AM13 Outbreak Series (Book 2): Forgotten (15 page)
DR. JONES
March 24
th
6:15 a.m.
Things are getting weirder by the second. I still haven’t worked out how to process any of it yet. I haven’t slept in about 36 hours, so not only is my mind reeling with the new information its received, exhaustion is contributing an adverse effect.
It all started yesterday lunchtime, when my meal was delivered. As I’ve probably commented in an earlier note, the amount of food I’ve been receiving has been more than substantial. In fact, it’s been brilliant because I’ve been able to share it with the specimens that are in stage one and occasionally stage two when they’re still up for eating. Of course, Jason has benefitted immensely. But yesterday I was simply served a few crackers and a tiny lump of cheese. The guy that delivered it to me had put it down and left before I had time to question him. I don’t usually leave my work to talk to anyone that comes down here unless I’m forced to, but it was quite obvious that he rushed so as not to get involved with my fury.
At first I was confused. I didn’t want to contact the board and complain. That seemed a bit of an unsuitable reaction when resources could very well be scarce. Then I remembered the feast I’d seen only a couple of days before in that boardroom. Things can’t be that dire if they’re eating and wasting food to that extent. I started to moan idly to Jason about it while internally trying to decide on my next move. That’s when it all came spilling out. But before I get to that I just want to comment that I’ve realised the lack of food is my punishment for not acting exactly on their instructions. Because I stumbled across another solution, I’m having my luxuries stripped away.
This is when, for the very first time, I learned the truth of what’s really happening outside the confines of this building. As I only know it from Jason’s perspective, I’m going to write it down here as his story.
Jason arrived here approximately the same date as I did. He was alone
—
he doesn’t mention any family and I don’t ask. Subjects like that can be very sensitive in these times. They didn’t land in an airport, it was a large field, which they were left in for hours before anything was organised. He believes that we are on a small European island somewhere, but no one has been given concrete information about this. He’s heard rumours in camp that it’s an island that didn’t receive much tourism, which is why it was never hit by AM13. He also heard that there is a large wall surrounding the area, but doesn’t know how much truth there is in that. It could all simply be hearsay.
At this point I’d just like to mention that Jason knows less about the men in charge than I do. He’s as unsure as me as to what gave them the power, although he assumes at least some of them are government members.
After a while, they were all led to a massive, derelict campsite. Although there was underlying grumbling, no one outwardly complained because it was obvious that no one had much choice
—
these people had battled through the streets of the UK to get to their airports, just the same as me. This was a much better option than that at least.
The food portions have always been meagre
—
Jason was surprised about what I get in here. He’d be furious if he saw what I did in the boardroom
—
and it’s unbearably freezing cold. They’re living under incredibly strict rules; policed by ‘muscle men’ who don’t appear to have any regulations on the amount of force they’re allowed to use to keep things under control. These are also the people who weed out any signs of infection and bring them in here to me.
Here is where I asked Jason where his bite came from. He believes that someone snuck in an infected person onto the plane as there have been random flare-ups of the virus within camp. He got bitten by a young boy hours before he was ushered down here
—
I wonder if this was James Max. Any one that fights against being brought here is shot. There are no second chances. Families are torn apart in a terribly violent fashion.
This led to dissatisfaction slowly turning into full-blown angry riots. The resolve is obviously awful and everyone is now terribly frightened. Just as Jason was bitten, the living situation was beginning to become excruciating. He ‘dreads to think how awful it must be now.’ When he was brought into this underground laboratory he was shocked by how warm and spacious it is. He has often wondered why they haven’t made this the living space. Of course, the food portions have been a bit of a sticking point as well. Luckily he caught on quickly how little power and control I have, or things could’ve gotten very awkward.
Life in here has actually been preferable for Jason. He’s felt much safer since he became infected. I can’t even begin to get my head around that one. It must be god awful for that to be the case. It’s hell in here.
Of course I had to ask why he’d kept all that information from me until now, I’ve complained enough about my fears for Ashley and Melody. But that was the exact reason he gave for keeping me in the dark. He didn’t want to frighten me and send me way off course. He knew what this knowledge could do to me and he didn’t want to distract me from my research. Not for selfish reasons, but he knows that I have to do this to get out. He knows the board will kill me if I don’t.
But it has now gotten too far. He couldn’t keep it in any longer. He needed to put the fire under my belly to get me motivated again. I understand. I do, but it doesn’t make any of it any easier to digest.
