"They're putting up a fence," my words fell on deaf ears. No one seemed to care what was going on across the street, the hospital was old news to them. In fact, Mom was just happy she got out when she did. Normally she's there from noon to midnight, but with them bringing in those patients from DC, she decided to take the midnight to eight shift. Mom said she could help out better at night. Don't let the sweet parental white lies fool you, the truth is, the patients are normally passed out from a shit load of drugs by the time midnight rolls around. That shift is easy street for a nurse.
I watched her, leaning on the armrest of Sarah's seat. Their attention was fixed on the television. Countless News reports were flying in. Now, unless you've been living under a rock on Mars, I'm sure you know that the world kind of went to hell. Some crazy virus hit Russia and when I say crazy I mean, end of the world crazy. Well their world, everything over the ocean was off limits to us. America decided to cut ties with the rest of the world. It wasn't really all that hard, we already had that wall up blocking out Mexico and South America. So, why not go into total isolation and ride this virus out, right? No flights were to go in or out, the military was stationed at every coast, at every borderline. We thought we were safe, but judging by the madnesses outside my window.
We were wrong.
"Remain inside, and whatever you do...stay away from the infected. The virus can be transferred through bodily fluids, such as blood..." The News report was filling up our apartment now, drowning out the sounds of the police in the street, yelling into the crowds.
"Get back! Get back!" I've seen some youtube videos of the infected, like Zombie Boy. Not the badass with the tattoos and piercings, the one with the mom filming her son in the hospital. He was chained to the bed. His eyes were white and he kept opening his jaw so wide that he tore the corners of his mouth. The video cut off when he started biting into his own arm. It was crazy, look it up if you got the stomach for it. I ignored the News, for the most part, it was all fake. They never really got to the heart of the matter, everyone was worried about the infected and now how they got here. My attention was on my phone, which was blowing up with all the alerts and messages, most were friends trying to see if I was okay, the alerts were tweets about the outbreak. Aaron's stood out the most.
'Jason's getting worse. I hoped he had a bug or maybe a hangover. But his burning up & vomiting. It's the flu, I know it is. #help'
Aaron Smith was a gossip blogger. Think TMZ with a splash of Jerry Springer, that's what Aaron wrote about. I can't knock it because I read it like I'm a crack addict and his my dealer. Jason is Aaron's boyfriend, I don't know much about him, but according to these tweets...Aaron might be writing his obituary soon. I thought we were safe, but I was so wrong. I don't really know what happened, all I recall the most was the scream. An ear-splitting, heart-stopping scream. It woke me from my sleep. I felt my heart trying to tear out of my chest. I tossed the covers off of me and shot for the door. When I got halfway down the hall my heart wasn't scared of the screaming anymore, it was terrified of the blood.
There was so much of it. When I took a step forward I slipped. I watched as my world literally turned upside down. I was an inch from the dark red river when I felt a pair of hands grab hold of me. Her hands saved me and pulled me back into my room, but not before the image of my mother, screaming and fighting for her life could burn its way into my memory banks. They tore into her with their hands and their teeth. I was crying because I didn't know what to do, and Sarah was crying because she knew, there was nothing that could be done. Sarah's hands saved me, but all I could think was, why couldn't those hands have saved my mom? Balled up in tears, I kept my back pressed against the door. My mother's screams and my phone created a haunting melody for me that night. One alert after another. One cry after another.
'He was still sweating and moaning when we went to bed, and not in a good way. I wanted to go to the doctor, he said no #cantsleep'
'I passed out for an hour or so & when I woke up Jason had me pinned down to the bed. He was snapping, no biting at me! #itsnottheflu'
'He wouldn't get off me! He wouldn't stop! OMG! OMG! I think, I think...I think his dead. I know he is. I stabbed him #12times'
'He got back up! He kept trying to bite me. I pushed him and he fell over the balcony. He's dead, my boyfriend's dead #whatdidIdo'
My Name is Rachel Johnson.
I'm now an orphan and this is my story.