Extinct (AM13 Outbreak Series), page 3
I inadvertently suck in a loud breath of shock at this statement. I don’t know why, or where it comes from, after all, this isn’t the first virus rumour I’ve heard inside this camp. I guess I just wasn’t expecting it to be blurted out in the context of suicide, in a conversation that I’m not being very discreet about listening to.
Both girls spin around rapidly to look at me. The taller girl eyes me with the mixture of confidence and disdain that can only have come from being extremely popular in school. I cough fruitlessly, trying to cover up the noise, but my bright red cheeks give me away.
Under their scrutinising gaze I can feel myself reverting back to my shy, introverted self—the one I’ve been trying to escape from forever. These are the sort of girls I dreamed about being friends with back when I was in school. Back then I was a little weird—always writing, wearing geeky clothes before they were fashionable, and never knowing what to say. I didn’t really have any close friends at all and I think it’s safe to say that this social awkwardness transcended into real life—much as I’ve tried to prevent it from doing so.
Before my books took off, I had many part-time jobs to help me survive, which was essential because I chose to live on my own from the age of eighteen. I figured the independence would force me out of my shell. I worked in shops, pubs, offices, to name just a few of my temp positions. Of course, I did make friends during these periods—it’s almost impossible not to befriend the people you work with in customer service positions—but they never outlasted the employment. They were friendships of convenience, people to go out for a few drinks with on a Friday night. It’s sad, but I’ve never really had one close friend, or even a group that I’ve stuck with for ages. Friends have always come and gone, which is why people like these girls still intimidate me.
I try to turn, to walk away quickly, as frustrated tears prick my eyes, but before I can escape, the taller girl speaks again.
“What do you think about that?” Her sharp tone sends my brain into a meltdown.
“I…um…”
“I heard,” she says, moving closer to me, “that there’s been loads of it floating about.” She pauses for dramatic effect. I continue to stand there, dumfounded. “This supposed ‘safe place’ has been full of the virus from the very beginning.”
“But wouldn’t…?” My question dies in my throat, for some reason my body seems unable to express it.
“Wouldn’t what?” She laughs cruelly. “Wouldn’t we have heard about it? What, with those fuckers in charge? Seriously?”
Her friend hangs back, and doesn’t even crack a smile as the tall girl makes a joke at my expense. Her piercing blue eyes are filled with an inordinate amount of worry, which is somehow contagious and now I’m feeling it too—even more so than before.
“Come on, Lily!” the first girl says, clearly getting bored of my unresponsiveness. “Let’s go see what’s going on.” She tugs on her friend’s sleeve, dragging her along whether she wanted to or not.
Although I have absolutely zero intention of doing so, my legs seem to take on a life of their own and I find myself following behind them. The tall girl talks to Lily the entire time, with barely any answer. Neither of them try to include me in their conversation and I don’t actively seek it either, I’m just curious as to what’s going on.
It’s sad to admit—even to myself—but the fact that the tall girl actually went out of her way to speak to me—no matter what situation preceded it—has caused a desperate need deep inside of me to befriend her. That tiny, almost-conversation is the closest thing that I’ve had to human contact for a while now and I really want to cling to the moment.
We quickly arrive near the food court in the campsite to find a scene of utter chaos. Noise erupts from every member of the crowd that’s gathered despite the best intentions of the “police officers” that are attempting to disperse everyone without resorting to too much violence. I wonder if that’s because they are so heavily outnumbered.
The sense of dread that was sitting firmly in the pit of my stomach has burst free and is slowly creeping its way through my veins and freezing all of my organs and limbs. After existing in such a quiet environment for such an extended period of time, this racket feels much more dramatic than I’m sure it really is.
My breaths start to stick in my throat, my heart starts to race emphatically, and my palms start to tingle with fear.
It must be true. There must be a bite. It’s here, AM13 is here!
These words run through my mind over and over. I start to shake my head side to side, trying to convince myself that it can’t be that. It has to be something else, it has to be. I try to figure out another reason why everyone would be so interested in this particular suicide, why there would be so much commotion, but my brain can’t come up with anything.
If the virus is here, if it has been here all along, then everything we’ve been through has been a lie. It’s all been for nothing. Every justification that I’ve given myself for how dreadful it is here, has been crap. We all knew it wasn’t exactly great in this campsite, but the only reason I’m sure any of us felt any support for the people in charge is because we no longer had to deal with the infection. The fact that none of us were at risk from dying every single day from AM13 was the one and only bonus.
And now?
I can’t even wrap my head around what might happen now. There’s no escape from here, this is it. If it is here, we’re all completely and utterly fucked. Where can we go?
The girls I followed here have mingled into the crowd, so I’m standing alone at the back. I look like I’m simply observing the scene in front of me with no emotion whatsoever, I’m playing the swan—all calm and controlled on the outside, but flapping wildly in panic below the surface.
I automatically take a step backwards, wanting to get as far away from everyone as possible. I need peace; I need silence once more to digest what’s happened and what the outcomes might be. I know my mind tends to go to wild places in the spur of terror and I don’t want to allow myself to get too frightened while I’m around other people—some of whom are already pretty terrified themselves.
