Cryptophobia - Outbreak

CHAPTER 1: 6:45am - 5 Hours until outbreak

It was the sound of the buzzing alarm clock that roused Terry Burnham from his sleep, a sound that had become less frequent to him over the course of the last few years. Ever since his business went bust there was little reason for him to wake up so early. Groaning, he turned his head away from it and tried to drown out the sound with the pillow.

For the first few minutes he ignored the unpleasant sound, burying his face further into his pillow, but when it became unbearable, he outstretched his arm, searching for it without looking. It took a little while, but before long he found it, turned it off and drifted back into a deep sleep.

Or at least he thought he had turned it off, no more than fifteen minutes later, the nefarious little bastard went off again. Typical, he had pressed snooze. Regardless, he accepted defeat and pushed himself up from the bed, opening his eyes slowly. He felt like a mess, what time was it?

Glancing over towards the direction of the alarm clock, he stared at it blankly until his eyesight focused. 7:01, he had already overslept, but he was still good for time. He had an hour to play with, that was enough at least. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat there rubbing his face, groaning and yawning. He could just about remember the events that took place yesterday, a great deal of pathetic self-pity, angry calls to his solicitor, pleading calls to his bank, the usual austerity bullshit.

The overwhelming urge to piss compelled him to get up and head over to the bog. He stood up, turned the alarm clock off, seriously off this time and made his way over to the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. He turned on the bathroom light and pulled out his member before the toilet. If there was one advantage to living alone now, it was that he could leave the toilet seat open without some female constantly bitching about it, a small bit of optimism upon a mountain of cynicism. He glanced up towards the mirror before him, the reflection of himself staring back.

Fuck, he was a mess. He desperately needed a haircut, this long brown hair was growing quite wildly, he was also in serious need of a shave, he looked like a drugged up version of Santa Claus and these half open red eyes weren't helping matters. Moving his jaw in a circular fashion to relieve himself of the ache, he left the toilet seat open and stepped closer to the mirror above the sink. Beneath the blanket of hair that had accumulated over the course of the last month and a half due to stress and lack of self-consideration, was a fairly handsome looking white man, not tall but average height. He wouldn't say he was anything special before, but he still looked a great deal better than he did now, that went without saying. He wasn't particularly muscular or fat, more average build. Finding the time to hit the gym had never been easy, maybe it wasn't too late to try, he was in his late thirties, no job, his responsibilities halved, what excuse did he have? Besides, it might help to get his head straight and return his drive to succeed.

Every little thing made a big difference, so why not start today? The last few months had been hellish, so some more optimism wouldn't do him harm. He sighed and picked up the shaver.

Stepping out of the bathroom beardless and feeling fresher from washing his face, he drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to pour into his little box apartment, filling every little corner. He grabbed a comb and straightened his mess of a hair. Would there be time to get a haircut? He could fit it in if he hurried. He put on his glasses and checked the time again before entering the kitchen, 7:21, he still had time to grab some breakfast. He stepped into the kitchen and turned on the TV, with a flicker he was presented with Jeremy Kyle shouting at some twat as per usual, You're in my house, but you're openly cheating, was the topic. Why these people never sorted out their problems in the privacy of their own homes was anyone's guess, not that he'd waste his time watching it, or maybe it was a little too close to home, either way a change of channel was in order.

He flicked through the news channels, nothing particularly interesting, the war in the Middle East, national reforms, changes to the NHS, a 9 year old girl's battle with cancer, people being forcibly removed from their council houses, unemployment increasing, increased fuel prices, national debt increase, more businesses going bankrupt. It was clear that there were few if any positive factors to be attained from watching the news, a world of misery, death and lack of jobs.

He stopped and left it on Al Jazeera where upon they were interviewing a distraught woman who had lost her entire family and her arms in the process, after her husband reported her gang rape when she returned home half naked, covered in cuts and bruises, trembling and crying. Not only had they slaughtered her entire family as though their lives meant nothing, they proceeded to rape her again. This was a bit much to show so early in the morning, it was a bit much to show at all.

Terry wasn't a religious man, but if a God really did exist, why didn't he intervene and prevent all the cruelty in the world? How could humans be so barbaric? How could fucking monsters like that be allowed to exist in the same world normal folk did?

He opened the drawers and took out a bowl for himself, pouring cornflakes into it. Upon checking the fridge he realised he had no milk.

"Shit! I was supposed to buy some on the way home yesterday", how had it slipped his mind? It looked as though he had no other option. Leaving the bowl on the counter as it was, he took out two slices of bread and stuck them in the toaster, grabbing two eggs while he was at it. Keeping an eye on the time displayed on the TV, he fried the eggs, making himself a brief egg and butter sandwich.

The quick snack took no more than 25 minutes, so after brushing his teeth, changing into something warm, grabbing his keys, wallet and mobile, he was out of the apartment, locking it behind him. The apartment block was far from special, but it was cheap, a luxury at a time like this, temporarily living off benefits until he found another job. He waited for the elevator to come up and descended to the bottom floor. He was greeted by the bitter chill of British spring weather.

There was no car for him to drive, that luxury had been taken from him over three months ago, so getting used to the whole idea of using public transport was now something he had to live with. This whole oyster card thing wasn't so bad once you got used to it, though it wasn't without its share of downfalls, the ridiculous prices for a single journey being part of those downfalls.

He crossed the road and ventured over to the barbers, Joes. It shouldn't take any more than 15 to 20 minutes should it?