Crash refreshed the
page to see if anything new had been posted in the past half hour.
A couple of news
articles. Six new videos. A new report on the death toll in Georgia
and Texas. Nothing groundbreaking.
He was watching one of
the latest videos when the new message sound dinged. He clicked over
to his inbox and read the subject line of a new private message from
his friend Atomic.
PRIORITY!!! What the hell are we dealing with
here?
Crash double clicked the
message, his heart racing and his hand gripping his mouse.
Hey man. I just came
across this new video posted to a private forum I belong to. The dude
who posted it said he has a cousin who works for this news station
and that he risked everything to get this footage out there. Watch it
and get back to me. What the hell are we dealing with? Do you think
this could be legit? If it is, my mind just got blown. ~Atomic P.S.
How are you feeling? Any signs?
There was a video
attached to the message and Crash leaned forward in his chair. He
moved the video player to his center screen and pressed play.
An older man with salt
and pepper hair spoke into a microphone that had the letters ‘WKBX’
on the handle. He looked like your typical reporter in a suit and tie
with a hard-on for breaking news. Crash had seen dozens just like him
in the videos he’d watched so far. The only difference was that
this guy had one of those white surgical masks stretched across his
face. As if that would protect him in a hospital full of infected.
“This is Neil
Snow reporting for WKBX, Raleigh,” the reporter said in his
best trained-for-TV voice. “I’m here at Raleigh Hospital
where a quarantine has been in effect for the past four days. Under
special orders from the Governor, our news crew has been allowed
inside the quarantine zone for an exclusive look at what is going on
behind closed doors.”
The reporter motioned
to the door behind him, which was labeled “Morgue” in
bold black letters. “And one of the first doors we’re
going behind is the one with the biggest secrets of all. Contrary to
what some officials want you to believe, the flu that has brought
patients here in droves is much worse than the seasonal flu, the
swine flu, or any other strain of the flu that we’ve seen in
recent years. In fact, some doctors here are saying this outbreak
will be several times worse than the 1918 Spanish Flu Pandemic that
killed an estimated fifty million people worldwide.”
“Some of the
images we’re about to show may be disturbing.” Pausing
for effect, the reporter stepped in front of the door and drew his
eyebrows together in a serious expression. After a moment of silence,
he opened the swinging door to the hospital’s morgue.
Inside the room, bodies
were stacked on top of each other up to six feet high along the
walls. Even though Crash had seen similar images in previous videos,
he still felt his gut churn. The reporter explained the images as the
cameraman slowly panned from one end of the room to the other.
“More than
one-third of the patients who were being treated at this hospital are
now found here in the morgue. As you can see here, this facility has
run out of room for their normal procedures and have started to stack
the bodies of the dead on top of each other. A doctor I spoke to when
I arrived estimates that the number of dead will double by the end of
the day tomorrow.”
The camera settled back
on the reporter. “We’ve been told that bulldozers are
expected to arrive in the morning to begin digging out mass graves,
something that is completely unprecedented here in the United States.
When questioned about the legalities of this decision, authorities—”
A scuffle off camera
caught the reporter’s eye and he jerked backward.
The cameraman swung
around and Crash could barely make out the figure of a girl in a
hospital gown. The camera lurched wildly. Crash heard shouts, but in
the chaos, he didn’t understand what was happening.
He leaned as far
forward as he could in his chair and tried to make sense of the jumpy
images on the screen. A bare, dirty foot limping toward the camera.
The reporter shouting, “Someone get a doctor.” The sound
of shoes squeaking against the tile floor.
Finally, the image
settled down and Noah could see the reporter reaching out to the
girl. She was definitely a patient. By the bruise-like rings around
her eyes, it was obvious she was infected. But what was she doing
down there in the morgue?
The cameraman had taken
a spot across the room and his hands were shaking, but at least the
images made sense now. The image zoomed in slightly on the reporter
and the girl.
“It’s okay,
sweetheart,” the reporter said. “We’re going to get
a doctor for you, okay? Now where did you come from?”
