What Remains (Book 2): Quarantine

by Barrett, Tyler

  Inside there was a single infected, which Arata took out effortlessly with a shot to its head. The gunshot was loud in the small room. As they gave the room another long sweep, they heard several groans from the hallway. Before they had time to act the soldier fell back into the room, tackled by two infected. The soldier struggled, but it was too late, and the infected both tore into him. Yuuto shot one infected, while Arata yanked the other one off the soldier.

  Arata had pulled the infected off, but now it’s focus was on him, throwing its weight at him, grabbing at his legs. Before Yuuto could help him, another infected crossed into the room. Yuuto quickly aimed at the new infected, ending it with a single shot. Turning his attention back to Arata, he saw that he wasn’t needed, as Arata bashed in the infected person's brain with the butt of his rifle. The anger displayed on his face, Arata kept swinging until he ran out of stamina and collapsed.

  Yuuto stared at him, with an understanding, that fight, or flight had kicked in. Arata was now covered in blood from the attack. Yuuto looked back at the soldier who lay dead on the ground. His throat had been torn out and had bled out quickly. Knowing what must be done Yuuto aimed his rifle at the soldier’s head. A quick shot destroyed the soldier's brain, making sure wouldn't succumb to the infection.

  The sergeant and the other two soldiers made their way into the room. Before the sergeant could ask what happened, he knew. He looked down at the body of the dead soldier. His face showed only regret as he ordered the other two soldiers to grab the dead soldier's body.

  The sergeant said without turning to look at Yuuto and Arata, “Are either of you bit?”

  “No,” they both replied.

  “Alright, well, return to your patrol, we cleared the rest of the building,” stated the sergeant.

  Yuuto didn't wait, walking briskly out of the room, heading for the stairs. Each time he was forced to kill a soldier, he felt a small part of his soul ripped away. He felt sick to his stomach but forced down the bile that tried to come up. He focused on walking, planting each foot in front of the other.

  Once he was outside, he felt the fresh air hit him, and it gave him a small feeling of calm. Yuuto didn’t stop and continued down the street. He had made it to the end of the block before Arata called out to him.

  “Yuuto! Yuuto, wait.”

  Yuuto stopped, turning to look back at Arata. Once he caught up, Yuuto felt reality come back to him, and suddenly he could smell the smoke in the air, hear the small arms fire in the distance. Yuuto looked at Arata, and saw he was covered in blood, and got out a rag from his pocket he usually used to wipe sweat away.

  “Here, use this to clean up some of that blood,” said Yuuto holding it out for Arata.

  As he reached out to give the rag to Arata, noticing that his leg had a lot more blood on it than it did before. He stared at Arata's leg and looking at it closely, he could see were part of his pants leg was torn. It was from this wound that blood was flowing. Yuuto immediately thought back to the attack back into the apartment.

  He thought hard about the events that happened during the attack. Replaying the events in his head; first, he saw the soldier fall with two infected on top of him. Second, he shot one while Arata grabbed the other one off. Third, another infected came into the room, and he quickly turned and shot him. Time froze in his head as he tried to remember what he saw out of the corner of his eye.

  It was Arata, his face in pain. The infected he had pulled off the soldier had grabbed Arata's leg and bitten his leg.

  “You-you're infected!” Yuuto said backing away.

  “I’m not one of them yet…” said Arata with pain, “I feel fine besides the fact that bastard took a bite out if my leg.”

  Yuuto looked at Arata, “You know there’s nothing I can do for you. You know what happens once you are infected.”

  “Take me back to the checkpoint. I want to at least complete my duty, finish this last patrol. If I don't make it, then end me, like you promised you would,” said Arata pleading.

  Yuuto stared back at Arata, knowing he at least owed it to him to allow his last wish, “Alright, let's quickly get you back to the checkpoint.”

