Contagious and Deathly Contagious

A PERMUTED PRESS BOOK

ISBN: 978-1-61868-517-9

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-535-3

THE CONTAGIUM SERIES BOOKS I and II

Contagious and Deathly Contagious

All Rights Reserved

©2015 Emily Goodwin

Cover art by:

Dean Samed, Conzpiracy Digital Arts

PUBLISHED AT SMASHWORDS

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author or publisher.

Permuted Press

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Franklin, TN 37067

http://permutedpress.com

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the many people who made this book possible by answering my many questions about ‘medically realistic’ zombies, survival skills, hunting, explosives, self-defense skills, weapons, and the workings of the military. Dad, thank you for helping me with ‘zombie target practice’ every weekend so I could learn how to shoot like Orissa. Thank you to everyone who supported and encouraged me to never stop writing and who read and reviewed this book. And finally, I’d like to thank my husband for always having faith in me.

To my husband,

Thank you for being my best friend and

believing in everything I do…as well as putting up with my weirdness.

I love you

"I shall set my face toward the infernal regions,

I shall raise up the dead, and they will eat the living,

I will make the dead outnumber the living!"

-The Epic of Gilgamesh

Table of contents

PART I

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

PART II

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

PART I

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

PART II

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

PART I

CHAPTER 1

I stumbled my way up the worn, carpeted stairs of Aunt Jenny’s small apartment building. It was one-thirty in the morning and I was drunk. My hand slipped off the doorknob more than once and, realizing it was locked, I dropped my purse so I could dig through the jumbled mess for my keys. I finally fished them out from the bottom. I wobbled when I stood, teetering on tall, black heels. The door swung open just as I reached for the lock.

Orissa! Aunt Jenny cried, her hand flying to her chest.

Sorry, I mumbled.

It’s ok, she breathed, looking relieved. I just wasn’t expecting you so early. Well, early for you.

Echoes of muffled, angry voices floated down the hall.

They’ve been at it all night, Aunt Jenny sighed and ushered me in.

Did you wait up for me? I asked, as I shakily removed my shoes.

Yes, well, no. I told you I wasn’t going to keep tabs. But I worry.

I can take care of myself.

Oh, yeah. And you can bail yourself out of jail.

I glared at Aunt Jenny. That was over a month ago. Can’t we please drop it?

Yes, sorry. She shook her head. You should have called me though. I would have picked you up.

I shrugged. Thanks, but I don’t want you to go out of your way. Maybe next time. I tripped over the ottoman as I crossed the small living room.

Had enough? she asked, with just a hint of laughter in her voice.

I, I began, standing up straight, was doing my part to stimulate the economy. Well, I was doing my part to make sure others stimulated the economy. My money hadn’t paid for any of the liquor I’d consumed.

I should have opened a bar, Aunt Jenny joked. She gathered up her dishes from the coffee table. Did you have fun at least?

Yes. I rocked karaoke. And I got two numbers.

Two?

I smiled and nodded.

Aunt Jenny just laughed and shook her head. So how come you came home early?

There was a fight, I blurted, my filter turned off due to overindulgence in alcohol. There were always fights in bars. But this fight was…different. I had just talked to him, the tall guy in the blue shirt, before he snapped. We were having a good conversation—and he had bought me my third drink for the night—when he doubled over, holding his stomach, and complaining about being in pain. Not wanting to get puked on, I wandered to the other side of the bar where I could watch him from a distance. Then his pain had given over to rage, the kind of rage that brings to mind frothing dogs. No one knew what had caused it, but suddenly his hands wrapped around the bouncer’s throat. It took three guys to pull him off. Blue Shirt was sputtering, screaming, clawing; he even tried to bite the guy. I skipped out right as the police showed up. From the parking lot I watched them tase Blue Shirt to subdue him. And my abs hurt, I covered up, not wanting to discuss the fight.

Your abs hurt? Aunt Jenny raised an eyebrow incredulously.

Yeah, I must have worked out too hard. I put my hand over my right side; briefly I recalled Blue Shirt. His madness had started with pain, too. I’m feeling kinda nauseous, so I’m gonna go to bed.

Ok, night. Remember I work in the morning, so I’ll see you after, alright?

Ok. Night. I weaved my way to my tiny room, stripped out of my clothes, and collapsed onto the bed. Too tired to shower, I fell asleep, not waking until after ten the next morning—sick from more than a mere hangover.

The ER was so busy that I had to wait over an hour just to freaking get my blood drawn. Pissed, nauseous, and tired, I refused to put on the stupid paper robe. My nurse was old and it didn’t take ESP to sense that she wanted to retire. I wanted to tell her to get over herself and be thankful she at least had a job. Since the Depression had hit, many were in need of gainful employment. Seeing the needle in her hand made me change my mind.

I’m angry, I thought, but not like Blue Shirt. Who wouldn’t be angry? The ER wasn’t exactly a fun place to be.

There’s no yes or no test, the nurse explained, when she came back with the results another hour later. Your white blood cell count is high, so you may need to have your appendix removed.

The nurse then put in an order for a CT scan to confirm her suspicions. When she came back, after what felt like hours, she informed me that it was indeed appendicitis.

Lovely. I didn’t have health insurance and I sure as hell didn’t want to pay for surgery, but what choice did I have?

Put this on, she said gruffly, tossing the ugly robe on my bed. I rolled my eyes but obliged, wanting to get this whole thing over with. I was in a lot of pain by now, but I was also relieved to discover that it was only my appendix. I changed just in time for my crabby-ass nurse to retrieve me for surgery. I curiously looked around the hospital as she wheeled me down the hall. I made eye contact with a tall, dark haired man as he exited a room. I was instantly drawn to his big, blue eyes. He smiled politely at me, revealing perfect white teeth. I was so mesmerized by his beauty I barely noticed the green scrubs and lab coat he was wearing. If he was my doctor, surgery might not be so bad after all.

