Outbreak ('Them or Us' ,Book one)

Chapter 1: Keeping Busy

I got out of the car, slung my backpack over one shoulder and walked up the drive towards my Grandmothers house whilst my mum and my best friend Molly closed and locked the big heavy gates, barricading ourselves within the grounds of the big, old house.

I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be in my own home, I sighed and opened the front door.

We had to stay with my Gran because she had dementia and with talk of infection in London  most people had packed in their jobs altogether, her full-time carer included.

I guess being far out in the countryside had it’s advantages and  the high walls and heavy metal gates that bordered the grounds of the house were a plus.

At least we wouldn’t be caught unawares, 

My Grandma was in the living room knitting, she looked up, confused, then as if a light bulb had been switched on in her head, she got up and shuffled towards me.

“My you’ve grown Jack”, she placed her hand on my face and looked into my eyes, “How old are you now, 16?” she added. 

I laughed, “I’m nineteen Nan!“, today must be one of her good days, on a bad one she just sat there, crying or sometimes screaming, some days she didn’t even get out of bed.

“The Tvs on the whiz again!”, she said pointing at the blank screen.

“All the TV stations have been down for days Gran”, I shrugged my shoulders, a news reporter had been torn apart on last-standing channel three days ago, since then, only emergency broadcasts were aired, “You’re right forgetful you are”, I chuckled. 

She must have been amused because she let out a little laugh, “Well we know what my memories like!”, she tapped the side of her head a couple of times with a finger, “are you visiting for long? I have lot‘s of knitting to do if I‘m going to want a scarf for Winter” She gestured at a mound of wool in front of the chair she’d been sat on,.  It didn’t look like a scarf in the slightest, not that it mattered, it was mid-way through May and if anything it was too hot, not cold.

Molly entered the room, her arms full of boxes and bags, “Where should I put these?”, she quizzed. I looked at my Gran expecting her to reply, but she was looking absently out of the window now, staring off into space. 

“Just put them on the table”, I walked over to her and took half the load, then sat it on the large oak table, “Where’s mum?”

“She’s getting Max out of the car, he was asleep.”

That  explained why Molly had balanced the entire contents of the boot in her arms. Max was my little brother, the most important person in my life. He was the kindest, loving little boy and he wore a permanent smile.

I heard the front door close and then the noise of a key in a door, signifying it had been locked. 

Then my mum walked into the room, her shoulder length blonde hair tied in a ponytail and my baby brother fast asleep in her arms… Well, he wasn’t a baby, he was six years old now, but he was my little brother and with a 13 year age gap, I couldn’t help but feel he was still the little baby who had come 2 month early, just in time for Christmas. I smiled, he looked so peaceful in her arms, so unaware of the dangers that we were surely going to be encountering. 

I crossed over to my mum and she placed my brother into my arms, he was getting pretty heavy now, but he was still short for his age, I pushed his messy blonde hair off his face, sat on one of the heavy, décor armchairs and waited. 

It wasn’t long before my mother spoke up, “We need a plan, we need to get somewhere safe,” she was pacing the room now, Molly slinked into the chair to my right and began biting her nails, she did this whenever she was nervous, seen as that was most of the time I was surprised she had any nails left, my mum continued, “But at the moment, this seems to be the safest place. We’re isolated from most of the nearby villages and we’re far enough from the cities and towns to -”, she slumped to the floor and began to cry, the only distinguishable word between her sobs was ‘why?’