AM13 Outbreak Series (Book 2): Forgotten (14 page)
DR. JONES
March 22
nd
10:20 a.m.
I can’t believe what’s happened. I’m in utter shock, but no matter how many times I retest and look over the results, it always spells out the same answer. 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 for cancer!
Well, at least I think I have. It certainly looks that way. Can you believe it? I certainly can’t! All the years of research that have gone into it and somehow I’ve fixed it without even intending to.
I was running some tests using some of the chemicals that I hadn’t used yet in previous experiments. I wasn’t expecting anything; nothing has happened so far
—
in fact, I was starting to believe that nothing was ever going to happen. As always, I had a vial of blood from myself
—
uninfected
—
and from specimens in varying stages, in this case one, seven, and Jason. This time, I had the idea of creating a vial of ‘recently infected’ blood by combining mine and Jason’s. I had no idea if this was going to be effective, but it’s the closest I can get. By the time the specimens are brought to me, they’re already
—
at minimum
—
a few hours in. I wanted to see if anything could be done within seconds of infection.
The blood sample I created was effective, it had exactly the same qualities as all of the other infected samples, but unfortunately it didn’t provide any different results to what I’ve previously seen. All I can conclude is that as soon as AM13 enters your blood stream, it’s too late to stop it from transferring all the way into stage three. A point that I’ve already noted, as depressing a note as it is, nothing I do seems to alter that result.
So almost immediately, the combination of Fluticasone, Infliximab, Erythopoietin and Cisplatin
—
a combination, as far as I’m currently aware, never seen together
—
the cancerous cells started disappearing at a rapid rate. Aside from the AM13 virus, Jason’s blood was completely clear.
Of course, now I need to figure out how much of that was down to the infection of the AM13 virus. I’m afraid that it could be a lot. I don’t want to present the cure just to find out that sufferers need to be infected with another deadly virus first. One that has no aid or solution. For the moment, anyway.
I know this is a detour in my research. It isn’t my instructed duty, but it’s still something of a miracle. I can’t wait to show my findings to the board, at least then all of the criticism will be forced to stop. They can’t exactly continue saying I’m doing nothing when I’ve discovered this cure. The cure for one of the most awful diseases to face humanity before AM13.
I’m sure now that if I can do this, I can tackle the job that I’m supposed to be working on. I’ll find a way somehow. I can do it. I can.
3:15 p.m.
I’ve been called to a meeting with the board in 15 minutes so I’m gathering up all of my notes. I’m actually really excited about this. I’m still trying to figure out how much AM13 impacts on the cure. Without cancerous but uninfected blood, it’s challenging. I’m sure this meeting will lead to more assistance on this task. It’s so important, I’m sure resources will be found somehow.
I still haven’t recovered from the enormity of this. When I think of all the time, effort, and funding that has previously gone into this research, and I’ve found something of an answer…and quite a simple one at that. Whatever the outcome, it’s a start!
5:05 p.m.
I’m speechless. I don’t even know how to write all of this down. Where do I begin?
They don’t want to know. Not at all. In fact, rather than dispelling the criticism, it became a hundred times worse. Why can’t they see what a good thing this is? Even if the research is incomplete, it’s a massive step in the right direction.
No, criticism isn’t even the word. This time, the threats weren’t implied, they were real. Accompanied by violence. A soldier was ordered to hold a knife against my throat. My breathing was restricted, I started to get dizzy. Words were yelled at me, but I couldn’t hear them, my ears had gone fuzzy with fear. Although I’ve known for a while that the board members are bad people, this is the first time I’ve had that fact thrust in my face.
My family. I want to know where they are. I suspect now more than ever that the board isn’t treating them well. What if they’re being held somewhere? Being mistreated? Why didn’t I just stick to my original plan and stay with Ashley and Melody throughout all of this? Why did I allow myself to get duped in such a terrible fashion? Questions and emotions are flying though me, making it very difficult to concentrate on anything. I could scream with frustration. I need to get out of here. I need to leave this place. Now. I can’t last much longer. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.
Fucking hell, what am I doing?
3:00 a.m.
I’ve calmed down a bit. Now I’m just really upset. I’ve talked everything through with Jason and he’s got me back on the right path. Escape just isn’t a viable option. They’ll kill me for sure. These people aren’t reasonable. I just need to get some form of solution, anything will do. An answer, whatever it may be. Even if the result is incomplete, not fully tested. I need to give them something.
Jason is already looking better after ingesting my solution
—
it was his idea to take it, I didn’t want to force that choice upon him. I couldn’t ask him to be my guinea pig, much as it would help my work. I’ve told him to continue on his cancer medication as it still seems to be slowing down AM13. I don’t want to risk losing him over finding the answer to the wrong question. Not when he means as much to me as he does.
