Lockdown (AM13 Outbreak Series)

by Samie Sands

  Plus, it would be inhumane to leave him here, wouldn’t it?

  The man sits very still and silently, while I consider all the options before making my decision. He can see the confusion in my eyes. He must be able to see me wavering, and he seems to understand why—for which I’m really grateful.

  Time passes while I think, struggling.

  It’s his silence that in the end makes the decision easy. He doesn’t pressure me, continuing to beg until I can think no more. He actually respects my fears about him.

  “Yes,” I whisper, watching as his eyes light up. “You can come with me, but you must do exactly as I say at all times.” I want to regain some control over the situation, just in case. I’m going against my instincts here, and I’m extremely aware that I need to be as cautious as possible.

  “Oh thank you, thank you, thank y—”

  I hold my hand up to silence him. “I need to get out of this hell hole now, it’s driving me nuts. I just…I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  “I understand.” He nods, before instructing me on how to release him. “It’s all activated by that set of switches over there.” My eyes follow where he’s pointing, all the time worrying that I’m doing the wrong thing. “Normally, it’s controlled by fingerprints, but it can be overridden by a key, which is kept in the second drawer down on the desk.”

  I’m impressed by his observations. He’s really kept an eye on what’s been going on around him. He’s either extremely thorough or he’s been waiting for someone like me to come along. Once the key is in my shaking hand, I move carefully. One false move and I fear everything in sight will be free. I can’t stop my eyes from nervously flicking around the room.

  As I’m unlocking the system, I concentrate hard. The guy constantly talks, getting on my nerves, but I put it down to his anxiety. This must be a stressful situation for him too. Despite all that he says, I only pick up his name—Mike. The rest is nothing more than a buzzing distraction.

  Finally, I’ve done it.

  Red lights flash. Alarms sound. Panic. Fear. What have I done? This must be bad, really bad. I can hear a screaming noise, but I can’t work out where it’s coming from. I look around, quickly noticing that all the cages are opening. They are coming out. This is it. Oh my God, I need to run. I can’t hang about anymore; I have to get out of here.

  It’s then I notice the screams are coming from me.

  Time stands still. Everything has been so quiet for days, so the loud alarm noise feels like an intrusion on my brain, my thoughts. I can’t get myself together enough to do something to stop it.

  I turn and run towards Mike. My plan was to rescue him and that’s what I need to do. Then I realise I don’t even know this guy, I can’t worry too much about him. Loyalties forgotten, I move towards getting the hell out of there. I grab my bag and get to the door in a speedy blur.

  The gun! I suddenly remember the gun. I placed it down before unlocking the cages and in all the drama, I forgot to pick it up. I look back to see my chances of retrieving it, but there’s no hope. The infected are everywhere now, filling the building and shambling towards me. I need to push it to the back of my mind and forget about it. I need to move right now!

  I yank on the door, and just as I’m about to hotfoot out of there, I feel the unmistakable, rushing, hot poker pain of teeth clamping down on my shoulder.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  I instantly stop fighting, stop running, my fate already accepted. I knew this journey would come down to this the second Michelle vanished. I just knew there was no chance of this having a happy ending for any of us.

  Now that I’ve reached my ending, I almost feel a sense of relief. I no longer have to feel that overwhelming guilt because I’m the last survivor. I don’t have to pretend to be brave anymore, I can admit to myself how truly afraid I’ve been all along. I may not have hid my fears well, but I’ve been doing my best. That’s all over now. I don’t have to go on fighting this exhaustion, this pain that’s radiating through my body; I can finally succumb to it.

  I’m so hot; sweat must be dripping from literally everywhere. My head feels funny—almost like my brain is starting to shut down already. My body already feels like it’s no longer mine.

  If only we hadn’t started this mission, if only we’d stayed in and worked like good little employees, if only we’d not thought that this was something we could do. If only…

  I’m distracted from my thought pattern by the cold, fresh air slapping me in my face. Mike has pulled me outside, and he’s still tugging on my arm now. “But you shouldn’t, you can’t…” I try to explain; I try to tell him that he needs to get as far away from me as possible. I’m part of the problem now. I was willing to leave him, now it’s his turn to go. “You need to leave…”

  He completely ignores me. I try to convey that I’m tainted, infected. I want him to know that if he stays with me, he’ll be forced to kill me before I murder him. But it’s as if he wants to remain oblivious.

  In the end, I give up fighting and simply run with the motion. Even though I know Mike shouldn’t be near me, I need to get him away from all of them more. I still have enough of myself not to attack—they don’t. And right now, they’re coming. It’s as if I can sense them and the sensation makes my skin crawl and my throat constrict. The alarms and commotion will attract more of them as well; soon there’ll be no escape. Then he’ll have no hope of getting away from this unscathed. He isn’t doomed yet, and there’s no reason for him to be. I’ll just force him to leave when we get somewhere safe, to ensure that he remains alive.

  I can’t breathe. My legs are killing me. We’ve been running for absolutely ages, and I don’t know how much longer I can carry on. I want to stop, but I can’t. I need to save Mike, and if I stop, he will too. After all the damage I’ve caused everyone else—including myself—this can be my one redeeming act before I’m gone. God, I’m dreading becoming like that. A shuffling, moaning cannibal. I feel sick at the idea of being one of them. The last thing I want to do is kill and eat anyone, but soon I may have no choice. I really wish I still had the gun, then I could kill myself before I have the chance to do any real damage. I don’t have full confidence that I would be brave enough to pull that trigger, but the option would be nice.

