by Sands, Samie
“Are we going to the hospital?” I mutter sleepily. The exhaustion is thick on my tongue, I’m not even sure that Rachel will be able to understand me. If we’re going to the hospital, at least I can get some serious help. “Did they say?”
“Apparently the hospital is in a worse state than where we just came from. I don’t know where we’re going.”
Ryan. He’s the only person I can think of as I imagine the hospital being destroyed. I’ve lost him yet again. I know I’m dying anyway, so it hardly matters, but the thought of him being in danger still kills me. I lost him to Christy, then to this new girl of his, whatever her name is, and now to the virus.
Of all the people I hope aren’t dead, Ryan is the top of my list. I guess I can’t switch my feelings off for him however hard I try.
“Are you okay?” Rachael hisses quietly to me. “You’re shaking.” She grips hold of me which causes the trembling to stop for just a second. “Are you in shock?”
“Er, yeah, maybe.”
I should probably just tell her, but I can’t quite seem to find the words. I guess there isn’t any point in causing an unnecessary panic right now, not when I can make my escape at the other end. And this time I’ll make sure I do it. I don’t quite know how I managed to slip through the cracks before, it must be the lapses in memory that I heard suggestions about at the hospital. No wonder victims of the virus are so angry and aggressive. I feel that way myself.
“We’ll know more soon,” Racheal reassures me. “Everything will be okay.”
I don’t want to tell her that not only will it not be okay for me, but also that it won’t be alright for the world now. Things with this virus were bad enough before, but now they’re out of control. AM13 is one of those things that should never have been allowed to spread. If everyone gets it and there’s no cure, then everyone is screwed.
There really is no option of ‘okay’ anymore.
Twenty
The next time I feel fully aware, I’m lying in a prison cell. A damp, dark cell with thick bars before me. I don’t know if the door is locked or not, and I’m not sure I want to find out. I think I’d prefer to just lie here and wait for the inevitability of death to come for me.
“Are you okay, Katie?” Rachel’s sweet voice calls through the bars. “Sorry, you looked sick so I let you sleep for a while.”
“Where are we?” I rasp, even if I know the answer really. “Where is this?”
“The cops brought us to the police station now while they work out what to do next. Everyone has a cell to sleep in, and there’s food and stuff. I know it isn’t ideal, but it’s safe for now. There are even spare clothes if you want to change into them, and someone has pulled out a pinball machine…not that you’re probably in the mood for that.”
“I don’t think I’m sick, Rachael,” I rasp dejectedly at her. “I think I’m infected. I think I got bit back at the facility.”
“They checked everyone, Katie. They didn’t let anyone on board who was bitten.” She narrows her eyes at me as if she doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “I think it’s just shock, that’s all.”
“They mustn’t have checked me. They didn’t.”
“I…I saw them. They checked you, Katie.”
I force myself to sit, to check over my body to find the bite that I know is there, but something happens…my brain shuts off and I don’t know what’s going on around me…
***
Time passes. I don’t know how much, but the more of life that floats by me, the less I can remember. I don’t move from where I am in my cell, even when voices try to tell me that I need to. The girl comes a lot, the teenager, but I can’t recall her name however hard I try. She tells me to move, to eat, to look after myself but I ignore her.
I’m dying. It’s taking forever, but I know it’s happening. Soon, the pain will come for me as my organs shut down. Now that I’ve lost my chance to escape I have to just wait for it.
The police officer comes to see me too, the one who pointed a gun at my head. He speaks to me sweetly, he talks to me when it becomes obvious that I’m not going to respond, he doesn’t seem to give up however hopeless things become.
I like him, he seems like a nice man, and he has a great face too. He’s striking; tall, dark, and very handsome. The sort of man I might go for if my life wasn’t at an end.
To occupy my mind as I die, I start to imagine an epic romance between us, just to give my brain something else to think about other than the virus. It plays in my head like a soap opera. We learn all about each other over a secret picnic and bottle of wine shared in an office in the police station. He tells me that his name is Oliver and that he’s had a complicated life. Our first kiss happens later that night, as we share a dance to music only we can hear. It’s soft and sweet, so tender I almost want to cry. It’s such a lovely thought when everything else is so awful.
In my brain, we continue to date in private, snatching moments whenever possible. He showers me with chocolates and flowers, he even gives me a golden chain which he tells me I must never take off so that he will always be with me. Soon, we make love. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The intensity of our situation, combined with the feelings we have for each other, makes the event explosive. Afterwards, while we embrace one another tenderly, he whispers the three words I have been desperate for him to say.
“I love you.”
It’s the most perfect romance, the sort I should’ve had during my life. I wish now more than anything that I’d had such a love because now I know how much I’ve missed out on.
At least I’ve had it in my mind, I suppose.
It’s funny, when the virus finally gets its full grip on me I grab my neck, and for a minute I can swear I feel the golden chain sitting there, the gift from Oliver to remember him forever...