AM13 Outbreak Series (Book 2): Forgotten (16 page)
ETHAN
Clare.
Clare.
Clare.
I’m back at her townhouse. I finally got here. I finally managed to get myself to do what needed to be done, and she’s not even here.
All those days, weeks of persuading myself that there was no better end than dying alongside the love of my life—even if it
did
mean getting that disease—and it was all for nothing.
I don’t know if
I
left the door open as I ran away last time, giving her the ability to escape, or if someone else has been here. All I know is that my world has fallen out from beneath me. I’m sitting at the bottom of her stairs, thinking her name over and over again. I’m probably rocking back and forth like a crazy person…but who cares? There isn’t exactly anyone around to judge me!
I just…I don’t know what to do now. I’ve been focused so long on this one goal, and now I have nothing. If Clare isn’t here, then I have
no idea
where to even begin looking for her—that’s just an impossible task.
I keep desperately wishing that this would all end and life would go back to normal. I miss having a life. Anything is better than this. But if it did return, would I even be able to survive? Look at me, I’m a mess. Too scared to do anything. I was always bad, but now I’m incurable. Even if I thought there was a hope for the human race to overcome this, I don’t believe that there’s a hope for me anymore.
Maybe I should just get it over and done with, and just
really
kill myself this time. No more waiting until I’m brave enough, or it feels right. Just get it damn well done already. It’s not like I have anything left to live for. I have no one—the entire country is empty! I’ve already accepted that I’m going to die; I came here ready to do it, so maybe I should stick to that plan and do it anyway.
It doesn’t really matter—I’m dying anyway.
I haven’t eaten for…I don’t even know how long. I’m exhausted, skinny, and finding life harder than ever. Death would be easier than this!
But how will I do it?
Just as my mind comes up with hundreds of different concepts of how I could end my miserable little existence, another thought pops into my mind. A woman—one that I haven’t given a passing thought for a little while now. The one that’s still stuck inside my home. Whatever mistakes I made with Clare won’t have happened here. I was
sure
to lock her in.
I may not be able to die with the woman I love, but surely it’d be better to die with my one remaining family member.
Leah.
She came to me for a reason. I had no idea what that was at the time, but now I do. I’m far too cowardly to
actually
kill myself. I can think about it as an abstract concept, but actually
doing
it—that will never happen.
A spark of excitement flickers deep inside me at the thought of having an answer. It may be a crazy one, but right now, I think I am crazy. I jump upright off the stairs and move towards the door. Now that I know what I’m doing, I can push all of the agonising pain that’s racking through my body to one side. I can even live along my doomsday voice, because what it’s screaming at me is what I want to do.
Leah, I’m coming, Leah!
DR. JONES
March 30
th
1:25 p.m.
Cough.
Sniff.
Sneeze.
These sounds have started to haunt me. I can no longer ignore the fact that Jason is starting to finally display the early signs of AM13. I’ve been pointedly ignoring the festering wound on his forearm. I’ve been trying to act like it isn’t even there, even though it’s been difficult to take no notice of the fact that it’s been getting more disgusting as time has gone by. Even though I haven’t had a specimen long enough to see the deterioration occurring as much as I would like to, I can see it in this area. It’s black, rotting, and the smell is horrendous. Even though I never comment on it, I can see how much difficulty Jason is having using it. It’s becoming a useless limb.
I can’t help but wonder how much of this is to do with the lack of cancerous cells he now has in his body. Have I brought on the effects of AM13 much quicker by taking away the disease that seemed to be blocking it? He’s still taking his medication, but I don’t think it’s holding the virus off any longer. I can’t help but worry that he will progress through the three stages much quicker having avoided them for so long
—
and it’s all my fault.
I’ve worked with all the medications I noted previously, I’ve run test after test, but still haven’t come up with something satisfactory. Isolating each chemical hasn’t provided me with a link to which one was holding off the AM13 virus. I’m not entirely sure if Jason has just been lucky. AM13 is so unpredictable, that’s as much of a possibility as anything else, unfortunately.
Using my professional head, I have come up with another
—
possibly very substandard
—
theory. Using Jason’s wound; I wonder how long it would take the infected to literally die out. Maybe, without any opportunity to spread the virus further
—
or a ‘food source,’ of course I still can’t be 100% on my previous notes
—
maybe the infected will not be able to survive for long. It came to me as more of a passing thought, but the more I obsess over the concept, the more I realise it could be correct.
I can’t see the board being pleased with this idea. It offers no miracle cure or antidote. In fact, all it suggests is that we wait it out until the UK could possibly be much safer. It’s a tough grey area too because judging by the variation in the specimens, it could take a
long
time for them to all deteriorate into non-existence. Then of course, without the knowledge of what brought this virus into being, the possibility of another flare-up will be an ever present threat.
Part of me wonders if someone somewhere
does
know where AM13 came from. I would have thought that a lot of time, money, and energy would be put into finding this out. It’s quite possible that it could be some sort of nuclear weapon. Maybe this is World War Three and none of us have worked that out yet. At any rate, I haven’t noticed too much concern about this topic from the board members. Why aren’t they bothered? It’s so curious.
