrong question. Not when he means as much to me as he does.
Now that my mind is thinking more rationally, I can’t stop thinking about the amount of food they had in that boardroom. Their dinner was served to them whilst I was still in there. If I thought I was being served a lot to eat, I was very mistaken. I’ve never seen such a banquet! I’m sure they don’t need that much, do they? It can’t have all been eaten. What a waste. You’d think in this situation, rationing supplies would be essential? It was almost disgusting.
I have to assume that they have plans in place. That they don’t expect us to be here for too much longer, for them not to be considering too far into the future. I want to know what’s happening, but I’m sure I don’t have any rights to ask. Especially when I’m viewed in such a negative way. This lack of knowledge is harder to swallow than anything else.
I wish I
could continue with my research on the medication I created today, but I know that’ll just get me in more trouble. Instead I’m going to leave a sample of my discovery in the back of this notebook complete with detailed instructions—just in case something happens to me. I can’t be certain of anything anymore. If I survive, I fully intend to pursue this further, and if I don’t, I really hope that someone else does. This could be one of the biggest discoveries of this century if only it’s allowed to progress.
If someone finds this work and wants to credit me for my contribution, my name is Dr. Edmond Jones, born 15/12/1985. I graduated from Oxford University in 2007. A quick search online should pull up any more details—I know the university library contains a lot of my previous research data. I would like to be remembered for contributing something to the world, especially after all the struggles I’ve endured to achieve this.
Especially since I may not get the opportunity to do anything else.
CHAPTER 35
ALYSSA
“There’s no way out.” The words slip out of my mouth without me even realising I was thinking them. There are more zombies outside than I even considered possible. I hear an audible gasp behind me, someone else is sharing my shocked reaction. I glance over to Randy and Pete, my comrades, and see determination gripping both of their faces. I try to adopt the same stance; this is exactly the sort of excitement I’ve been crying out for. Another chance to prove myself. I need to shake off all of the negativity that could potentially affect my performance. These people are relying on me. However furiously my heart is pounding, however much fear sits in the pit of my stomach, I need to come through. Emily, Sarah, and the children need me to do this.
