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Virus Z | Book 1 | Before The Outbreak

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by Stewart, K. M.




  VIRUS Z

  Before the outbreak

  Book One

  K.M. Stewart

  Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of the publication may

  be reproduced, stored in into a retrieval system, or

  transmitted ,in any form, or by any means ( electronic,

  mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise )

  without the prior written consent of the copyright

  owner.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Meet Emma

  Chapter Two: Emma’s Past

  Chapter Three: Emma’s Dream

  Chapter Four: Cinderemma

  Chapter Five: Emma’s Mom And Dad

  Chapter Six: Madison

  Chapter Seven: Aunt Susan

  Chapter Eight: Emma And The Conspiracies

  Chapter Nine: Officer Andrew Gibson, Ten Years Ago

  Chapter Ten: Science Club

  Chapter One

  Meet Emma

  M y name is Emma Johnson. My close friends call me Em. My best friend's name is Madison. My favorite teacher's name is Mrs. Norris. She also calls me Em.

  I live in Seattle, my parents lived here too. I live with my aunt, Susan, and my cousins, Ava and Olivia. They never call me Em. Ava and Olivia are two years older than me. I’m glad, for I wouldn't want to be stuck in the same school or classroom as them. Next year will be my first year of high school. I'm not sure what they will do. I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

  Ava and Olivia are taller than me. Their hair is sandy blonde, like aunt Susan's. Ava and Olivia would be pretty, in my opinion, if they weren't so ugly on the inside. The ugly faces they make, the exaggerated body language. They weren't always mean to me. They learned that from aunt Susan.

  Ava and Olivia are slim. They were a little chunkier, but they hit a growth spurt and grew a couple inches taller. Aunt Susan is chunky. I suppose it's her own fault. I always make four desserts for after dinner. Ava and Olivia get one each. Aunt Susan eats two and I get none.

  To myself, I joke that in a zombie apocalypse aunt Susan would get eaten first. Ava and Olivia don't have as much meat on their bones.

  Chapter two

  Emma’s past

  When I was two my parents died in a car accident. Apparently,

  I wasn't in the car when it happened. Their car accidently plunged into Elliot bay. They were trying to board the ferry. I don’t want you to feel sad or pity me, I just can't skip the sad stuff. My parents were called Tom and Karen. Susan is my mom's sister. I guess they probably didn't get along as kids. Although I don't remember my mom, I don't like to think she was anything like aunt Susan. I often imagine the sibling rivalry they would have.

  I look like my mom. My hair is light brown and I have hazel eyes. From what I can tell from the pictures, our faces are a similar shape. I don't look like my dad. He has red hair and freckles. He had very fair skin. He was taller than my mom.

  In my heart I miss my mom and dad even though I don't remember them. I'm sure they were great parents. I have a lot of old pictures to remember them by; me sitting on my dad's lap smiling, my mom cooking while I'm on the kitchen floor with a bunch of toys. My favorite picture is of all of us on my first Christmas. I’m sure it was the best Christmas I ever had even though I don't remember it. I wonder what life would be like if they were still alive.

  Chapter Three

  Emma’s dream

  I 've had a recurring dream ever since I could remember. In fact, it's more of a nightmare. Sometimes I don't have it very often. It used to be a couple times a year, then it was once a month or so, but now it comes a few times a week.

  I'm sitting on my mom's lap. My dad is standing in front of us. It looks like we are in a doctor’s office, although I know it's not. The walls are white. It seems a sterile environment. The thing that stands out the most is across the room behind a glass wall. It's a zombie. It's restrained. It's staring right at me. Its eyes don't blink. It doesn't look bad. It's not rotting or missing limbs or anything. It must have recently turned. I hope to myself that it wasn't an experiment gone wrong.

  My dad has a syringe in one hand and a vial in the other, his hands are shaking. My mom is screaming, “Do it now Tom.”

