Never Look Back: A Dystopian Novel

by Mortimer, L. C.

  Never Look Back

  L. C. Mortimer

  Copyright 2020 by L.C. Mortimer

  Originally published as The Dead of Night by L.C. Mortimer

  Cover art by James @ goonwrite.com

  Paige Bowers didn't expect to wake up and find the world burning, but fate has plans that are far beyond her own control. When she's thrust into a world of chaos, disorder, and death, she has only one choice: run.

  Escaping the confines of her college town might seem easy, but it's harder than it looks, and death lurks at every corner. With nothing but her backpack and a desperate need to survive, Paige embarks on a journey she never wanted to take.

  She doesn't know how she’ll get there.

  She doesn't know what she's going to face.

  She only knows one thing.

  She can never look back.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Author

  Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 1

  Doctor Bales was not a man easily ignored. In fact, the opposite was true. When Dr. Bales entered a room, people paid attention. He wasn’t a big man: not by any means. He barely grazed 5’2” and was nearly as wide as he was short. A full, greying beard covered most of his serious expression, but his eyes lit up as he talked about literature, filling the room with a powerful glow. Dr. Bales knew what he was talking about, and when he spoke, you listened.

  “Current events,” he said one morning, “are quite frequently a basis for literature. Problems of society often bring out some of the best, most descriptive writing ever produced. While the problems may not affect us today, and they may not even affect every group of individuals at the time the piece is written, the trueness of the issue makes the pain of the writer evident. Sometimes,” he stroked his beard thoughtfully as he paused in front of the class, “pain brings with it a certain passion that cannot be replicated.”

  The class was quiet, each student silently listening. Occasionally a pen scribbled a note or someone looked up from their notebook as Dr. Bales explained the importance of society and its impact on stories.

  “Can anyone give an example of a story we’ve read this semester that could have been inspired by current events in the time period during which it was written?”

  Utopia, I thought, willing myself to raise my hand, but I couldn’t quite do it. Even after two months in Dr. Bales’ class, I was still afraid of getting a question wrong. I inwardly groaned, disappointed in myself for failing to answer such a simple question. I’d done all the reading for the semester, after all. There was no reason I couldn’t have answered his query.

  Dr. Bales glanced my direction, but I didn’t say anything. Looking away, he continued to pace in front of the class.

  “Anyone?” He asked again. “What story directly reflects a serious social problem or societal issue that was happening during the time period in which the book was written?”

  A student in the back raised her hand.

  “Yes, Margaret?” Dr. Bales looked a bit surprised that Margaret, of all students, would choose to try to answer a question.

  “Dr. Bales,” Margaret began in her sweet, sing-song voice. Her tiny figure and perfectly styled hair matched her high-pitched voice perfectly. “I’d like to be excused, please.”

  “And why is that, Margaret?” Dr. Bales’ frustration was evident as he stared at the perfectly put-together young woman. From the top of her curls to her hundred-dollar heels, she was the epitome of every guy’s fantasy. Every guy, that is, except for Dr. Bales. He mostly looked like he wanted her to answer a real question for once.

  “The vaccines are in,” she waved her phone as she stood, grabbing her stylish purse as she stood. “I want to go get my shot before the pharmacy on campus runs out.”

  Without waiting for a response, she stood and left the classroom. Her too-high heels clicked loudly down the hallway as she made her way out of the building. The rest of the class looked at one another for a brief second before most of them followed Margaret. The room sounded like a stampede of cattle as books, bags, and snacks were gathered and carried out of the tiny classroom. Soon only Dr. Bales and I remained.

  With a sign, he looked at me. “You might as well go, too, Miss Bowers. You probably want to go get your vaccine, too.”

  Instead of hurrying to leave, I took advantage of this rare moment alone with a man I considered to be one of the smartest people I’d ever met.

  “Dr. Bales,” I said, leaning forward intently. “Just between us: is this vaccine really going to do anything? Is it really going to stop the spread of infection or just make people feel better, more secure? I mean, you’re always talking about widespread panic and free thinking and freedom of the press and how the problems of society dictate literature and –“

  Dr. Bales held up a hand and I stopped, suddenly out of breath and frustrated by what was going on. After all, there had been a huge uproar over Facebook and Twitter the last few days about the new flu vaccine and its supposed importance. He studied my expression for a moment before he sat down, tiredly, at his desk. He leaned forward, placing his hands together on the desk.

  “Paige, we’ve had vaccines for years, but this year seems quite different, no? This year the government has been pushier than usual about making sure everyone gets vaccinated. The death toll has already spiked and is rapidly rising. These numbers are unheard of, Paige. Completely unheard of. Why anyone was even in class today is beyond me. Everyone is sick. Look at our classroom today, Paige. Nearly half the desks were empty. People are going down hard with this virus, and those who aren’t sick don’t want to be. People are staying home. They’re hiding. They’re stocking up on food and they’re getting vaccinated as soon as they can.”

