Never Look Back: A Dystopian Novel

by Mortimer, L. C.

  I glanced up at the gathering clouds and the darkness that enveloped the air above me. Running from an infection and an entire city of dying citizens was one thing, but running from them in the rain was entirely different. I was a good driver and I knew I could manage my car just fine, but could I do it with people following me? Chasing me? Groaning and moaning and calling out for me? Probably not.Then again, maybe I was overreacting and imagining things. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe I’d wake up and Liz would be fine. She’d pat me on the head and laugh when I told her all about it. Only I knew that wouldn’t happen. It hadn’t been a dream. It had been very, very real.

  Eventually, I knew, some of those people from the highway, some of those people stuck in their vehicles with dying children and dead spouses would make their ways to the road I was on and either try to follow me to safety or try to take my car for fuel. I didn’t feel like getting coughed on, breathed on, or sneezed on, so I needed to either book it or find a good place to hide. Another glance at the darkening sky and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it home tonight, no matter how much gas I had. Driving on the highway in a storm was one thing. Driving on a gravel road in a storm was something entirely different. Gravel roads were unpredictable. Without the street lights of city roads, it would be nearly impossible to see potholes and flooding, which was common in areas the road didn’t have a ditch on the side.

  I reached the intersection where the access road met with Garnet Highway. I turned right and headed south. I could follow this road for a while and try to find some shelter. Even if I had to stop for a few hours or even overnight, I was headed in the direction of my family’s farm, and that was what mattered.

  My family.

  Suddenly I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Mom and Dad were strong and determined, but most of all they were always prepared. When the threat of Y2K loomed, Dad had recently gotten out of the military and we were living in the city. He relocated us to the middle of nowhere in case all hell broke loose. As it turns out, no major earth-shattering destruction has resulted, but they had grown to love country life and decided to stay. Soon raising chickens and goats wasn’t enough to satiate their desire to be “real farmers,” and they had added a cow, a couple of ducks, and a trusty blue heeler to the mix.

  While I had no doubt that my parents could survive anything, I wonder if they had been prepared for something like this: something so bad, so terrifying, so utterly ridiculous that when you stopped to think about it, it didn’t make any sense. What had caused this crazed mania? How had the influenza virus mutated into a strain of illness and disease that caused normal citizens to just stop breathing? Or had it been the the flu at all? Was the “influenza outbreak” just a government cover to prevent us all from figuring out what was really going on this fall?

  I didn’t know.

  And I didn’t have time to worry about it.

  The storm clouds were rolling in and the rain pellets were already falling hard and fast. Soon the poorly maintained roads would be slick and my car was not the best at driving on slippery streets. I turned my wipers on as fast as they would go and squinted to watch for anything unusual as I drove.

  I saw the occasional mailbox and a few driveways, but there were no other cars and no stray wanderers on the road.I kept going for a few minutes, gradually decreasing my speed as the rain fell harder. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, illuminating the pitch black sky.

  The rain was coming harder now and the thunder made it impossible to hear anything, not that there was much to hear in the dark. I felt a sickening in the pit of my stomach as I realized that I would need a place to hide. I wasn’t familiar enough with this road in the dark to be able to evade large numbers of the ill. If I parked my car on the side of the road for the night, there was no telling who might find me or try to get inside.

  I needed shelter, and I needed it fast.

  I sped up as much as I dared for a few minutes. My car started to slide and I braked slowly, realizing that I had to get out now. Up ahead I saw the tell-tale reflection of a metal mailbox. I slowed down and turned into the narrow driveway. Trees lined the driveway on either side as I drove down the gravel road to an overbearing brick house. It was more like a mansion, really, which was unusual for this side of Cedar Brook. Most of the homes in this area were worn and in need of a good paint job. Working farmers couldn’t afford luxuries like refinishing the exterior of their house or spending money on fancy new shutters. No, their money went into crops, fertilizer, and feed.

  My brakes squeaked loudly as I slid to a stop in the already-muddy driveway. I shoved them in my pocket as I locked my door and closed it slowly, but firmly. I didn’t have time to grab anything else: the storm was coming and within seconds of getting out of the car, I would be completely soaked.

  Was anyone coming? Had anyone followed me? I didn’t know, and I didn’t wait to find out. Maybe the house was full of the infected. There were, after all, a few other cars parked in the driveway. I didn’t wait to see and I didn’t risk knocking on the door. I knew where my hiding place of choice was: the abandoned tree house at the side of the main home.

  I popped my trunk first and grabbed a backpack. If I was going to get stranded, I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to do it without any food. I closed the trunk and ran to the tree house. The backpack banged against my back as I ran. I wondered if anyone could hear my footsteps as I sloshed through mud puddles and hurried to the tree house.

  Chapter 5

  The fort itself was nestled a good eight feet off the ground. It had a hanging rope to climb up it, which presented a bit of a problem since some of the knots were worn and the entire rope was wet. I’d never had to climb a rope in gym class, not like all the teenage high school movies showed, but I didn’t have much of a choice now. I firmly gripped the rope and heaved my body up, placing my feet together on one of the lower knots. A few more pulls and jumps and sways, and I pulled my body up on the fort.