  Dad replies, “We don't even know if it will work. We haven't done any testing. We don't know if it's safe or not. We don’t know what it might do to her.”

  Boom! Someone is pounding on the door. Probably with a battering ram. The door is almost off the hinges. I hear them shout, “Tom, Karen, I know you're in there. Open the door. You can't stay in there forever.”

  My mom says it again, “Do it now! Before it's too late. We might not get another chance.”

  The voice at the door comes again, still pounding from the other side, “Open up. Or I can just set the building on fire and smoke you out like rats.”

  My dad replies, “It could kill her Karen!”

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  “Now, Tom!” My mom shouts. My dad plunges the syringe into the vial. The syringe begins to suck the liquid up.

  One final BOOM. The door flies off the hinge. Then I wake up. The more vivid it is, the more I wake up shaking and trembling. Sometimes I find myself sweating too. The dream ends differently sometimes. Usually the door flies off the hinge. Sometimes the door catches fire. Sometimes the mystery person threatens to blow the building up. Other times, there's no one at the door but the conversation between my mom and dad is the same. The sense of urgency doesn't change.

  The dream is so real, I sometimes wonder if it's a memory. I know it’s crazy to think it's real. I know it's not real, because of the zombie. But it would be nice to at least have one memory of my mom and dad. I wonder what was in the vial. Why was it so important? What's with the zombie?

  I haven't told my best friend Madison. She knows everything else about me. I know she wouldn't judge me. She wouldn't think it's crazy. She's not a blabbermouth either. It's just something I think I should keep to myself.

  Chapter four

  Cinderemma

  M y aunt makes me do everything. I learned at a young age how to cook and clean. It sounds like the story of Cinderella, it’s quite like that. Even though I refer to them as my aunt and cousins they don’t feel like my family. Madison and her mother are the closest people I have to family.

  My cousins and my aunt call me Cinderemma. Ava came up with it one day and it stuck. I was hoping they would forget about it. I don't think it's funny, but they do.

  Ava and Olivia share a bedroom. Sharing a room might seem uncomfortable or cramped. For them, it isn't. They have the biggest, nicest room in the house. There is a walk-in closet. There are two separate beds. They are four-poster beds with curtains you can pull closed when you sleep. Ava and Olivia said they had to have them because they share a room.

  My room is really small. I don't have a four-poster bed. I have a camping cot, and all my clothes are hand-me-downs. My aunt likes to remind me I couldn't have a bigger bed because it wouldn't fit in the room. She also says I don't share a room, so I don't deserve one. It's funny that she mentions it because I never asked for a new bed. I know better than to ask. She likes to remind me that she had to remove a desk from this room so I could have a bedroom. Her precious desk is more important than me.

  Chapter five

  Emma’s mom and dad

  M y mom and dad were really smart research scientists. They were virologists, studying illnesses and infectious diseases. Mrs. Norris would have loved them. Mrs. Norris is my science teacher. I’ve learnt that viruses can make you sick with a cold or flu. They can cause a lot of other sicknesses.
My mom and dad studied the most dangerous viruses. There are so many viruses, most people haven't heard of them all.

  Some of the dangerous viruses were laboratory made. I learnt from a few articles published by them, that some of these viruses come from nature, but they can be manipulated. My mom and dad made viruses attack other virus cells. They also helped develop antiviral medicines. They never did experiments on live specimens. Unless it fit under a microscope, they wouldn't test on it. They only tested the cells.

  There are a couple old photographs of my mom and dad in their laboratory. I like to look at them. They both have big suits on. They look like astronauts. There are tubes on the suit that pump air in. The big suits keep them from catching the viruses they are working with. There are several microscopes. There are petri dishes & test tubes. There is other equipment. I wonder who took this picture. I also wonder what was in the petri dishes. I think this was the last picture of my mom and dad.

