Genesis

Day 33

Massie stared at the door to the hotel room. She didn't know how much time she'd spent here, but she'd lost a lot of weight. And sanity, for that matter. She was tired of listening to the moans of the--what were they called again? Virals?--outside of her room and the noises of them murdering people. Massie had been among the many who had fled to the "safe zone" also known as the Embassy Suites. The police and CDC representatives had supposedly boarded up and guarded the hotel on day 3 of the apocalypse, but within a few hours it had been overrun; leaving Massie and her friend Taylor trapped in a hotel room.

At first, she'd reacted calmly. Obviously, the CDC would get everything under control and would free those who were trapped. Obviously they would be fine with a week's worth of supplies. Obviously they wouldn't be harmed. But as the hours turned to days and days into a week, Massie lost all sense of hope. She'd never had to really care for herself. Hailing from a high-society family where her nanny always took care of her every need and where her father would buy her whatever she so desired, Massie hadn't ever cared to learn how to care for herself. How to do anything. The only time she'd ever gone camping was in her sophomore year of highschool. Her class had taken a trip to a nearby campsite, and they were supposed to use the experience to apply to adulthood--how to care for themselves, etc. Of course, Massie, her friends Cassie and Avery, and her boyfriend Kyle arrived three hours late and via Massie's private jet; each toting a blow-up mattress, portable aircon and a $3,000+ tent; complete with wifi, a bathroom and a kitchen with ready-made food. That was the extent of her experience both outdoors and caring for herself.

Thus, she was at a complete and utter loss as she and Taylor were trapped, alone, in a hotel room.

She fared much better than Taylor. She supposed it was her dominant, bossy nature taking over--when Taylor dissolved into tears, Massie became annoyed. She yelled, she kicked, she berated--anything to get Taylor to stop. But Taylor didn't stop. When it came to week two, Massie was suddenly awoken by the sound of a gun shot. Taylor, the mild-mannered, plain girl Massie had known for close to three months, had shot herself in the head.

At first, Massie didn't know what to do. She vomited. She paced. She wailed. She cried for her mother. But within a few hours, she got it together. She wouldn't let some stupid incident like this ruin her. She wouldn't let herself fall to pieces. She would pull herself together and wait calmly for her daddy to come get her out of this mess.

Her father never came. Three weeks went by and Massie was well out of food. She still had some water, luckily enough, but she didn't have much else. A gun with four bullets. A single piece of jerky. Four water bottles and a full sink. A change of clothes. The rotting body of a dead girl. She was at a complete loss.

By week four, she'd taken to sitting next to the floor-to-ceiling mirror and talking to herself. She'd lost countless pounds and was beginning to look like she was dying herself. Maybe she was.

It was nearing week five when Massie slowly moved toward the door. Day by day, she moved closer to it, until she was mere inches from the outside world.

On day 33, her door flew open and Massie came face-to-face with a girl with a stripe in her hair.

Massie must have blacked out at some point, as she next woke up on top of a hotel bed, in a different room, with no dead bodies in sight. The room was empty and everything was completely silent. No moans from Virals. No sounds of things breaking. Nothing at all.

She slowly sat up, rubbing at her stiff neck. Her stomach grumbled loudly, and she lifted a bony hand to press against her stomach.

"Hungry?" a voice asked from nearby. Massie turned her head and caught sight of a group of six individuals, including a baby, was seated to Massie's right. The girl she'd seen before--the one who had thrown open her door--was the one speaking. She looked a little gruff and very beat up. The side of her head was bandaged, the white strips criss-crossing over one of her eyes; her ankle, the right one, which was crossed over her leg, was wrapped in athletic tape; her arm was covered in small bandages. She wasn't the worst of the group, though. The elderly man next to her brandished a hastily-wrapped stump of an arm and the bulge of a bandage on his side. The others--a teenage boy, an overweight middle-aged man and an older, shocked-looking womann--looked relatively unharmed.

"Yeah," Massie replied. She cringed at the hoarseness of her voice. She hadn't spoken for a while now, with the exception of the quiet mutterings to herself. The girl with the stripe in her hair tossed Massie a bag of freeze-dried fruit. As she slowly began to eat it, the girl spoke up again.

"I'm Hailey. Most people call me Stripes. That's Harold-" she gestured to the elderly man-"that's Hilda-" she motioned to the woman-"that's Timothy and that's Nick'-" she motioned first toward the overweight man and then to the teenage boy. "What's your name?"

"Massie," Massie replied. She munched on a dried apple slice. "Why are you so beat up?" Hailey raised an eyebrow.

"You get to the point, don't you? We just recently escaped from a compound. Not very fun. Lost Josie's mum in the process." The baby in Harold's arms cooed and Massie's eyes latched onto it.

"A baby," she said quietly. "Wow. I didn't know they could, like, survive out here." Hailey nodded slowly.

"With the right care," she replied, frowning slightly. Massie stared for a moment longer and then laid back down on the bed.

"How have you survived? How has the baby survived?" she said. After a moment, "My father is dead isn't he?" The others didn't seem to know how to reply. Harold muttered something about being crazy. Hailey stared. Timothy cleared his throat.

"We've--well, we've just met. I think we've all done different things to live." Massie stared at the ceiling.

"I'm not certain you're truly here." She turned her head to face them, and then turned it to stare at the ceiling again. After a moment, she allowed her eyes to drift closed.

She woke up in a damp cell.

A/N:  Okay! Just wanted to get something out there! Haven't posted forever, I know, I'm sorry! For now, this chapter is going to just be this. I'll upload a part two sometime later! So, so sorry for the late update! Life has been complete chaos!