  “Do you think the vaccine works?” I asked him, wondering what his answer would be. I had listened to my mother’s skepticism about vaccinations before. Many of her friends were concerned that kids today got too many shots at too young of ages, but not being a mother, I’d never paid much attention to them. I’d never gotten a flu shot, either, but then again, the flu had never seemed as deadly as it did this year. For days people had been posting pictures online of their vomit and puke, bragging when they’d gotten their vaccination, and giving updates for when other local friends could expect to receive a similar shot.

  Dr. Bales took a moment, choosing his words carefully. Then he told me, “I think that if you believe a vaccination is effective, you must also believe that the numbers of infection will go down once a certain amount of the population has received their vaccinations. The flu vaccine has been available for nearly three weeks now with huge portions of the population getting vaccinated, yet the virus is still spreading. It has only been over the last few days that anyone has seemed truly concerned above the ordinary amounts, yet news reports are talking about hospitals being filled and doctor’s offices having to turn away patients simply because there is not enough health staff to take care of the patients. If I were you, Paige, I would take the steps necessary to make sure I didn’t become ill.”

  I nodded in understanding and silent agreement. My half-empty book bag sat next to my desk, and I began to gather my things. I halfheartedly tossed my textbook, notebook, and assortment of pens into my bag before I zipped it and stood.

  “Thanks, Dr. Bales.”

  “Always a pleasure, my dear.”

  I turned to leave, but Dr. Bales stopped me.

  “Paige,” he lowered his voice. “It wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few bottles
of water. As the virus grows and spreads, people will begin to panic. It’s just in our nature. Already many cities are reporting food shortages and lengthy lines at the grocery store. Make sure you’re ready if the cafeteria shuts down or you can’t go out to eat. You don’t need to tell anyone, just pick up some basic supplies to last you a few days in case you need them.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying,” Dr. Bales said, grabbing his briefcase and opening the door for me. “That there will be widespread panic. People can’t live a few hours without electricity, can you imagine how they’ll react if the entire world becomes ill? If everyone is sick, Paige, nobody goes to work. There’s nobody to fix the electricity, the Internet, or the traffic lights. Problems that are usually only inconvenient for a few hours will quickly become days or even weeks of inconvenience. Get ready for the possibility that as people grow sick, they’ll become scared. And scared people, Paige, are dangerous people.”

  Dr. Bales nodded at me once more and trotted off toward his office. Was he right? Were people so scared over the flu that they’d become violent and unruly? It seemed impossible. The world wasn’t that chaotic. Overall, I’d say that people were generally good. I thought about what I’d heard on the news that morning: that nearly a quarter of the police force was home sick and petty crimes had already gone up. I knew some kids in my Algebra class had shoplifted a few bottles of liquor and some candy bars, but that was kid stuff. People wouldn’t get too crazy, would they? It didn’t seem real. I wondered if Dr. Bales was actually right. He was a smart guy, but he seemed a bit panicky, especially over something like the flu.

  As I walked out of Dr. Bales’ classroom, I yanked my cell phone from my pocket and dialed my mom’s number.

  “Hi, Sweetie,” she answered with her usual cheery voice.

  “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that the vaccines just got in for the students, so I was going to head over and-“

  “Paige, don’t you dare take that vaccine.”

  “What?”

  “Paige, you know how I feel about the flu shot. Just get some orange juice, Hon, and keep drinking plenty of fluids. You’ll be fine. Don’t get the shot.”

  “But Mom,” I told her, knowing it was useless to argue, “The news said-“

  “You know how the mainstream media is, Paige,” my mother was persistent, if nothing else. “They don’t tell you about all the garbage that goes into those vaccines. Did you know,” she continued, “that there is aluminum in some vaccinations?”

  I did not know that.

  “Yes, Mom,” I lied, “I know.”

  Unconvinced, she continued to explain how the flu vaccine had been manufactured and what its effect was on the actual virus. Finally, I gave in.

  “Okay, Mom, I won’t get it.”

  “You’d better not,” she told me, unhappy I’d even been considering it.

  “I won’t. I promise. Listen, though, I’ve got to go. I have Algebra in five minutes and I’m going to have to run to get there in time.”

  “I love you, Paige,” my mother told me. Warmth filled my heart, if only for a moment. I loved that she never said goodbye without reminding me how much she cared.

  “I love you, too, and tell Dad I said ‘hi.’”

  “I will, Sweetie. Bye, bye, now.”

  I clicked off the phone and kept walking. I noticed, for possibly the first time, just how empty the courtyards looked. That’s what I got for spending all of my time working and studying. I didn’t even notice how many college students were sick. Had a lot of classes been canceled? They had to have been. Not that many students could be sick. The campus looked almost like it was spring break, and it was definitely not spring break.

  Nevertheless, I decided to skip my next class and head to the grocery store on Dr. Bales’ orders. It couldn’t hurt to be prepared, and I was far enough ahead in my Algebra course that an absence wouldn’t really hurt my grade.

