Never Look Back: A Dystopian Novel

by Mortimer, L. C.

  Remembering that the other girls outside had reported it when their roommate died, I fumbled for my cell phone and punched in 9-1-1. Nothing happened. No cell service. I stared at my phone.

  “Work!” I urged it. I tried again and again. Finally, on the fourth try, I managed to get a call out. The phone rang twice before an automated message sounded.

  “Hello. You have reached the 9-1-1 emergency system. All of our operators are currently busy assisting other callers. If you or someone you know is currently experience flu-like symptoms, remain calm and stay indoors. If you are calling to report a fatality, please try your call again later…”

  The message continued but I had already stopped listening. I hung up and shoved the phone back in my pocket. Grabbing my bags, I dragged them to the stairwell and dropped them on the floor before I ran up the three flights back to my dorm room. They would only slow me down and I was in a hurry.

  “Elizabeth, open up!” I banged on the door. “We gotta go. Liz, you gotta come with me. Everyone’s dead, Liz, come on. Open up.”

  Tears stung my eyes as I tried to unlock the door with my key, but the dresser was still barring my way in and I couldn’t push the door open. I heaved with all of my might, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Liz!” I called again. “Liz, open the door! It’s Nick, Liz! He’s gone.”

  I almost couldn’t believe it. In fact, I couldn’t believe it. He was gone.

  “Liz, you have to open the door. Open up, Liz.” What was she doing? Why wasn’t she saying anything?

  I thought I heard a moan from inside, or was it a groan?

  Was she okay?

  “Liz?”

  I heard the sound again. This time it was louder.

  “Liz, stop messing with me and open the door!”

  Then I heard it: vomiting. No. Oh, no. Not now. Not Liz. Not my Liz. I heard Liz crying as she continued to vomit. She sounded like she was in pain, and I wasn’t there to help her.

  “Liz, Liz, baby, open the door.”

  “It’s too heavy,” she said softly. I could barely hear her voice.

  “Just push really hard, Liz. You gotta try. You gotta try, Liz, so I can help you.”

  “It…won’t…move.”

  More vomiting.

  More heaving.

  She was crying. I could hear her through the door.

  I pushed harder on the door, trying to fight my way in, but the door hadn’t budged at all. The dresser was too heavy. Liz had barricaded herself so well that nobody – not even me – could get inside to help her.

  Suddenly, I had an idea. Kailey and Jo were gone and we shared a bathroom. Was there a chance they had left their bedroom door unlocked? I realized it was a slim bet, but it was all I had. If I could get into their bedroom, I could access our room through the shared bathroom and try to help Liz. I didn’t know how I would help her, but there had to be a way. I had a car. Maybe I could get her to the hospital before it was too late. There had to be something I could do. The doctors could help her. I knew Liz had said the hospitals were full, but they had to make exceptions. She was so young. Too young to die. They would help her. They had to.

  “Liz, hold on. I’m going to come in through the bathroom, okay?” Liz didn’t respond this time. She was too busy gagging.

  I scurried to the next room and grasped the door knob. I took a deep breath and turned the knob. The door swung open with a squeak and I hurried inside. Part of me was relieved and part of me wondered why the girls hadn’t locked their door. When I saw their bedroom, though, I could tell why: they’d been in too much of a hurry.

  It was true that this pandemic – if you would call it that – had happened quickly. Yesterday things had been normal. Yes, a few people had been sick, but it wasn’t anything like what was happening today. Why, all of a sudden, had the entire world gotten sick? Or was it just Kansas? I still didn’t know. What I did know was that Kailey and Jo had figured something out before me and they had made a break for it. Once again, studying too much and working too hard had offered me the fine rewards of being the last to know when anything happened socially. I made a mental note to not be so anti-social once things got back to normal. If, that is, they ever were normal again.