  They began walking towards the checkpoint, which was six blocks away. It seemed like a cross-country trek, as Arata was slow moving with his leg injured. Yuuto walked nearby Arata, but not close enough to be grabbed if he did turn. He felt terrible treating Arata like this, but he was infected and could turn at any moment.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  After what seemed an eternity, Yuuto and Arata were finally in sight of the checkpoint, and it was the home stretch. Arata was already beginning to show the signs of infection, he was sweating, and along the left side of his neck was webbed with blackened veins visible through his skin. A block away from the checkpoint Arata began to lose his footing and stumbled.

  Yuuto against his judgment moved closer and helped Arata up, putting his arm around him for support, “C'mon, we are almost there. Just a little further.”

  With Yuuto's support, they were able to make the distance to the checkpoint. The soldiers on guard duty looked at them with worried but concerned looks as they passed by. Ignoring them, Yuuto led Arata to the tent where his cot was. He helped him lay down, Arata had passed out, and Yuuto knew it wouldn't be long before he turned. Daichi entered the tent, stopping midway into the tent fixated on Arata.

  “He's… Infected,” Diachi stated with concern.

  Yuuto nodded, “He wanted to come back and be with the rest of the guys…”

  “He can't stay here; he's infected. He's a threat to us,” Diachi said uncomfortably.

  “What do you want me to do?” Asked Yuuto angrily, “He's under your command, and you want to what, just kill him?”

  “N-no. That's… I'm sorry. I mean we need to isolate him, we can't risk him turning and infecting more people. We are already shorthanded as it is,” said Diachi wearily, “We need to quarantine him in one of the holding cells.”

  “No,” said Yuuto with rising anger, “We can't treat him like that, I'll stay with him. I made him a promise. I'd make sure he didn't turn. I intend on keeping that promise.”

  Diachi pointed, “Look at him; he looks like he could turn at any moment-”

  “SHUT UP, YOU SPINELESS ASS!” Yelled Yuuto, standing up and getting in Diachi’s face.

  Daichi looked shocked; Yuuto had never yelled at an officer, let alone Diachi before. There was a long silence, just both men staring each other down. Daichi backed away, “He's your responsibility then. One more thing, yell at me again, and I'll see to it that you are put in a holding cell.”

  Yuuto ignored him, looking back at Arata. He was extremely pale, his breathing labored; Diachi had been right it wouldn’t be long before Arata became one of the infected. Yuuto heard Arata asking him to keep him promise over and over in his head, trying to make it easier, but he knew it wouldn’t be.

  Arata opened his eyes, startling Yuuto, “Its ok…Yuuto,” he said wheezing between breaths, “You are here…to keep…your…promise. I’m not…upset…promise me one… more thing.”

  Yuuto grabbed Arata's hand, “Anything!”

  “Promise me…you will fight…you will live…” Arata said before taking his final breath.

  It was Arata's death rattle, his grip on Yuuto's hand loosened, his eyes went wide staring into nothingness. Yuuto felt remorse well up inside that there was nothing he could do to prevent this. Keeping true to his promise he unlatched his sidearm from his holster, aiming it at Arata's head.

  “I promise…I promise, Arata,” Yuuto said with a shaky voice and hand.

  Through sheer will and effort, Yuuto found the courage to keep his friends first promise, pulling the trigger. With a loud bang, Arata wouldn't be coming back as the infected he feared.

  Chapter 15

  Isamu had arrived at the bus depot to find his sleep-deprived boss giving the final evacuation routes. These would be the final bus rides they would have to provide before being evacua
ted along with their families. Isamu was ecstatic about the thought of never having to drive the bus again, having already decided that once all this was over, he was quitting.

  Wanting to be done as quickly as possible he jogged to his bus, sitting down in the driver’s seat. Isamu relishing in the fact that this was the last time he would ever have to endure the uncomfortable seat, deal with the broken AC, or have to deal with making sure he was on time for his route. He started the bus up with a loud rumble that quickly died down. The loud hiss of his brakes releasing indicated that he was ready to go.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Thirty minutes later he had arrived at his last pickup point. There were lots of people waiting as the day before. Again, the people had panicked, frightened faces, but this time so did some of the soldiers. Isamu pulled his bus behind the stretched line of other buses, ready to be loaded up with people.

