Lockdown (AM13 Outbreak Series) (14 page)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

Twenty-Six

 

 

Infected. Everywhere I look. But I don’t panic; it isn’t like they can get to me. They’re all in cages, like lab rats.

When my senses start to return, all I want to do is run, fast. I want to get as far away from here as possible and to try and forget I ever laid eyes on this place. I don’t, though, because the larger part of me needs to know what the hell is going on here. It must be the news researcher in me—maybe I was more destined for that job than I first believed. My fingertips are tingling, my whole body fizzing with anticipation. This place is important, I can just
feel
it. Maybe it’s a testing centre, to try and find a cure. Or maybe it’s where the virus was created, where this chaos all began. I remember hearing that AM13 started in Mexico somewhere, but that might not be true. Someone could have leaked that information to divert attention away from the real story, or someone could have made it up. No one knew anything about the virus, so who knows what’s the truth?

I wander around the room, without even feeling my feet touch the ground. I can sense the eyes of the infected boring into me as if I’m the forbidden fruit—something that they’re desperate to consume, but can’t. A couple of them try to reach for me, snarling and snapping as their rotting arms flail in my direction. But most of them are in too much of a horrid state to even move.

I can’t help but examine the ones that are so thin; they’re not a lot more than bones. My eyes keep fixating on the ones that don’t have all their body parts—it’s as if I’m fascinated by how revolting they are. These used to be people. They used to have a rich history, lives, loves…now they’ve been reduced to
this
. Rotting away, festering in a filthy cage. It’s difficult to swallow.

As I look at each one, I wonder if they were bitten, or given the infection in this weird lab. It’s disgusting enough to look like something as awful as this could happen here. No wonder the Government jumped on the idea of the Lockdown—assuming they knew about this place, of course. If it had ever been discovered, there would have been crazy riots.

I feel sick to my stomach, but more than that I feel incredibly sad. These things might be cannibalistic monsters now, but they used to be ordinary people. They used to be just like myself, Jake, and Michelle. This could be any one of us in here. The worst thing is they have been spared the right to a dignified death. Something made them this way, they didn’t choose it. And now, rather than killing them and putting them out of their misery, they’re stuck in this state, trapped in cages—miserable and alone.

No one deserves this. No one.

I turn to leave. I can’t even
think
about staying anywhere near this place. This is what hell must look like, and I don’t want any part of it. I wish I was brave enough to do the right thing, but even with the gun clasped tightly between my white, strained knuckles, I’m not.

As I reach the door, eager to get some fresh air in my lungs, I hear a voice. A real, human voice. I shake my head, trying to rid the sound from my brain. I’m clearly hearing things—all the humans here are now those
things
, and if there was someone alive, then they’d likely work here. That’s the type of person that would sooner put a bullet in my head than speak to me. Just
one
person knowing about this hell puts it at risk of being exposed.

“Hey!” the panicked, garbled voice yells out again.

I spin around—just to check. The voice sounds just like Jake, and even though I know that’s impossible because he’s gone, it’s too hard to ignore.

“Hey, lady. Turn around, help me, please.” The voice carries on speaking, becoming increasingly insistent. My heart is fluttering along with the butterflies in my stomach as I scan the room. The unease trickles through my veins and spreads all over my body, continuing to consume me, until I spot him. He’s right at the back of the room, partially hidden by other cages. His arm is waving frantically, proving to me that, while he’s just as trapped as the other infected, he’s also very much alive.

I race over to him, excited that I can actually find out the truth about this place. As much as I really want to get out of here, if I
can
discover more, then I absolutely will. As I reach his side, it strikes me that he
is
caged, which means he must be at some stage of the infection. It may be recent, but I still need to be really careful.

“Erm…hi?” I eventually whisper to him. As I gaze into his eyes, I can clearly see that he’s desperately pleading with me. His face is so human, so full of life. I allow my stare to drop down, covering his whole body, and I can’t instantly spot any bites, but I’m still not convinced that he isn’t infected.

