Outbreak

Chapter 12

Michael

For the first time ever, I'm on the night watch. 

When we finished dinner, I offered to Quinn to take over for her. She wasn't looking well, and gratefully accepted when I offered. I haven't been able to sleep lately anyway; having your mind dormant for five months and your body controlled by an unknown infection leaves no lack of energy.

The memory of Quinn revealing the infected arm replays in my mind as I look out over the shadow-cloaked suburbs, and remorse cuts through me like a knife. I wince and grit my teeth in shame. I should have tried to stop myself, even delay the creature controlling me long enough for one of the group to kill me. Then at least one human would have been safe from becoming an Earth-bitten.

At least one. How many humans did I kill before Emmett cured me? I shut my eyes to block out the thought. No point dwelling on it now, not after the damage has already been done and there's nothing I can do about it.

An icy breeze blows over me, and I shiver and retract into the wicker chair I'm huddled in. I peer through the gaps in the railing standing in between me, focusing on the silhouette of a zombie, illuminated by the moon, that's trudging slowly down the street. 

I hear the door open behind me, and see that it's Eric, clutching two fluffy blankets and looking exhausted. He tosses the blanket to me and plops down on the ground near the edge of the balcony, wrapping the blanket around him. Determination is set on his face, like he's never going to sleep again. 

"You, uh, okay?" I say after gratefully covering myself in the blanket. He sighs and shakes his head. 

"Just... can't sleep," he mutters. I nod. 

"I get it. It's like I've been asleep the past few months. I can't believe I was one of them..." I trail off. He turns to face me. "What's it like, now that you're... not a zombie anymore?" I think for a few moments. "I feel... guilty." Because of how many humans I must have killed. "Afraid." What kind of world was I brought back into? "Relieved." Now I can't do any more damage to the human race. "Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it." Eric nods thoughtfully. "Just think, you're probably the first of many that are going to be cured, once Emmett works how to recreate the cure." I brighten at the thought. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, I speak again.

"Did you have any other family before the outbreak?" He lowers his head, and I'm about to apologize when he replies. "Yeah," he says sadly. "A mom and a dad. Also a sister and a brother. Grandparents, cousins, whatever." He clears his throat. "Doesn't matter, anyway. They're gone now. I don't really think about it." This tells me the subject is closed.

I wonder if my family is still out there.

Ezran

"UP AND AT 'EM, PEOPLE!" 

I groan loudly, grab my pillow, and smash it into my face, trying to block out my sister's bright voice, but she persists. 

"COME ON PEOPLE! WE GOT A FULL DAY AHEAD OF US!" 

She is way too energized to have just woken up. No way I'm related to her. 

"Okay, okay..." My stiff joints crack as I throw off my blanket and stand, stretching. Quinn pulls open the curtains of the living room, and the warm sunlight seeps into the room. Ivy and Taylor are already up, and making... breakfast? It must be a girl thing - Jason, Emmett, Mal, and I are still getting up. I give Quinn an exasperated look. "Give us a minute, crazy lady. We just woke up, we can't all be morning people." 

As I speak, Mal stands up from the couch, gets his uninjured leg tangled in a blanket, and falls over with a thud. He doesn't move, and starts to snore.

My sister rolls her eyes and walks back to the kitchen to help with breakfast.

After everyone's awake and Michael descends from the balcony, bleary-eyed and exhausted, we all sit at the table. While Taylor dishes out canned pears and peaches with bacon I look at Quinn expectantly. "Okay, what's your plan for our full day today?" She looks at me, surprised. "Oh, I just said that so you lazy people would get up." 

Emmett and Mal have to literally hold me back from strangling her as she hums and eats her food.

Eric trudges down from downstairs holding an old radio. What's he going to do, listen to music? It's not like there's anyone out there, anyway. He sets it down on the kitchen counter, then seats himself at the table.

As he sits down next to me, I stare at him. He has bags under his eyes, and he looks like he hasn't slept all night.

"Eric, did you sleep at all last--" 

"I found a radio upstairs, behind all the boxes," he interrupts me. No crap. 

"I thought it might be of use," he continues tiredly. "We can leave it on, just in case anyone tries to reach us. The batteries are unused and everything." Ivy shrugs. "Fine by me." The rest of the group murmurs in agreement. 

"So, what is the plan for today?" Jason asks. Emmett looks at Eric. "I'm going to keep working on the cure, if that works for the group." Eric nods, and looks at each group member individually. 

"Today is going to be just like any other. Mal, teach Michael the basic fighting techniques, and how to work a gun and sword. Ezran--" His exhausted voice is cut off with the sound of blaring static. I swing my head in the direction of the sound.

The radio.

I jump up and run over to it. The static noise continues, and then magically, wonderfully, the vague sound of a tinny, but more importantly, human, voice comes through. After a few pauses, the pieces of speech come together to form a string of buzzing words,and  the whole group leans in to make out the sentence.

"....anyone out there............underground bunker........ safe.....................zombies.... survivors......" 

I draw breath as quickly and quietly as I can, so I can't miss a syllable.

"......find us....... Grissom .................... Base......Indiana........................ safety.......apocalypse....." the radio returns to static, then switches off. We sit in stunned silence. Suddenly I turn to the group, a smile stretching so far across my face it strains my cheek muscles. 

Ivy rips out her phone from her pocket and punches in some words on Google Maps. After a few seconds, she looks up at us with shining eyes. 

"It's a seven hour drive," she whispers breathlessly. "We'll be there by tomorrow."