  The bite hurts like hell—it’s the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. I keep thinking that it may be easing off a little, but I’m not fully convinced. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I want the pain to subside, because that might be the start of me losing myself.

  When we eventually feel safe enough to stop, I fall to the ground, devastated. I want to cry, but the tears don’t come. Instead I repeat the word “no, no, no” over and over again, feeling the shock wearing off, and reality finally hitting.

  Mike interrupts my thoughts. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” I point to my shoulder and he pulls my top to one side to have a look. “Ooh, that looks nasty. Do you have anything in your bag to help it? A first aid kit or something?” He pulls away from me to rummage through my backpack.

  The tears give up and finally roll down my cheeks at this moment. “I’m so stupid. How could I have let myself get bitten? In that creep show circus, of all places. I can’t believe I got so far, just to fail there…” I try to gulp down the sobs, but they burst free anyway.

  “Wait, what do you mean?” I look up at Mike’s confused face. “It isn’t a bite on your shoulder, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just a cut. I don’t know how you did it, it was all pretty chaotic.” He laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to turn into one of those freaks. You’ll be fine; we just need to get it dressed.”

  “Huh?” I whisper. I don’t understand, I felt the teeth. I’m absolutely convinced that I was being bit. But maybe I was wrong. Is that possible? I’m so tired and confused and I’ve been through so damn much, it could just be my mind getting things mixed up. “Are you sure?”

  I watch his face carefully a
s he nods as a reply.

  I sink deep into my thoughts. I just can’t get my head around the fact that I’m not going to die, after all. I try to process that as Mike dresses the wound the best that he can with the minimal supplies I have left. I’m just not entirely convinced by Mike, there’s something about him that doesn’t feel right. That’s why I don’t fully know if I can trust his words.

  I’m too tired to make an informed decision. There’s no way I’ll be able to line up the pros and cons of his presence in my life tonight, so when he suggests that we find somewhere sheltered to rest, my weary body agrees. I need to sleep, I need to sleep so badly that I might just do it right here in the midst of danger.

  In the end, we hunker down under a hedge by the road, far away from those evil woods. It’s definitely not ideal, but as soon as my head touches the cold, hard ground, I’ve already blacked out.

  ***

  The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Mike. He’s stood over me, as if he’s been watching me sleep. I sit up quickly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. That’s the creepiest way I’ve ever woken up in my life, and it doesn’t bode well for the day ahead.

  All I can focus on are his deep, dark eyes. Right now, they feel like the eyes of a killer boring into me.

  “I hope you slept well!” He has a jolly undertone in his voice, but all I can focus on is the desperate need to get away from him that’s gnawing away at me.

  It hasn’t escaped my notice that the person I now want to escape is primarily here because I didn’t want to be alone any longer. I’m not sure what it is about him; I guess after all I’ve been through I just don’t trust the unknown. This guy could be some kind of weirdo, a pervert, a rapist, or a serial killer for all I know. We all know terrible situations like this can bring the worst out in people. This isn’t like Jake and Michelle; Mike is a complete stranger to me, and it’s something that I’m particularly struggling with.

  “Let me carry your things.” He smiles, picking up my bag.

  I agree because my shoulder is still in agony, but a small voice in the back of my mind screams at me that this is a mistake—that he wants me to be dependent on him so I can’t go off by myself. I try to ignore these paranoid thoughts and the feelings of unease, because they aren’t grounded in any facts. I need to just let go of my reservations for the time being until he proves himself untrustworthy. I need to stay. After all, it’s him or nothing.

  “Where are we going?” he asks, showing that he intends to keep his promise. Even though the rescue went wrong, he did say he would help me if I set him free, and it seems that he intends to honour that.

  I point silently towards the direction of home, and we instantly start to move. We walk for hours, me slightly behind me, just listening to him talk. I occasionally chip in with an “hmmm” or “yeah” just to keep the conversation flowing. All the while, my mind is constantly whirring with potential ideas, just in case things do go wrong. I don’t want to get caught out by something silly. I already almost died once, there’s no need for it to happen again. If I remain smart in the company of this guy, then things should turn out alright.

  I just need to get home now. That’s what this journey has been about all along, and I won’t feel fully safe until I’m back with my family. I wonder how they’re all doing. I wonder if they know that I’ve left the office, that I’ve defied the Lockdown and that I’m out amongst all of this. They could have easily found out the truth if they rang the office—which they may well have done after discovering my mobile phone has been out of battery for a while. I wonder what Jamie will have told them. He may have even told them that I’m no longer alive…it’s very likely that’s what he believes.

  I hope they forgive me for putting them through all of this worry when they do see me, especially Felix. I promised him I’d keep in touch and I’ve let him down miserably. Will they be furious when they find out how many times I almost died—how many people did die on this mission—or will they just be grateful that I’m okay? I’d like to think the latter, but realistically they would be well within their rights to feel either way.

  I suddenly notice that I’ve been scratching my injured shoulder like crazy, which fills me with a sense of dread. Cuts don’t feel this itchy unless they’re infected, surely? I’ve been so worried I was given AM13 I didn’t even give any thought to the possibility that it could be something else. Not knowing what caused the wound is an issue. It means I can’t make any assumptions—not that I know a lot about lesions.

  It would just be typical of my muddled life that in the middle of the worst infection known to mankind, I’d be the one to die of an illness that’s been around for centuries, and in normal circumstances would be easily treatable!

  No, I need to stop thinking like that. All I need to do is stop scratching.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Eight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ***

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