  There was a shop just off campus where I bought the occasional half-gallon of milk or sandwich supplies. Most of my meals came from the cafeteria, which accounted for the extra 10 pounds of awesomeness I was carrying around my belly, but I knew how to shop if I needed to. I couldn’t do a lot of cooking in my half of the dorm room, but I could live off of granola bars for a while if I needed to.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I nearly bumped into a woman in a police uniform when I rounded the corner to the store.

  “Excuse yourself,” she said. “The line starts back there.”

  “What?”

  “The line, dumbass.”

  I glanced at where she was pointing, at the opposite side of the store. A stream of people stood still in a line that stretched from the door of the store, across the street, and down to the next block.I guess now I knew where all the students went.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Limited supplies, ma’am. We’re only letting in a few people at a time to maintain control of the situation.”

  “What situation?”

  “Do you live in a cave or something?” The cop looked at me like the uniformed loser I was.

  “No, I live in the dorms.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She looked at me sympathetically. “Rough. Well listen up, kid. Half of the town is without power and we’re expecting the rest to lose it real quick, so if you’re hungry or plan to be in the next few days, I’d suggest that you go get some. And while you’re at it, better hit the ATM before it crashes, too, if you can find one that has any cash left in it.”

  She turned to order another person to get back in line and I slipped away. Half the town without power? And now everyone was at the store? I started to walk in the opposite direction of the grocery shop, further from campus. Surely there was a dollar store or a general store this way that wouldn’t be totally packed. The line stretching across the Wal-Mart adjunct to the pharmacy parking lot let me know that my idea was ridiculous. Everyone was out buying food, flashlights, whatever it is people want when they’re scared.

  I remembered seeing a health food store down this way once, a little mom-and-pop style shop with only a couple of employees and sky-high prices, but I wondered if anyone else had thought to go there.

  I headed in that direction and glanced around at the businesses that had already closed early for the day. All of the downtown shops had “CLOSED” signs in the windows. Restaurants I loved to frequent on my days off and late-night cafes that brewed the best cup of coffee for study dates: all closed. Nobody was mulling around talking like they usually did. Instead, the few people I saw seemed to rush in any direction. Heads were low, and most people had masks or scarves on.

  What a change from this morning. I knew I secluded myself from the outside world. It wasn’t something I was particularly proud of or something I even did on purpose. It just seemed that by the time I was finished studying, tweaking my essays, or even scrubbing my bathroom to the pristine perfection my ex-military dad would be proud of, the world had already gone to sleep.Or was at work. Or, much to my chagrin, was out drinking.

  I wrapped my scarf tighter around my face. It was only October but the weather was already chilly. We’d had sleet and rain for days. Our Kansas winter wanted to come early this year. People had bets going on whether we’d see snow before November, but I doubted it. Mid-November was my guess. Just sour weather until then, I figured. I didn’t like it much, but it was part of living in the Midwest. Your summers were warm and breezy and fantastic, and your autumns were sloshy and drizzly.

  I heard a honk and glanced across the street where a gas station was jam-packed full of cars.

  “Hey!” Someone yelled out their window at an attendant who was hanging a sign that read NO GAS. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour!”

  “Sorry, man.” The attendant shrugged and headed back to the safety of the gas station, where he locked the door behind him and hung a CLOSED sign in the window. The cars slowly started backing out of the gas station, but
there were so many in the line that I knew it would take a while. Dr. Bales hadn’t been joking around when he said people panicked at the slightest threat or bit of change.

  I shoved my chilled hands into my pockets and walked a little faster, my backpack still firmly in place. My English text was growing heavy and my back was sore, but I knew I was almost to the shop. I’d slide my backpack off while I browsed the goods and give my aching shoulders a bit of relief.

  The store I was looking for, “Healthie Lives,” was squeezed between a used bookstore and an adult bookstore and sold anything from organic water to organic vegetables to organic tampons. I’d been here a few times to buy non-sugary candies for my little sisters. They were expensive, but delicious and not entirely bad for you.

  The store looked deserted, but I tried the door anyway. It opened easily and swung with a loud creak. I walked inside the darkened store. Bits of dust floated through the sunlight that streamed through the open doorway.

  “Hello?” I called out, half-expecting an answer, but half hoping I wouldn’t hear anything.

  “Give it a minute,” a deep voice hollered back.

  I took a few steps forward but left the door open behind me so I could see. Shelves lined the tiny space and were packed to the brim with any type of organic food or medicine you could want or imagine.

  “What can I do you for?” An older gentleman asked as he entered from the back storeroom. I recognized him as Mr. Healthie, the owner of the store. He had spent nearly fifteen minutes explaining the pun of his shop title to me once. The man was weathered, but he was content. It was obvious, just from talking with Mr. Healthie for a few moments, how proud he was of his store.

  Healthie’s blue apron was dusty and weathered. It had seen better days, but then again, so had he. His wrinkled hands were calloused and tan. I wondered if he’d been a field worker at some point. Maybe he’d been raised on one of the nearby farms, spending his youth chasing cattle and fancy young girls.