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Surviving The Virus (Book 1): Outbreak

Page 12

by Casey, Ryan


  But the way Kelly looked at her. The way she scanned her, head to toe, and then back up again. It was like they were never friends at all.

  “Nobody asked your opinion,” Kelly said. “Now come on. Let’s get on with this. I’m not spending any longer in here than I absolutely have to.”

  She turned around. Walked towards the doorway to Noah’s flat.

  Jasmine expected Noah to follow straight after her. But he held back. Waited for her.

  She walked up to him. Half-smiled.

  “What happened between you two?” Noah asked.

  Jasmine cleared her throat. Shit. The whole job situation seemed to pale in comparison to everything that had happened since. It barely even seemed relevant.

  But it was. Of course it was.

  That hurt was still there. And quite rightly so.

  “It’s a long story,” Jasmine said, following Noah into his block of flats.

  “She mentioned something about you firing her.”

  “It’s not quite as simple as that.”

  “It never is, is it?”

  He smiled at her. She wanted to ask him what he meant by that; what he was getting at. Was he talking about her and him? The reasons they’d broken up?

  Or was she just reading into things too much?

  “Seriously,” Kelly said, standing at the top of the first flight of stairs. “Can you two leave your long-awaited reunion until we’re at least moderately safe? It’s not like we’re walking around in the middle of a virus-struck city or anything.”

  Jasmine nodded. Turned from Noah just as quickly as he turned from her. He walked on, headed up the stairs, limping with each step. She was worried about that cut, in all truth. She feared it might get infected. She didn’t know how the virus transmitted, but it was fair to assume open wounds weren’t exactly the most sanitary of places.

  They walked up the stairs together. Flight after flight. Until eventually, they reached the fifth story, and Noah turned to face the corridor.

  “Number 513,” he said. “Just up ahead on the right.”

  “Good,” Kelly said, turning her nose up at every inch of this corridor. To be fair, it didn’t look great. There was a smell of piss hanging in the air, mixed with the unavoidable stench of weed. The flowery wallpaper was cracking. Stains covered the ceiling. The carpet underfoot turned up with every step.

  They walked down the corridor, further towards Noah’s flat. Until eventually, they reached the door.

  He stopped at the door. Held his key. For a moment, he froze. Stared at that handle. Wide-eyed. From the other flats, Jasmine could still hear a little movement. The ones who’d stayed behind.

  “Noah?” Jasmine said.

  He looked at her. Snapped out of his trance.

  “You going to let us in?”

  “Sorry,” he said, blushing a little. “I just...”

  He didn’t say anything else. He just put the key in the door, turned it, opened it up.

  He didn’t have to say anything.

  Jasmine knew immediately what he was thinking.

  This. This whole situation. Letting her into his flat. Having her step into his life all over again.

  It got to him.

  Jasmine knew because it got to her, too.

  Noah stepped inside and called out. “Eddie?”

  Jasmine walked into the flat. Narrow corridor. Flaky white walls. A mound of mail at the foot of the door. The smell of cannabis following it inside.

  “Eddie? Where you at?”

  She saw Noah racing through the house. Looking in the lounge. The television was on. Bottles of beer and Coca-Cola covered the floor. A disposed spliff here and there, too.

  And then he went into the kitchen. Unwashed pots hung out of the sink. Flies buzzed around the windows.

  Jasmine didn’t even have to glance at Kelly’s face to know what kind of look she’d have.

  She saw Noah step out of the kitchen, a worried look to his face.

  “No sign?” Jasmine asked.

  “No,” he said. “Unless...”

  He turned to another door, then. What Jasmine could only assume was the bathroom.

  He banged against the door. “Eddie?”

  “I think I hear water running in there,” Jasmine said.

  “That’d be a first,” Noah muttered. “Eddie? Are you in there? I... I’m worried about you, mate. I’m coming in.”

  “Jesus,” Kelly said. “What the hell has my life become?”

  Jasmine saw Noah look back at them both.

  And then she saw him lift a leg. Pull it back. And kick the door. Hard.

  The next thing she saw, she wished she could unsee.

  Eddie stood in the shower.

  Chubby.

  Covered in steamy water.

  AirPods in each ear, laughing away, singing along to an Ariana Grande song.

  “Jesus, Eddie!” Noah shouted.

  Eddie spun around and let out a yelp.

  Instinctively covered his crotch with the manky, almost translucent shower curtain.

  “Jeez, guys! What the hell?”

  Noah held his head in his hand.

  Kelly covered her face, looked like she was on the verge of throwing up.

  And Jasmine could only stand there and stare at Eddie as he looked back at her.

  A smile crept up his face.

  “Oh, hey, Jasmine. Wasn’t expecting to see you. How you diddling?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Noah sat in the living room of his flat and held his breath as Kelly attempted to stitch up his manky knee with dental floss.

  Excruciating pain at the hands of a girl Noah swore would be happy to see him suffer was one way to distract from the embarrassment of Eddie’s shower incident half an hour earlier, anyway.

  She knelt by his leg. Worked the needle further through his skin.

  “Shitting hell.”