As I move, I manage to reverse into someone, causing me to spin around quickly, expecting the worst. Expecting to come face-to-face with a fully infected, zombified person. Before I manage to get a glimpse of who it was, the figure has disappeared. I’m intrigued to see someone rushing away from the action in such a manic fashion, so I step to follow them, without even slightly considering the consequences of my actions. Someone moving that quickly can’t be infected, but they could be dangerous.
The first thing I step onto is weirdly squishy, and I recognise the sensation immediately. A notebook—my house has always been absolutely filled with them forever—covering every bit of floor. You know, for notes, first drafts, research, that sort of thing, so I have been stepping on them for years. The person must have dropped this when I knocked into them.
I grab the mahogany, leather-bound book between my fingers and cry out pointlessly—my voice gets lost in the racket of the crowd—before chasing off in the general direction in which I saw the mysterious person vanish. I don’t know who it is, but I do know how gutting it is to lose something you’ve been working on for ages.
I run for a while—well, until I run out of breath, which is much quicker than I’d care to admit—but quickly realise that this is completely pointless because I don’t even know what the person looks like, so even if I saw them again I couldn’t be sure. Instead, I flick a few pages of the book, just trying to see if I can find anything to help locate the owner.
Wait! What was that?
My eye caught onto something…a name. One that I know well. I frantically scrabble back over the pages filled with a variety of different random pieces of information to see if I really did see what I think I saw…
Ruby Eastley.
Why the hell is Ruby written about in here? Are we all mentioned? Is this some kind of Big Brother thing where we’re all being spied on? I read on, desperate to know more.
5. Ruby-Ann Eastley, 22, Waitress/Actress.
5”0’, 52kg, pale blue eyes, long blonde hair.
No existing medical conditions.
Doesn’t seem to have any family left, came here with a group of friends.
She has been here for over a week and is still only showing flu-like symptoms. I haven’t been able to determine if this is AM13 or just influenza, but I have to keep her here, just to be safe. Despite the incessant questions from her that I cannot answer, she is tired and woozy, but this doesn’t determine either way. I want to keep an eye on this one because I think if she does transition, she will be very interesting to watch. No damage to her body as yet—will continue to report if things change.
My heart starts to thump painfully in my chest. If I thought I was frightened before, now I’m fucking petrified! My gut is telling me that I’ve stumbled across something huge, something important, and I have no idea what to do about it.
Ruby wasn’t infected. I’m absolutely positive of that. She definitely wasn’t bitten when we arrived at the airport, so why would they suspect that she would have AM13 whilst we’re here? It doesn’t make any sense.
It says she was here with friends—maybe that means she was still with the others before…well, whatever happened that caused her to be thought of as a threat. I wonder where the “here” mentioned in this book is. I should certainly try to find the others to see if they know anything.
I scan the area, to see if anyone has spotted me with this book. I can feel my brain going fuzzy with all the thoughts rushing through it at once. I just don’t know what to do for the best. This has to be vital to the people running this place, so is it really worth risking my life for? If they find me with it, they’ll kill me, I’m sure.
I internally decide to save my own life and hand it in. I feel positive about my decision, determined to do the right thing and follow it through, so, I really cannot understand how I manage to find myself back at my tent, shoving the book underneath my sleeping bag and planning to read it later.
My mouth has run dry with my rebellion. I’m absolutely certain that it’s going to get me in more trouble than I can even begin to imagine, but I can’t stop the need inside me to find out everything that’s in this book. I’ve never done anything wrong before, never in my entire life.
Well, okay, I did steal a pack of fruit pastilles for a dare when I was about ten years old, but that was it. Even then, I felt so bad that I ended up discreetly putting them back on the shelf the very next day and I hadn’t even been seen or anything—I would’ve easily gotten away with it.
I can just feel deep inside myself that this changes absolutely everything. That’s the one thing that’s motivating me to risk my own life—this is bigger than me, I just know it. It’s not like I’m looking out to use this information to be a hero or anything—that just isn’t me. I can’t explain it, I just need to know and I cannot pass up the opportunity to find out the truth.
If I hand in this book now, return it to the people that I have even less trust in now than before, I give up the chance of finding out anything ever. I can’t do that. I just can’t.
CHAPTER FOUR
I lie still for a while, just listening to the sound of my breaths slowing as I start to calm. I can’t hear anything going on outside and that’s making the tension inside me start to wind down. So far no one has burst into my tent to threaten me or kill me and I’m choosing to take that as a good sign.
Tick, tick, tick…
The second hand on my watch ticks loudly, and it actually feels soothing. As more time passes, the safer I assume I am.
Everyone must still be over by the food court, watching the events unfold there. The fear and curiosity about that is still coursing through me, but the opportunity to find out more is overpowering it entirely.
I’m just waiting for the right moment to open the book and discover all of the secrets it holds. As it comes closer, the fear mingles with excitement and sick rises up inside of me.