Maybe they started it to get to where they are now.
Ignore that last remark, I’m allowing my emotions and imagination to get in the way of my work again.
4:15 p.m.
16. Kevin Hall, 32, Factory Worker
5”9’, black hair, dark brown eyes.
Previous medical condition—diabetes.
His wife and father are in the camp.
He was brought in during the latter stages of stage two. He’s now in stage three. His body is already showing signs of the deterioration I’ve seen in Jason. I wonder if they’ve all shown this, but I’m just noticing it now as it’s something that I’ve decided to focus on?
17. Joanna Scott, 39, Magazine Editor.
5”2’, red hair, green eyes.
No previous medical conditions.
I have no knowledge of any family left in camp. One of the soldiers has implied that she’s related to one of my previous specimens, but I’m not sure how much truth there is in that.
She’s in stage one, but incredibly ill from the flu symptoms. She’s the first I’ve seen so affected by this. I’ll need to keep an eye on her to see if this not only affects her development, but her condition after reaching stage three.
18. ‘John Smith’
I have no information on this specimen. Nothing was brought with him. I can only assume that he’s in his early twenties. His features are now indistinguishable due to the damage his body has received. He appears to have been in stage three for a long time now
—
I don’t know why I didn’t receive him earlier. I can’t continue to question the mysteries of what goes on around here
—
it causes me more trouble than it’s worth.
Whilst the soldiers were in here delivering my new specimens, they attempted to take away specimen fourteen. I managed to convince them to leave her
—
after all she’s now the ‘oldest’ specimen I have. I wish I’d managed to hold onto some of the others, especially those twins. They were showing some interesting signs, but I let them go because I hadn’t even considered my latest theory at that point. Once they’d delved into the latter part of stage three, I lost interest. They no longer held any merits for me. That’s where my main mistake has been.
But now I’m going to use specimen fourteen, and possibly some of the newer entries, to see if I’m right. Apologies to Rachel Lawrence and her family for using her body for science in such a way. It’s cruel to prolong her agony, but she could give me the greatest clue to all of this.
8:30 p.m.
Something terrible just happened. Something I don’t even want to note down because of the horrible implications that come along with it.
Jason just lost a game of chess to me.
Seeing it written down like that doesn’t even begin to display the catastrophic nature behind the sentence. I feel the need to explain this information further.
As I’ve previously noted, I’ve been playing chess with Jason during the evenings to help me wind down from all of this intense research. Rather than being a distraction, the change of activity has been helping with my work. Jason is an exceptional chess player and this has been a running joke between us. He hasn’t lost to me once. I’ve taken it all in good humour, enjoying the motion of playing much more than the competition, but this loss has brought everything to light. Everything that I suspected has shone through.
His brain function is starting to fail him.
When I knew that the tables were beginning to turn and the odds were working in my favour, I started to study him intently. He looks terrible. Much worse than when he was inflicted with a combination of cancer and AM13. He’s dying before my very eyes and I’ve failed him because I haven’t worked out a way to save him.
His blood will be on my hands.
I need to get out of here. I’ve got to find a way before I end up insane. I fear that losing Jason on top of everything else will strip me of the little sanity I have left.
4:30 a.m.
Is this what depression feels like? I’ve studied it at some point in my education, but trying to remember it now just brings back fuzzy memories of textbooks and long terminology. That’s the problem with learning, until you fully experience something first hand, you can never truly understand. I’m sitting at my desk and I don’t want to move ever. If I died right now, I wouldn’t care. Not for myself anyway. Of course I couldn’t be so selfish for the impact it could have on Ashley and Melody. But if I only had myself to consider, I’d happily end it all.
Why am I even here? What’s the point of bothering at all?
I’m watching specimen eighteen and I’m actually jealous of his lack of mental problems. Sure physically he’s a mess, but he hasn’t got any troubles weighing on his shoulders anymore. All of that brain function is no longer active. He’s got it far easier now. I’ve been trying to imagine what his life was like before, who he might have been, but I can’t turn the jealousy off long enough to care.
I’m done. I think it’s obvious that I’m done.
ALYSSA
While I’m on a roll with my good ideas being met with positivity, I suggest to Randy that we get a car. That way we can drive around, trying to locate somewhere safe and suitable for the time being, to save wearing ourselves out unnecessarily. There’s no argument against that, surely?
Of course I was wrong. Pete, put out by my newfound respect, just
has
to disagree. “It’ll lead the infected to wherever we’re going. They’ll follow the noise.”
Not about to be stopped, I continue. “Okay then, how about
someone
takes a car, finds a good place, then we can walk to it after? I think I saw in a film once someone leaving the car with the music blaring and it took all of the zombies way off course!” I’m excited by this memory. I’m pleased by my ingenious scheme.