Now that my mind is thinking more rationally, I can’t stop thinking about the amount of food they had in that boardroom. Their dinner was served to them whilst I was still in there. If I thought I was being served a lot to eat, I was very mistaken. I’ve never seen such a banquet! I’m sure they don’t need that much, do they? It can’t have all been eaten. What a waste. You’d think in this situation, rationing supplies would be essential? It was almost disgusting.
I have to assume that they have plans in place. That they don’t expect us to be here for too much longer, for them not to be considering too far into the future. I want to know what’s happening, but I’m sure I don’t have any rights to ask. Especially when I’m viewed in such a negative way. This lack of knowledge is harder to swallow than anything else.
I wish I could continue with my research on the medication I created today, but I know that’ll just get me in more trouble. Instead I’m going to leave a sample of my discovery in the back of this notebook complete with detailed instructions
—
just in case something happens to me. I can’t be certain of anything anymore. If I survive, I fully intend to pursue this further, and if I don’t, I really hope that someone else does. This could be one of the biggest discoveries of this century if only it’s allowed to progress.
If someone finds this work and wants to credit me for my contribution, my name is Dr. Edmond Jones, born 15/12/1985. I graduated from Oxford University in 2007. A quick search online should pull up any more details
—
I know the university library contains a lot of my previous research data. I would like to be remembered for contributing something to the world, especially after all the struggles I’ve endured to achieve this.
Especially since I may not get the opportunity to do anything else.
ALYSSA
“There’s no way out.” The words slip out of my mouth without me even realising I was thinking them. There are more zombies outside than I even considered possible. I hear an audible gasp behind me, someone else is sharing my shocked reaction. I glance over to Randy and Pete, my comrades, and see determination gripping both of their faces. I try to adopt the same stance; this is exactly the sort of excitement I’ve been crying out for. Another chance to prove myself. I need to shake off all of the negativity that could potentially affect my performance. These people are relying on me. However furiously my heart is pounding, however much fear sits in the pit of my stomach, I need to come through. Emily, Sarah, and the children need me to do this.
“Get back!” Randy yells as the zombies start to pile inside. I don’t look behind me to see if they’ve listened. Instead I move forward, trying to push the infected backwards again. As soon as they invade this space, we’ll never make it out. I block out the screaming and shouting going on around me, I need to clear my mind to focus. This is life or death. I
can
do this, I have to.
I keep my awareness levels high even as I plunge my axe into the head of a disgusting crawler. I hadn’t seen a zombie missing the bottom half of its body up until this point, so I wasn’t expecting it. Its teeth were just about to sink into my ankle when I felt a drip of its saliva hitting my leg. Thank goodness I did or I’d be infected by now.
I glance down, revolted by its remains. Its head almost exploded by the force of my axe and has left a terrible, bloody mess at my feet. An eyeball rolls to the left and dark purple sludge sits on my boots. I feel a rush of queasiness as I realise that it’s the zombie’s blood. Whatever has been going on inside its body since it turned has created that gross mess I’m standing on. It’s amazing how much worse seeing these things in real life really is. I think it’s the combination of the sight
and
the smell. I don’t think the rotten, burnt out flesh is a scent I’ll ever become accustomed to.
They don’t stop coming. In fact, they’re coming from all angles. There seems to be no end to the undead swarm. Luckily I have Pete and Randy watching my back. I don’t know how many times they’ve saved me, but I’ve also been doing the same for them. It’s so hard to have your eyes everywhere all at once.
* * *
I’m panting, I’m out of breath. I’ve lost count of how many zombies I’ve killed. My lovely clean outfit is now covered in blood, pus, mud, and general grime. My hair is dripping with it all. The zombies seem to finally be decreasing in numbers, which is brilliant, because I’m not sure how much fight I have left in me. My arms are thoroughly aching with the constant thrusting.
“Is everyone all right?” The voice breaks through my barrier of fatigue. I nod, unable to speak yet. I notice a flash of Randy running past me and Pete, back inside the church. He must be checking on the others. I hope they hid well and nothing got inside. We
did
make a conscious effort to stop all the zombies entering, but anything could have happened when we weren’t aware. I can’t think too deeply into this, we still have to fight the final few until they’re gone or we’re all together and we can run. I hope I have enough energy left to move quickly. I can’t help but think of that massive horde I saw a long time ago as soon as I left my house. I wonder if I can run as fast as I did back then.
To my utter relief, everyone eventually exits, looking relatively unharmed. As they leave the church, they start running, and despite my body’s screaming protests, I follow suit. We continue until we reach the shopping centre I visited previously—the one where we found Pete. He’s gone inside with Randy, searching for camping equipment, while I wait with the others. I keep my mouth shut, even though there’s a whole lot I want to say about their stupid plan. I can’t suffer a dispute at the moment. I’ll just have to cope for now. I’ve survived outside before and I can do it again, but after tonight I
will
say my piece. I’ll argue the logical case; I’ll make everyone come around to my way of thinking.