My mouth was dry. My head was fuzzy. I didn’t know why I was in so much pain, and I was beginning to forget where I was. My eyes just wouldn’t open so I listened and heard nothing. Every breath took effort and I tried to call out for help. But no one came. It felt like hours passed before I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up the second time, a young, dark skinned nurse was adjusting my IV.

Good morning, Orissa! she said brightly. Surgery went well.

Did I really need it out? Damn it, even though I had just woken up from surgery, money was still my main concern.

Yes. It was close to bursting, she informed me.

Oh. Good, I guess.

Your mom is waiting outside. Do you want me to get her now?

"My mom?"

Petite, short brown hair…that’s not her?

No. She’s my aunt. Yes, she can come in.

Aunt Jenny came in with a vase full of flowers. I wanted to glare at her and tell her it was a waste of money, but I only smiled, too weak to argue. She gushed over me for a bit, making sure everything was ok. She promised she’d be back after work even though I told her I’d be fine on my own. The hospital had cable, after all.

With the pain medication, my time spent in the hospital went by quickly. I caught a glimpse of the hot doctor again as I was leaving, making me wish I had come in my bar clothes rather than purple pajama pants.

For the next five days, I did nothing but park my ass on the couch or in bed. Since no new shows were being aired, I amused myself by watching reruns of Family Guy, flipping to the news stations during commercials.

I had nightmares about the broadcasts I had seen, many reporting a huge increase in unexplained deaths and small, and seemingly random, outbursts of violence across the country. Friends turned on friends, and one witness described her attacker’s behaviors as being like those of Blue Shirt. It freaked me out and made me very glad I had insisted on taking martial arts lessons instead of ballet like my mother had wished.

In the small hours, it occurred to me that I might be like Blue Shirt, like the people on the news. Maybe it was just moving through me slower. It. Whatever it was…

Did I feel my temper rising?

Only all the time…

CHAPTER 2

A little over two weeks after my surgery I forced myself out of bed. I was no longer worried that I was like the people on the news since so much time had passed. I slowly cleaned the apartment and even made banana bread out of the browning bananas that had been forgotten on top of the refrigerator.

I had a follow up appointment at the hospital at two-thirty that afternoon. I hadn’t dressed in anything but pajamas, done my hair, or worn makeup in the last two weeks. Deciding that putting effort into my appearance today would help cheer me up, I slipped into my favorite jeans and black t-shirt with a brown leather jacket over top. I traded the heels I initially put on for a pair of leather boots, tall and flat. Since it wasn’t that far, I decided I’d walk; halfway there I felt so drained I wasted my extra cash on a cab.

Feeling pissy from pain, I hastily got directions to where I needed to go. I hated elevators. I was always afraid of getting stuck. And the hospital was more crowded than usual. All I needed was to get trapped inside an overly stuffed box full of strangers. Despite my pain, I took the stairs. Going slow, I was concentrating so hard on not acknowledging that I hurt that I didn’t notice him until I was very near. Blood ran down a gash on his cheek. Hands bound behind him in handcuffs, he head butted his police escort and madly dove down the stairs.

We collided. I desperately reached out for the railing—without success. He brought me down with him and, when we stopped tumbling, he crouched over me, drooling and growling. There were collective shouts of panic as people watched, gaping open-mouthed at the lunatic above me. The only items in my possession were my purse and a notebook. My purse was somewhere underneath me, but the notebook was still clutched in my death grip. Not knowing what else to do, I slapped him across the face with the notebook, grimacing at the blood and drool that splattered.

While it wasn’t my first weapon of choice, it worked. The guy was stunned, giving me enough time to knee him in the balls and roll away. I sprung up and kicked him hard in the side, immobilizing him long enough for the cop to recover his assailant. I backed away, my vision fading. A strong hand caught me just as I passed out. I remember seeing his big blue eyes and his mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear what he said.

I came to in an exam room. My purse and notebook were on a chair next to the hard, foam bed. Stiffly, I got up, gathered my things and opened the door.

Whoa, where do you think you’re going? a deep male voice asked in an alluring Irish accent.

I spun around; not a smart move at the moment. Blood rushed to my head and I felt dizzy again. The doctor with the pretty blue eyes put his arm out, thinking I’d faint again, but I held my ground. He led me back into the room. After I was lying on the uncomfortable bed, he said, You were just in here a few weeks ago for surgery, right?

Yeah.

Appendectomy?

Yep.

He carefully touched my side. Does this hurt?

I had my stomach sliced open and part of my guts ripped out. Of course it hurts.

He laughed. Does it hurt anymore than it did before you fell?

No. I sat up. It hurt before then too. But my back didn’t.

You seem to be healing fast, he said, as he inspected the incision site. But I’d still like to run some more tests and do a CT scan to make sure the fall didn’t damage you. You could be bleeding internally. He looked into my eyes. Did you hit your head?

Uh, yeah, I think. It happened so fast. The guy diving down a flight of stairs. The blood. The primal growls rumbling in his throat. There was something else, too. It was in his eyes, well, kind of. It was more like there wasn’t anything in his eyes. It was as if all the humanity was gone and all that was left was raw, animal instinct. I forced a half smile. That was a stupid thing to think. There is no way I could tell all that from the two seconds I’d had to look at the maniac.

What was with that guy?

I’m not really sure, Dr. Blue Eyes said, looking at the floor. He was lying. Why don’t you change into a gown and I’ll get you set up for a scan right away. Do you want anything for pain?

