The stark realization that Sarah didn't know where she was, or how she got there, hit her and she started to panic. She clenched her stomach muscles and was greeted with a dull, aching pain. Grabbing hold of the tattered sheet that covered her, she pulled it away from her naked body. The cold air hit her dampened skin and she gasped.
She looked over her body in the light—it was damp with sweat and much paler than she remembered. Bruises covered her body; her knees, elbows and stomach were patchy with dark purple, nasty looking welts. What the hell happened to me?
She ran her fingers over her stomach, wincing in pain. The bruises there were raised lumps of swollen skin, which were extremely painful to the touch. On some of them, she noticed that the skin was broken, like over-sized acne spots.
On the inside of her arm was a small IV cannula that was stuck to her arm with sticky tape. There was a stand next to the bed with an empty plastic bag dangling from it that once contained saline, a pipe led down to the floor where it laid unconnected. She carefully unstuck the unused cannula from her arm and pulled it out, wincing at the mild stinging as the small pipe freed itself from her vein. She placed her hand over it trying to stem the trickle of blood that escaped. Am I in the hospital?
As she sat there in the bed inspecting her body, the door opposite her creaked open. Sarah gasped and pulled the covers right up to her neck as a child would do to escape the bogeyman in the closet. Panic shot through her as an elderly man holding a jug, shuffled through the door. He looked up at her with the same shocked expression as the one on Sarah’s face.
The man looked at least seventy, with long greying hair tied back behind his head. He wore a dark red night robe and a pair of dusty, brown slippers. After a few seconds, his startled expression changed into a relaxed smile that was so wide all of his large, obviously false teeth showed on display. This made Sarah more anxious and her hands began to tremble.
“My, my! What a surprise!” he said, his voice crackling and weak, “You're awake! You nearly frightened me to death, my dear!”
He chuckled soundlessly and walked towards her bed, jug in hand.
Sarah recoiled in fear, pushing herself so far back onto the bed that she sat on the pillow. She darted her eyes around the room, looking for somewhere to run, if she could run at all.
“Oh my! I'm sorry!” he said, backing away from her slowly. “I should probably explain; you must be more scared than I! My name is Albert England. I've been looking after you. You had an accident. Sort of...”
He walked towards her, more cautiously this time and leaned over the end table at the side of her bed. As she watched, he poured the contents of the jug into a glass with a shaky hand and gave it to her. “Drink this, you must be really thirsty.”
She grabbed the glass, realizing just how thirsty she actually was and gulped it down. Her lungs began to burn and she choked some of the water back up. After a small coughing fit, she drank some more, slowly this time, giving her body time to digest it.
“T—thank you,” she said, hoarsely. The quaver in her voice made her wonder how long it had been since she last spoke to anyone.
“You are very welcome. Now, I'd better explain myself,” the old man said, gently.
Sarah sat up straight and finished the last of the water, looking at him nervously. She searched his face, trying to pick up any memories she could but his face was not familiar to her.
“I am Albert, as I said. I've been taking care of you for the past six or seven months; it's hard to tell just how long it’s been these days. I'm not certain just how much you remember about what happened to you — to us all — but my son, Mark, found you lying in the street not far from here just before all this hell started,” Albert said, his voice breaking.
“Mark. I think I remember him,” Sarah said, clearing her throat. It was still hoarse and painful to swallow but the water had lubricated it a little. “Last thing I remember, we were going somewhere...” she paused, frowning in thought. “To the hospital! There were people attacking each other! Please, tell me that was just a dream!”
“I wish I could, dear, I really do,” Albert sighed, his eyes downcast, “but I can fill in the blanks in your memory. There is much to tell. Firstly, you are still in Winding but the world has changed since you last saw it and, unfortunately, not for the best.”
He sat gently on the side of her bed and looked her in the eyes.
“You see, that... day something awful happened. We still don't know why or what. But there was an outbreak, some kind of disease or virus spread like wild-fire throughout the town and God only knows how far it’s gone now. No one knew what caused it, at least no one in Winding. They were fine one minute and the next they changed,” he shuddered. “It started with a fever that progressed with amazing speed. I heard it on the news only minutes before it overtook the hospital. The first case here was a young boy who was rushed here in a very bad condition and no one knew what was wrong with him. He attacked our staff and killed a doctor. Soon after that our hospital was full of them, they were delirious….raving mad actually. They all had one thing in common; the marks.”
Sarah thought of the purple, partially healed lumps on her body and Albert nodded, as if reading her mind.
“Yes, the same as yours, dear. Horrid purple lumps on the skin, oozing with foulness. It wasn't long after that, most of the victims got violent. Frothing from the mouth and attacking everyone around them. They were too surprised to do anything...we all were,” he said, scrunching his face as though he was in some kind of emotional turmoil. “Then it happened in waves, anyone in contact with the sick became sick themselves — some in minutes, some in hours. They got up and started attacking people and were completely unresponsive, like they didn’t recognise us at all. It spread like wildfire. After a few hours, they filled the streets like rabid dogs, attacking everyone in sight.”