I can’t focus, I feel sick. I thought writing all of this down would help me make some sort of sense of it, but it hasn’t. I’m more confused than ever. I need to see my family. This won’t do anymore. I can’t do anything, I won’t. They’re on my mind all the time. I must be able to do something? I’d give up my position if I thought that would help but I know with a sure fire certainty that it won’t. If I beg, plead, bow down to their requirements, surely they can’t deny me my family any longer? I know that I’ve already stepped way outside my boundary to allow that to happen, and it didn’t, but I need to try again.
I can’t carry on like this. I can’t take anymore.
I have never felt so low before. I have a weird sense of loss, a pit of unease lying flatly in the bottom of my stomach. I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing really, these notes are supposed to be emotion-free. A scientific journal. But I guess it gives a bigger picture of the events that are going on.
Or maybe I just need the sense of relief that comes from getting it off of my chest.
ALYSSA
Eventually Randy pops his head into our tent, breaking the one-sided tension. It’s mine and Emily’s turn to keep watch for two hours, after which Sarah will take over with Pete. Apart from Randy, we decided to stick in twos with one ‘fighter’ in each pairing, so that we can watch each other’s backs. I push myself up carefully, but glad to have a valid reason to remove myself from the uncomfortable situation. I’ve barely slept a wink since Emily’s revelation, whereas she has been merrily snoring away, unaware of the effect she’s had on me.
I climb out solo, enjoying the sensation of the cool breeze brushing my skin. I need some time by myself out in the open air to clear my mind and organise my thoughts. More close proximity to Emily will just cloud my judgement further. I don’t want to experience these strange feelings. I couldn’t bear it if things became awkward between us; I love my friendship with Emily—she’s the closest companion I’ve ever had. This zombie apocalypse has forced us to become close very quickly, and for someone like me, that’s amazing.
The thing is, deep down, I do know why I feel so strange but I’m nowhere near ready to admit it to myself yet. I force my thoughts back towards Pete. As much as he annoys me, I feel like we had a real connecting moment back at the church before we embarked on this ludicrous mission. I know I instantly dismissed it, for very good reason. But now, in the light of this new emotional turmoil, I feel the need to revisit it. Why have I not fixated on that occurrence? Why was it so easy to push it from my mind, readily accepting that nothing would ever come between us, but thoughts of Emily become more enticing and tantalising?
Maybe it’s just the pressure of losing the church. I’ve been feeling all over the place since then. I barely even feel like myself anymore. Maybe it’s just because Emily’s revelation has shocked me. I guess finding out that my pre-conceived notions about her being buttoned-up and very serious were way off has made me reconsider everything. I’m obviously just transferring this into baffling thoughts. Thoughts that far overstep the boundaries of friendship.
I tug at the ends of my hair, trying to push the images of Emily’s plump red lips, long pale matted hair, and deep chocolate brown eyes out of my mind. I’ve
got
to stop it. I need to get out of my head. I’m letting my imagination run wild. It’s the damn zombie apocalypse doing this to me. It’s a weird life-or-death situation and I’m clinging onto people in a way that’s much different than what I’m used to. After losing my family and spending so much time alone, it was bound to have some sort of negative impact on me.
I just need to carry on as normal; all these feelings will soon pass me by. I’ll just forget tonight, pretend it never happened, and all will be fine. Really, with flesh-eating zombies roaming around the country, a little bit of mixed emotion is a tiny and insignificant problem. I need to remember that I’m out here camping—my very worst nightmare. I need to ensure I survive so that tomorrow I can tackle Randy and Pete.
It isn’t long before Sarah comes to join me, my watch turn already over. As Pete hasn’t woken up yet, I decide to sit with her for a while, prolonging the time before I have to return to the confines of the tent. We talk about everything and nothing. Mostly tales about our lives before AM13. I’m surprised to find out how cool she actually is. She’s much more laid back out here in this one-on-one conversation. I can clearly see how she has slotted into the ‘caring motherly’ role that our group really needs, but in reality she is so much more than that. It’s nice to be able to feel close to her, knowing how far she’d disconnected from everyone.
After a while, Pete arrives, bleary-eyed and yawing, and I can no longer find a reason to stay. As I wander back to the tent, fatigue starts to get to me and I’m actually asleep before my head hits the pillow. Obviously sitting alone was the best thing I could have done, clearing out any unwelcome thoughts. I never thought I’d be able to rest out here, putting my life in the hands of others. In the past, that would have never happened.
In the end, I’m woken up by everyone else rising. I’m shocked to see that morning has arrived, at one point it felt like that would never happen. Emily barely speaks one word to me over breakfast and again I find myself desperately trying to figure out what I did wrong. She was asleep during my hours of contemplation and I thought she didn’t really notice my initial reaction. Have I somehow given the impression that I’m just another judgmental person? How can I convey to her that couldn’t be further from the truth, without accidentally giving across another incorrect notion?
