Lockdown (AM13 Outbreak Series) (15 page)

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

After a while, we stumble across a small block of public toilets right on the side of the road. I guess they’ve been built for the convenience of tourists who have travelled far. I examine the crumbled, mouldy walls for a few seconds before announcing to Mike that I’m going inside. In these conditions, I’m not about to miss a chance to use proper facilities. Who knows, I might get
really
lucky and they might even be working!

“Wait here for a second first. I’m just going to check that the coast is clear.” I’m a little touched by this kind gesture, but it doesn’t prevent the first instinct that rushes through me. My mind screams at me
this is your chance to go!
But I don’t take it. He still has all of my supplies, and honestly I don’t really have the courage to run.

Instead I remain standing, bouncing from foot to foot, waiting for him to give me the all clear.

As his figure looms through the doorway, I’m overwhelmed by a sense of revulsion. There’s just something so repulsive about him. It isn’t even his dreadful appearance; the dark, bloodshot eyes, his messy, dirty body, the smelly sweat pouring out of every orifice…it’s more than that. I just wish I could put my finger on
what
. It’s driving me insane.

As he gives me what I assume he thinks is a reassuring smile, I force a grimace back. His blackened teeth may be surrounded by bleeding, cracked gums, but I’m sure my face isn’t looking its best either. I need to stop focusing on his negative points and concentrate on each task at hand, as it comes.

I dash inside, whipping my top off as I move. I yelp a little as it tears at my wound, but continue pulling regardless of the pain. I
need
to see what’s going on with it, and as I’ve already spotted a grimy-looking mirror, this might be my only chance.

“Urgh!” I cry out at first sight of it. It’s so revolting that retching is the only appropriate reaction. I can’t help but think that it
really
doesn’t look like a cut, but then it doesn’t quite look like a bite either. I’m not quite sure what it is. It’s all bruised—yellowish and purple—and the amount of blood that’s
still
pouring out of it is ridiculous. The smell emanating off of it is like nothing I’ve ever encountered before. “I need a doctor,” I mutter to myself in a panicked tone. If I don’t get some antibiotics to ward off whatever infection this is, then I’m going to end up with blood poisoning or something equally as awful.

I’m going to have to suck it up and ring an ambulance as soon as I make it home. If I just make it
really
clear that it isn’t AM13, hopefully I’ll be able to avoid the specialist medical facilities.

I start the tap running so I can splash some cold water on my face. I just need something to refresh me while I come up with some miracle plan to help me with this, but the water that runs out is just a thick, gooey, brown sludge. Disappointment shoots through me. Surely water should still be running as normal? After all, everyone in their homes will need running water. Plus, it was certainly okay back at the petrol station. Maybe these toilets were deemed an unnecessary waste, that no one would need them.

I wish now more than ever that I was inside somewhere, safe. With TV and water and a warm bed. I’d give
anything
right now for a cup of tea and a hot meal. I wouldn’t even be fussy about what I’d eat—even those vile meatballs I was forced to consume the other day seem appealing.

I pull my top back on over my head, taking a lot more care this time. If I just get through
this
, all will be okay. As soon as I’m home, I’ll be able to fix some of the things that have gone wrong on this journey. Standing here, staring at a gross, filthy version of myself, mooning over all that I don’t have, is getting me nowhere.

I suck in one last deep breath before making my way outside. Mike is still in exactly the same position he was when I left him. He’s staring silently and thoughtfully into space, a madness swirling behind his eyes. An icy heat makes its way up my body as I watch the cold, blank expression take over his face as he finally spots me. There’s just
something
in the look that he gives me that makes me desperately uncomfortable.

But then another demeanour overtakes him. “All right to move?” he asks in his normal, chatty voice. It’s as if he’s switched back into the pleasant, helpful, upbeat person that he’s been playing the entire time he’s been by my side.

I nod, trying to shake off the negative attitude, but it refuses to budge. It insists on remaining deep in the pit of my stomach.