Yeah, I’d like that.

Have any allergies?

I shook my head. Nope.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle. He filled a Dixie cup with water from a bottle and handed me the pills. He closed the door and left. Assuming the pills were strong painkillers, I popped them into my mouth, willing them to take effect right away. I carefully folded my clothes on the chair and put on the stupid gown. At least this gown was more substantial than the last one.

To keep from feeling freaked out, I rummaged through the drawers to find paper towels. Using hand sanitizer, I cleaned the bodily fluids from the notebook. When I was satisfied it was clean enough, I sat back down and opened it, flipping nostalgically through the pages.

Someone screamed.

It startled me, and I jumped. The quick movements hurt my recovering abdomen. Another scream was followed by a loud bang. Half tempted to get up and see what was going on, I reminded myself that this was a hospital and screaming probably wasn’t uncommon.

I turned to the page in my notebook, smiling at what I was reading. I was starting to feel kind of sleepy from the pills; my mind felt at ease and my muscles were relaxed. Then, all of a sudden, something clattered to the floor outside the door. Someone screamed again: a long, harrowing, horror movie scream. Then a gun fired.

My blood ran cold. What the hell? I gripped the notebook tight and swallowed. The screaming started again, this time coming from multiple people. Three consecutive gunshots put an end to their shouts. I heard more panicked yelps as people ran up and down the hall. What sounded like heavy objects clattered to the floor. I tossed the notebook to the side and carefully put my legs over the edge of the bed. Slowly, I inched toward the door.

Something thrust against it and I jumped. Pain radiated through my side and I feared I had ripped my stitches out. I smelled it before the high-pitched beeping confirmed it: smoke. I needed to get out, even if it meant facing what was out there. I grabbed the cold round knob and twisted. The door didn’t open; something had fallen in front of it, blocking its path. I was locked in. Smoke billowed in from the vents. Panic rose in my chest. Desperately, I slammed my body against the door. Every move hurt. Again and again, I tried forcing the door open. My vision blurred. My legs buckled. Fuck, I swore, wishing I hadn’t taken the pain pills. Then I lost consciousness.

It was the emergency sirens that woke me. I sat up, a migraine threatening to form, and realized I wasn’t in the exam room anymore. I was in what looked like a basement, lying on a cot on the floor. Two backup floodlights were the only sources of illumination. I was surrounded by many other people, patients by the looks of it. Children cried right along with the howling of the sirens. I ran my hands through my hair trying to make sense of what was happening.

It was bad, that much I could tell. That was as far as I got, however, since the medicine still poisoned my veins. Then I saw him, looking all calm and professional in his scrubs and lab coat. A fire burned inside me, fueling my ability to get up. I attempted to angrily march over to Dr. Blue Eyes but staggered along the way.

You! I shouted. You drugged me! What the hell is going on? What are you doing to us?

Alarmed, he rose up and moved away from the crying girl he was soothing. Calm down. It’ll be ok. He put his hand on my arm. I jerked it away and shoved him.

"Be ok? What, after you surgically attach us to each other? Yeah, I’ve seen the Human Centipede, you creep!"

He took hold of my arms. I tried to fight him off, but I was too weak. My head pounded and any twisting hurt my side.

Calm down and I’ll explain, he whispered. You’re scaring everyone more than they already are.

They should be scared. He’s trying to kill us! I shouted, able to break free from his hold. He’s going to kill us!

Quiet! They’ll hear you!

Good! Hey! Hey! I screamed, hoping someone would hear me. The exit sign loomed ahead like a mirage. If only I could get out, maybe I could get help. Come back and save everyone. Dr. Blue Eyes grabbed me again, this time with more force. He held me back, telling me to calm down over and over. Still, I fought. I might have been weak and drugged to all hell, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I’m sorry, he said, not meeting my eyes. Then I felt the needle pierce my skin.

CHAPTER 3

Once again, I woke up from a drug-induced sleep—this time in restraints. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but this was very different than my wild night with Danny Merdock—a story for another time. A young nurse sat on the floor several feet in front of me. She hugged her knees, slowly rocking back and forth.

Hello, I croaked.

She turned, tears streaming down her face.

What…what is happening? I managed to ask.

She shook her head. ‘And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the powers of heaven shall be shaken.’ She turned away and went back to rocking.

Ok, not much help there. I pulled against the restraints, noticing for the first time that I was hooked up to an IV. How long was I out? Something moved next to me. I turned to see a small set of green eyes staring at me.

Can I help you? I asked the girl. She had to be no older than ten.

I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, she told me. She clutched a stuffed animal close to her chest. Her ears were pierced; pink sapphires barely glinted in the dull light. Her hair and eyebrows were gone and she was very frail.

Why?

You seem strong. I think you can save us.

Maybe. You need to undo these buckles for me, though. Then I’ll get us out of here, I lied.

I don’t want to leave here.

Why? I asked again.

We’re safe here! she whispered.

Safe? Safe from what?

The monsters. She looked around nervously. Heavy footfalls made her squeal and dart away.

A shadow fell over my bed. You’re not going to attack me again, are you? There was no mistaking that Irish accent.

Obviously not, I retorted.

Promise and I’ll let you go.

Why, so you can drug me again? I asked.

I don’t want to hurt you, he said and almost sounded honest.

Please. Then why else am I trapped in a basement tied to a bed?

Let me explain, he said gently.

Explain away.

I wasn’t like Blue Shirt, I told myself. These people weren’t like him either!

He sat at the foot of my small bed. I’m sure you’ve noticed the violence. He didn’t wait for a response before continuing. There are…were things about it that we doctors were aware of that you—the public—weren’t. The Center for Disease Control asked us to keep it quiet. They didn’t want anyone to panic. They said they’d get it under control.

