Just Survive

Prologue

- Ashley Gray -

I sit notepad in hand and a pen twisting between my fingers. I'm watching a doctor in a long, white coat gather his instruments for the procedure about to take place. A body lays straight, back on the metal table, dead. The body is completely pale, as white as a crisp sheet of paper. Limp limbs hang at their side, never to move again. The clothing of a hospital gown clings hopelessly to his decaying skin, all soon to wither and leave the body as bare as a heap of bones.

Working in a Disease Control Centre means we need to work with any material and substance known to man. We create, cure and disguise diseases which could wipe out the entire country or even worse; the world.

It wasn't a massive procedure, but in this case, we are making a substance that can make our soldiers in the army stronger and abler. You may be wondering why we're using a dead body instead of an alive one; well, I can explain that. We want to know if we can bring our soldiers back to life after getting shot by the opposition. Hopefully, if that part works, they will also be stronger. Their newfound strength allowing them to continue their mission to kill our enemy. We'll have to wait and see for the confirmation of the hypothesis.

I find it ridiculous though. I have to do a job that I didn't originally sign up for. I do it day in and day out, creating diseases instead of fixing the mess that the human population have already created. Why bring back a human life so that they can experience the horrific feeling of death all over again? It's not what I signed up for.

I can't complain. I didn't get a degree in Biochemistry for anything. Working in this field was my dream since high school, I've always enjoyed learning about how our body works and if we can change it in any way, and I'm now getting my chance. Not to mention that we only have one life, we have to keep this planet alive even if the way we do it is backwards.

The substance we are working with today is 'VI19'. Yes, that means we've already tried eighteen other substances, none have worked so far.

"Hi." A cordial voice sounds to me from my right-hand side. I peek in the voice's direction, seeing a colleague of mine, Heather, take the empty seat beside me. Other than the two of us, only ten other people were filling the thousands of seats in the operating theatre. This procedure, in particular, is extremely confidential. As a twenty-six-year-old, recently graduated student, it was a privilege to have the chance to sit in this seat, I felt lucky, to say the least.

"Good morning." I greet Heather, friendly smiles emanating from our faces. I met Heather on my flight to America, a hell of a coincidence that we were both on our way to our first day at the DCC. She even had the window seat beside me. We were good friends but I never had a friend good enough to tell my secrets too. I was never that popular but it didn't phase me. I like to get my work done fast, giving me time to enjoy relaxation.

"How was your weekend?" I ask, creating small talk before the procedure was to start.

"It was excellent, I must say." Heather's Oxford posh accent shines through as she continued to eloquently describe her weekend activities. I do like Heather like I enjoy most people's company, but, I've always noticed her behaviour was much too similar to those of higher status, especially compared to my fairly rough background. As a teenager who left her family to pursue a wild dream, no one but my brother believed in me. Whereas Heather's entire family ushered her into this position. I wish I had the support, though it would have made it harder to leave.

"I'm glad," I reply as the lights over us dim and the ones above the doctor brighten. I ready myself to begin observing the scene before me, knowing I must get every detail.

"I bet we'll gather zero results again. This whole business is becoming pointless." Heather quietly chuckles with a roll of her eyes to signal her frustration with the endless experiments. I agree and I wish this would be over soon so we can do something new. As much as I should enjoy my dream job, I can't deny that sometimes it becomes rather tedious.