***

We walk and walk and walk, sandwiched between a road and a train line, actually doing quite well with the progression of my journey. I’m just finishing up telling Mike everything about my journey so far, trying to keep it all friendly between us. I don’t want him to suspect that I don’t trust him. “Keeping hidden is vital, obviously from the infected, but also the authorities—oh, but of course you already know that!” I giggle as if I’m an airhead. If he can play a character, then I can too. If I need to act like I’m dumb to survive and outwit him, then that’s what I’ll do.

My hint works and he does exactly what I want him to. He takes over the conversation, telling me about his own travels. “Yes. The three people I was with—the ones I mentioned before—well, they were my girlfriend, Maya, and her younger sisters. We were actually on the way to their parents’ house when we were caught.” He stops for a moment, taking in a deep breath, as if this is difficult for him to say. “We all lived together in university housing. Her sisters were a year younger than her, twins.” He says this quickly, as if I’m going to doubt his story by picking holes. “Obviously we’d heard about the AM13 virus, but didn’t take too much notice. I don’t think anybody did at first.” I don’t tell him anything about my original discovery of the video, even though this is the perfect time. Something is telling me to keep that information inside. “Then, two days after the Lockdown was supposed to have started, one of the other guys we lived with came home looking as if he’d been beaten to a pulp, and acting all crazy. Maya phoned the police immediately, while he trashed up the house in a rage. It was totally out of character for him—he was one of those really quiet, studious people. The operator on the phone got all panicky and ended up telling us to leave immediately, to try and find somewhere else to stay for the time being, while they got someone to the scene to sort it all out. As we were rushing out, one of the twins got the message that their mother was in labour, so we decided that it was the best choice for us all to head there.”

“Wow.” I don’t know what to say. I already know this story has a tragic ending, so there aren’t any questions I can ask.

“Yeah, so we quickly came across a police riot van and waved it down. We were actually relieved to see them—we thought they would help us. The officer just got out of his van and shot the three girls without even looking at them.” He tries to disguise the break in his voice with disgust, but the emotion is clearly just too raw. “I was screaming at them, as I’m sure you can imagine. I don’t know how they overpowered me, but before I knew it, I was in the back of the van, and it was taking me to that…
place
.”

I suddenly feel incredibly terrible. His story must be true—it matches up with so much of the police brutality that I’ve witnessed myself. I can’t believe how much this man has been through. He saw his girlfriend and her family members killed, he got taken away to somewhere strange and then had God knows what done to him. He’s been through a million times worse than me, and all I’ve done is judge him and assume the worst. His odd behaviour is probably post-traumatic stress disorder, or something similar!

“I—” I start, but he surprises me by continuing with his story.

“I don’t remember too much after that.” He stares down at his feet. “I was in that cage, watching the scientists continually bringing in victims of the virus—and they were all being locked up, just like me. Some of them seemed healthy at first, but they quickly turned too. I kept thinking I was going to be next, but by some miracle, it never seemed to happen.”

“Maybe you were the one uninfected they kept—the control,” I say. Surely he would know by now if he was infected, so it must be a good sign that he’s displaying none of the symptoms.

“Possibly. I mean, they took a
lot
of blood samples from me, but they did from everyone. I asked. I asked the scientists all the time, but none of them even acknowledged my existence.” A shudder runs through him as he remembers the horrors. That place still gives me the creeps and I wasn’t there for very long. It must be so much worse for Mike.

I wonder what happened when the scientists returned to find the building empty—if they didn’t get attacked on the way. If they died, it’ll serve them right for treating Mike so badly, but if they’re the only hope we have for a cure, then we might find ourselves in a
lot
of trouble.

“I’d actually given up hope of ever surviving.” Mike grins weakly at me. “I knew I’d seen too much for them to just let me go. But then you came along to light up my life, like an angel!” As he laughs at his silly joke, I find myself warming to him, and not just because of his compliments, but because he’s just so
human
. I’ve been demonising him because he seems a little strange, and that’s really unfair.

“Shall we stop to eat?” I eventually ask, hunger gnawing away in my stomach. I quickly pull a can of beef curry out of my backpack, opening it and embracing the mouth-watering smell. It seems crazy to me now that I spent so much time limiting my diet to a vegetarian one. All I seem to crave is meat, so obviously my body needs it!