I can do that—I’m supposed to be the heroine of this movie, for goodness sake!
I keep up the silence as they run back outside and we hurry towards the woodland. Everything inside me is telling me that this is definitely the wrong thing to do, but still I don’t speak. There isn’t any point; everyone is soaking up all of Pete’s
‘tips’
on how to find a great camping place, so I know no one will want to hear what I have to say. How he’s managed to put everyone so far under his spell—except me, of course—is unbelievable.
We find a small opening within the trees and before long, the tents are pitched. Even though the cold is starting to set in, we can’t set a fire. That’ll announce our location to any zombies in the nearby area. I can hear Randy, Pete, and Sarah discussing the plans for the night, to keep us safe. I’m sure I would be included in this conversation if I chose to be, but I don’t want any involvement. I don’t want to be responsible for all these terrible decisions being made. I just sit listening, staring at my feet. Times are set for us to keep watch, which we’ll do in shifts and in groups of two. I won’t be sleeping anyway, so this is no issue for me.
After dinner, the cold becomes too much, so even before the darkness has set in, everyone retires to their tents. Sarah and Randy share with their young children, which leaves me with the choice of bunking with Pete or Emily. An unwelcome fission of nerves settles in my stomach at the prospect of sharing with Pete, and for that exact reason I choose Emily. I can’t figure out what it is I feel for Pete, if it’s hate or something else, and I don’t want to work it out. I don’t need any of this confusion. I just need to focus on survival.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to have a decent chat with Emily, so I find myself really glad of the time alone. We talk for hours and I eventually steer the conversation to the topic I wish to discuss. This new development in our adventure has brought up a lot of feelings that I’ve tried very hard to suppress. Loss. It started at the church, and hasn’t left my mind, even during the fight.
I discuss my family, reminiscing over past times. I never thought I’d be able to do this—but with Emily, I just feel comfortable. I can feel the tears threatening to come out, but I carry on talking regardless. I can’t keep acting as if they didn’t exist or never mattered. It’s hard enough to grieve or recover from things in the zombie apocalypse—you just don’t have the time; you’re left in a constant limbo—so when I
can
organise my feelings, I suppose I should. I feel like a balloon being let down a little at a time as I speak. I’ve been so full up of all of this tight, difficult emotion and it’s such a release to finally be able to let it all out.
I leave out the details of their deaths; it’s obvious that they’re no longer here, so it’s not something that
needs
to be discussed. I particularly don’t want to go into details of Lexi’s demise; I think that’ll really push me over the edge into despair. I know I’ll have to eventually, but now just isn’t the time. I don’t want Emily to regard me differently, to look at me in an altered way. She may not understand that I did what I had to do. She hasn’t been faced with that situation yet. She views the zombies in a unique way, an academic way—obviously she sees the threat, but her mind just draws unique conclusions.
When my voice catches and I can’t continue with my story, Emily takes over and tells me about her father. I already know about their time after the zombies came, so she also goes into details of her life beforehand. It quickly becomes apparent that she isn’t as religious as her parents as she regales the time of her teenage rebellion with an undertone of joy. She always hated growing up under such strict rules, so as she reached adolescence, she went far too over the top, trying to separate herself from her family. Drinking, partying all night, even recreational drugs. I’m shocked, I had her down as such a prude, but it seems her youth has been far more exciting and experimental than mine. I guess with no solid friendships, I didn’t have anyone to do all of this with.
Then my astonishment goes even further as she tells me the tale of trying to hide all of her girlfriends from her dad, for fear of serious retribution, because homosexuality was frowned upon in his church. This stuns me into silence. My eyebrows shoot up so high, they might even have left my face for a second.
Emily’s a lesbian
. I’d have never in a million years guessed that. As she continues, unaware of my reaction, I start to feel uncomfortable at our close proximity. By picking Emily over Pete have I given her the wrong message? I shuffle about, more obviously that I would like. My cheeks feel like they are on fire, and I stutter, trying to discreetly change the topic. She looks confused, and more than a little hurt.
“You know I’m not going to pounce on you in the middle of the night, right?”
“Of course, I—” I start to laugh awkwardly. I don’t want to make this situation more prickly than it already is.
“Because it’s quite obvious that you aren’t into girls…”She leaves that sentence hanging in the air and I nod along silently. I feel oddly disappointed, which is completely the wrong emotion for this moment. I’m glad it’s obvious, I wouldn’t want any uncertainty.
No, I’m definitely straight, as heterosexual as they come. The tingly feeling that’s inside of me right now is just confusion and shock. I mean, I
do
connect with Emily, but that is just because we’ve been forced together in awful circumstances. My feelings for her are purely platonic. I would never think of her as anything more, I couldn’t. That isn’t me at all.
But as we say our goodnights and Emily shuts her eyes, all in can think about is her breath on my face.
