Extinct (AM13 Outbreak Series), page 4
Well, she said, “I’ll check them out when we get home…” She throws her hands over her mouth and laughs, as if the idea of resuming normal life was utterly absurd. I can’t deny that her reaction did affect me. I want to go back home so badly, that witnessing someone totally give up on that dream is hard.
Now we’re just waiting to be told to pack up our things, we’re passing the time until we have to go—but no announcement ever comes and eventually everyone around us retires to their own tents, assuming that the plans will be made the following day. No one bothers to riot or complain this time; everyone just wants a solution to come about sooner rather than later.
The back of my mind is continually buzzing with the book that’s still sat inside my tent, but right now I’m actually laughing and having a bit of fun, and for some reason I can’t drag myself away.
I mean, I could. I could quite easily make up some excuse and get back to what I was so desperate to do before, but I guess I don’t really want to…
***
It isn’t until a lot later on that I finally return to my tent—after Jasmine breaks up the party by insisting that she needs her sleep—and back to all that it holds. Almost instantly, the high I was on evaporates.
I try to stop my heart from beating frantically, by quickly reflecting on the conversation I’d just had. It was certainly nothing Earth shattering, but worth a rethink all the same—especially for someone like me, who has to analyse things. It’s then that I realise the conversation consisted only of me and Jasmine—Lily didn’t say a single word. She just sat there, stoic. The only acknowledgement she gave me was a half-hearted wave as she followed her friend dutifully to bed.
What is with her? Does she not like me?
I decide to pay more attention to her next time I see the girls to rectify that, but right now I’m ready for something that’s much more important. My fingers idly trace, finding the book under my sleeping bag once more.
It’s still there!
A small part of me thought that someone would have taken the first opportunity to swipe it back. I don’t really know how I feel about the fact that it’s still here. Sure, it still means I can satisfy my curiosity, but if the chance to do that was totally taken away from me then it would just be done. My life wouldn’t be in danger and I wouldn’t ever know what’s written within these pages.
Taking a deep breath, I return to the page I was on before, the one with all of the details about Ruby. I re-read, trying to decipher it all in every way possible, before moving on to the other two similar reports on the same page:
6. Tyler Williams, 27, Semi-Professional Football Player.
6”1’, 70kg, green eyes, light brown hair.
Says in his notes that he’s suffered a sports-related knee injury in recent months.
His younger sister is currently in the camp.
The worst case I currently have. The damage to his body is irreparable. He was brought in during the third stage of infection. His intestines have fallen from a hole in his stomach; three bones are sticking out from his leg. His left leg is at a very uncomfortable angle, but this doesn’t appear to be causing him any problems. I have seen a noticeable difference within him. He was very aggressive at first, banging on the glass, similar to specimen three, but in the last twelve hours, he has quietened down and slumped to the floor. Given up? Condition worsening? Time will only tell.
7. Emma Kenshole, 16, GCSE Student.
5”3’, 51kg, dark brown eyes, dark blonde hair.
Her notes suggest she may have suffered from anxiety, but with a large question mark so this information isn’t confirmed.
Her grandmother is in camp.
She is the quietest specimen I currently have. She was brought in during stage one. I don’t know if she was coherent or not because she stayed silent. Now in stage two, she looks as if she is suffering the same pain as the others, but she still isn’t making any noise. I haven’t been able to find out any more information about her. According to the board, her grandmother suffers from mild dementia so isn’t responding well to questioning. I intend to run many more tests on this specimen.
This all seems quite…professional. All this talk of specimens and stages. I can’t really work out what it means. Is there really some kind of testing lab here? If so, then where? I try to think about the camp fully, but I still can’t picture where this place might be. That really seems like the sort of thing we should all know about.
Maybe it’s where the cure was or wasn’t found. Maybe that rumour was true too!
I have a flick through the next few paragraphs, but they’re much the same. A few pages have quite clearly been torn out from the book and although I’m curious as to why, there certainly isn’t anything I can do about that. I can only focus on what I do have.
These words—this analysis—have been written by a scientist or a doctor of some kind. Now that I know for sure the virus is here, it makes me feel sick reading even the remote possibility that Ruby had it. And these other people, of course. Especially this sixteen-year-old mentioned. It’s all just so…fucked up. It’s not as if I thought children were immune to the virus or anything, but knowing something is possible, and having it confirmed is difficult, it’s forced me to think about it.
I wish I had someone I could talk to about all of this, to go over it with another mind, another way of thinking. I briefly consider Jasmine and Lily, but quickly throw that idea out. After all, I’ve only known these girls a few minutes; I don’t really know anything about them. They could be working for the people in charge for all I know.
No, there isn’t anyone I trust enough. Not anymore.
I shut the book with a loud thud before turning over onto my back to have a think. I try to consider it all as a story, as research for something that I’m writing. I come up with all sorts of outlandish, unrealistic, and frankly ridiculous ideas, nothing that makes sense. All wonderful plot lines but nothing that can possibly be true, even if I consider every angle.