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

The next couple of days are just a cycle of endless walking. Everything hurts now, even my lungs. Breathing has become a phenomenal challenge. Jake’s estimations of how long this journey was going to take seem way off. I have no idea exactly how long I’ve been going, but it feels like a hell of a lot longer than five days.

During this time, we don’t come close to any infected, but we still see hundreds. I become positive that they’re multiplying rapidly as the days go on, but I’m not sure how. The only plausible explanation is that the Lockdown has failed, but that’s a possibility that I don’t want to face. I just can’t imagine where that will leave us.

The only thing that seems to be going our way is our presence doesn’t seem to be attracting the attention of the infected at all. It’s as if we’re
just
outside of their radar. Fortunately this means that we can just carry on as if they aren’t there. If we had to hide every two minutes, I don’t think I’d ever make it home!

Because of this, we spend all of our nights sleeping outside now. Trying to find somewhere to break into seems like an unnecessary stress if we aren’t in any danger. On top of the infected ignoring us, there have also been no sightings of the authorities. This just proves the theory that I don’t want to accept. Clearly something has gone terribly wrong, but I can’t dwell on that. Not yet. One step at a time—that’s the only way I’m going to be able to do this.

I occasionally worry that we’re getting sloppy, and I pray this won’t be our downfall. Fortunately, these worries no longer prevent me from sleeping. In fact, I’m actually managing to get a lot of rest. It’s as if I’m blacking out. There’s no thoughts, no feelings, no affect from the cold…I must finally be acclimatising to these crazy conditions. I’m finally toughening up!

Mike and I no longer have any issues—mainly because I’ve stopped caring about things that
might
go wrong, and I’m zoned in on the end goal. We’re stumbling along together, sometimes talking, sometimes silent, both simply moving. At one point, I thought he was about to tell me he was leaving. Sure, I rescued him and he made me a promise, but he
must
have his own journey to go on. I would have understood if he’d gone, but I was relieved when he said something completely unrelated. I definitely would have missed him.

He hasn’t once mentioned how slow I’m being, even if it must be bugging him, which is just another thing that I’m extremely grateful to him for. I just
can’t
get my body to go any quicker, I’m so tired all the time. Even more so than before. I’m not sure if it’s the emotional upheaval, the grieving, or simply the sheer amount of walking, but I’m finding it all really difficult these days. I just want it to all be over.

During the one time that we’re forced to walk through a town, I find myself staring aimlessly into shop windows, trying to keep a grasp on reality, on my old life. I try to think and behave like I did before all this happened, but it just feels like a character, not connected to me in any way. Why was I so obsessed with pointless things? Stuff that’s
so
useless—fashion, gossip, the few pounds I wanted to lose. It all just seems like
such
a waste of time.

“I don’t think we’re far away from your parents’ home now.” Mike has mentioned how close we are to my destination a few times, which is weird because I don’t remember mentioning exactly where we’re going. I can’t recall a lot these days, though; it’s as if I’m losing myself to fatigue.

As I look around, trying to see where we are this time, I realise that I can’t focus because my eyes feel weirdly steamed up. I nod, not having a clue where we are, so having to trust Mike’s words.

I can feel the conversation hanging in the air, and the obligation to extend an offer overcomes me. I don’t want to say these words, but they spill out of my mouth anyway. “What are you doing after?” I want to slap my palm over my lips, to stop me from continuing, but it’s too late. The can of worms has already been opened. “I mean, I’m sure my parents won’t turn you away in
this
…” I can almost hear the uncertainty in my tone.

“I don’t think your family would approve.” He laughs, almost sinisterly. “I have my own plans anyway.”

I don’t insist or question him further, but that answer was odd enough to have me wondering what he means.

***

During the infinite silence, I often find my mind drifting towards thoughts of Jake’s family. I’m still absolutely determined to make sure they know what happened to him—that’s one of my main driving factors. They must be frantic with worry by now, even if they did ignore his calls in the beginning. Things have gotten much bigger than a row between exes at this point.