He starts talking quickly, without taking a break to breathe. It’s as if he thinks a conversation will prevent me leaving. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad to see you, to see a friendly face. I’m so afraid, this is awful! I’ve been here for such a long time. I mean, it wasn’t just me, not at first. I was with three other people, but when we got caught, they all got killed on sight.” I raise my eyebrow at him, feeling oddly suspicious. “I was bundled into a van and bought here and I’ve been here for a few weeks, I’m not exactly sure how long and…”

“Why weren’t
you
killed?” I can’t help but interrupt; something about his story doesn’t quite add up. I don’t know if it’s just because he’s talking so quickly, trying to piece his entire story together, or if it’s something more.

“I don’t know why, I’ve been asking myself that question ever since I got here. I’ve been asking the scientists that work here that question, but no one will talk to me. They treat me as if I don’t even exist.” He looks down at the ground, beneath his crouched, uncomfortable-looking body. “Maybe I’m just a test subject.”

I nod for a few seconds, allowing that to sink in. It’s one thing to think that, but to hear it is something else entirely. “For what?” I finally whisper. “What do you think you’re a test subject for?” I’m hoping he may have overheard something.

“I really don’t know. I
hope
they’re looking for a cure.” He smiles weakly at me; the anxiety in his eyes is evident. He is silent for a few moments before he really starts begging. “Please,
please
help me. Please let me out of here, I’m going crazy. This is a nightmare; they’re going to end up killing me.” I stay silent, still unsure. Something in my gut is telling me this is all wrong. “I’ll do
anything
for you, I promise. I’ll take you to wherever you’re going. I’ll help you get food and water, whatever you want. Please. I can’t stand this uncertainty, the waiting. I’m going insane. I just want my freedom back. You have to understand. Please? Have some humanity.”

I really don’t know what to do. I have no idea who this man is, or what he’s capable of. I also don’t know for sure that he doesn’t have the virus. Plus, the thought of another man accompanying me feels like an odd betrayal to Jake’s memory, which is a strange reaction I didn’t expect to feel. But the thought of company, of someone else to rely on, someone to help me, to protect me…it feels like the best offer I’ve ever heard. I’ve only been a few hours alone, and I’m already struggling terribly.

Plus, it
would
be inhumane to leave him here, wouldn’t it?

The man sits very still and silently, while I consider all the options before making my decision. He can see the confusion in my eyes. He must be able to see me wavering, and he seems to understand why—for which I’m really grateful.

Time passes while I think, struggling.

It’s his silence that in the end makes the decision easy. He doesn’t pressure me, continuing to beg until I can think no more. He actually respects my fears about him.

“Yes,” I whisper, watching as his eyes light up. “You can come with me,
but
you must do exactly as I say at all times.” I want to regain some control over the situation, just in case. I’m going against my instincts here, and I’m extremely aware that I need to be as cautious as possible.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank y—”

I hold my hand up to silence him. “I need to get out of this hell hole now, it’s driving me nuts. I just…I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I understand.” He nods, before instructing me on how to release him. “It’s all activated by that set of switches over there.” My eyes follow where he’s pointing, all the time worrying that I’m doing the wrong thing. “Normally, it’s controlled by fingerprints, but it can be overridden by a key, which is kept in the second drawer down on the desk.”

I’m impressed by his observations. He’s
really
kept an eye on what’s been going on around him. He’s either extremely thorough or he’s been waiting for someone like me to come along. Once the key is in my shaking hand, I move carefully. One false move and I fear everything in sight will be free. I can’t stop my eyes from nervously flicking around the room.

As I’m unlocking the system, I concentrate hard. The guy constantly talks, getting on my nerves, but I put it down to his anxiety. This must be a stressful situation for him too. Despite all that he says, I only pick up his name—Mike. The rest is nothing more than a buzzing distraction.

Finally, I’ve done it.

Red lights flash. Alarms sound. Panic. Fear. What have I done? This must be bad,
really
bad. I can hear a screaming noise, but I can’t work out where it’s coming from. I look around, quickly noticing that all the cages are opening.
They
are coming out. This is it. Oh my God, I need to run. I can’t hang about anymore; I
have
to get out of here.

It’s then I notice the screams are coming from me.

Time stands still. Everything has been so quiet for days, so the loud alarm noise feels like an intrusion on my brain, my thoughts. I can’t get myself together enough to do something to stop it.

I turn and run towards Mike. My plan was to rescue him and that’s what I need to do. Then I realise I don’t even know this guy, I can’t worry too much about him. Loyalties forgotten, I move towards getting the hell out of there. I grab my bag and get to the door in a speedy blur.