  “You’re gonna have to keep still.”

  “I—I can’t keep still.”

  Kelly sighed. “Seriously. What the hell’s wrong with the lot of you? Am I the only one that actually realises we’re just all gonna have to grit our teeth and bear a little bit of pain if we want to get through any of this?”

  “Easy for you to say,” Noah said. “While you’re all nice and comfy on the floor there.”

  “Trust me,” Kelly said, trying to keep her hand still. “I’m anything but comfy. Surprised I’ve not caught something just being in this flat. In fact, I’m starting to wonder whether this could be where it all broke out in the first place.”

  Noah leaned back and looked across the room. Saw Eddie and Jasmine sat beside one another awkwardly. Eddie tucked into a bag of out of date popcorn. Kept on offering Jasmine some, which she refused every time.

  He gritted his teeth through the pain. Barney, Jasmine’s dog, sniffed around the room for scraps, something which deeply concerned Noah in case he picked something up that might harm him.

  But the pain. The surreal nature of this whole damned situation. All of it was a pleasant distraction from the tidal wave of shit outside.

  “Are you even qualified to be stitching my leg up?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Didn’t you study hair and beauty—ow!”

  “Careful,” Kelly said. “If anyone has a damned right to be judgemental here, it’s me. Now keep still before I make it worse.”

  He sat through the pain. Gritted his teeth some more. And eventually, to his surprise, Kelly actually finished stitching it up.

  “There you go,” she said. “Should do the trick.”

  Noah studied his knee. She’d done a decent job he had to admit.

  “Where the hell did you learn something like that?”

  “It was arts and crafts I studied. Not hair and beauty. Right. Can we start talking about getting out of here? I’m worried I’m gonna start shooting heroin and watching shit daytime TV.”

  Noah leaned forward. Looked around the room.
The way everyone looked at him didn’t feel comfortable. It was like they were looking at him to take the lead. Like something about him gave him the final say on how to progress.

  And that wasn’t something he was happy with. It wasn’t natural to him. He’d made strides at taking responsibility in recent years. But this... this felt a bridge too far.

  “Why are you all looking at me?”

  “Good point,” Kelly said. “I say we—”

  “No, wait,” Noah said. That urge to step up kicking in. The urge not to be belittled by Kelly. Not again.

  He had to be decisive.

  He didn’t know if it was anything to do with Jasmine’s presence, but he felt an unstoppable need not to slip into the habits of the past that contributed to their breakup in the first place.

  He leaned forward. Cleared his throat.

  “We’re all together now. We need to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

  “Nice suggestion, genius.”

  “Kelly,” Noah said, ignoring her. “You said you live pretty rurally. You think your place would be a better place to ride all this out?”

  Kelly shrugged. “As long as you have a wash before you step inside.”

  Noah nodded. He wasn’t biting anymore. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea, then. Because all we have so far is this notice on the television. A notice to wait for help to arrive.”

  “A notice we ignored,” Jasmine said.

  Noah looked at her. “You still think we should’ve gone with that group?”

  “What group?” Eddie said. “Did I miss the evacuation?”

  Jasmine sighed. “I think we should’ve gone, yeah. It wasn’t ideal, sure. But maybe they could’ve done something for us. Maybe they could’ve helped us.”

  “Maybe they could,” Noah said. “But we let them go. I saw one of them was armed.”

  “They’re bound to be armed,” Jasmine said. “They’re trying to maintain order.”

  “I didn’t like it.”

  Silence followed. Silence Noah needed to break.

  He leaned forward. “Look. We don’t know exactly what’s going to happen next. We don’t know how long any of this is going to last. But right now, I think Kelly’s right, as much as it pains me to admit it. We get somewhere rural. We keep as low a profile as we can. And we go from there.”

  A muted agreement across the room. Even Barney let out a sigh, almost like he was content with the decision.

  “Good,” Noah said. “Then let’s—”

  “What about parents?” Jasmine asked.

  “What?”

  “Parents,” she said. “Mine... mine are in Manchester. I can’t get hold of them anymore. Are your parents still in town?”

  Noah felt a twisting in his gut.

  A twisting in his gut for a number of reasons.

  Some of which he didn’t want to admit.

  “They’ll be okay.”

  “We should check on them. On the way.”

  He wanted to push back.

  He wanted to resist.

  But in the end, he nodded.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We should...”

  He noticed something, then.

  The light in the flat flickered out.

  The television cut out.

  Everything went dead.

  Noah frowned. “What’s—”

  “I can’t get online anymore,” Eddie said. “Not on WiFi. Not on 4G. Something wrong with the power?”

  Noah walked over to the window and looked outside.

  “I think it’s more than just a power cut,” Noah said.

  He stepped away from the window. Looked at this unexpected group of people.

  “Come on,” he said. “We’d better get moving.”

  “Never a truer word spoken,” Kelly said. “But one thing.”

  “Sure.”

  Kelly looked at Eddie. “Do you have any of that weed left? I think I’m gonna need it.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Shirley Ingridsson never felt more relieved than when the army truck rolled up outside her house and promised to take her to safety.