Sarah started to panic; her brain couldn't take in the information. Bile rose up in her throat and she tried to swallow it back down. “The whole country? What about the police or the Army?”
“That, I don’t know, dear. There’s no telling how far it’s gone. But it has been around six months and there’s been no rescue…” he let the sentence trail off.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her panic showing in her voice. “I last remember being at the bus stop and everything was fine. I got off the bus and….that’s all I can recall. But things were fine. Then I wake up in the street and it’s total chaos. Now I’m here!” Her breathing quickened and she started to feel light-headed.
Albert looked at her sympathetically, pursing his lips and he took her hand in his. She didn’t fight it.
“You passed out again in the street. Mark carried you to me. He was determined to save you!” he smiled and patted her hand gently. Her hands were cool to the touch. “I know how all of this may sound to you, dear, believe me I do. I wish it wasn't true and I wish you didn't have to wake up into this nightmare. Truth be told, I didn't think you would. It must be a lot to take in and I don't want to put too much pressure on you, not after what you've been through.”
Sarah relaxed a little, finding his warm hand comforting on hers. “Where is everyone? Oh God,” she said, her eyes so wide that the whites stood out brightly in the dim light, “where are my family?”
Albert sighed and looked up into her eyes, a solemn expression on his face. Frown lines appeared on his forehead, accentuated by the shadows. “I don’t know where your family are, dear, and I don’t want to lie to you,” he said. “All I do know is that things are bad out there. In a few days, most of the population of Winding were running around like maniacs in the streets. TV stations stopped broadcasting the same day and electricity went out the day after. Phones went out on the third day, but before that, no one was picking up. There wasn't even time for an emergency broadcast. The lucky ones of us ran for cover and hiding here is what we have been doing since.”
“So, what happened to me after I met Mark? I don't remembe
r anything at all.”
“That is another story altogether,” Albert said, pulling himself to his feet, “which I will tell you later. I know you must have many questions, but you must rest. You are a very lucky woman to be alive, more than you know. I don't want to exert you too much.”
Sarah opened her mouth to protest.
“I will explain more later on, I promise. You can go see Mark, he’ll be happy to hear you’re awake and doing fine. Please for now, just rest. When you wake, I will be in the other room cooking something to eat. I will answer everything I can then.”
Sarah nodded, defeated. Truth be told, she was exhausted. The old man smiled kindly at her, his fading blue eyes filled with warmth. He left the jug of water at her bedside and walked away, his slippers shuffling rhythmically.
She lay back in bed as Albert closed the door gently, trying to make sense of all she had heard from a man who was a stranger until ten minutes before. Something told her that he was telling the truth, even if she didn’t want it to be. As she thought about all he'd told her and imagined the world he’d described, she covered herself in the sheet and fell to sleep.
Chapter 2
It was warm in his arms, safe. She had never felt as protected or loved in her whole life as she had when she met him. His lips pressed gently against her forehead. She looked up into his deep brown eyes. She'd always loved those eyes. His face was clean-shaven and his hair was black — short at the sides and slightly messy on top. She had always thought he was the most handsome man on the planet.
He started to speak, his mouth moving slowly but not a single sound escaped his lips. Thinking that the sound of her own breathing was drowning out his words, she held her breath but it was as though his volume had been turned to zero.
“I can’t hear you,” she said. She watched his mouth open and close and tried desperately to read his lips.
Suddenly, his face changed — the once bare skin on his jaw sprouted dark hairs before her eyes. Small patches of dust and dirt covered his face and body, darkening his complexion. His forehead creased with lines as he frowned and his eyes grew wide in fear. He looked around the room, speaking more silent words. He stood up, his head turning frantically around the room.
“What's wrong?” she asked, standing in front of him.
His face was directly in front of hers now, inches apart, but he showed no recognition in his eyes, it was like he was looking straight through her.
Before Sarah could react, Jack’s mouth opened again but this time she heard every word.
“Where are you, Sarah?” he shouted. “I can't find you.”
~
“Jack!”
Sarah jumped up and realized it was a dream. She was back in Alfred's basement, sitting up in bed, and sweating profusely. It was cold and damp against her skin and the salt made the cuts and sores on her body sting. She could still hear Jack's voice echoing around her head. Where is he? Is he alive?
An overwhelming sense of urgency washed over her and she climbed out of bed, ignoring the pain that shot through her aching body. She bent down slowly and rummaged in the end table at the side of her bed, looking for something to wear. The cold hit her naked body hard but she ignored it and the goose bumps that had appeared on her arms and legs. She opened the drawer and found some neatly folded stonewashed jeans, a white vest and some socks. She couldn’t remember what she had been wearing in town that day and neither did she care, with more effort than usual, she pulled on the clothes.