  It wasn’t a house as I had previously thought, and there was little coverage on this fort. It was really more of a platform with sides. One half of the fort had a miniature roof. It looked like someone’s dad had started to build the fort but had either forgotten or just never had time to complete the job. I pulled the rope up behind me and rested my body on the floor of the fort. My backpack sat next to me.

  The rain was still falling, but the half-roof offered some protection. This tree still had most of its leaves, as well, which gave me even more coverage from the torrential downfall surrounding me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I rested in the darkness. To my surprise, I didn’t feel afraid of the dark tonight the way that I thought I would. Normally, I was a bit of a sissy when it came to shadows and ghosts, but not tonight. Tonight I was being haunted for real, and there was no time for kid stuff.

  Should I have stayed in my car? Maybe. The next time thunder rang out, though, I realized that I had made the right choice. I didn’t think anyone would be wandering around in the rain now, but if they did, I didn’t want to be in a place where I was a visible target, especially while I was sleeping. At least in the fort I was away from my car. No one could see me from the ground even if they were looking for me. And I had the rope ladder, so there was no way up.

  I leaned back against the side of the fort and started to dig through my backpack. I was suddenly starving and I needed something – anything – to eat. When I opened my pack, though, the granola bar that had seemed like such a wonderful idea in theory looked about as appetizing as chopped liver. I zipped the bag back up and placed it next to me.

  I suddenly felt exhausted and overwhelmed. This day had been nothing but a nightmare, and I had barely made it fifteen miles outside of Cedar Brook. I was far enough away that I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone with the virus finding me on foot, but if someone had gotten a car before the infection set in, they could be wandering around.

  I wondered for what felt like the millionth time how widespread it was. Was everyone in the wor
ld dead or dying? Why hadn’t I caught it? How long did it take to set in once you did get it? And what would happen to me now? The tears fell easily and this time I didn’t try to stop them. I just let it out. The thunder covered the sounds of my sobs as I finally let myself think about the fact that I would never see my friends again. I would never get to go back in time and have the “real” college experience I had dreamed of. My closest companion had died alone waiting for me.

  I should have saved her.

  ***

  I woke up when I had to pee.

  It must have been mid-morning the next day because the sun was up and had been for some time, if the warmth of the air was any indication. I peeked out from the side of the tree house, but there didn’t seem to be any movement or action going on. The farmhouse, at least what I could see of it, appeared to be quiet. Was anyone home? Was anyone alive? Did they have any information about what was going on in the world?

  Before I could even think about what to do next, I needed to relieve myself. I tossed my backpack to the ground and shimmied down the rope ladder, burning my hands in the process. The roughness of the rope burned and I bit my lip in pain, but didn’t shout. I wanted to. I wasn’t one for pain, but I didn’t need to draw any undue attention to myself, at least until I knew what was going on with the virus. I gave my hands nothing more than a passing glance as I quickly did my business in the shade of the tree.

  Growing up on a farm had given me more useful skills than I’d ever imagined. My grandmother, God bless her, had never particularly viewed me as a lady, and she certainly wouldn’t consider me “marriage material” if she had known I could urinate outdoors without soaking myself. It was a skill I was happy to have.

  I slid my backpack on and leaned against the tree for a moment as I observed the house. The bricks were in pristine condition and although the driveway was gravel, the cars that were parked out front all looked new. There had to be someone inside there. I was suddenly overcome with the urge to go knock, to go find out if everyone was okay, to ask if they knew what was happening in the world, but I didn’t. The bloody handprint I had just spotted on the downstairs window was enough to make me bolt to my car, hop inside, and lock the doors.

  The engine roared to life and before I could even wonder about the handprint, I was back on the road and heading south. Maybe I’d be able to make it home today.

  Maybe.

  The roads looked clear so far, but I would stay away from the highways just to be safe. I drove steady at about 40, careful to watch for random potholes and puddles as I hurried along the forgotten road.

  Once I’d set my pace, I flipped on the radio and pushed through the channels until I finally found one with someone talking. The feed was full of static and the voice was low, but I cranked up the volume knob until I could hear it.

  “So what happened, Jill? You’re saying that yesterday nearly everyone was okay, but suddenly today half the world’s population is dead?” The man spoke with a faint accent. English, maybe? He sounded older, but informed.

  A woman responded to him. Her voice was steady and calm. “The most recent reports are stating that an estimated 32% of Americans are dead. Numbers for those infected are not available, primarily because the infection runs its course so quickly. Hospitals are completely overrun and there’s no way to dispose of or manage the deceased. There’s simply no space, not enough workers, and to be blunt, not enough people left alive. Everyone’s scared. Everyone’s staying home. No one knows how this is spreading or even how it started.”

  The man’s voice sounded again.

  Definitely English.

  “Well not, let me ask you this: how do you think this started? Last week there was commercial after commercial and report after report urging people, even commanding people to get vaccinated against the flu, but now there’s this killer virus that’s killing people in a matter of hours after they first experience symptoms. What’s your take?”