  Clothes were strewn across the room and books were tossed on the floor.The beds were unmade and there were half-eaten meals still sitting on their desks. The trashcans were overflowing and the dresser drawers were all half-open. Ignoring the mess, I stepped my way to the bathroom and hurried inside, but when I pulled on the opposing bathroom door, the one that opened into my own bedroom, it was locked from the inside.

  “Liz,” I called, knocking on the door. “Liz, I’m right here. Open the door. Liz, can you get to the door?”I pressed my ear against the door but I couldn’t hear anything. Knocking again, I continued to yell. “Liz, everything’s going to be okay. Just open the door, okay? Open the door.”

  Still no sound.

  What was happening in there?

  My key to the main bedroom door wouldn’t work on the bathroom door. It was a push-pin lock, one Liz had switched around shortly after we moved in. Normally, both bathroom doors lock only from the inside, but Jo had a terrible habit of walking into our bedroom unannounced and unwelcome, so Liz had switched the lock. I shuffled my way around the bathroom, trying to find a bobby pin. Surely one of them had one. I pulled out a drawer and rifled through it until I found one. I bent the pin back and pushed it in the small hole on the door handle until I heard the telltale click and the knob finally turned.

  Dropping the bobby pin, I pushed the door open to my room and finally rushed inside to my friend.

  But I was too late.

  Liz’s lifeless body rested in a pile of vomit next to the dresser by the main door. She had died trying to push the dresser out of the way so I could “save” her. She had died waiting for me, scared and alone.

  “No, Liz.”

  I started to cry but forced myself to stay still. I couldn’t rush to her, but oh, I wanted to. This wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair!

  “No!” I screamed, and punched the wall. My hand stung and the tears burned but I had to get out of there. I backed out of my room and closed the door. Why was this happening? Liz didn’t even seem sick when I had left less than twenty minutes earlier. Sure, she had complained of a stomachache the night before, but that wasn’t anything unusual considering the amount of alcohol she consumed. And now she was dead like everyone else.

  I wanted to cry and mourn for my friend. I wanted to give her a proper funeral. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to say goodbye. But there was no time for that.

  Chapter 4

  It didn’t take long for me to remember that I had just recently hugged Liz, and that since I had shared a room with her, I had inevitably been exposed to whatever it was she had gotten. No, we hadn’t shared food or drinks, but if the virus was spread through touch, chances are it was on my clothes. I still didn’t know for sure how you could get it, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Not today.

  Still in the bathroom, I turned on the shower to its hottest setting and stripped down. I jumped in the shower and scrubbed my entire body with Jo’s Cucumber Melon body wash, washed my hair, and hopped back out. I hurried into Kailey and Jo’s room without using any of the towels in the bathroom. Who knew what Liz had touched in there? I grabbed Jo’s comforter off her bed and dried my body as well as I could, then I started looking for clothes.

  Jo was far tinier than I was and Kailey was bigger, but at least her clothes would fit. I grabbed some underwear, a sports bra, a pair of sweats and a hoody from Kailey’s dresser and slid everything on. I didn’t want to risk pulling my combat boots back on, especially after having trekked through Nick’s vomit-filled dormitory room. Kailey’s shoes were all too small for me, but there was a pair of flip flops that would work, so I slipped those on. They were uncomfortable and my toes practically hung off the end of the sandals, but I reminded myself that it was on
ly for a little while. It was just until I got home. Then, I promised myself, then I would have shoes that fit and clothes that were comfortable.

  I didn’t bother to brush my hair and instead slid the hair band I kept on my wrist off and pulled my mop of brown hair back and away from my head. I could worry about looking nice later when I wasn’t in Death Valley. Right now, I just needed to get away. Something was killing people and I didn’t feel like dying alone the way everyone else had.

  I darted down the three flights of stairs and grabbed my backpacks before heading to the first floor. It was time to get the hell out of Dodge: that was for sure. My hands were shaking as I gripped my bags. They felt heavier than they were. It had been a heavy sort of day.

