WHEN THE WORLD ENDS

THE BEGINNING

Her eyelids were heavy. It almost hurt to force them apart. As she did, she felt the thick layer of crust between them break, allowing them to flicker open slowly. She could see nothing. Nothing at all. Only a brilliant white light that blurred her vision. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, dispelling the foggy sheet of tears.

Slowly but surely, the world started to form around her and she began to take in her sorroundings. White walls and floor: pristine condition. A blue curtain: drawn around her. A bed: which she was lying in. A drip: which she was wired up to.

She was in hospital. Why was she in hospital? She glanced up at the clock on the wall above her bed.

12:35.

Her brain rattled and as she stood wonkily to her feet she felt nausea overwhelm her. For a few seconds, she stood by the bed, too afraid to move in case she vomited or fell or tripped on something. Putting one foot in front of the other, just as she had learned at the age of two, she moved forward and past the curtain that was drawn around her.

Rebecca Mathers had escaped one form of hell and woken up into another.

She was nearly knocked off her feet when two nurses skirted by, pushing an old man in a wheelchair. Rebecca tried to get a glimpse of him but she didn't need to. The smell was enough; the stench of blood.

Metallic.

She tried to call out to the nurses, "Excuse me!"

They didn't respond. They were far too busy for her. She coughed, realising that her throat was raw and cracked. She carried on. All around her were people lying in hospital beds that looked just as dazed and confused as she felt. Some had their curtains drawn.

She could hear the corridor before she stepped into it. It sounded like a busy marketplace. Crying and shouting with hushed whispers and screaming mixed in for extra effect. People raced past every five seconds: doctors and nurses. Some of them wore protective masks, others were soaked from head to toe in blood and many looked genuinely horrified. Rebecca frowned as she stepped out into the corridor. What could possibly shock a doctor so much?

Three of them rushed past. They dragged a bed behind them. This time Rebecca could see the patient clearly. But she wished she hadn't.

Another man, this one younger, lay on the bed, unconscious. From the waist up he seemed perfectly healthy. But then Rebecca saw his leg. Or rather...where there used to be a leg. Now there was just a stump. The doctors obviously hadn't had time to bandage it because the wound was open for all to see. Blood pumped out in gushing waves and the bed sheets lapped it up like a sponge. Rebecca watched them pass by frantically. What could cause such an injury? An accident maybe. But the leg didn't look cut. Rebecca furrowed her face into an even deeper frown. The way the raw flesh was mangled. It looked like it had been...chewed.

She couldn't hold it any longer. That nauseating feeling twisted her stomach into an excruciating knot and then released. She bent forward, instantly vomiting all over the floor.
Finally, somebody came to her attention. She felt one hand on her back and one on her left arm and she heard a male voice above her, "Better out than in I suppose."

It offered little to no comfort but she felt relief knowing that somebody was by her side. She swallowed, feeling the remnants of sick burn back down her gullet. She coughed.

"Why am I here?"

"Car accident" the male voice replied, "You were brought in about three hours ago. Unconscious."

That was when Rebecca Mathers remembered everything.

The first thing she remembered was the Johnsons, then the missing posters, then the policemen, then the swarm of people, then the woman praying, then the...

She stopped her own train of thought deliberately. She wasn't sure if she wanted to continue.

Then she remembered the boy with the black hoodie, next the sound of constant gunshot, then the crash.
It was all too much. She felt vomit forcing it's way back up her throat. She spilled a second load onto the floor. The hand on her back rubbed gently, trying to comfort her. Again, it was nice to have someone there.

"You really shouldn't be out of bed" the male remarked.

"I'm sorry" she quivered, sniffing back tears and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

"It's okay" he sighed, "I can clean this up. You just go back and rest, okay?"

"No!" Her response was more violent than expected. She grabbed the male on the arm.

She looked up at him, meeting him dead in the eyes with her desperate gaze. She found it difficult to speak due to the pain in her throat but she managed to spit out some words, "What is happening?"

"I just told you" the male frowned and spoke to her like she was a child, "You're in hospital. You've been here for three hours. Car accident."

She shook her head, "You know I'm not talking about that."

- - -

The 'Rest Room' was surprisingly quiet. As Rebecca stepped inside she felt like the chaos and commotion of the corridor outside was finally shut away from her. The male nurse entered behind her and closed the door. Rebecca moved deeper into the room, noticing a pool table, some computers and a children's play area. It was almost...peaceful.

Then she realised why it was so quiet. Everybody in the room was gathered in the same spot. Families, nurses and doctors alike huddled together, all of their eyes glued to the same television screen.

She moved closer.

What she saw on the screen brought all of those horrid memories flooding back. Streets descending into chaos as people turned on each other. It was exactly as she had witnessed just a few hours ago.

A male voice spoke over the footage, "What you are seeing now is footage from around the world: France, China, Russia, Japan, Australia and many, many more. This outbreak is widespread. We do not know what caused it or how to stop it. Rest assured that the whole world is looking for an answer or some kind of cure."

Rebecca recognised the voice. It was the prime minister. She gasped under her breath "shit." This was more serious than she first thought. She didn't want to but she forced herself to keep watching.

As more and more horrifying footage flicked across the screen, the prime minister continued. "It is of vital importance that you do not approach those you suspect are infected. If you see anybody who may be infected, keep quiet, stay indoors and call the authorities, who will be on hand shortly to assist."

One woman left the room, tears streaming from her face. Cradled in her arms was a baby that must've been newborn judging by the size. Rebecca felt tears forming in her own eyes. She tried to sniff them back but they kept coming, reluctant as ever.

"Don't cry Becca" she ordered dominantly in her own head, "just please don't cry."

The world was falling to pieces around her and this was only the beginning. How the hell could she not cry?