The girl, who couldn’t
have been more than twelve or thirteen, reached out as if to take the
man’s hand. Then suddenly, she lunged forward and sunk her
teeth into his forearm. The reporter let out a high-pitched,
terrified scream and tried to yank his arm away from the child. In
his chair, Crash jumped back, startled.
In addition to the
reporter’s scream, the camera picked up a low, rumbling sound.
The man operating the camera must have heard it too, because he swung
around toward the stack of bodies behind him. The moan grew louder.
The cameraman backed
away, then tripped over something and fell to the floor, screaming.
The screen went dark and Crash sucked in an uneven breath. He brought
a trembling hand to his mouth, trying to make sense of what he’d
just seen. What the hell was happening there? Patients attacking
reporters?
Or worse. Dead patients
attacking reporters.
But that wasn’t
possible, right? That was something that happened in movies and video
games, not real life.
Crash took a second to
breathe and calm the beating of his heart.
Then he started the
video again.
The sound of hammering
next door was what finally brought Noah out of his trance. When he
went out to see what was going on, he found one of his neighbors
boarding up all of his windows.
“Mr. Mills?”
Noah asked, crossing the lawn. He squinted in the sunlight. Hours of
staring at the data in his dad’s lab had given him a massive
headache.
“Oh, hey Noah,
you startled me.” Albert Mills was a pretty good neighbor. He
was middle-aged, single, and quite a bit overweight. He kept to
himself, but he was a nice guy who always waved and stopped to say
hi. Noah was surprised to see him up on a ladder, hammering plywood
over the upstairs windows.
“Getting ready
for a hurricane?” Noah joked. Mr. Mills didn’t seem to
get it, and he looked at Noah like he was the dumbest kid on the
block.
“I’m
boarding things up and getting the hell out of here. And I’m
not the only one with that same thought,” he said, waving his
hammer toward the street. “If you and your dad are smart,
you’ll do the same thing.”
Noah followed Mr.
Mills’ gaze and saw that he was right. Several families on the
street were already packing up their cars. He raised his hand to
shield his eyes from the bright morning sun. But where were they all
going? No one on earth was safe from this virus. Couldn’t they
see that?
“Did you hear
about Madelyn Sorrows?”
Noah spun around and
stared back up at Albert Mills. His stomach twisted. “Parrish’s
mom?”
“Yeah.”
Noah shook his head, an
unpleasant fear growing in his stomach. “She’s sick?”
Of course, he already
knew she was sick. He’d seen it with his own eyes. He glanced
over toward Parrish’s house. He never should have let her go to
the hospital alone. And why the hell hadn’t he been over there
to check on her? What if she’d been all alone over there for
days?
“Dead,” Mr.
Mills said, taking another nail from his pocket and hammering it into
the plywood. “From this flu or whatever it is. And there are
more, you know. All around town, people are dropping like flies. The
news this morning said they’re burning bodies in mass graves at
the hospital.”
So the burning had
started here, too. Noah had read the directives that all bodies were
to be destroyed to help prevent the spread of further disease.
Hearing it from his neighbor made it hit home, though. It suddenly
seemed too real. He kicked at the grass with his shoe until a large
clump came up, spraying soft brown dirt into the air.
“Where are you
going to go?” Noah asked.
“West,”
Mills said, climbing down from the ladder. He almost lost his footing
and Noah took a few steps forward, as if he could catch the guy.
Luckily, Mills didn’t fall on top of him. “I figure since
the first cases of this virus were reported on the east coast, west
is the best bet. I don’t think it’s as bad out there.”
Noah opened his mouth
to disagree, but then shut it again. Why not let the man have his
hope, right?
Maybe it was better to
die on the road with hope that you could outrun this thing than to
hole up in your house alone until the end came. Who was he to say?
Besides, he couldn’t
possibly explain everything he’d read over the past twelve
hours. No one would believe him anyway. He still didn’t want to
believe it himself.
