Lockdown (AM13 Outbreak Series) (7 page)

Chapter

Twelve

I huff as I toss my case onto my tiny temporary bed. Despite the fact that I’m certain this won’t be for very long, I still feel disheartened. If I’m not impressed, I can just imagine how pissed off everyone else is about having to live in such cramped conditions with absolutely no real privacy for a fortnight. I know we all go out for drinks occasionally after work, but we aren’t really close. Not close enough to get through this without tensions running high, at any rate.

This is going to suck.

I wander into the corridor and spot Jake almost immediately. He’s staring down at his phone, giving me a bit of time to really drink in his appearance. He looks different…ill almost. I chuckle to myself, wondering how long he’s avoided going to the doctor, just in case. I’m a little surprised Jamie hasn’t sent him—seeing as how involved in this virus he is.

I almost walk over to talk to him, but think better of it at the last minute. I’ve avoided him for such a long time now, there’s no way I can speak to him without it being a little awkward. So much has changed since we kissed; it’s almost as if it never happened. I guess it’ll just turn into one of those things that neither of us mentions ever again.

I expect the work day to have a different feel about it, but actually everyone seems to carry on as normal—taking it all in their stride. Even I start to feel a little more relaxed. Until lunch time, that is.

The chairs that are normally spread over the canteen are cramped over by the windows. While everyone else spreads around the room, I choose to sit there and look at the outside world. I can only see a little bit of one of the main streets, but even from here I can see a number of people wandering around as if the Lockdown wasn’t happening.

“Typical,” I mutter, supposedly to myself, but I obviously say it louder than I intended, because everyone turns to look at me. Instead of shutting up, for once I actually speak out. “I just
knew
the Lockdown wasn’t going to work. We’re obviously the only ones following it, just look outside. Oh, there’s even a woman with a pram and a toddler—she’s so unconcerned she has her children out with her!”

Everyone rushes over to see what I’m talking about, and a massive debate breaks out. It seems that one of the most vital pieces of information—the
time
the Lockdown begins—has not been clarified. Some people are saying it’s six p.m., some are saying midnight.
I
was under the impression it had already happened, but then again, I haven’t exactly been giving it my full attention.

As far as I’m concerned, this highlights the biggest issue. Sure, the virus stuff is all rubbish, but what’s worse is the way it’s been handled. It’s all been steamrolled far too quickly with too many changes and not enough information. It’s almost been done in a panic, and it seems as if they’ve gone to the final extreme measures without taking the small steps first. There have been too many mistakes in the past with health scares and the way this is going, it’ll end up the biggest one yet.

A rage builds up inside of me, growing increasingly as people talk around me. Everything I’ve been thinking bubbles to the surface to the point where it feels like my chest is going to explode. If I don’t speak now, I think I’ll self-combust.

I push past everyone and storm into Jamie’s office, allowing the red mist to consume me. “This is just—” I start, not really knowing where I’m going with this. “I just—I don’t know what to say, Jamie. There’s
so
much wrong with all of this. You
must
be able to see that…” I’m panting, practically breathless, and I haven’t even really said anything yet!

Just as I feel myself about to go into a full rant, Jamie interrupts me. “You need to remember, Leah, that we’re only in charge of relaying the information. The plans aren’t mine. I know it’s difficult when things aren’t clear, but you have to remember, this
is
going to save lives. No matter what happens, if you keep that in mind then the rest won’t bother you as much.”

I roll my eyes at his ridiculous words. I just can’t even start to tolerate Jamie’s weird belief in zombies today, so I just turn and walk out without saying another word.

***

As the day turns into evening, I can’t help but notice there are
still
people outside. I seethe under the surface, but remain stoic for the purposes of everyone else. The others all slowly finish their work and wander off to the canteen for the first night of the Lockdown, laughing and chattering as they go. They seem to be in high spirits for now, but I know that won’t last forever.

I stay at my desk, my head resting in my hands, not ready to face the night just yet. I just want a moment to myself. I don’t actually move until a voice forces me to.

“Hey.” Michelle sits down next to me, a lit cigarette in her hand. Before I can say anything about this, she laughs loudly. “If we aren’t allowed outside they can hardly keep up the smoking ban, can they?”