Tick, tick, tick…
I start to feel like my watch is taunting me, tempting me, telling me to hurry up and get on with it and I desperately want to give in.
My fingers trace the outline of the book while my brain considers what I might find. I know it’s unlikely to be good; after all, what I read about Ruby wasn’t exactly reassuring.
“I haven’t been able to determine if this is AM13 or just influenza.”
She wasn’t infected, she really wasn’t. If it did turn out to be flu then fair enough, but I don’t trust anything enough to assume the best.
“I have to keep her here, just to be safe.”
Where did they take her? I should have known, I should have been with her. I was such an idiot to allow myself to drift away from Ruby when we got here.
Someone must know, though. Someone will, I can be reassured of that.
As these thoughts run through my brain, my hand drifts under the sleeping bag. I need to read more now, it can’t wait, I need to find out exactly what happened to Ruby, I want the end of the story. I certainly don’t want it to be left as a mystery.
Just as I’m about to pull the book towards me and open Pandora’s box of secrets…
“Hey!” a loud, brash, familiar voice rings out, bursting through the flaps of my tent, causing me to jump out of my skin. “Hey you—I can’t remember what your name is—did you see that?”
I drag my hand away from the book as if it’s been burnt as her face comes into view. The tall girl, the one I followed over to the chaos before is clearly coming in to talk to me whether I like it or not. In a fit of panic, desperate for the girl not to discover the book, I push my way outside so we can have the conversation she is clearly desperate to have. This bizarre action may seem rude but I cannot risk anyone going inside right now. I move away from my tent, wanting to create some distance, and luckily she follows me.
“Did you see it?” she repeats, clearly too excited to notice how weird I’m acting. I glance over to her friend—Lily—who has gone even whiter than she was before. “Did you see the bite? It was huge!”
“G-Georgina.” I finally manage to stutter out a coherent word at the girl’s revelation, but unfortunately it makes no sense to the actual conversation. “Er…my name, I mean. Well, everyone calls me Georgie.” I can feel the heat spreading across my cheeks, which is ridiculous. I’ve just been told that the virus is here and I’m feeling embarrassed about saying something so silly, so insignificant. Where the hell are my priorities? If I can’t turn off being shy now, then there’s no hope for me ever!
“Oh.” The girl looks a little confused, and I can hardly blame her. “Well, I’m Jasmine and this is Lily,” she rushes out, obviously annoyed at the change of topic. “That was crazy…”
She continues to talk, but I start to block her out as I stare at Lily. She’s clearly absolutely petrified—for obvious reasons—but it seems to be so much more than that. I try to work her out a little, figure out what’s going on in her mind, but she’s so closed off. I want to talk to her, to try to coax her out of her shell a bit, to get to know her and what’s going on inside her brain, but even if I was good at that sort of thing, Jasmine just doesn’t stop talking!
“What do you think they’ll do?” Her question is loud, causing my attention to snap back towards her. “When the virus is full on over here?”
I widen my eyes at the real thought of that. Now that we’ve all—well, everyone except me—seen proof that AM13 is here, they can’t sit back and carry on as normal. Act like it doesn’t exist out here. It makes me think that every single rumour about the virus has been true—and if I’m feeling that way, it stands to reason that other people will be too.
“Are you sure it was—”
“Didn’t you see it?” Jasmine screeches, interrupting me. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you missed it. It was one hundred percent an infected bite. I told you it was here, it’s been here all along…”
I don’t even try and argue this time, from what I’ve seen, she’s probably right.
“…and soon it’s gonna get out of control yet again. We should all pack up now because I’m pretty sure we’ll be moving again. Probably today!”
“But where are we going to go?” I whisper, suddenly really afraid of what could happen next. The fear of the unknown is just as terrifying as the thought of staying put here.
“Well, we’ve been told all along that they’re making the UK safe again,” Jasmine sneers. “But since that’s unlikely, we’ll probably just go onto the next ‘safe place.’” She leans closer to me, as if she’s sharing a secret with me. “I heard Russia managed to completely avoid the virus completely.”
“That can’t be true,” I quickly snap back.
“Why not? If they knew about its arrival—if you know what I mean—then they could have completely protected themselves from it.”
“Are you suggesting…?”
“Yep! Biological weapon.”
I can’t stop myself from laughing—possibly from fear, possibly from relief at finally having someone to talk to again—and before long; we’re sitting in the dried grass, discussing all of the stories we’ve heard about where the virus has come from, and how the rest of the world is coping with it, each theory more ludicrous than the last.
I even forget my usual self-deprecating nature for a split second, and tell her about my books. Normally I’m too shy to mention them to anyone, and if I’m ever recognised for my writing, I get horrendously embarrassed. I only bring them up now because Jasmine mentions a theory she heard a while back, that the virus was created completely by accident in a virology laboratory—which is exactly how it happened in Exile—the first book in the Undead Virus series.
Even though she hasn’t read the books, she was surprisingly impressed. She even promised to read them when all of this is over.