  “If you’re asking me if this year’s flu vaccine caused this virus we’re seeing, I would have to politely say ‘no.’ The flu vaccine was released nearly a month ago with little implications and only standard minor side effects reported. The side effects reported were minor, such as slight fever, swelling at the injection site, or headaches. No one got ill from the flu vaccine. The flu vaccine is effective and safe and is not related to the virus we’ve been seeing the last two days.”

  “What about the possibility of a ‘bad batch’ of the vaccine? Could it be possible that the most recent batch was somehow tainted?”

  “While that’s always a slight possibility,” the woman hesitated, “the chances of a batch of vaccines becoming somehow tainted or infected is incredibly low. There are safety precautions and standards in place for a reason, and the utmost caution is taken to prevent any sort of problems with the vaccines during production.”

  Who was this woman? And why was she so adamant that vaccines were a cure-all? I thought of the autism-vaccine scare in recent years and how many parents had started to question whether vaccinations were safe or effective. I was thankful I didn’t have kids and didn’t have to make those tough choices, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the female voice was hiding something. There had been vaccination recalls in the past. They were rare, sure, and for minor things, but they happened. What if the shots really did make people sick? And if it wasn’t the shots, what had caused this virus? And how was it spread?

  “Now, Jill,” the English man cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me,” he said, as he coughed a few times. Was he sick? “Pardon me, I apologize for that,” he was obviously embarrassed as he continued with the interview. “Now, what do we know about the spread of the virus? Obviously we don’t know exactly how it began, but do we know how it is spread? I would assume it’s not airborne. Perhaps it’s spread through touching or saliva exchange? How long is the incubation period? And is there a name yet for this virus?”

  The woman laughed nervously. At least, I perceived it to be nervous. It was hard to tell over the radio, but she didn’t seem as confident as one would hope a medical professional to be. Then again, I had missed the part of the interview that listed her credentials.

  Was this woman a doctor?

  A nurse?

  A government official?

  A vaccine representative?

  “That’s a lot of questions, Phil,” she began, “but I’ll do my best to answer them fully. As of this morning at 0900 hours, the virus is being referred to as the D-Virus. No one is exactly sure what exactly causes the virus to progress so quickly, and the incubation period is, at this moment, somewhat unclear. What we do know is that once the initials symptoms present themselves, the virus tends to run its course within three to five hours. Symptoms range from vomiting and nausea to stomach pain. Some infected with D-Virus experience a high fever, while others get extreme headaches. The one common factor that all D-Virus victims experience is a tell-tale blue rash on the abdomen.”

  “A blue rash?”

  “Yes. A blue rash. It almost appears to be a bruise just above the belly button, but is in fact a long, thin rash.”

  “Is there any cure for D-Virus that we know of? Is there any way to stop the onset of the virus once someone has been exposed?”

  “The most important thing to remember is to stay calm, Phil. There is absolutely no need to panic. Everyone should stay home as much as possible, wash their hands on a regular basis, and avoid contact with anyone who may be ill. Keep in mind that during situations such as this, panic only makes the situation worse. Instead of going out to the store or going to visit your neighbors, simply stay inside. It’s best if people do not have contact with anyone outside their home as this could spread the infection further.”

  “There are currently reports of widespread power outages, gas shortages, and rioting. It seems like people absolutely are panicking.” The man’s voice sounded stressed, even scared. “Even the grocery stores are shutting their doors, Jill, as many of them are com
pletely out of stock of everything.”

  “Panicking is not going to solve the problem or help anyone. While it’s certainly not a good time to try to order pizza, there is also no need to run out to the store. Everyone should stay home as much as possible. Stay indoors and away from other people. Wash your hands. If you feel you must go out, simply wear a mask or scarf over your face to prevent exposure to germs, but again, realize that we still aren’t exactly sure how the virus spreads, so…”

  The static got thicker and Jill’s voice trailed off. It didn’t matter. I had heard enough. Whoever these “officials” were, they didn’t know anything about anything. “Stay at home” and “don’t panic” were the types of things that the media said when the very things you should be doing were evacuating and panicking. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief that I had gotten out of Cedar Brook when I had. While it was still later than I should have left, I had no doubt that the shit was going to hit the fan there sooner than later, and I would be long gone when it did.

  The funny thing about a crisis – any crisis – is that people tend to second guess themselves and wonder “am I crazy?” The road was clear before me, surrounded by cornfields on either side, and I felt calmer than I’d felt in days as I drove. My gas meter was on a quarter tank, my backpack still had plenty of granola bars, and I had survived my first night in the wilderness. I had wondered, for a moment, if I was crazy for running away from Cedar Brook, but all I had to do was close my eyes and pictured Liz, and I didn’t feel so crazy anymore.

  Chapter 6

  I made it nearly halfway home before I ran out of gas. The “empty” light had been on for nearly fifteen minutes before the car finally sputtered loudly to a slow stop. I steered slightly to the side of the road so I wouldn’t be completely blocking traffic if another car jaunted by. The narrow gravel road was barely two lanes, and forget about a shoulder. The deep ditch that veered down from the side of the road was not a place I wanted to end up, so I parked the car, removed my keys, and thought about what I should do next.