I smile weakly as a reply. I know she’s trying to cheer me up, but I feel like I’m too far gone for that.

“Don’t leave without me.” She leans in closer, her expression now deadly serious. “I know you want to go. I can see it in your face. If you do, I’ll go with you.”

I screw my face up in confusion. Sure, I was thinking about leaving afterwards, but I hadn’t really considered going now. I mean, is that even possible? It’ll have to be a proper fugitive-style breakout if we do. Plus, with the Lockdown, it’ll be impossible to be discreet. I stare at her, waiting for her to laugh and tell me she’s joking, but she doesn’t.

“I haven’t…” I start, but somehow can’t quite finish the sentence. There might be a time when I
do
want to leave. Who knows what’s going to happen whilst we’re here—something might crop up that makes getting the hell out of this place more important than keeping my job. Instead of vocalising all of the arguments spinning around in my brain, I gulp, nod, and shrug all at the same time.

“Come on.” She stands up, tugging on my arm. “Let’s find somewhere to drink this.” She pulls a small bottle of vodka out of her pocket. “Let’s get away from the others—they’re all driving me mental!” I’m sure this last part is more for me than her, for which I’m extremely grateful.

We sneak out to the small smoking area outside—a place Michelle could have
easily
had her cigarette; clearly that was a mini-protest of sorts. Jamie can’t be angry at us coming here. It’s still behind the walls, so technically we’re still at work, but it feels a little like we have some freedom too. Luckily none of the others have had the same idea as us, allowing us the privacy I desire so badly.

We spend the rest of the evening growing increasingly tipsy on screwdrivers—which seem to get stronger as the night wears on. As I start to feel a little drunk, Michelle brings up the prospect of leaving once more. This time the conversation is more lighthearted. She talks about the epic escape and what she wants to do when she’s finally free, as if she’s been locked up for years. I don’t know if it’s the effects of the alcohol, or if something has been unlocked from deep inside of me, but even as I laugh at Michelle, I can’t help but think that leaving is a good idea.

Even as I drink, I know I’m going to regret the alcohol tomorrow, but right here in this moment, it feels so good to laugh and joke with the
one
person I know will be there for me no matter what. Even if everyone else blames me and hates me, I know she doesn’t. She might be the only friend I have left at the end of this, but at least she’s a good one! I do love Michelle.

Chapter

Thirteen

The next morning is simply awful. If I wasn’t already here, I’d definitely be phoning in sick. This hangover is intense—my head is throbbing, I feel nauseated, and my throat is unbearably dry. It doesn’t help that I couldn’t sleep very well, surrounded by so many other people, so I’m exhausted too. It just felt a little…weird.

To make it worse, Jamie is being unnecessarily over the top today, insisting that we need to work harder than ever to ensure the Lockdown all goes according to plan. I think he’s a little gutted that things were so confusing and rocky yesterday—although how he could be expecting anything else, I’m not sure.

Before heading over to my desk, I quickly scan my eyes through the window. I don’t instantly see people outside, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. We’re in an awkward position here, not knowing anything that’s going on.

The enthusiasm from everyone else is not evident today. Everyone seems to be working on autopilot, whilst desperately sipping hot drinks as if their lives depend on the caffeine. Gone are the smart, pristine suits that you normally see in this office. Instead, there are a lot of sweatpants and hoodies. Some of the girls haven’t even bothered with makeup—myself included. It’s like an extreme version of Casual Friday.

I half wonder if Michelle and I aren’t the only ones with hangovers. It makes sense that she wouldn’t have been the only one to bring booze with her. In fact, the only person who doesn’t look like his bad mood and ill feeling has come from a late night of drinking and fun is Jake. He looks truly terrible.

I start with all of the usual social media checks, expecting to find all of the usual nonsense—maybe with a few complaints about the Lockdown thrown in for good measure. Instead I’m faced with links to what the national newspapers are saying. It only takes a couple of clicks to realise this is bad news for us.

‘Biggest Disaster in UK History’

‘What Was This Supposed To Achieve?’

‘Has No One Heard Of AM13?’

The headlines all scream out at me, each one sending a stab of guilt into my heart. I know this isn’t
really
, totally my fault—I may have set this thing in motion, but I never made any of the decisions. Still, I can’t stop the weight of responsibility from resting heavily on my shoulders.