  It all started with the television. She’d been in the middle of watching the Jimmy Karl show when it suddenly cut to some news broadcast about a bad virus or other. Shirley was an eighty-four-year-old woman. She lived alone in a cosy little bungalow just outside of town. She’d had a husband, once. David. Spent fifty happy years together before he finally passed away peacefully four years ago.

  She missed him. Her heart broke for him. She grieved over him.

  But there was a strange sense of contentment that spilled over from their life together, too. A sense that they’d lived a full life. They didn’t have any regrets. Their memories were overwhelmingly positive. Even those moments of grief—losing their parents, losing their friends—were marked by a sense that they were united. They were together.

  So when the news came on about the virus, she switched it over right away. She was too old to be worrying about stuff like that. Besides, the news always exaggerated things. They always made a meal of things. Pretended there were problems there where they actually weren’t. She’d seen it her whole life. Sure, there were good times. There were bad times. But she was still here.

  But then something changed. First, the sirens racing down her street. Then that ambulance turning up at Mrs Dennis’ across the road. Mrs Dennis was older than her, but she always seemed healthy. Which worried Shirley more when she saw she wasn’t well. Blood. Lots of blood.

  And then there was the new message on the television. The one with the scary blue background. And that writing, which she had to stand close to the telly to squint at.

  THIS IS AN EMERGENCY BROADCAST.

  REMAIN IN YOUR HOMES. AVOID PHYSICAL CONTACT WITH STRANGERS. WAIT FOR QUARANTINE AND EVACUATION.

  She didn’t know what to make of it at first. She tried changing the channel, but this silly message just seemed to be staying there, a bit like the one that popped up when her set top box needed retuning, and she had to get her grandson, Martin, to do it.

  She tried ringing Martin, but she couldn’t get through to him. Which worried her a bit. Young’uns these days were always glued to their phones and their tech. She’d tried ringing a few other people too. Harriet, her daughter, who she didn’t expect to get through to anyway ’cause she was always in meetings at work. And Dom. Her eldest. He lived the other side of the world. Settled in Canada eight years ago. Only even rang when he wanted something.

  He never picked up.

  But today, he answered right away.

  “Dom?” She hesitated, caught by surprise. “There’s something wrong with my telly. I can’t seem to—”

  “You need to stay inside, Mum.”

  “What? That’s what the telly’s saying but I—”

  “Stay inside. Wait for help. It’s bad, Mum. It’s really—”

  The line went dead.

  Shirley lowered her phone. Stupid bloody thing. She’d had a bad connection for ages. Every time she got someone out, they told her there was nothing wrong, but they weren’t the ones who had to put up with a line that constantly went dead.

  She hobbled over to her sofa. Opened up the phone book. Keyed in Dom’s number again.

  But the phone was totally dead.

  She realised something else strange, then. The telly. It’d gone off completely.

  As had her little electric heater that she always kept on, keeping the room nice and toasty.

  For a horrible moment, Shirley felt really lost, really helpless, and really old. She looked out of her window onto the street. She wanted to go out there, ask a neighbour what was happening. But she had a bad feeling about all of this. And she wasn’t the best on her feet. She didn’t want to fall. Not while there was a power cut. Because there’s no way she could call someone to help.

  She waited in her lounge for a while. Wanted to make a brew, but couldn’t, because the kettle and the stove both weren’t working. />
  She went to step outside again when suddenly, out of nowhere, all the power came back on again. All the lights in her house. The alarm. Everything.

  She smiled at that, relieved. All just a load of silliness. Just a power cut. Nothing for her to worry about.

  She keyed the digits into the alarm when she heard an engine outside. A voice.

  “If you could please step outside in an orderly fashion. We’re here to take you to safety.”

  Shirley hobbled over to the window. Outside, she saw some people in funny white clothing, like fancy dress. There was a big green army truck beside them. People from all across the street were stepping out of their homes, heading towards those trucks. It was weird, seeing all the old people from the community out at once. It was a communal living style place. Sheltered accommodation for the elderly. They had a hall where people met every night to play bingo and watch the football. A proper little social hub.

  But Shirley preferred to keep herself to herself.

  She saw that man with the megaphone calling out for people to come outside. And a part of her didn’t want to go anywhere. Because this wasn’t normal. She’d never seen anything like this in her whole life.

  But then she remembered what the message on the telly said.

  WAIT FOR QUARANTINE AND EVACUATION.

  She took a deep breath. These people looked official, at least. “Eee, I don’t know…”

  And then she threw on her best coat, her nicest shoes, and she stepped outside.

  Right away, she saw one of these people lay eyes on her. They walked over to her. Held out an arm, all covered in this thick plastic gear. Hard to even tell if they were a man or woman.

  They helped her to the truck.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  The person didn’t say a thing.

  They just lifted her onto the truck with so many people like herself, and she sat there as the truck moved up the street.

  It was tight on here. Hot. Everyone crammed in. Some of them spoke about a virus. Others spoke about awful things they’d seen. People dropping dead. People going crazy.

  Talk of that flight to Manchester carrying some kind of virus.

 

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