Will you get to the point?

The point is that the violence is caused by a virus.

I wished I could sit up and dubiously stare down Dr. Blue Eyes. I wasn’t buying his bullshit. A virus?

Yes. He twisted so he could look me in the eye. Have you ever heard of Phineas Gage?

Yeah, I said, getting a flashback to Psych 101. The guy that got the railroad spike blown through his head.

Good. And do you remember what was so significant about him?

Uh, he lived?

True, but the damage to his brain caused his personality to change.

Ok, I remember that part. What does this have to do with anything?

The virus. It causes damage to the frontal lobes—

And then people go crazy.

Right.

Holy shit. Blue Shirt…the guy on the stairs! Ok, but why am I down here? I still hadn’t fully decided to believe this crazy story yet.

This is the part I’m sorry about. He cast his eyes down. We’re safe down here. Everyone else left.

Why would they leave? As the words slipped from my lips, I realized the answer. If there really was some crazy-making virus, everyone would leave. It would be mass panic, just like in the movies. Never mind.

I’m Padraic Sheehan, he said, getting up and unbuckling the restraints. In a swift fluid movement, the IV was pulled from my vein.

Orissa. I sat up and rubbed my wrists, examining the room. We were definitely in a basement. There were several beds, a few cots, and mostly blankets scattered around the room. Old medical supplies, broken wheel chairs, and dusty boxes cluttered the already crowded room. The people occupying the makeshift beds were ragged, to say the least. A handful were hooked up to machines, many were bandaged, and others looked too old to move. Over in the corner, a couple sat huddled together, holding their new baby. I got why we were here. Why didn’t you leave?

Padraic smiled softly. I couldn’t leave my patients, he said. An old man a few beds down from me started wheezing. Padraic got up and hurried over, doing his best to soothe the man’s pain.

Trying to fathom what little information I had been given, I ran my eyes over every single person in the room. There seemed to be one other doctor: an old, gray haired woman who fell into the ‘too old to run’ category and three nurses. I counted forty-seven patients, including myself and excluding the baby.

The little girl was back. She set her stuffed cat on my bed and stared at me again.

I’m Zoe, she told me.

Hi, Zoe. I’m Orissa.

That’s a pretty name, she said, climbing up on my bed.

I shrugged. It’s a city in India.

Where you born there?

Nope. Conceived there.

What does that mean?

It means my parents were in India when…you know what, never mind. You’ll figure it out when you’re older.

You don’t look sick.

I’m not, not really, I guess. I had my appendix taken out.

That sounds like it hurt.

Nah, it wasn’t so bad, I promised.

Did your mommy and daddy leave you too? she asked. She walked her cat up and down the bed.

They left a long time ago. Well, that was partially true. It was really my decision to stay behind. Zoe, have you seen the monsters?

She nodded and hugged her cat.

Can you tell me what they look like? I asked gently.

They look like people, ‘cuz that’s what they are. But they want to eat your brains.

Oh, thanks. This kid had obviously seen too many horror movies. I needed to talk to an adult, preferably one who’d seen the ‘monsters.’ I also needed my clothes.

A middle-aged woman walked over to us. She was dressed in pink scrub pants and a butterfly patterned shirt.

Hey, Zoe Boey. Whatcha doing?

Hi, Hilary! I’m talking to Orissa. She hasn’t seen the monsters yet.

Ah. Hopefully she never will. Have you eaten yet?

When Zoe shook her head, Hilary instructed her to find Jason and eat dinner. Without giving me a chance to ask any questions, Hilary led me to a small, dirty bathroom. It worked, she assured me, though the water in the shower never got hot. It certainly felt good to be clean. I begrudgingly put the hospital gown back on, happy Hilary had given me a pair of bleach stained scrub bottoms to go under it, and padded my way back into our little group.

A teenage boy handed me a sandwich and it was only when I looked at the plain, white bread that I realized how hungry I was. I scarfed it down, draining the bottle of apple juice that came along with it. Surprisingly I was tired, but sleep could wait; I needed answers first. I sought out Padraic, who was changing a bloody bandage on a sandy haired man. He saw me waiting and nodded in acknowledgment. I retreated back to my bed, which was really a gurney, and sat. A few minutes later, Padraic joined me.

You need to tell me more, I pleaded.

I don’t know much more.

Then tell me what you do know.

Ok. He nodded. A few weeks ago we started seeing odd, isolated cases of what seemed to be psychotic behavior. At the same time, an alarming number of people came in complaining of headaches and dying within twenty-four hours of admittance. We didn’t see the connection then. We know now it’s the same virus. It seems to do three things: make you insane, kill you, or do nothing.

How is it spread?

We don’t know for sure yet. I’m guessing through the water. It started on the west coast and now it’s here.

My heart fell into a bottomless pit. It’s nationwide?

Yes.

H-how long was I out for?

Almost three days, he admitted, sounding ashamed.

What the hell, Padraic? I jumped off the gurney, wincing in pain. Why?

He waved his hand at me. That’s why. I thought it would give you time to heal. You seem to be quite the fighter. I didn’t think you’d rest.

You’re right I’m not going to rest! I want out of here! I stared at him, for once in my life, unable to come up with anything to argue with. Sighing, I sat back down. Tell me about these ‘monsters’.

It comes on suddenly, with very few symptoms. The victim might seem agitated or angry, but then they…they just snap, he snapped his fingers, like that. And aren’t human anymore. Like a rabid dog.

Is there a cure?

His blue eyes met mine. No, we’ve only been able to autopsy a few of the bodies before the CDC took them away, but the virus completely kills parts of the brain.

Then how are they alive?