This is just the beginning. Soon, the complaints about wasted taxes will be raised. Then, the questions will come about where this came from and how it came to be this giant nightmare. It’ll all close in on me, I can feel it. I’m on the brink of becoming Britain’s most hated woman. I’m going to have to move to another country.

Oh God.

On the brink of panic, I push my chair back, ready to rush to the toilets to have my meltdown in peace, but I’m distracted by the fact that every other person is crowded around one computer. None of them look like their lives are bursting at the seams, which baffles me. The negativity that’ll come from these news reports affects them too.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I abandon my initial plan and be nosy instead. As I near the crowd, I start to hear snippets of conversation. It seems that Aaron—one of the tech guys—has found a video of a virus victim that was filmed in the early hours of yesterday morning in England—at Heathrow airport in London, to be precise.

They have it playing over and over again on a loop, so I get to watch it a couple of times. Admittedly, it’s the most realistic one I’ve seen. The ‘infected’ guy looks more human than the rest of the clips I’ve trawled through. Whoever created this strain of the hoax has actually put some effort in to make the actors look realistic. The background screaming is good too—people genuinely sound terrified. Of course, this one is also shot on a shaky handheld camera or mobile phone, but somehow it manages to make that work to its advantage. Somehow it makes it more believable.

“Settle down, everyone.” Jamie’s voice instantly silences everyone. We all turn to face him. His expression is stern and grave. “This UK video follows the daily report I was sent this morning. The airport was in the process of closing when this infected man started to attack. He’s been taken to the nearest specialised medical facility, along with two others who have skin abrasions. We can’t report this yet as the police don’t want to cause any unnecessary panic, but we
will
as soon as we’re given the go-ahead.” He sighs deeply, looking around at us all. “Some of you feared that the Lockdown might be happening too soon. This proves that to be incorrect. Unfortunately, not all lives can be saved, but at least we know now that most people will be. Of course,
we
can’t report about this attack, but as you’ve seen someone from the site has released the footage online. If people see this, then it’ll serve as a warning to them all. If there
are
still people ignoring the Lockdown rules, then hopefully this will stop them.”

Agreeable noises surround me. Clearly people don’t want to see the negativity surrounding all of this. They’d rather focus on the positives, the factors that prove we’re doing the right thing. I wish I could see it that way too. Maybe if I wasn’t so deeply linked to the story, I’d be able to. If it had been someone else to send that initial video to Jamie, maybe my mindset would be somewhere else entirely.

If only…

***

I barely sleep again that night. This time it’s different, though. It has nothing to do with everyone else, and everything to do with me. My brain just
won’t
switch off, no matter what I do. As the worry consumes me, I miss the numbness. I thought that was terrible, but it’s preferable to this. Having anxiety about something you can literally do nothing about is dire.

Before it’s even light, I step out of bed. Lying down restlessly is achieving nothing, so I’d rather chill out by myself for a while with a cup of coffee in hand. I plod across the canteen quietly, listening jealously to all of the random bursts of snoring. I’m too tired to even get annoyed.

As the kettle boils, I idly glance out of the window. I stop in my tracks and move to get a closer look. There’s a lone, dishevelled woman walking past the wall. She’s in a seriously bad way—her clothes are all torn and bloody, her hair is matted with grime, and she has a massive gushing gash on her leg. Something dreadful has happened to her, that much is clear. The awful possibilities race through my mind, sending me into a tailspin.

I bang on the window to let her know I’m there and cry out for someone to call an ambulance. I’m desperate to do something to help her, but she doesn’t even acknowledge me. It’s as if she’s crazy, comatose, like she’s sleepwalking or something. Maybe the loss of blood has sent her into a state of delirium.

Not knowing what other option I have, I turn to race outside. I can’t just stand here and leave her to die of her injuries. I’d never be able to forgive myself! But just as I’m about to rush out of the room, a feeling of unease spreads over me and stops me dead on the spot. I flick my gaze back out to the road and a cold chill comes over me. Now she’s looking this way and I can see her face fully. Her jaw has disconnected and is hanging down from her face and in her hand is a severed human arm.