Under the bed, she found a size-five pair of tan hiking boots and slipped them on. All of the clothes smelled fresh and had a slight floral fragrance, Albert had clearly washed them.
As she tied her shoelaces slowly and painfully, Albert entered the room with another jug of water but before he could speak, Sarah asked, “Where is Jack?”
Albert sighed heavily. “You were alone when we found you, dear. You spoke that name many times in your sleep,” he said. “Who is he?”
“My boyfriend,” Sarah said, her disappointment showing in her face. “I can’t remember whether he was with me in town before I blacked out. I can’t remember a lot of stuff, actually.”
“I'm sure he's fine, dear, don't worry about that now,” Albert smiled as reassuringly as he could. “Are you ready for your first breakfast in months? We have cereal — it's a little stale, I won’t lie. The milk is powdered but it's all we have. Unfortunately, there are no cows running around the streets,” he chuckled.
“There’s also some packet noodles, they’re not take-away quality but it’s food,” he added.
In the shock, Sarah had forgotten about food but the mention of it sent her stomach rumbling. An image of a greasy double-cheeseburger flashed in her mind, causing her mouth to water.
“That would be lovely, thank you. I forgot how hungry I am,” she said politely.
“I'm not surprised. You were on a drip for months before you came round enough for us to start feeding you. Thank goodness the hospital isn't far away or I don't know how we would have kept you alive! Come this way,” Albert said, stretching his hand towards the door.
There were three small rooms in Albert's basement; the one she had been sleeping in was the largest. Sarah followed Albert out of the room and into a very small hallway. The floor was concrete and the walls were in the same condition as the one she slept in — cracked and very damp. Her boots crumpled over small stones and rubble as she walked.
She stopped to look at a set of stairs ascending to the right, which Sarah assumed led up into the main house. The doors were blocked with wood and a small but heavy-looking cabinet leaned against it. Looks like they don’t go out much.
Albert, with his uncanny mind-reading abilities, said, “We try not to leave here often, only to get food. Finding you was the last time we went out searching for survivors, that was back when there were more of us. It seemed foolish to do it again after that.”
Another door was open to the left — a dark, dusty room with two small beds inside. They walked past it and Albert opened the last door at the end of the hall. A warm, flickering light flowed from the gap under it. They have electricity?
Albert opened the door, causing light to flood the dimly lit hallway. Sarah winced, this room was much brighter than the one she had been in.
“Our guest is awake!” the old man proclaimed cheerfully.
A man sat at a table in the middle of the room, watching them. One of his tanned arms rested next to a glass of water on the table-top. His hair, long and straight enough to skim his shoulders, was the most unusual colour Sarah had ever seen — a rich copper that looked more red than ginger. Sarah admired its beauty as he flicked his head to remove it from his eyes.
Seeing his guest, the man pushed the chair he sat on backwards and stood up, offering her his hand.
“Ah! It’s nice to see you up and around! I really didn't think you would be up to it today but I’m glad that you are— do you remember me?” Mark asked cheerfully.
Sarah offered her hand in return, noticing how small hers was in comparison to his. He was well built —his arms and shoulders so muscular that they clung to his shirt as he moved.
“Yes, I remember you. You saved my life. Twice, I’m told.” Sarah said, glancing at Albert with a smile.
Mark shook her hand gently and motioned towards a chair for her to sit down. They sat down together.
“That’s okay. I was in the area anyway,” he laughed. “How are you feeling? Or is that a stupid question?”
Sarah laughed in spite of the pain it caused in her chest. “I'm...okay. Felt better but I'll live.”
Mark eyed her curiously and Sarah blushed under his gaze, her cheeks felt hot and she fidgeted with her hands under the table. His eyes were the lightest blue she had ever seen, almost grey in colour.
Becoming very aware of her own body, she noticed how the clothes that had once fit perfectly, now hung loose. I must have been really ill. Shyness came over her under his scrutiny and she shrunk in
to her shoulders as she irrationally worried about her appearance.
Mark noticed her smile disappear and let go of her hand suddenly.
“I didn't hurt you, did I?” he asked, his voice sincere. “I’m sorry if I did. I know how weak you must be after what you’ve been through.”
Albert had moved over to the long counter at the end of the room, which was covered in pans and pots, and had put a small black kettle on a portable stove that sat in the corner. A saucepan resting on the stove began to boil.
“My son doesn't have my lean physique, as you can see,” he said, motioning over his body with his hands. “Unfortunately for him he takes after his mother, in that respect.”
Sarah and Mark both laughed at his remark and Mark shook his head, rolling his eyes at Sarah in fake exasperation.
“No, you didn't hurt me. I was just thinking of how much weight I’ve lost, I feel so weak. Though from the sounds of it I haven’t eaten in a while,” Sarah said. Becoming aware of the intense growling in her stomach, she added, “Something smells wonderful!”
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