I certainly don’t want Harry to grow up thinking his dad just forgot about him or didn’t care when he tried
so
hard to find them. That’s not fair on him, or Jake’s memory, and there’s only me left to do anything about it. I still blame myself for Jake’s death, and although I can’t change that now, I
can
do this.

Thinking about Jake always brings with it a crippling sense of sadness. I will never
ever
be able to get over what happened to him. It was so gory and brutal—easily the worst thing I’ve seen in my life. I always avoided watching horror films because I can’t stand the sight of blood, and it was like watching my worst fear happening right in front of me. His body was completely tattered and shredded to pieces. In the end, there was literally nothing left. I couldn’t have even buried him if I wanted to. It was unbelievable.

The worst thing is I can’t help but think I could have
really
fallen in love with him, given half a chance. Now that opportunity has been stripped away from me, and I’ll never be able to get it back. He’s gone, and so is our potential future.

I think back to the happier times we had together, in an attempt to bring a smile to my face. I remember making
such
a fool out of myself in front of him, desperate to get his attention. I spent so much time talking about him, planning my outfits, thinking about what I should do next. All with the aim of making him like me. That all culminated in me sending that stupid email—the one I
knew
was going to end up ruining my life. Granted, I didn’t think it would end up like
this
!

Then I drift over to the memory of the kiss. I was so happy after that finally happened. I was convinced it was the start of something real. So much happened afterwards, sidetracking us, distracting us away from what could be. It almost restarted, though, the night at the petrol station…

Oh my God!

The thought hits me so hard that I stop dead still where I am. That night in the petrol station was crazy, mad, spur of the moment, no thinking or planning, just living…

Except now I’m thinking that I could be pregnant.

Is that even possible? Could I
really
be pregnant right now? I’m not sure, I don’t know anything about babies, I’ve never had
any
interest in them at all. On the rare occasion that someone has tried to talk to me about anything to do with this subject, I’ve always zoned out. It was one of those things I figured I’d learn about when the time came.

Crazy emotions, meat cravings, tiredness…aren’t they all supposed to be signs? I’ve got no idea and I’m
really
starting to panic. I’m pretty sure we didn’t even consider protection in our drunken haze, which I’m now realising was a particularly dumb move. What an idiot. Stupid, stupid idiot! I can feel a sort of iciness in my spine as my blood is running hot and cold.

“Are you okay? Leah? Leah?” Eventually Mike’s voice begins to penetrate my shock barrier. I didn’t even realise I was mumbling to myself like an insane person.

He sits me down and hands me a bottle of water. I allow the liquid to trickle down my throat, soothing me and calming me down as it runs through me. Mike starts to talk naturally, as if he thinks this will help me return to normalcy.

As I feel my heart rate return to a calmer level, I start to explain my story to him so he can help me. This dark eyed, crazy looking man is the last person in the world that I want to tell this embarrassing issue to, but it isn’t like I have many options available to me. I can feel my cheeks heating up in a blush as I attempt to give minimal details about the problem. I know that it’s silly to feel this way, but I can’t help it.

“And…where’s Jake now?” he asks me as I finish speaking.

I don’t trust myself to say the words aloud, so instead I simply shake my head. At this, the tears start to really cascade down my cheeks and I feel myself wanting to scream. What the hell have I done? I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a baby, especially one without a father. This is insane.

“Okay, well there’s no point in worrying without definitive evidence. I’ll go and find you a test now. There must be a pharmacy nearby.” He glances nervously towards me. “You just…stay here.”

“Yeah, all right.” I take in a few deep breaths as I watch him leave. As soon as he vanishes from sight, I realise I should have asked him to also have a look for something that could help me with my shoulder wound. It’s getting unbearably itchy now. I find myself scratching it constantly, even when I’m asleep.

As I sit alone on this rock, I’m vaguely aware of all the infected wandering around, not too far away from me. In the past, I would have been petrified about this, but they don’t bother me too much anymore. I’m actually really used to their presence. Their disgusting, vile presence. Luckily they aren’t too concerned with me either, because I’d be no use fighting them off in this state!