The Survivors (Book 1): Pandemic

by Burns, Alex

  “No. No, you’ll be fine, love. Go home. I hate to say it, but there’s nothing you can do for them now. Go home and make sure you wash everything.”

  “What about… what about their bodies? I don’t have Lucy’s mum’s number. Or Alan’s. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Alice, listen to me. Go home. Have a hot shower. Eat something. You can figure it out later. You need to take care of yourself now.”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “Okay, Mum.”

  I hung up and started to walk towards the gate when I heard a bark. Maggie. I couldn’t leave here there. I steeled myself and went back inside. I gathered up Maggie’s lead, favourite toy, food and water bowls and stood looking at the huge bag of dog food they had in the pantry. I wouldn’t be able to carry that all the way home. I bit my lip, and then told myself Lucy would tell me to do it anyway, if she could. I grabbed her car keys out of the bowl in the entry hall, glad for once that she’s never listened to me when I’d told her to put them somewhere less obvious for thieves to find.

  In a daze I methodically loaded up her SUV with the dog food, Maggie’s dog bed, and anything else dog related I could find. The dog herself was unsettled, pacing back and forth between what I was doing and Lucy and Alan. I tried not to think and just do. I grabbed a framed photo of Lucy and Alan on their wedding day on my way out. That was how I wanted to remember them. Not like…

  “Come on, Mags. Come with me.”

  She whined again and sat down. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, praying for patience. She was too big for me to do anything if she didn’t want to come. “Come on,” I said again and whistled. I held up her lead. She perked up and trotted towards me. She jumped in the back of the SUV happily enough. It was familiar. It was normal. Poor dog.

  Once home, the dog barrelled past me into the house. Gertrude the cat was caught off guard, and hissed at the unwelcome intruder before diving behind the couch. Great. My mind shied away from thinking about what had just happened and I went through the motions of bringing Maggie’s things in from the car. I barely noticed the rain.

  I ran myself a hot shower and scrubbed myself all over. I wondered if there was any point. I was willing to bet all my money that I’d been exposed to the virus. I wondered abstractly if I’d still be alive this time next week. I stood in the shower until the water ran cold.

  I tried to call Tristan but it went straight to voicemail. I wandered aimlessly around the house, at a loss as what to do. Maggie followed me from room to room. I stared at her. I needed to tell Lucy and Alan’s families. They needed to know.

  The only way I could think to contact them was through Facebook. I stared at the blinking curser for a long time, wondering what on earth I should write. How the fuck do you tell someone their kid is dead? I kept deleting what I started typing. In the end I settled on a short, brief message asking them to call me as soon as possible.

  I dreaded those phone calls.

  I lost myself on Lucy’s page. She didn’t post very often anymore. Most of her recent posts were pictures of Maggie. There were a lot of photos from when we were younger though. I went through her entire album, pouring over her pictures. The wedding, that year we were all in Canada together, European backpacking trips, our annual beach camping trips, old uni photos… she looked so happy in all of them. How could she possibly be gone? It didn’t make sense.

  My phone rang. I jumped. I reached out for it, both dreading and hoping that it was Lucy or Alan’s families. I breathed a sigh of relief when Tristan’s name flashed up.

  “Hey, baby,” I said in a whisper. I didn’t quite trust my voice.

  “Hey, I’m back in Canada,” he said. “Mum and Dad were already on their way back to the Island so I’m just crashing at Ben’s tonight. It’s pretty late here.”

  “Okay,” I said, wondering how to break the news to him.

  “Are you okay, Allie?”

  “No,” I said honestly.

  “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  “No. Not yet anyway. I…” God, it was still so hard to say.

  Tristan waited. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Alan’s sightless eyes in my mind. I shuddered.

  “Allie?”

  “I’m sorry. This is hard to say.” I took a deep breath. “I have really horrible news.”

  “What is it?”

  Deep breaths, in and out. In and out.

  “Alice, what is it? You’re scaring me here.”

  “Lucy and Alan are both dead,” I blurted out with a wail. It wasn’t any easier saying it the second time.

  “No! Fuck. No! Are you serious? Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I said with a sob. “I found them. A few hours ago.”

  Tristan swore again. “I can’t believe this.”

  I started crying again and could hear Tristan crying on the other end of the line.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Allie. Fucking hell. I wish I was there with you.”

  “I miss you so much right now, Tristan.”

  “I miss you too, baby,” he said quietly.

  “This is so fucked up. I’m scared I’m going to get sick now. Charlotte’s caught it,” I said, breathing hard.

  “Ah, no,” Tristan said with a moan.

  “Everyone’s fucking sick and dying!” My breathing came faster and faster. I felt like I was going to start hyperventilating.

  “… I don’t know what to say. I feel so helpless.” Tristan’s voice came through quiet and sad.

  “I just… just stay healthy for me, yeah? I don’t think I can handle losing you too. Although I might be dead in a few days, so I…” I swallowed my words.

  “Don’t say that. Why do you keep saying that?” I’d never heard Tristan sound so miserable.