The gun
! I suddenly remember the gun. I placed it down before unlocking the cages and in all the drama, I forgot to pick it up. I look back to see my chances of retrieving it, but there’s no hope. The infected are everywhere now, filling the building and shambling towards me. I need to push it to the back of my mind and forget about it. I need to move right now!

I yank on the door, and just as I’m about to hotfoot out of there, I feel the unmistakable, rushing, hot poker pain of teeth clamping down on my shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

 

 

I instantly stop fighting, stop running, my fate already accepted. I knew this journey would come down to this the second Michelle vanished. I just
knew
there was no chance of this having a happy ending for any of us.

Now that I’ve reached my ending, I almost feel a sense of relief. I no longer have to feel that overwhelming guilt because I’m the last survivor. I don’t have to pretend to be brave anymore, I can admit to myself how truly afraid I’ve been all along. I may not have hid my fears well, but I’ve been doing my best. That’s all over now. I don’t have to go on fighting this exhaustion, this pain that’s radiating through my body; I can finally succumb to it.

I’m so hot; sweat must be dripping from literally everywhere. My head feels funny—almost like my brain is starting to shut down already. My body already feels like it’s no longer mine.

If only we hadn’t started this mission, if only we’d stayed in and worked like good little employees, if only we’d not thought that this was something we could do. If only…

I’m distracted from my thought pattern by the cold, fresh air slapping me in my face. Mike has pulled me outside, and he’s still tugging on my arm now. “But you shouldn’t, you can’t…” I try to explain; I try to tell him that he needs to get as far away from me as possible. I’m part of the problem now. I was willing to leave him, now it’s his turn to go. “You need to leave…”

He completely ignores me. I try to convey that I’m tainted, infected. I want him to know that if he stays with me, he’ll be forced to kill me before I murder him. But it’s as if he wants to remain oblivious.

In the end, I give up fighting and simply run with the motion. Even though I know Mike shouldn’t be near me, I need to get him away from all of
them
more. I still have enough of myself not to attack—they don’t. And right now, they’re coming. It’s as if I can sense them and the sensation makes my skin crawl and my throat constrict. The alarms and commotion will attract more of them as well; soon there’ll be no escape. Then he’ll have no hope of getting away from this unscathed. He isn’t doomed yet, and there’s no reason for him to be. I’ll just force him to leave when we get somewhere safe, to ensure that he remains alive.

I can’t breathe. My legs are killing me. We’ve been running for absolutely ages, and I don’t know how much longer I can carry on. I want to stop, but I can’t. I need to save Mike, and if I stop, he will too. After all the damage I’ve caused everyone else—including myself—this can be my one redeeming act before I’m gone. God, I’m dreading becoming like that. A shuffling, moaning cannibal. I feel sick at the idea of being one of
them
. The last thing I want to do is kill and eat anyone, but soon I may have no choice. I
really
wish I still had the gun, then I could kill myself before I have the chance to do any real damage. I don’t have full confidence that I would be brave enough to pull that trigger, but the option would be nice.

The bite hurts like hell—it’s the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. I keep thinking that it may be easing off a little, but I’m not fully convinced. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I
want
the pain to subside, because that might be the start of me losing myself.

When we eventually feel safe enough to stop, I fall to the ground, devastated. I want to cry, but the tears don’t come. Instead I repeat the word
“no, no, no
” over and over again, feeling the shock wearing off, and reality finally hitting.

Mike interrupts my thoughts. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” I point to my shoulder and he pulls my top to one side to have a look. “Ooh, that looks nasty. Do you have anything in your bag to help it? A first aid kit or something?” He pulls away from me to rummage through my backpack.

The tears give up and finally roll down my cheeks at this moment. “I’m so stupid. How could I have let myself get bitten? In that creep show circus, of all places. I can’t believe I got so far, just to fail there…” I try to gulp down the sobs, but they burst free anyway.

“Wait, what do you mean?” I look up at Mike’s confused face. “It isn’t a bite on your shoulder, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just a cut. I don’t know how you did it, it was all pretty chaotic.” He laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to turn into one of those freaks. You’ll be fine; we just need to get it dressed.”