No, there is nothing I can process without having more information. This isn’t something I can decipher by segment; I’m going to have to know it all. I usually like to process things step-by-step, to allow my brain to analyse and decipher the information, but that just isn’t an option with this. This is something else entirely.
I take in a deep breath before flipping round onto my front and starting to read every single page.
CHAPTER FIVE
“A cure…” I whisper to myself at some time in the early hours of the morning. “Someone really has found a cure.”
Whoever has Ruby has seemingly found an answer for all of this. Unfortunately, it’s written on one of the half torn out pages, so I can’t figure out exactly why none of us have received said cure. Is there not enough of it? Is it currently being mass produced somewhere?
Or are they hiding it? Using it only for themselves?
I trace my finger over the letters, trying to allow the repercussions of them sink in.
I’ve had such a major breakthrough; it hasn’t even begun to sink in yet. I don’t even know what to do with myself while I process this information.
The thing is, it happened completely by accident. The first time I got the positive result, I wasn’t even sure what I’d done. The vial of blood that I’d taken from Jason was changing before my very eyes and all I could do was watch and wait. Then I had to rush through all my scruffy notes that I’d written, ready to write up later if anything of significance occurred.
I’ve found a cure…
I don’t know if this is enough for me to go public with. Without the name of Ruby Eastley, even I might have struggled to believe that this was nothing more than the crazy rants of a mad man. Maybe someone might know this Jason person—who was seemingly another specimen—but I can’t risk everything on that. It’s obviously been covered up for a reason, and if I’m the one to reveal it, I’ll surely be killed and the thought of that fills me with terror.
Even though I haven’t slept all night, I’m not tired at all. My brain is too wired, too all over the place for that. I need to get out of this tent right away; I need to get some fresh air, to do something, so I stagger out towards the toilet block. There are guards milling about and the last thing I want to do is grab their attention, so I focus on acting natural.
I try desperately to keep my breathing at a natural, calm level until my bare feet hit the cold tiles of the bathroom. Then, I allow the panic to set in, I start to gasp, I have to grab my legs, putting my head between my knees, just to stop it from spinning. I feel like I’m going crazy with all of the new information I have and I need to find out if at least a scrap of it is true. I need to know the truth about the cure.
I need to find Ruby. Wherever she is, the answers lie.
I make the decision quickly and easily, much faster than I would have done had I not escaped the confines of my tent. With fresh air inside me, I know what I have to do. Now I’ll just have to wait until morning to do it. I give myself a few moments to calm down, before braving the keen eyes of the guards once more.
***
I wake up with a start, not even realising that I’d fallen asleep. My heart is thumping painfully and my mind instantly tries to decipher what’s real and what only came from my nightmares. A combination of horrifying memories, fears, and my own wild imagination based on what I’d read in the mystery science-y diary haunted me in the short time I drifted off and now it’s taking my brain a minute to come back down to reality. So much so, that it actually takes me longer than it should to notice all of the noise coming from outside.
Again?
I jump up, panic coursing through my veins, and rush outside without even thinking about changing my clothes. It still amazes me how quickly I managed to adjust to “apocalyptic life” in this way. By that, I mean not showering twice a day, wearing dirty clothes, and the constant hunger. When we first got here, the showers in the toilet block were fully functioning so washing wasn’t a problem, but then water rationing came in and it ended up getting so ridiculous that people just gave up. Everyone’s in the same boat so no one really cares, there’s certainly no need to feel self-conscious, but sometimes I’ll have a little moment where I consider what the “old me” from before all of this would think of me now.
I push through the crowd, trying to figure out what the hell is happening this time. There seems to be a whole load of chaos, but no one really knows why. I’ve asked a couple of people, but they’ve either blanked me entirely or shrugged at me.
The only thing that is identical with absolutely everybody is a look of unbridled panic. With what went on yesterday, people are expecting the worst. I’m expecting the worst. People were expecting to wake up to answers, not more drama.
Finally, I spot a familiar face. “Jasmine!” I call out over the top of the crowd, and by some miracle she hears me.
As she turns to face me, I notice her lipstick is smudged, her hair is all tangled and knotted, and her clothes have clearly been hurriedly thrown on, judging by the fact that her t-shirt is inside out and the zip on her shorts hasn’t been fully done up.
The topless man with his arm casually slung over her shoulder looks just as dishevelled.
For a split second, the sight of the pair of them takes me aback. I almost forget what it was that I wanted to say. I didn’t know Jasmine had a boyfriend—that seems like the sort of thing she would have mentioned at the first opportunity. I mean, I guess he could just be a random hook-up, but I didn’t know that sort of thing was going on here. I just assumed we were all too disconnected.
Maybe it’s just me that became isolated. I just saw what I wanted to see.
I shake my head as I get closer, throwing out all these questions in my brain and focusing on the real problems going on here.
“What’s going on?” I cry out. As I speak, Jasmine’s friend moves away from her, allowing me to grab her full attention.
“Let’s go find Lily,” she answers, gripping tightly to my arm. “I bet she’s seen something.”