It seems the virus doesn’t affect the parts of the brain, right away, that control basic life skills, like breathing and eating. All aspects of humanity: drive, memory, and emotion are gone. The victims are never the same and never will be. See, the virus turns them into angry, raging monsters.

And then what?

The central nervous system starts to shut down. I haven’t seen anyone who has had the virus for that long, though.

Lovely.

Are you alright, Orissa? This is a lot of information to take in at once.

Yeah, I said quickly. I’m no stranger to horrible things.

If you say so.

How many? I asked suddenly.

How many what?

How many people got infected?

I’m not sure. After the outbreak, everyone panicked. We were told to stay in our houses and that the local authorities would send out buses to take us to quarantines.

But you knew they wouldn’t take us sick, injured people, I said bitterly.

Right.

So you stayed?

Yes.

With the lot that’s gonna die?

He narrowed his eyes a bit. You don’t know that. Not everyone here is at death’s door.

I looked around the room once more. True, there were several people who, like me, were on the mend. A few more didn’t look sick or injured at all. Maybe they were here with someone, a family member perhaps, and couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them behind.

Could any of us be infected? I asked, apprehensive to hear the response.

No. It’s been long enough; we would have known by now. My guess is that most of us are resistant to the virus.

Good. I nervously twisted a section of my dark hair around my fingers. So what’s our plan?

Survive.

I know that. We can’t stay in this basement forever though.

We have food that will last us…awhile. As long as the generators stay on, what is in the freezers will tide us over. The storage for the cafeteria is down here.

And when the food runs out?

I’m hoping someone will come rescue us by then.

Hopefully, I agreed ruefully.

The room we slept in was pretty secure. It was dark and cavernous, but it only had one exit and a heavy metal door guarded it. To get to the food storage, we had to walk down a dark hallway past the boiler room. To conserve what little power we had left, all unnecessary lights had been shut off. No one ever went to get food alone. Jason, a seventeen-year-old boy, had taken over the role of patrol guard. Armed with a twisted piece of metal, he made sure the coast was clear. As far as anyone knew, our little party had made it into the basement without being followed, shutting the main doors before anyone had a chance to come in.

Sonja, Jason’s younger sister, had taken upon herself the position of keeping up morale. She organized activities for the kids and tried her best to entertain us. For the next week, I allowed myself to fade into the background. I was still weak, my body still in pain. I didn’t want to think about anything or anyone. I didn’t want to wonder what had happened to Aunt Jenny. I lied to Padraic about being in pain so he would give me more morphine. If I wasn’t sleeping, I was talking to Zoe. She devised a storytelling game where we alternated adding words to some sort of epic tale. Maybe I was in shock. Maybe the truth of the matter hadn’t hit me since I hadn’t seen any of it. While others cried and prayed, I sat calmly by myself, sticking to my routine of eating breakfast, doing what little yoga my body could handle, and getting my morphine shot.

One night, Megan and Heath’s newborn son wouldn’t stop crying. No one could fault her or the baby, but she apologized again and again. I was trying to force myself to pass out when I heard it. The thick, metal door blocked out most of the sound. I sat up, closing my eyes. Yes, I knew I heard it.

There’s someone out there! I whispered. Shhh! I added, when anxious murmurs broke out.

Some thought it was a rescue mission and we were saved. Others, myself included, didn’t trust what was on the other side of the door.

Then a knock.

Hello? a female voice called. Is anyone in there?

Jason and Padraic slowly cracked the door. They looked at each other and nodded, stepping aside to let two ragged girls limp inside. One was dirty and worn, but otherwise unharmed. She helped her bloody friend walk. Hilary rushed over, taking the injured girl into the bathroom to wash out her wounds.

I seemed to be the only one who didn’t trust them. Outsiders, I thought, we didn’t know anything about them, but everyone else saw them as heroes, survivors. Rebecca and her injured friend Karli brought news of the outside world. It wasn’t what any of us wanted to hear.

They guessed about half the population of the town had evacuated. The other people hadn’t been so lucky. They thought that more than half of the remaining had either died or contracted the virus, leaving less than a fourth of the entire population alive. They spoke so mathematically that it was hard to envision the dead bodies that littered the streets. They had survived by hiding in Karli’s little sister’s tree house. Hunger forced them out of the trees. On their search for food, Karli was attacked by one of the ‘monsters.’ By a stroke of luck, they’d found the hospital. Exhausted, both girls slipped into a deep sleep.

No one bothered to keep track of time. There were no windows in the basement, so it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. I assumed my body kept with a fairly consistent cycle and I felt tired at night, around ten or eleven. The girls had shown up several hours past that. I had one quick nightmare about death and turning evil when I heard the slurping. I sat up, pissed that someone had gotten into our carefully rationed food, when I saw her silhouette.

She was standing over Mr. McKanthor, an eighty-something year old man who was dying of cancer. Padraic told me that Mr. McKanthor wouldn’t make it much longer, even with the medications he had been taking. Something splattered on the floor. Thinking it was his IV bag and that Karli was fixing it, I turned over to go back to sleep. But there was something not right. The liquid was dark and thick. I sat up, eyes widening in terror.

Blood. It was blood that covered the floor.

CHAPTER 4

Mr. McKanthor was dead. His head flopped back, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. Karli’s hands were shining with blood. She reached down, rummaged through his intestines, and grabbed onto something that stretched and snapped. She shoved it into her mouth. Frozen in horror, I watched her do it again and again. She was infected. She had gone mad. Zoe calling them monsters wasn’t an exaggeration. My mind raced. I needed to stop her, but with what?