“Huh?” I whisper. I don’t understand, I
felt
the teeth. I’m absolutely convinced that I was being bit. But maybe I was wrong. Is that possible? I’m so tired and confused and I’ve been through so damn much, it could just be my mind getting things mixed up. “Are you sure?”

I watch his face carefully as he nods as a reply.

I sink deep into my thoughts. I just can’t get my head around the fact that I’m not going to die, after all. I try to process that as Mike dresses the wound the best that he can with the minimal supplies I have left. I’m just not entirely convinced by Mike, there’s something about him that doesn’t feel
right
. That’s why I don’t fully know if I can trust his words.

I’m too tired to make an informed decision. There’s no
way
I’ll be able to line up the pros and cons of his presence in my life tonight, so when he suggests that we find somewhere sheltered to rest, my weary body agrees. I
need
to sleep, I need to sleep so badly that I might just do it right here in the midst of danger.

In the end, we hunker down under a hedge by the road, far away from those evil woods. It’s definitely not ideal, but as soon as my head touches the cold, hard ground, I’ve already blacked out.

 

***

 

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Mike. He’s stood over me, as if he’s been watching me sleep. I sit up quickly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. That’s the creepiest way I’ve ever woken up in my life, and it doesn’t bode well for the day ahead.

All I can focus on are his deep, dark eyes. Right now, they feel like the eyes of a killer boring into me.

“I hope you slept well!” He has a jolly undertone in his voice, but all I can focus on is the desperate need to get away from him that’s gnawing away at me.

It hasn’t escaped my notice that the person I now want to escape is primarily here because I didn’t want to be alone any longer. I’m not sure what it
is
about him; I guess after all I’ve been through I just don’t trust the unknown. This guy could be some kind of weirdo, a pervert, a rapist, or a serial killer for all I know. We all know terrible situations like this can bring the worst out in people. This isn’t like Jake and Michelle; Mike is a complete stranger to me, and it’s something that I’m particularly struggling with.

“Let me carry your things.” He smiles, picking up my bag.

I agree because my shoulder is still in agony, but a small voice in the back of my mind screams at me that this is a mistake—that he wants me to be dependent on him so I can’t go off by myself. I try to ignore these paranoid thoughts and the feelings of unease, because they aren’t grounded in any facts. I need to just let go of my reservations for the time being until he proves himself untrustworthy. I need to stay. After all, it’s him or nothing.

“Where are we going?” he asks, showing that he intends to keep his promise. Even though the rescue went wrong, he
did
say he would help me if I set him free, and it seems that he intends to honour that.

I point silently towards the direction of home, and we instantly start to move. We walk for hours, me slightly behind me, just listening to him talk. I occasionally chip in with an “hmmm” or “yeah” just to keep the conversation flowing. All the while, my mind is constantly whirring with potential ideas, just in case things
do
go wrong. I don’t want to get caught out by something silly. I already almost died once, there’s no need for it to happen again. If I remain smart in the company of this guy, then things should turn out alright.

I just
need
to get home now. That’s what this journey has been about all along, and I won’t feel fully safe until I’m back with my family. I wonder how they’re all doing. I wonder if they know that I’ve left the office, that I’ve defied the Lockdown and that I’m out amongst all of
this
. They could have easily found out the truth if they rang the office—which they may well have done after discovering my mobile phone has been out of battery for a while. I wonder what Jamie will have told them. He may have even told them that I’m no longer alive…it’s very likely that’s what he believes.

I hope they forgive me for putting them through all of this worry when they do see me, especially Felix. I promised him I’d keep in touch and I’ve let him down miserably. Will they be furious when they find out how many times I almost died—how many people
did
die on this mission—or will they just be grateful that I’m okay? I’d like to think the latter, but realistically they would be well within their rights to feel either way.

I suddenly notice that I’ve been scratching my injured shoulder like crazy, which fills me with a sense of dread. Cuts don’t feel this itchy unless they’re infected, surely? I’ve been so worried I was given AM13 I didn’t even give any
thought
to the possibility that it could be something else. Not knowing what caused the wound is an issue. It means I can’t make any assumptions—not that I know a lot about lesions.

It would just be typical of my muddled life that in the middle of the worst infection known to mankind, I’d be the one to die of an illness that’s been around for centuries, and in normal circumstances would be easily treatable!

No, I need to stop thinking like that. All I need to do is stop scratching.

 

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