  I asked aunt Susan if there was anything else of my parent's. She never says yes or no. What I have from my parents fits in a shoe box. Sometimes she yells to leave her alone. Sometimes she takes the shoebox away. She will return it later, but a picture will be missing. I wonder if she feels guilty. She usually puts it back later, when I’m not home.

  My parents were on the brink of some major scientific discoveries before they died. What they knew isn’t certain. After they passed away, their research was never found. Their computers were wiped clean. Notebooks gone, folders in the filing cabinet were empty.

  The only thing left of their research were the few articles they published. As I look through these science publications, I can't help but wonder why their research wasn't found. I always had a lingering feeling that their research was hidden or stolen. It could not just have gotten up and walked away. Maybe it's out there somewhere. My head swarms with so many questions. Has anyone tried to find the research? Was it stolen? Or did my parents hide it? What were they going to reveal? If my parent’s death wasn't an accident, someone wanted something kept secret. It seems suspicious that their lab was found empty after they died. I feel like answers are out there somewhere and I want to find them.

  “Aunt Susan, can I go to Madison's house?” I asked.

  “Yes. Just as long as you are home in time for dinner. And don't be a second late.”

  I walked out the door and didn't say anything. For most families it means that dinner will be ready, and they eat together. For me, it means I'm doing all the cooking and cleaning. It means I can’t make aunt Susan and her evil offspring wait. I saw 3 steaks in the refrigerator. Guess I will be having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  Chapter six

  Madison

  C ome on Em. We've had this conversation like a thousand times,” said Madison. She is pretty, with a kind face. She smiles softly at me whenever I bring up my parents in conversation.

  “Someone took their research after they died, and I want to know why. The crash happened the day before they were going to make their announcement.”

  “Maybe they lost it.”

  “You know that doesn't make any sense, right? Has anything of yours completely disappeared?”

  “Well, no. I suppose that would be theft. Maybe they were spring cleaning?”

  I sigh in frustration. “We are getting nowhere with this. This conversation always takes us in circles. It was probably stolen.”

  “Maybe it wasn't stolen. The police report said they didn't find evidence of a break in. Maybe your parents were moving their laboratory. Maybe they were the ones to hide their research.”

  “That's an interesting point. Not a lot of people even knew where their laboratory was. They didn't have a lot of colleagues. What makes you say that?”

  “Your parents were like the 007's of the scientific community. You know most of what they were doing was super top secret. Someone knew what they were up to. They were about to reveal something. Something so important that they claimed it was their duty to inform the public. I heard that it’s a common conspiracy that they created a zombie or vampire virus.”

  “Don't be ridiculous, that's impossible,” I laughed at the silliness of her claim. Even though I don't remember my parents, I refused to think they would create something that could hurt people. There was a knock at Madison's door. It was Madison's mother. “Hey kiddos, do you want a snack?”

  “Mom, can we adopt Emma?” Madison asked her mom.

  “Oh honey, wouldn’t Susan and the girls miss Emma?” Her mom replied. Susan has everyone fooled and I don't want her mom to know the truth.

  Chapter seven

  aunt Susan

  W here's Cinderemma? She should be home by now. I allowed her to visit that friend of hers. What's her name? Melanie? Well, it doesn't matter. Dinner is in 15 minutes. I'm starving. She hasn't cooked us anything. Ava and Olivia will be home any minute now. They will be hungry too. Emma hasn't the courtesy to swing by and at least make us some sandwiches. I explained to her already, she gets to live here for free. Since she can't pay rent, she can earn her keep. I have to pay to feed her. This is ridiculous. She's 15 minutes late. I'm calling the police.

  “911, what's your emergency?”

  “My niece Emma is missing.”

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “15 minutes”

  “You said 15 minutes? Is that correct? Ok ma'am please remain calm. An officer will be to your residence shortly. There's no reason to shout. An officer should arrive momentarily,”

  “Mom, where's dinner? Where's Cinderemma?” Said Olivia.

  “Can we get takeout? I need Cinderemma to iron my dress for tomorrow,” said Ava.