  “I’m sorry. I’m scared. The virus is so contagious and I was around people who died from it. I’m so sorry, Tristan.”

  “Babe, you don’t know that you’ll get it.”

  I didn’t say anything for awhile.

  “I don’t know what to do about their bodies.”

  “Huh?”

  “They’re at home. They weren’t in a hospital. They’re still there, in their living room. I took the dog with me, but…”

  “This is so messed up,” Tristan muttered. “Maybe you should call the police? They can let the families know too perhaps.”

  “Yeah… good idea. I should do that now.”

  “Okay. Call me if you need to talk. It doesn’t matter what time. I’ll keep my phone on loud. I love you, Alice. I’m so sorry about Lucy…”

  I bit my lip, trying not to cry again. “I love you too.”

  A headache was forming. I lay down on the couch, wondering whether it was a sign I was getting sick or just a side effect from all the crying. I was utterly drained and spent. I don’t know how long I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was Lucy and Alan’s lifeless faces.

  It was useless. I went into the kitchen figuring I should probably eat something. I hadn’t had anything since breakfast. I didn’t have the energy or willpower to make anything more demanding than toast. I sat, staring at it for a few minutes before I picked it up and took a bite. It felt dry and tasteless in my mouth. I forced myself to chew, but gave the rest to Maggie, who had been watching me (well, the toast) the whole time and had a big pile of drool forming down the front of her furry chest.

  The phone calls I needed to make hung over me. I googled what to do with a dead body. Tristan had been right. Apparently the police needed to be informed. I looked up the local police number, figuring the emergency line wasn’t the appropriate number. It wasn’t an emergency after all.

  I steeled myself to make the call.

  The phone rang out. I tried again, but still no answer. On the third attempt a woman’s voice finally answered.

  “Footscray Police Station, how can I assist you?” she said quickly.

  I took a deep breath, hoping that I could g
et through this without crying again.

  “Um… I, uh, I need to report a dead person. Two people. My friends. They’re dead. I found their bodies.”

  “Are you certain they’re deceased?”

  “Yes. Very certain. They had that red flu.”

  “I see. Where are the deceased?”

  “At their home.”

  “Were you in contact with the deceased?”

  “Yes…”

  “Okay. You’re going to need to self-quarantine and avoid all public places to avoid exposing anyone else.”

  “Oh. Um, right. Okay,” I stammered.

  The policewoman asked for more details and I gave her Lucy and Alan’s address and personal details.

  “Thank you. I’ll have the appropriate people sent over when we get a chance. You don’t need to be there.”

  “Okay. Um, thanks.”

  “I should warn you that it might take a little while. We’re stretched very thin at the moment.”

  “Okay. I understand.”

  “I’m sorry about your friends,” the policewoman said quietly before hanging up. I wondered how many calls like mine she’d received that day.

  Just before I was about to go to bed, Alan’s sister Claire called. It was one of the hardest conversations I’d ever had. She thanked me for letting her know.

  I didn’t sleep that night.

  Chapter Eight

  ATTENTION CITIZENS OF MELBOURNE

  The Greater Melbourne Metropolitan Area is now under a state of quarantine and isolation.

  The goal of this quarantine is to protect the residents on Victoria. All schools and businesses will be closed until the threat of current pandemic virus had passed. All public gatherings are hereby cancelled until further notice.

  All residents are asked to cooperate with the authorities in this endeavour.

  Under no circumstances are residents allowed to leave their homes during Quarantine.

  Medicine, food, and water will be delivered to homes that indicate a need once a week. If you require supplies, please click on the following link to register.

  If you or a member of your residence is infected with the virus it is requested that you put a notice of some sort at the entrance of your property. For more information, call the dedicated information hotline, or go to the following website.

  The whole thing felt surreal. I thought I would surely wake up soon. Quarantine was declared the day after Lucy and Alan died. Other regional centres followed suite, either hoping to keep the deadly virus out, or at least to mitigate it’s spread.

  I couldn’t think straight. My mind and emotions reeled from what had happened to Lucy and Alan, and I was worried sick about my niece. It didn’t help that I was all alone, with only Gertrude and Maggie for company. Maggie was a constant reminder that Lucy was gone, and Gertrude spent most of her days hiding either under the bed (Maggie was too big to fit under there) or on top of the closet.

  Mum called me three times a day, every day, to check up on me. Tristan and I tried FaceTiming a couple of times, but the connection was so bad we had to give up and resort to instant messaging which was beginning to be not so instant. I knew he and Mum both were extremely worried about me getting sick and dying as well, but I tried not to focus on it. It was hard, though. I became hyper aware of my body, watching for a hint of any symptoms and becoming paranoid when I felt even the slightest bit achey or tired.

  I lost weight. My appetite had disappeared that horrible day, and it hadn’t come back. The thought of eating made me feel ill, but I forced myself to eat least a few bites of something a couple of times a day. Tristan and Mum both kept telling me I needed to keep my strength up.

  I messaged Sarah every morning and evening. Charlotte was hanging on. She and Chris were still healthy, touch wood.