As I mulled it over, Sonja sat up. Hey, what are you doing to— she began, her voice dying with a sharp intake of breath. Then she screamed. Karli growled at the noise and lunged for her. Without thinking, I leapt off my bed. Jason, who was next to his sister, startled awake. He used his body as a shield, blocking Karli from killing Sonja. I was by his side in two seconds, picking up his metal weapon and hitting Karli as hard as possible over the head.

She didn’t react to the pain. She clawed and bit at Jason, who struggled to keep her at arm’s length. I hit her two more times; nothing. It was as if I were hitting her with a pool noodle. Knowing Jason couldn’t fight her off forever, I grabbed her hair and yanked her back. She snarled at me, thrashing blood covered hands into the air.

She crouched, reminding me of an animal stalking prey. Also adapting a predatory mindset, I was ready when she jumped at me again. My foot hit her square in the chest. She gasped for air and stumbled back, tripping over a cot. Her head hit the hard concrete with a thud. My fingers gripped the metal pipe so hard my knuckles turned white. She unnaturally pulled herself up, a rumbling growl coming from deep inside her throat. Her lips snarled and she flung herself forward. I dodged out of the way, grabbed her arm, and spun her face first into the wall.

Nooo! Rebecca screamed from behind me. Ignoring her desperate calls to spare her friend, I advanced on Karli. I didn’t want to kill the girl. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and smacked her head into the brick wall again. She wobbled, attempted to wrap her hands around my throat, but finally sank to the ground.

I heard Rebecca’s sneakers scuffing on the gritty floor. But I didn’t see her launch herself in the air. She landed on my back, knocking the wind out of me. Paralyzed, I lay there in terror. Someone must have pulled her off of me. Padraic’s hand grabbed mine and he yanked me out of the way. I scrambled to my feet, clutching onto Padraic for support. I gasped for breath and turned to see Jason struggling with Rebecca.

Like Karli, she was snarling and growling. Recovered, I sprang forward, pipe still in hand, and drove the pointy end into her stomach. Jason let her go and she collapsed, her body twitching as her blood poured out.

The metal pipe clamored to the ground. I slowly became aware that I wasn’t alone. The children cried and the rest gaped at me in horror. My eyes refused to move off of Rebecca’s dying body. Someone took my hand and gave it a gentle tug. Shaken from my reverie, I faced Padraic.

I…I My voice died as I spoke. Shaking my head, I robotically walked back to my bed.

Little Zoe tiptoed over. You killed the monsters! she practically cheered. You are a hero!

No, I breathed. I hadn’t killed two monsters. I had killed two humans, taking their lives and their souls. It had to be done, right?

Jason, Padraic, and two men I hadn’t bothered to learn the names of moved the bodies out of our safe room. Though I was far from tired I laid back down, pulling the thin sheet over me. Clutching her toy cat, Zoe climbed in next to me.

I feel safe with you, she whispered. I put my arms around her, suddenly feeling very protective of this sick little girl. We didn’t move while the others went about cleaning the blood. They all left me alone and finally, after what felt like an eternity, I fell back asleep.

I didn’t ask for my morphine shot the next morning. I went on with my usual yoga routine, showing Zoe the basics of the Sun Salutation. She stayed close to me while we ate breakfast, which consisted of a small bowl of cereal, powdered milk, and canned fruit. I could feel their eyes on me as I stuck the plastic spoon in my mouth. I couldn’t say I blamed them; for many days I had been portraying a pathetic, weak girl, eating only enough to stay alive, getting my drugs and hiding under the covers. Jason looked at me with a doe-eyed expression I knew all too well. I smiled a tight smile and looked back at my meager meal.

Jason was a good kid. He tried to do everything he could to, not only protect his sister, but the others in the ragged group. I didn’t want him getting mixed up with me or the monsters, as Zoe called them. He was too young, too innocent, to take on that much responsibility.

Is no one gonna talk about this? a strangled voice choked out. It was the young nurse, the one who spouted out biblical end of days shit. She stood, extending her hand and pointing at me. "She killed two people and no one seems to care."

She saved us, Jason defended. You saw it. Those girls we let in… he shook his head. They weren’t human anymore. If Orissa hadn’t killed them then they would have killed us.

You can’t refute that, Padraic agreed. Nor forget that they killed first. And we…we can’t let anyone else in. It’s too dangerous.

She’s dangerous, the nurse said. The group had gathered in a circle, sitting on the cement floor near the heavy steel doors. An older man who was across from me rolled his eyes at her. He caught my gaze and winked. Jason and his sister Sonja were to my right, looking back and forth from the nurse to Padraic, waiting for his response.

I’m more dangerous than what’s out there? I asked, looking up from my bowl.

We don’t know what’s out there, she snapped.

Padraic held up his hands. Exactly. Which is why we cannot let anyone else in, even if they knock like those girls did. It’s not worth the risk.

That caused a hush of murmurs amongst everyone. Half seemed to agree, some objected, others doubted there was anyone left to let in.

It shouldn’t be too much longer until the rescue groups come and save us. Though he spoke confidently and smiled like he meant it, I knew Padraic was lying. No one was coming. Hell, maybe all of FEMA had died too.

I cleared my throat. You all can thank me anytime. I stood, wishing I could make a dramatic exit as I marched away from the group to the corner of the room that housed old wheelchairs. I flopped down in one, bored, annoyed, scared, and on edge. I picked at the crackling foam armrest.

You didn’t ask for painkillers today, Padraic said, coming up to me.

Nope.

I’m gonna guess you never needed them.

Nope, I repeated.

Then why?

I sighed and shrugged. Why not? What else am I going to do? I dug my nails into the foam. I didn’t want to tell him that I hadn’t taken the virus outbreak seriously until I saw it firsthand and until now my plan had been to get out of this Godforsaken basement. I knew I needed that time to heal, so what better way than to do it in an almost happy, drug-induced coma?