“Well, you take
care, man.” Noah said his goodbyes and headed back to his own
house.
He glanced over at
Parrish’s house again and thought about going over to talk to
her. He kind of understood what she was going through. He’d
lost his mother a long time ago, and it wouldn’t be long before
his father was gone too. Maybe she needed someone to talk to just as
much as he did.
But through the door,
he could hear the sound of his father’s coughs echoing through
the house. He rushed inside to take care of his dad, knowing their
days together were numbered.
Karmen was bored. And
completely lonely.
How could Aaron be
dead? She hadn’t heard from her mom since her flight had been
canceled. Were her parents okay? Her brothers? She didn’t even
know what was going on anymore. Out of all her friends, only Kate was
even still responding to text messages. Her mother was sick and her
little brother was dead, but the rest of her family seemed to be
okay.
Karmen kept expecting
this whole thing to blow over and life to go back to normal. Well, as
normal as it could be after so much sickness and death. But how long
could this thing really last, anyway? It had happened so fast that it
only seemed logical it would pass just as quickly. Like a tornado or
something. It comes in, does its damage, and then goes away. There’s
a period of rebuilding and getting back to normal, but eventually,
everything turns out okay.
So when did that
rebuilding part start?
Karmen got off the
couch, tired of watching Buffy reruns. She went up to her parents’
bedroom and fished her mom’s credit card out of her jewelry
box. Shopping always made her feel better. Plus, if she didn’t
get out of this house soon, she was going to go insane. She’d
turned into a slob, eating peanut butter with a spoon and wearing the
same pj’s for three days. She’d actually forced herself
to take a shower and put on some make-up this morning and she wasn’t
going to waste it.
She started down the
stairs, but then turned around and went back into her parents’
bedroom. Since no one was here to tell her no, she might as well make
the most of it.
Karmen went into her
mom’s walk-in closet and stared at the large handbag
collection. With a triumphant smile, she chose a black-patent
Valentino bag with a large bow. She loved this bag and her mom never
even let her so much as touch it. She tossed her black flip-flops to
the side and stepped into a pair of Prada Mary-Janes. Her mom’s
feet were exactly the same size as her own and the shoes fit
perfectly.
She practically bounced
all the way down the stairs. Instead of the keys to her own Toyota,
she grabbed the keys to her mom’s sporty Audi. Her dad had
bought this car as a surprise for her mom this past Christmas. It
only had sixteen hundred miles on it, because her mom had been
babying the darn thing. Well, today, the Audi was going to the mall.
Karmen slid into the
leather bucket seat and closed the door. She breathed in deeply, the
light scent of vanilla combined with new car smell. She gripped the
steering wheel and smiled. This was exactly what she needed today.
Why hadn’t she thought to get out before this? There were
plenty of ways to have fun even if her friends weren’t here to
see it. Besides, she’d probably run into a few people she knew
at the mall. She always did.
And this time she’d
have this super cute bag to show off.
She revved the engine
and hit the button for the garage door. She pulled back onto the
street and squinted at the bright sun. It had been several days since
she left the dark cave of her living room and the sun hurt her eyes.
She opened the glove compartment and reached for her mom’s
cherished Versace sunglasses. Nice.
Karmen put the large
shades over her eyes and took off, her foot heavy on the gas pedal.
It took her about forty
minutes to get to Tysons Galleria. The highway was a mess and she
wished she’d taken the side streets instead. She checked her
watch. It was ten in the morning, so there was no way this was still
rush-hour traffic. Where were all these people going? Most of the
cars looked completely packed, like summer vacation preparation on
crack.
When she finally pulled
in to the mall parking lot, she was surprised to see the place was
almost dead. What the hell?
She parked just outside
the main entrance and walked up toward the double glass doors, dread
growing in her stomach. All she wanted was a few hours where she
could forget all the crap that was going on in the world. She wanted
to take her mom’s credit card and do some serious retail
therapy. But from the looks of the parking lot, she wasn’t sure
the stores were even open. Had they closed down the mall?