  I skipped the front door of the dorms and instead opted for the back door, the one that opened to the parking lot where my car was parked. I still had gas in it and I wasn’t too far from a back road that would lead me out of town. If the rest of Cedar Brook was anything like Nick and Liz, they were all dying in their cars about now, at least the ones who had been exposed. I peered out the back door of the dormitory. There was no one in sight. I could see my car from the door. I knew I could hobble there with my bags, but running was out of the question. I had way too much stuff to make it there in a hurry. If someone was sick out there or someone who knew me saw me and tried to talk to me, I’d be in trouble.

  Should I leave one of my bags to speed up my travel time? I paused for a moment. My Bug out Bag had everything I’d need for three days: food, water, a poncho. I even had a glow stick and a Swiss army knife in there. I had carefully and meticulously prepared that bag and I couldn’t afford to lose it, but did I really want to survive for three days on stale MREs and granola bars?

  My other backpack, my school bag, had more urgent needs: backup batteries, my food from the health store, and even some soda. I didn’t want to lose that either, though I knew I could afford its loss. What I couldn’t afford, however, was sitting around trying to plan my escape. I had to act fast. I had already waited way too long to leave campus, seemingly oblivious to the chaos unfolding around me. Was I really so self-absorbed that I hadn’t noticed what was happening? Apparently.

  I tried to brush it off, but I felt disappointed in myself and in my behavior. I really was just another ordinary girl: obsessed with myself and more concerned with updating my “status” on the Internet than on building real relationships with other people. That girl would have to die now. It was time for the real me, the strong me, to prove herself. I didn’t care how cliché it was. I had to figure something out. I had to be strong. I tried to stop crying. There would be time for that later. Liz would want me to be successful, I told myself. She would want me to make it out. She would want me to be free.

  In the end, I decided to risk bringing both of my bags. I’d walk slowly, but I’d make it. I could do it.

  You’ve got this.

  The dormitory door opened easily and quietly. I silently thanked the dorm’s janitor, Lynn, for keeping the doors in such pristine shape. That girl was here every day cleaning, scrubbing, and repairing the dorms for us, and she was always in a good mood while she worked. A lot of people hated their jobs, but not her. She always had something positive to say. I heaved a sigh of relief as I carefully closed the door behind me. I listened for a moment but didn’t hear any voices. The girls from the side street must have returned to their dorms or found somewhere to go. I was glad. While I’d normally be one to offer rides to anyone who seemed to need one, I wasn’t feeling so generous today. No, today I was ready to look out for number one. Today I was ready to get my escape.

  I stepped out from under the awning by the door and immediately felt the cold drip of water on my face. Rain again. It wasn’t pouring yet, just a thin, unsteady drizzle, as if the sky couldn’t decide what sort of mood it was in. I started walking straight to the car, keys in hand, ready to hop in. I looked around and didn’t see anything. Most of the parking lot was empty, even emptier than it had been this morning. I figured that Liz had been right and a lot of people had just decided to get out and go home. I hoped the access roads weren’t as blocked as the ones within the city.

  I popped the trunk open and tossed my bags inside. I looked around anxiously the whole time. Even though it looked like I was alone, I couldn’t help feeling like I was missing something. Was someone out there? Or was the impact of the infection finally starting to hit me? I almost expected someone to jump out and grab me. Things were too quiet, especially when earlier the streets had been filled with chaos and rioting. I reminded myself quickly that I was in the middle of campus, far from the heart of town, and that things were calmer here.

  I slid into the driver’s side door and hit the locks. I peeked into the back seat to make sure no one was hiding in there. I’d seen a few too many murder movies to trust my back seat, despite knowing that the chances of someone hiding in my car were minimal. You could never be too cautious, right?I turned the key and my Saturn roared to life. The car was nearly 10 years old but you’d never know it. The thing drove like a dream. I loved driving a stick, though. There’s just a feeling of control and power that you don’t get with an automatic. At least, that’s what my dad told me. And I agreed with him.