You could be more social? he suggested.

What’s the point?

It’s good for you, for everyone, and I see Zoe’s taken a shine to you.

When I didn’t answer, he walked away. I stayed in that corner for the rest of the morning, busy being pissed off at everything.

I accompanied Jason to the storage closet. At first glance, the large pantry seemed to house a lot of food. But when I mentally divided it up among fifty-two—well, now fifty-one—people eating three times a day, it wouldn’t last us more than a week.

Since Padraic seemed to have taken on the leadership role, I pulled him aside after we ate our yummy lunch of microwaved, frozen pizza.

You told me there was enough food to last ‘awhile’, I said.

He only frowned.

Why did you lie? We’re lucky if we make it another week.

His shoulders sagged. I know.

Then why didn’t you say something?

What was I supposed to do? he begged.

I don’t know. Go find more?

I can’t leave—

—my patients, I know, I finished for him, rolling my eyes. Great plan. Stay here and medicate the shit out of them while they starve to death.

Shh! Orissa, I don’t want the kids to know. He put his hand on my shoulder. If we just wait a few more days, maybe someone will come for us like they promised.

No one is coming! Don’t you get that? I waved my hands around. Don’t you all get that? No one is coming for us, and we can’t stay here forever. Megan’s baby cried, as if he knew the truth my words held.

Jason nodded. What should we do? he asked.

Get out of here, leave. This basement will be our tomb. The food will run out…and what about when winter comes?

Padraic took my hand in his. Orissa, he said, his accent heavy when he spoke my name. Come talk to me out here. He took me out of the safe room and closed the door. I know we will run out of food. I know it will be cold in the winter.

Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?

There’s not much I can do; these people are sick, Orissa. They physically cannot survive without their medications.

So you’re just going to stay here and die with them?

Yes, I will take care of them for as long as I can.

Stupid, noble Irish man. Let me bring food, I offered.

From where?

Anywhere, I think a grocery store would be a good start.

We don’t know what it’s like out there.

Exactly. It might not be so bad, I tried.

Don’t be a fool, Orissa.

We have to at least try, I pleaded, hoping to appeal to his empathetic side. And I’m not your prisoner. You can’t keep me here against my will.

We’re going to set it up so it’s safe here…and safe for us out there, as safe as it can be. Then I’m going with you.

I rolled my eyes at his chivalry. Objecting might have been the decent thing to do, insisting that he was more valuable here than dead. But I really didn’t want to go out there alone.

Padraic instructed a nurse, more than once, about which patients should receive which medications. He hesitated and stammered; always sure that he had overlooked something. In the end, I think he decided that getting his charges food was just as important as keeping them medicated.

Let’s go, I finally said, after Padraic had gone over his lists with the nurse for the hundredth time. She had been taking care of the patients for days. She knew what she was doing.

Now?

No, we’ll wait until the crazies go to sleep. Of course now. When else?

He nodded. Right. I’ll go tell the others.

So far only the nurse knew. She didn’t look happy about the plan, only resigned.

Hurry up, ok? I wanted to leave before fear stopped me.

Alright. He scuttled back into the room. I leaned against the wall, wishing I was familiar with this town. Several minutes later, Padraic returned. He wasn’t alone. Jason, Sonja, and the two guys who’d helped move the bodies accompanied him.

They’re coming too, he informed me.

No, I replied shortly. Padraic seemed to be in good shape. I was banking on him keeping up with me. I was quick, a natural athlete, as my grandmother liked to say. I could take care of myself, but five others?

Safety in numbers, one of the men said with a wry smile. The moment he spoke, I did a double take. It was as if my grandpa, the man who’d taught me so much, was right there with me in the hallway. Everything from his salt and pepper hair, strong jaw line covered in gray stubble, and green and black plaid shirt was familiar. His eyes were brown, reminding me he was just a stranger. I’d gotten my blue-green eyes from Grandpa.

Couldn’t think about my grandpa now…

Weapons, I sighed, You need weapons. Annoyed no one had thought that far ahead, I went back into the safe room, pulling apart machinery to make spears and shanks. They weren’t my first choice, but better than nothing. Alright, I said, examining the two feet of metal I had in my hands. I fashioned a point at the end of the rod I had taken out of the IV stand. Where is the closest grocery store?

Jason and Sonja weren’t from this town either. Padraic lived on the opposite side, away from the slums, but the two men were familiar.

There’s one a block away, the older of the two men, the one who reminded me of my grandfather, told me. He had a firm grasp on his makeshift weapon, holding it as if he knew what he was doing. On foot, it’s just a few minutes’ walk.

Great, let’s go. I wanted to know his name, but didn’t ask. What was the point of getting chummy with people who might die? Though he seemed the most capable of the group and constantly looked around us for danger. I led the way up the dark stairs, unlocking the main basement doors slowly. Suddenly dreading leaving the safety of this dungeon, my hand shook as I pushed the door open.

Since I was in front, I peered around the door. This hall was dark as well; dull emergency lights cast shadows on the ransacked hospital. Tentatively, I moved out of the stairwell. I had no idea where we were. Knowing we had to be somewhere in the middle of the hospital, I went to the right. Muscles stiff with anticipation, my eyes darted madly around for any signs of life. Padraic nodded for me to continue. I rounded a corner and froze.

What is it? Sonja whimpered.

Nothing bad just… I motioned to the glass shattered all over the tile. I was barefoot.

I’ll carry you over it, Padraic offered. Knowing how this situation fared for Bruce Willis in Die Hard, I didn’t balk at his proposal. We were a good ten feet past the glass when he finally set me down.