  Just then came a knock at the door.

  “Hello Susan. It's been a long time.” Said officer Gibson.

  “Andrew, I mean officer Gibson. I haven't really seen you since Karen and Tom's funeral.” I replied.

  “How is Emma?” asked officer Gibson.

  “She's missing.” I said.

  Officer Gibson pulled a pen and notepad from his pocket, emblazoned with the Seattle Police Department crest. He opened it to a blank page. “How long has she been missing?” Officer Gibson asked as he peered over his sunglasses.

  “20 minutes now. Dinner is always at 6pm sharp.”

  Olivia stood behind me barking, “Who's going to cook dinner mom?” Officer Gibson glanced at the girls as I whispered to them to be quiet.

  I said, “She's always home no later than 5:30,”

  “Who's going to iron my dress?” Ava complained.

  “Where is Cinderem-,” I quickly put my hand over Ava's mouth.

  Officer Gibson eyed us suspiciously and put the notepad and pen back in his pocket. He removed his sunglasses and placed them on his shirt. He was ready for a serious conversation, “I don't think Emma is missing. It's only been a few minutes.”

  “But-” I tried to interrupt. Officer Gibson continued, “It's the time of year kids start joining after school activities.”

  “She would never dare join! Especially not without my permission. I don't remember her giving me a permission slip. That girl has no hobbies anyway,”

  Officer Gibson tried to keep his cool and explained, “Susan, most of these activities don't need paperwork from a parent or guardian. They don't leave the school grounds. Unless it's football, she wouldn’t need your permission.”

  “How could she do this to me? After everything I've done for her!”

  Officer Gibson looked me straight in the eye. “Most parents and guardians appreciate the activities. It helps keep kids occupied. Especially for parents like me, who work past school hours. My son joined a science club. I would bet that's where Emma is at.” Officer Gibson put his sunglasses back on and turned and walked towards the police car.

  “Wait, aren't you going to do something? Send a search party?”

  “I will do nothing of the sort.” He tipped his hat and said, “Good day Susan.”

  “Arrest her for running a
way!” I scream. Officer Gibson is already driving away.

  “I don't understand why everyone takes Emma's side! Even the police take her side! This is just like when Karen and I were kids. It's because I'm not a brainiac!” I shouted. “Come on girls. Let's go get Dick’s Burgers. Don't save her a scrap.”

  Chapter EIGHT

  Emma and the conspiracies

  I t's the beginning of a wonderful school day. It's an escape from home. That's why I'm usually the first one here. I see Mr. Thatcher our janitor, dragging a mop and bucket. He is a very strange looking man. I always stick up for him when kids make fun of him. Mr. Thatcher doesn't really talk. Maybe he can't. He just grunts. I know his name because he has a name tag. Kids call him a freak. They call him zombie and Quasimodo. He does walk with a sway and a limp. He does look like a zombie. I think it's a birth defect of some sort. That's why I defend him from bullies. No one chooses who they are when they are born.

  There's something familiar about Mr. Thatcher. Sometimes I get the feeling of deja vu.

  “Defending your boyfriend again, Emma?” Ben Hudson snaps at me. He has a harsh, angry face.

  “Bite me, Ben!” I reply.

  “Maybe that's what happened to this freak here,” Ben said.

  “That's not how it works Ben. He wouldn't bite me and turn into a zombie.” I snap back.

  “You're the zombie expert, you should know.” I roll my eyes. This is getting old.

  The bell rings. Everyone heads to class.

  In science class today we were doing basic experiments. We made a traditional baking soda volcano. While it seems silly, it's really fun. I'm glad we aren't dissecting frogs again. Mrs. Norris called me and Frank Buchanan over to her desk. “For the more advanced students, I want you to swab some surfaces and log your findings,” Mrs. Norris said. Frank isn't my favorite person. I don't hate him. I strongly dislike him. We do our assignment separately.

 

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