  My brother and his girlfriend had cleared out of town and quarantined themselves at Dad’s old bush cabin. Despite all the precautions the medial personnel had taken, many of them were still falling ill and dying. If they were infected they figured no one else would catch it from them. There were no other people around for miles.

  “I feel torn, Alice,” Tom had said to me just before they’d left. “A big part of me feels like I should stay here and help, but I’m scared.”

  “You’ve already helped a lot,” I said. “Don’t feel guilty. You need to look after yourselves as well. You don’t need to be martyrs. You won’t be able to help anyone ever again if you’re dead. I couldn’t stand to lose you too.”

  I got used to the army driving around in their trucks with loudspeakers, telling everyone to stay in their homes. I stopped paying attention to them. The message was always the same. I had enough food to last me months, so I didn’t bother signing up for any of the packages they were dropping off. Besides, I’d mostly lost my appetite and I figured I’d probably be dead within the week. The food should go to people who actually needed it.

  I didn’t hear back from Lucy’s mother. Perhaps Claire had gotten in touch with her. I wondered if she was even alive to read the message I’d left. My days had turned into mind numbing TV show and movie binges, in a vain attempt to keep my mind from dwelling upon the death and chaos surrounding me. I stuck to comedies and avoided anything that might make me cry or think too much or remind me of Lucy. Books were no good. It was all too easy to start thinking about things I didn’t want to think about when I had a book in my hand, or just read the same paragraph ten times over with still no idea what it was that I’d just read.

  I finally heard from Dad on the fourth day of Quarantine.

  “Alice, thank goodness.” Dad’s voice came through surprisingly clear and full of relief. Most of the calls I’d had the past day or so had been terrible quality.

  “Dad! Where are you? How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Gill’s fine. We just got to Mataranka. We only just heard about the pandemic and quarantine. What the hell’s going on?”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “It’s chaos down here, Dad.”

  “But you’re okay?”

  “I haven’t gotten sick yet, no,” I said slowly. I wouldn’t exactly class myself as ‘okay’ by any means. I’d never been less okay in my life.

  “Is Tristan all right? I can’t get ahold of your brother or sister.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat so I could speak. “Tristan’s still in Canada. They closed the border before he could get through.”

  “Oh, love. I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

  “Yeah… Tom’s at your cabin with Yi-Ling. We haven’t heard from them since they left, but you know there’s no mobile service up there, so I don’t know how they are. They were healthy when they left though.”

  “Right. That’s…” Dad seemed to be lost for words. “What about your sister? I couldn’t get through to her either.”

  “Service is pretty patchy down here at the moment. I got a text from her this morning, though. She said she was fine. But, Dad… Charlotte’s sick.”

  Dad groaned. “Oh no. Oh no, no.”

  “She might get better,” I said weakly.

  “It’s in God’s hands,” he said solemnly. “We will pray for her.” It still sounded weird, hearing Dad talk about God. He’s only started talking like that after he met Gillian. He’d never seemed very religious when we’d been kids. We were strictly a church at Easter and Christmas kind of family, and even that had tapered off after Grandma had died when we’d been teenagers.

  “How about your mother?” Dad asked after I was silent for a moment.

  “Strong as an ox, as always.” Mum hardly ever got sick.

  “Good, good. And you? You’re sure you’re all right?”

  The lump in my throat felt like it was expanding and I could barely talk around it.

  “It’s… no… I have some bad news.”

  “What is it, love?” Dad asked when I didn’t say anything else. I took a few more breaths. This wasn’t getting any easier.

  “You r
emember my friend Lucy?”

  “Of course I remember Lucy,” Dad said slowly. “What’s happened?”

  “She’s dead. Her husband too. I found them… Please don’t say they’re in a better place.”

  “Oh, Alice. That’s terrible. I’m so very sorry.” He paused. “I always liked Lucy. She was a good sort. Alan too.”

  “Yeah, they are. Were. Shit. I’m not used to it.” I sniffed and clenched my jaw.

  “I’m so sorry, love.”

  “How is it up there?” I asked.

  “Bit surreal to be honest,” Dad said. “Apparently there’ve been some cases in Katherine. That’s about 100 clicks away. None here yet though. Gill and I have talked it over - we’re going to stock up and head bush for a couple of weeks. Avoid people and see if we can wait it out or something.”

  “Good idea. It’s horrible.”

  “You’ve got enough food? Water’s still running?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I stocked up before Quarantine. And yeah, the water’s still running and the power’s still on, most of the time.”

  “Might be prudent to fill up the bath tub and some big containers with water, just in case.”

  “Yeah, I will.” I’d have to keep Maggie out of the bathroom to make sure she didn’t slobber in it.

  “I’m sorry, love. The battery is beeping at me. I think it’s about to run out. I love you, and I’m so very sorry about your friends.”

  “Okay, Dad. Try and get in contact when you can. You guys take care of each other.”

  “Will do. I think I’d rather battle the crocs and snakes than this virus by the sounds of it.”

  I almost laughed. “Love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, Alice. Take care of yourself.”

  I didn’t pray, but I hoped to the bottom of my soul that they’d both be fine and survive.