Thanks. My clothes, I started, where are they?

Padraic didn’t know what I meant.

The exam room I was in. Where is it?

Orissa, I don’t think it’s a good idea, he advised.

You can’t carry me over every sharp thing, I added pointedly.

Jason butted in saying, She’s right.

Thank you, I noted, pressing a smile.

With a sigh, Padraic directed us to the exam room. Bodies littered the hall. The smell was nauseating. Sonja clutched her brother’s arm, not wanting to look at the decaying humans. I slipped into the room. My clothes were still there and I hurriedly got dressed. I dumped the contents of my purse onto the floor, only putting back what I really needed: the notebook, keys, a bottle of hand sanitizer, lip balm, a hair tie and my taser. I debated if I needed my wallet. Not wanting to just leave it here, I pulled out my ID and the little cash I still had, stuffing it into my leather bag. My cell phone had died days ago. Seeing it as useless, I left it on the floor. I slung the strap over my head, pulled on my boots, and dashed out of the room.

Padraic pointed to the right. Silently, we walked through the hospital, passing more bodies. Sunlight filtered through the dirt- and blood-splattered windows in the lobby.

Something scuttled behind the front desk. I whirled around, raising the piece of metal. Sonja let out a muffled scream. She was our weak link, I knew in that moment. And Jason would die trying to protect his sister. He stood in front of her, ready to defend.

Shh! I whispered harshly, shaking my head. Sonja pressed her hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Carefully, I advanced. Whatever was lurking behind the desk grumbled, moved quickly, and rumpled papers. Picking up what was supposed to be a decorative vase from the desk, I threw it as far as I could to the side. It clattered loudly on the ground.

The thing lurched out, seeking the source of the noise. Half of its face was burned and bloody, inhibiting me from guessing its sex or race. One leg was twisted, obviously broken. Still, it moved with impressive speed. At first it was too distracted by the noise. It abruptly skidded to a stop and sniffed the air. Slowly, it turned to look at us, salivating. It snarled and roared before coming after us.

Sonja screamed again, grabbing onto Jason for dear life. I circled around, raising my metal rod to crash it down in its head. The thing turned so fast it startled me. I recoiled, tripping over a fallen stack of medical files, my weapon bouncing out of my hand and rolling away from me. I pulled my knees to my chest and kicked, hitting the disgusting person in the chest. It staggered back. The older man in the plaid shirt that I didn’t know hit it over the head with his weapon: a broken two by four. I was so thankful he came with us.

The thing dropped to its knees. I sprang up, grabbed the rod and drove it through its chest; blood weakly splattered out. I yanked my weapon back, panting. My eyes met the older man’s. I don’t know your name, I spat out.

Logan, he said. I’m Logan.

Orissa.

He winked. I know. I think we all know.

Ok. I nodded. My heart was still racing. We need to go on.

CHAPTER 5

The glass front of the grocery store had been broken, causing a small flicker of fear to rise up in me. So far, every place we passed had been quiet. The world seemed truly dead. But this was different.

From what I had been told, the virus outbreak came on so suddenly no one had time to prepare. I was banking on the notion that the stores hadn’t been emptied, that people had left in a chaotic panic, leaving canned food and water behind.

The air was cold, characteristic of Indiana October. The sun beat down warmly upon us. If it wasn’t for the surrounding decay, I could have said today was a picturesque fall day. I swallowed, nodded at Padraic and stepped inside the store.

The thick cobwebs confused me for all of two seconds. Halloween decorations colorfully decorated the registers. Stepping over a broken jack-o-lantern, I eased further into the store. A rusty squeak and a metallic clang sent my nerves on end. I spun around, almost slipping on pumpkin parts, only to see Sonja guiltily shrug as she pushed a cart.

How else are we going to carry everything? she asked apologetically.

You’re right, Padraic said, and got a cart himself. There’s no way we can carry everything back. He pushed his cart forward, realized the wheel stuck and rattled loudly, and traded it in for another.

Sonja, Jason, Padraic, I said in a low voice. Get water. That should be your first priority. If there’s still room left in your cart, get juice, preferably the 100% kind, not the sugary crap. The other man Padraic had chosen to come with us had introduced himself during our walk to the store as Deron. He was young, in his mid twenties at best, and had black tattoos covering every inch of his exposed skin. He stood behind Logan now, so I decided that the three of us would group together. Deron, Logan, and I will find food. Be quiet. Two of you load up supplies while the other watches. Scream only if necessary.

Without giving anyone a chance to dispute my plan, I strode forward, bypassing the deli section of the store, which I could smell. Sunlight illuminated the front of the store; its rays not reaching the back. In the dark, we fumbled with dumping boxes of beef jerky, dried fruit, and nuts into our cart.

Maybe there’s more in the back, I said, as I took the last box of beef jerky off the shelf.

Maybe, Deron agreed.

We need to find a flashlight first, I instructed, squinting to read the hanging signs. We detoured down the snack food isle; Deron suggested we get chips and cookies for the kids. Chips and cookies weren’t healthy when you weren’t trying to survive.

If there’s still room, I told him. We need to save room for the important stuff. When we walked down the personal hygiene section, I pulled toothbrushes off the rack. My teeth felt absolutely disgusting. Jack pot! I excitedly exclaimed after seeing a display of batteries. I emptied it into the cart, telling Deron to open a pack to put in the flashlight he had picked up. Deron flicked on the light. Logan pushed the cart and I led, staying alert for infected people. We successfully raided the storage room. Our cart was now over flowing with jerky, nuts, yogurt covered raisins, crackers, and cans of fruits and vegetables.

We made it out of the parking lot before we noticed him, casually walking down the street. His arms swung at his sides and he appeared