  However shortly after he stopped his bus, a group of soldiers jogged over to him and knocked on his door.

  Isamu opened the door, “Is everything okay?”

  The soldier that knocked on the door spoke, “We need you to take us to the nearby hospital.”

  “But I have orders to pick up the people here, to help evacuate,” replied Isamu.

  “As we have our orders to commandeer a bus to evacuate civilians from the nearby hospital,” replied the soldier as they climbed on board.

  This order didn’t sit well with Isamu at all, bringing back the uncomfortable memories of driving the people to the hospital the first time he drove for the military. He started to feel the same knot in his stomach appear, just like last time he obeyed the soldiers fearing being arrested or worse.

  Isamu left the line of buses, driving the soldiers to the nearby hospital. The entire bus ride there was silent, as the soldiers sat staring out with solemn content. The four soldiers seemed unfazed by the chaos in the streets as they drove by. Isamu tried to ignore the silence, focusing instead again on the fact that this would be his last day driving the bus.

  Within a few minutes, they pulled up to the hospital, which looked abandoned from outside the main entrance. Nonetheless, the soldiers left the bus, one staying just outside the bus door, while the other three went inside. After a few minutes of waiting a steady stream of doctors walked out of the hospital. Seventeen doctors walked out and began boarding Isamu's bus.

  Four more soldiers had joined the three that had gone inside the hospital. Once they were outside the door, one of the soldiers from the hospital set down a heavy tank near the main doors. The soldier produced a welding cutter and began welding the doors closed. Just a quick seal along each set of doors. Isamu was a little disturbed by this and began to wonder what they were trying to keep in.

  The doctors on board were whispering, but Isamu caught the occasional word. He heard infection and infected thrown around a few times. Were the soldiers really closing off an infected building? What was this infection that the doctors spoke of?

  Isamu could feel his heart and mind racing, thinking of all the possibilities, all the deadly diseases, and viruses in the world. He became extremely uncomfortable with the idea of driving around doctors who were most likely around the infected. He hoped and prayed that none of the doctors or soldiers were sick.

  Before he could express his concern, the soldiers boarded the bus, telling him to proceed to the original drop off location. As Isamu drove he glanced at the doctors in his rearview mirror, double checking to make sure none of them were sick, hoping that nothing happened on the route. Besides looking tired, they seemed healthy; he just tried to focus on the road in front of them.

  Everything was fine until they got halfway to the drop off point. A doctor began to yell, “I need help!”

  Isamu let off the gas, looking up into his mirror, trying to see what the commotion was. Towards the back of the bus, he could see a pair of feet sticking out into the aisle of the bus, and a doctor standing over the seat. None of the other doctors moved to help the man. Instead, two soldiers got out of their seats, quickly made their way to them. The first soldier to reach them shoved the doctor out of the way to look at the man laying down, pulling up his rifle, aiming.

  The doctor grabbed the soldier's shoulder, pleading, “H-he can’t be sick, I was just talking to him no longer than half an hour ago. He said he was going to take a nap!”

  “Get off me. You know the symptoms, and you know what we must do…you’ve been dealing with it all week. There's noth-aaaaaaaaahh!”

  The soldier screamed in pain, and before Isamu could ask what was going on, white-hot pain erupted in the Isamu’s leg. His ears rang before his brain even began to process what was happening. Gunfire had exploded in the small interior of the bus deafening all inside. The soldier had been attacked by the man laying down, and in response, the soldier instinctively pulled the trigger of his rifle. Bullets found their mark in several places, but none of them were in the man who attacked him.

  One soldier had taken the brunt of the gunfire to his chest; one doctor had been shot in the shoulder while another had taken a bullet in the mouth, another soldier had been hit in the arm. Isamu had been shot in the leg, beginning to bleed profusely. Chaos ensued as the uninjured soldiers attempted to shoot the infected man. Isamu tried to keep the bus steady but slowly felt himself start to get dizzy.