“Well, there might not be any need to go
that
far, but I think you have the basic idea right, Alyssa.” I almost want to stick my tongue out at Pete as Randy agrees with me, but I can’t allow myself to be so immature. I can still sense that I need to prove my worth. I wonder if the competitive edge will ever dispel between us.
Before I can speak again, Randy is making plans. “Me and Sarah will go and find a car to have a look around, you lot stay here. Alyssa, Emily, and Pete are in charge, boys, so you must do anything they tell you. Don’t forget how dangerous it is out here, okay?” Their pale, drawn faces suggest that they’re frightened enough without this being encouraged. “Please don’t move unless of course you have to. Maybe we should make the Plan B meeting place the shopping centre? I know it’s quite far from here but we all know where it is.” We all murmur in agreement, desperately hoping that it doesn’t come to that. I don’t want to have a mad dash that far, having such responsibility for the boys’ lives. The last time I was in charge of a child it didn’t end so well, although I doubt I’ll be disobeyed here. The boys are much better behaved than Lexi—they know what’s at stake.
We sit in an awkward silence after they go. The boys are too tense to talk and there’s a weird atmosphere between the rest of us and I have no idea why. Well, I guess I know where Pete’s animosity has come from. I’ve stripped him of all of his power by belittling his idea of constant movement. But why Emily is so mad, I don’t know.
“Maybe we should just talk about what’s bothering you, Pete. Sitting here angry isn’t great. Don’t you think we have enough to worry about?” I take the coward’s way out and attempt to tackle the easy problem first.
“I’m not angry, Alyssa. I’m just concerned, I suppose. I feel uneasy about stopping. Especially after what happened at the church.” He shuts his mouth before anything else can come spilling out. I know there’s so much more to his feelings, but the way his jaw is clamped shut I know he isn’t going to reveal it anytime soon. He’s obviously experienced a lot more than any of us know, but I can’t push him to open up. He has to do it in his own time, if at all. I guess for some people, reliving loss and awful memories isn’t at all helpful. It may remain a mystery to the rest of us, but everyone has to be able to make their own choices. It’s not up to me to force information out of anyone.
After a slight deliberation, I turn to Emily. Using a much softer tone, I start to question her. “Are you okay, Em? You don’t seem—”
Water fills her eyes as she turns to face me with a weak smile plastered across her face. She nods tightly, also refusing to open her mouth. Unsatisfied by either of their feeble answers, I turn to the children and try to coax chatter out of them—anything to disperse the awful quiet. I finally manage it by asking them which superhero they thought would be best in the zombie apocalypse. They start to argue over which super powers would be most useful and I sit back, pleased that we no longer have to endure silence.
The others don’t move or speak. They continue sitting in their tense positions, bursting with words they won’t allow to spill out. I can’t bear it so I continually wander around, keeping a look out for zombies. I can’t believe how lucky we’ve been, sitting still and not encountering any yet. It could mean something, couldn’t it? Maybe something has happened that we aren’t yet aware of.
* * *
Time seems to fly past and soon Randy and Sarah are rushing back to us, panting and head to toe in blood and grime. It looks like they’ve had a much worse time than us, completely dismissing my optimistic thoughts that someone has come back to kill off all of the infected. Before I allow my brain to consider why we got so lucky, Randy speaks.
“We’ve found somewhere.” My heart lifts as he continues, trying to catch his breath. This is fantastic news, this could solve everything. “It’s a risk, so we’ll need to approach it carefully. We looked for as long as we could but obviously the noise of the car brought a lot of infected with us. As you can probably tell, it was a struggle getting back here.” He gestures to the mess that covers him. “It’s an RAF base, so of course going there is incredibly illegal—I’m not too sure how much that matters at the moment—but it’s
very
well protected. There’s a massive electrical fence surrounding it. It probably won’t be on, but it’s something.” I stand up at this point, already sold on the idea and wanting to move immediately. “I imagine it’s got a lot of what we need already there, food in particular—”
“Let’s just go, it sounds perfect!” I interrupt. If it’s out of town it’ll probably take a while to get there, and we need to arrive before dark to avoid another night out in the open. No one else speaks, but to my utter pleasure, they all comply by getting up and starting to move. Things are finally coming together and working out.
* * *
We walk for hours. The entire trip has been silent. I think everyone is full of anticipation because we’re walking into the unknown. I’m not feeling that way at all, I’m just distracted and constantly on the lookout for E. I’m certain, with all this distance we’re covering, that we will eventually find some sort of clue as to E’s whereabouts. Of course the mystery person might not have survived this long, but my instincts tell me that isn’t the case.
This keeps me focused the entire journey, meaning I don’t allow myself to succumb to the fatigue that’s trying desperately to drag me down. If I didn’t have these thoughts circling around in my brain, I’m not entirely convinced if I would have made it in one piece! I have no idea how the boys are coping so damn well!
Finally, Randy announces that we’re almost there, and everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief. Even Pete seems pleased that we’ll have somewhere to stop soon.
Then, my gaze sets upon it, and I smile to myself. It’s absolutely perfect!
