4:57 AM - I wake up. Lying on my makeshift bed under the green hue, I turn on my phone, but there's no signal, no missed calls. I kiss the picture of my girls and say good morning. My chest tightens as reality sinks in. I need to get back to them.
Yesterday, I scavenged through all the lockers and pedestals with my master keys, searching for supplies. In my line of work, my colleagues would often lock themselves out. I guess I won't have to do that again.
I'd stocked up on the shelves with things I thought would be vital: protein shakes, multivitamins, paracetamol, and even some luxuries like deodorant and toothpaste. It's ironic how small things like this are now considered luxuries.
I created a routine. I'd sweep the floors, ensure all the doors were secure, and check on my colleagues trapped in the offices. The glass panels around the offices were frosted, not that it mattered from what I'd discovered; they couldn't see a thing.
6:00 AM - After my sweep, I sit down at my usual spot in the breakout area overlooking the atrium as the sun slowly fills the massive void. This morning, I eat a brown banana, drink a protein shake, and take a vitamin tablet. I have enough to last at least three months.
6:30 AM - I brush my teeth over the kitchen sink, grateful there's still running water. Heading to the toilet, I'm greeted by the familiar moans of my morning visit.
7:43 AM - The remains of some of my colleagues who hadn't turned lay scattered around the office. I'd been putting it off, but I needed to remove them; the smell was getting worse, filling the void of the office.
I stood over Kathy, unsure what to do. I had nowhere to bury her or any of them. I thought about throwing them over the balcony on the roof, but that felt too disrespectful. Plus, trying to carry them up the stairs seemed like a lot of work. I knew I could pull the blinds down in one of the meeting rooms and drag them in there. I'd use some duct tape to seal the door. I'd prefer if the smell was contained. First things first, I needed to go to the roof.
7:23 AM - I head up to the roof to see if anything had changed outside the building. It hadn't; the streets below were still a macabre tableau of lifeless, soulless figures. If I was going to get back to my family, something drastic needed to happen. Suddenly, I hear chirping from one of the beds of plants. I look closer, to see broken egg shells and a duck with ducklings under her. The duck hisses at me, and I jolt back. Wow, I thought in this world gone to shit, life still finds a way. My thoughts suddenly turned to Nelah and how much she would love to see them. Circling above were seagulls; I knew exactly what they wanted. I headed back to the office floor and grabbed a box; I needed to save the ducklings.
7:43 AM - Back on the roof, I managed to throw a jacket over the duck and get her in the box. She was quacking away while the ducklings tried to follow. One by one, I scooped them up and put them in the box. I couldn't see anymore, but I decided to count the egg shells to see if I'd gotten them all. Ten, I've only got nine. Crap. I hear chirping on the other side of the terrace. I slowly walk towards it, careful not to scare it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a huge seagull swooping towards the duckling. I run full pelt and dive for the baby duck.
I open my eyes in a daze. I must have hit my head. The duck, I think to myself. There's a sudden chirping in my ear; cuddled into my neck was a furry little creature. "You're OK," I say out loud. I pick the little duckling up and put it in the box with its family.
9:57 AM - I set up one of the meeting rooms as a new home for the duck and her family. There are some dish bowls for swimming, a low bowl for drinking, and some clothes in a box on its side for them to sleep.
10:34 AM - OK, I thought to myself. There are seven colleagues to move. I put on a mask, goggles, marigolds that I found under the sink, and wrapped myself in a few layers so I didn't get any nasty fluids on me. I took my colleagues one by one on my trolly, which was low with a surface of 150 cm by 1 meter. I took them into their new resting place. It was difficult seeing people I'd worked with for years lifeless, covered in blood and chunks taken out of them, some unrecognizable.
I sealed the door with duct tape and figured I should say a few words. "Erm .... sorry that your lives were taken so suddenly .... I hope that wherever you are now, you are at peace." I stuck a piece of paper with their names on to the door in case anyone was to find them one day.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I sat with the ducks and fed them; they started to get used to me, and the mum would even sit next to me.
YOU ARE READING
Plague City
УжасыIn the heart of London, a once-thriving metropolis, a nightmarish plague descends like a shroud. The streets, once bustling with life, now echo with the desperate cries of the afflicted. Blood stains the cobblestones, and the scent of decay hangs he...