  I backed out of the parking spot and shifted to 1st before I noticed the shadows in the rearview mirror. There were people encircling the dorms. I squinted to try to see who –or what- it was, but I couldn’t tell. Maybe it was just students returning to the dorms. Maybe it was the Red Cross coming to help. Whoever it was, I wasn’t going to wait around to find out. If someone was coming to get the bodies, they’d be able to do their jobs just as quickly without me. If it was someone coming to put the dorms on lock down, well, they’d been too late for me.

  I gunned my little Saturn and sped out of the parking lot. A quick right turned me toward the back of campus. I could already see one of the cornfields I’d told Elizabeth about. The next left brought me behind the library and onto the access road that led through the fields. There were no students here, no one walking around, and no cars trying to escape. There was no one now. Only me.

  I sped down the road for half a mile before I allowed myself to look back. Smoke billowed into the sky above the city. I brought my car to a stop in the middle of the road and hopped out to just stare at the sky. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. It was the type of smoke you’d seen in one of those rescue movies about the bravery of firemen. Today, there were no firemen: only death.

  The smell of burning filled the air. I could hear screams now, but no sirens. I wondered what had started the fire. Had it been a government official who wanted to contain the outbreak? Was it an accident, caused by someone who had gotten sick and neglected to turn their stove off? Maybe it was one of those campaigns against smoking. I could just picture the ad: “Smoking causes infection.”

  I stood for a moment in the middle of the road and stared at the town. I had, apparently, gotten out in the nick of time. Finally, I slid back into my seat and locked the door again. I flipped on the radio and tried a few stations before I finally found one that was still broadcasting. Even at just half a mile outside town, the station was full of static and difficult to make out.

  “…worst flu outbreak in the history of….but is it really the flu?...stay indoors…government officials warn that…hospitals are full and are not accepting new patients….not accepting new patients….stay indoors…”

  With a sigh, I continued driving. I could head for my parents’ house. Glancing at my gas gauge, I knew I could make it about halfway at least. I doubted if any gas stations would be operating by the time I needed to fill up. If the electricity was already flickering from fires and civil unrest, it wouldn’t be back on in an hour, which meant there would be no electric gas pumps and no ATM machines working. A lot of farmers had non-electric gas pumps on their land as a way to fill up without having to deal with the gas stations, but those would all be locked and I doubted anyone would be in a s
haring mood. Not today. Not anymore.

  I left the radio on as I drove, hoping for some news, but the only thing I received was more questions. What was going on? What was this virus? It certainly wasn’t the flu, no matter how many times people called it that. The flu didn’t kill you in twenty minutes. The flu didn’t make your eyes glaze over grey. And if this wasn’t the flu, what was in the vaccine that they’d been pushing? Had that been what had caused all of this?

  The road before me was straight and unbending. I could see before me for miles. There was nothing. It was just me and the road now.To my left, I could see one of the highways leading out of Cedar Brook. A stream of cars sat on the road, honking at one another. A few people were wandering into the cornfields on foot and a few cars were trying to make it, too. The highway was higher than the fields, though, and a few cars ended up rolling down it, rendering the vehicles entirely useless. I said a quick prayer as I drove and watched, trying to pay attention to where I was going but thankful, at the same time, that I wasn’t one of the poor souls stuck on the highway where everyone was dying.

  Suddenly, the voice I’d been listening to on the radio disappeared and was replaced with the emergency broadcast system. The telltale horny siren sounded and then an official announcement came.

  “This is not a drill,” the voice boomed. “This is not a drill. Do not go outside.This is not a drill. Remain indoors for your own safety. This is not a drill. Do not go outside. This is not a drill.”

  The repetition got me. I listened to the same message on repeat for a few minutes before I finally turned it off. So far I knew nothing. Why was there even a broadcast if it was just going to offer useless information? I didn’t know anything more than I’d known hours ago,except that there were widespread power outages and, according to my understanding of the beautiful Kansas sky, a major storm was coming.