As soon as the food has been eaten, Pete starts up again about our movements for the day. I try to see if anyone else is starting to find the concept of this lifestyle as insane as I do, but to my intense disappointment, people are either barely listening or showing signs of bare acceptance. Now is the time to speak up. If I don’t right now I’ll be forced to suffer another night in a tent.
“How about we—”
“Come on, Alyssa, now isn’t the time for arguing,” Randy interrupts me again. I can’t work out why he suddenly has such a negative attitude towards me. I thought we got on fine, I never noticed any disapproval from him before. As I glare towards him, I suddenly notice how exhausted he looks. Maybe he thinks I’m just trying to cause trouble, I don’t know what would give him that impression. Instead, I’m spurred on by the prospect that I just
know
my suggestion is better.
“No, I don’t want to cause issues. I just want to at least discuss my idea. Give everyone another option from this constant wandering. It won’t do us any good in the long run.” My pleading eyes go unnoticed but no one interrupts. “
If
we could find somewhere safe, somewhere much more suitable than the church, couldn’t we at least attempt to stay there?” I look around to see everyone is intently listening. Finally I’m being considered again. I need to run this home while I have everyone’s attention. “We’re going to need a few days’ rest eventually, this is going to become tiring quickly. If any signs of us becoming surrounded arise, of course we’ll move on and try somewhere else. Camping won’t be ideal forever; we have to consider elements outside of the zombies. Cold, for instance.” I find myself gesturing wildly as if I’m really getting into this role. “And we mustn’t give up hope. I don’t want to accept that England is lost forever. We need to at least
believe
that one day someone will come back for us. Surely they’re going to want this country to be inhabitable again at some point? We know for a fact that the human race hasn’t died out, this isn’t your typical Hollywood zombie apocalypse film, this is real life. A life where the government has a contingency plan, we just happened to miss it. They’ll come back; we just need to keep on going until then. Finding somewhere safe to stay will help us succeed.”
I’ve gone off on a slight tangent, taking this monologue a bit too far. I’ve started spouting things that are only a minute possibility as if I’m utterly convinced that they’re true. White lies aside, it seems to be working. I spot flickers of positivity and it drives home just how fed up everyone has been. Even me. I always had abstract fantasies about myself thriving in this sort of situation. I envisioned myself becoming a better person simply through living in my own horror film. I thought anything was better than the hollow, shallow life I was surviving in before. But it’s a lot tougher than I could have ever suspected. I may have formed much stronger bonds with people, I’ve actually been in the same place long enough to find friends, but I don’t think I’ve thrived. I don’t think I’m a better person. I think all of this has highlighted how weak I really am. Maybe not physically—I have fought well against the zombies—but mentally. It’s brought to light how little I really know about myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been a full person with an entire personality. I’ve never sat in one place long enough to know a single thing about myself.
A small voice pushes this upsetting revelation aside. Leon pipes up in a tiny voice. “I agree with Alyssa. I liked it better inside than out here. It’s scarier than I thought it would be.” Ben nods emphatically beside him. I smile warmly at them both. I’ve not had a great deal to do with the children; I’ve been trying to include myself in the ‘adult’ section of the group. I’m so pleased that they’ve spoke up for themselves, and not just because they’re on my side. They deserve to be considered in our decisions as much, if not more, than the rest of us.
Fortunately Sarah is immediately swayed by her son’s words and I can see Randy being pulled in every direction too. I keep silent, knowing that I no longer need to contribute. It won’t be long before the majority agrees with me.
“Yeah actually, Mum, I agree with Alyssa too. Camping isn’t as safe as being inside a building. Maybe if we compromise and move between buildings every few days, we can be safer. Plus, we can always keep our eye out for other survivors. We know there must be others.” Emily’s words are unexpected. I thought she was angry at me for some reason, but maybe she is smart enough to realise that this isn’t about me and her. The logic she provides sways everyone onto the right choice. Even Pete can’t find disagreement with her words.
As we walk, I start to think about something else Emily said. Other survivors. We still haven’t found E. This is bound to change that, whoever it is must still be in the area somewhere. We’ve just
got
to find E now. I pull the battered piece of paper out of my pocket. The words are illegible now but I have them memorised. Plus the writing on that wall has been committed to my memory. Now that I know I’ve gotten my way with our living arrangements, I start to obsess over where E might be now.