  Isamu just kept telling himself that this was his last day. It wasn’t enough to keep him going as he started to lose consciousness. His vision began to blacken, and he could feel his heartbeat, each pump of his heart. Isamu slumped into the wheel of the bus. The bus itself began to swerve as they headed down the street. The soldiers lost their footing, and once more bullets sporadically flew through the bus.

  One of the few cars driving down the street tried to avoid the bus but was too slow. Isamu had passed out, pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The car was no match for the bus slamming into it, shoving it aside. The bus bounced off the car and went with its new path, slamming into a store, crashing right through the doorway.

  The bus came to its final stop. The crash had sent adrenaline into Isamu's system, barely waking him. He felt someone grab him, shoving him off the door control. He heard several footsteps move past him, followed by screams, but couldn’t make out where or who they were coming from. Reality slipped from him; he couldn’t keep himself alert. It wasn’t long until he felt someone else grab him, but this time there was extreme pressure on his arm. He caught a glimpse, of a soldier biting into his arm.

  He didn’t feel anything though; it was already too late for him. Isamu's blood loss had finally caught up to him. His heart stopped, and he died. Shortly after the virus that had found a new host quickly replicated itself and took over. For the last time, Isamu climbed off his bus, after all, it was his last day.

  Chapter 16

  Yuuto was on guard duty, but it didn’t matter to him, he already felt empty. Arata’s death was sitting hard on him, and it seemed as though no one else noticed. Arata hadn't been the only death that had been dealt by the infection. Two other soldiers had been killed at another checkpoint after being transferred. It was apparent to Yuuto that they were losing the battle against the infected.

  He didn’t know who to blame the government for keeping it secret or the poor leadership decisions the military had made. Either way, it didn’t matter he was angry and ready to take it out on something. He stared at the civilians that they processed, hoping that one would turn into an infected so he could show that he wasn’t afraid of them; that they wouldn't beat him.

  After an hour he noticed though that no more civilians were coming to the checkpoint. The street was barren, and that’s when Yuuto noticed that it was oddly quiet as well. Another half hour passed, and no one came, and he began to wonder what was going on. Off in the distance, small arms fire had erupted from the direction of a nearby checkpoint.

  All the soldier’s turned their heads to look towards the sound. Daichi came out from the command tent, “You four head over to
checkpoint bravo, we can’t hail them on the radio, and we need to make sure they are ok,” he said pointing at a group of soldiers.

  The four soldiers climbed into a nearby truck and took off towards the other checkpoint. Several minutes passed as the gunfire continued until it died down.

  A soldier sprinted out of the tent, quietly telling Daichi something, turning his face sour, “Everyone gear up, grab your extra mags, there is a horde headed this way. As of this morning, I haven't been able to reach command to receive orders. Prepare, while I attempt one more time to connect with command.”

  Yuuto’s heart began to race, as he and the rest of the soldiers all ran to the armory and began to load up. They moved several ammo crates out, and they sat in a circle prepping as many magazines as they could. One soldier got up, moving to the wall to serve as a lookout.

  Diachi came out of the command tent with a desperate look, “Men, I understand if you wish to leave and try to find your families. Those who wish to stay and defend this post, I commend you. I have served with you proudly, and hope that we may make some good from this situation.”

  No one moved, as they all understood what they were fighting for. The people, some of their own families moving south, as ordered by those soldiers defending Tokyo. From the time the last person was processed to the gunfire meant that those who had no way to protect themselves only had about a two-hour head start. As Diachi began to make his way back into the tent, the soldier on lookout shouted, “Infected headed this way!”

  Yuuto picked up his rifle, manning the wall along with the other soldiers. He glanced amongst the soldier’s, seeing their fear, but all trying to hide it. He noticed that Diachi had taken post next to him prepared to fight with them. Diachi and Yuuto made eye contact, giving each other a small nod of respect, before looking forward and seeing the horde approaching. They opened fire once the infected were in range, but it did little to slow them.