I allow myself to be dragged by Jasmine’s forceful pulling. She manages to part the crowd easily, with much less fuss than me.
“Lily!” Jasmine keeps shrieking at random intervals, but she can barely be heard over everyone else.
Suddenly, she stops and I smack right into her back. We’ve reached the centre of the chaos—the place where all the panic is emanating from and to see what’s causing it, jolts shock right through me.
“Jazz!” Lily screams loudly, thrashing wildly against the two armed, heavy-set men holding her tightly. “Help, Ja—” A hand goes over her mouth, preventing her from finishing her sentence.
My brain is screaming at me to run and help the girl. Sure, she never really spoke to me, but I feel protective of her all the same. Words that I read in the book inadvertently spring into my mind—experiments, specimens, infected—and I can’t stop myself from picturing Lily in a scientific lab setting. Strapped down, wires and tubes attached to every part of her.
I want to do something to stop this, but I don’t know where I would even begin. I can’t just stand here and let this happen to someone I know, but my limbs feel stuck. I actually feel as if my brain has disconnected from everything else and now all of the messages it’s sending just aren’t being received.
Everything starts to move in slow motion, my brain seems to block out all of the noise surrounding me. Jasmine breaks free of my grip and starts to run towards Lily, I mouth the word “No,” but I’m not entirely convinced any sound actually comes out, Lily sees her friend and this gives her a burst of power and she fights harder.
Then, out of nowhere, blood spurts everywhere. I can’t figure out the source of this horror, my brain can’t quite connect the pieces together. Somehow, in all of this, Lily breaks free and she turns to greet her friend. As Jasmine opens her arms wide, I notice something about the scene is off. Something about Lily is off.
I scream.
Noise rushes into my ears with a whoosh and time appears to speed right back up again. Lily is heading towards Jasmine with a mouth full of blood and flesh and it seems she hasn’t noticed yet. A lustful hunger is shining through Lily’s newly white irises and with each slow step she gets closer to infecting her friend—my friend.
I leap forward, desperate to stop what’s about to happen, but I never quite make it. It seems I’m not the only one to have picked up on what’s going on as someone roughly shoves me to the ground, knocking the wind right out of me.
I rub my bruised side as I wait for my breath to come back. The pain is making me hot and dizzy and unable to make any rational decisions. Everyone is scattering in all kinds of directions; screaming, yelling, and trampling over everyone and anyone, all the while I lay here like an idiot.
Jasmine.
As soon as her name pops into my brain, I feel someone pulling me upwards. I stand up to see my friend alive and unharmed. I don’t deny that my eyes automatically scan over her body, trying to spot a bite, but apart from a few blood spots, she looks no different from before.
I then turn to see Lily—or what used to be Lily—tearing the skin off someone else with her teeth. The virus has completely consumed her now and she’s nothing more than a monster, just like the ones we were facing back in the UK.
How did I not notice?
I knew Lily was acting strange, but nothing about me even considered the virus. I never, ever thought that I wouldn’t be able to spot the signs if it was right in front of me, but Lily genuinely didn’t seem to be sporting any sort of evidence that she might be riddled with AM13, which is why I’m struggling so much to believe the image I’m seeing of her now. The one that looks like something from a nightmare. I can’t connect the dots, the jigsaw pieces just don’t quite fit together.
I flick back to look at Jasmine. Her eyes are also trained on her friend. A tear pops out from her eye and slides down her cheek and that small moment of vulnerability is enough to force me to take control and get us both to flee for our lives.
CHAPTER SIX
It’s been three long days since all hell broke loose. At first, it was mayhem. Someone even set fire to the food court—trying to kill off all of the infected, I assume—I hope!—and it took forever to put out. The panic caused about as much death as the virus. In the heat of the moment, people don’t seem to see that if they would just stay calm, the outcome of the incident would be much better.
Not that I stayed calm myself.
Jasmine and I ran as far away from everyone else as we could. Then, we hid. We found a large, derelict building behind a small, woodland area—not actually that far away from where we’ve always been—and we stayed behind it for hours. Until the screaming died down.
While we were there, we just sat. We didn’t speak, we barely moved. Jasmine’s face was pale, her hair actually looked lank from stress, her fingers were trembling, and a sheen of sweat was slick on her face.
I’m sure I looked exactly the same.
I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell, to get it all out of my system. I wanted to do something, but I couldn’t. It was a struggle for me to even breathe—I actually had to concentrate to make that happen. In all of my life—even considering everything we’ve been through recently—I have never been so scared. All the fear I thought I’d felt before was nothing compared to this.
Part of me was afraid because of the zombies, here, where we can’t escape. Part of me was frightened because of everything I’ve read in that book and how much of it was starting to reveal itself to me. Another part of me was absolutely petrified that the book was going to get found, or go missing before I could do anything useful with it. Before I could even work out what it all meant.
We didn’t discuss going back. After a while, Jasmine just moved and I followed meekly behind, unable to even consider whether or not we were making the right choice. I had no idea how much time had passed back then, I was simply in a daze.
