ACT 1 | This is more than One Apocalypse.
Looking outside the car window, and everyone was lying on the floor, lifeless.. Something had happened. I found out that it was not your average apocalypse. I was not the only survivor, as to what I thought...
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CHAPTER TEN (First Person Point of View) "More than One Apocalypse"
YEAR 2120 - Oct. 19 - 7:50 PM 4 HOURS AND 20 MINUTES AFTERCLOSE CONTACT, AND UNCALCULATED TIME SUBTRACTED FROM MANY NEW CLOSE CONTACTS.
"My name is Alvin Holland. Just call me Al, for short." The man with jet black hair introduced himself.
"My name's Clay, this is my brother, Dylan and he's Art. The girl you're treating is Cass and the other boy is someone we found in the forest." I said while I sat down, "What are you doing here and why aren't you trying to get treated by the Nair Lab? It's not hard to say you didn't have any close contact with those zombies."
Al looked concerned, "What do you mean treated? I don't have to be treated, as far as I know. I'm not bitten!"
Dylan then explained to him about close contacts and how it could still infect him. But while he was telling him the details, Dylan fell to the ground and gripped on his chest. He wasn't feeling well at all. I ran to my brother and tried to help him out. I yelled, "Do something! You're the doctor here!"
Art looked at Alvin and snarled, "He's too young to be a doctor. He looks like an eighteen year old!"
"I may just still be a student but I'm the most experienced here," Alvin came to his aid and brought him to another bed, "I think the symptoms you're saying are correct. He must be experiencing Body Aches and Fatigue. Lucky for you, I have an antidote to make the effects less hard on you."
Without questioning where he got those, I was only thinking about my brother's wellbeing.
Al injected the syringe he had and Dylan seemed to have blacked out.
"Is he okay? Tell me he's okay!" I gripped Al's hand. He smiled and nodded at me, telling me that he would be fine.
25 MINUTES LATER Throughout all those minutes, the room was dead. It was as if there were no person inside, there were no talking.
Alvin seemed to be busy with the Camera Footages and saw that zombies were now inside the building again but the outside became less crowded of the undead.
I tapped his shoulder, asking if he was busy for a little chat. He put down what he was doing and let the both of us sit down on the metal chairs.
"Why are you doing these? Why would you.. help us?" I asked him. He seemed a bit proud of the question and replied, "Because I'm a doctor and that's what doctors do."
I was speechless. No person would be selfless in a situation like this but I was wrong.
Alvin Holland. This man, I owe a lot to this man. Al was the one who reduced the pain that Dylan was enduring. He was the one who stopped the bleeding of the unknown boy. He was the one who removed the gunshots from Cass' left shoulder.
Then, something had hit me. Why were the symptoms not showing up to me? Why weren't there any head aches or any fever? I turned her head and saw Art. He looked okay too.
I walked over to Art who seemed to be annoyed of me approaching. He's lying down on another bed besides Cass and the boy.
"Whad'ya want? I'm trying to get some sleep here." Art told me.
"I just want to talk to you. It's not hard to say that you're being impulsive these past few hours. What's wrong?" I became honest and direct. I wanted to ask about his being and symptoms later, seeming that his actions were the first thing I needed the reasons of.
Art looked like he had just realized something and finally told me his story. He couldn't seem to keep it in.
"Are 'ya sure you wanna listen to me?" He asked. I gestured a Yes and he sighed.
"It's just that.. my mom used to love prophecies and she took most of her time there instead of her two children. My dad, he.. he's in Mars and we lost any contact with him. I had a sister, she had attention even with my mom's addiction for prophecies. What about me? I was bullied at school, forgotten at home and had no friends to count on to. I was alone, always. Then.. My mom died and loneliness grew to me as normal. And because of that, I learned to only count on myself. I never knew how to do things with a team. I never knew anything that a child should know. If others won't do it, I'd risk my life for anything. I mean, no one would even care if I die. No one would mourn for my death. So why am I still alive?" Art said, his eyes were devastated and I could hear the stutters in each word. His whole face was so wet from the endless tears pouring down from his gloomy eyes.
"If you think you're alone, you're not. I'm here for you. We're all here. We'll all survive this, together." I comforted him and gave him a longing embrace.
Art commented, "I'm not this kind of person but.. sorry about yelling at you earlier. They way you fight is also nice, do 'ya mind teaching me?"
I never actually thought he'd open up to me of all people. What made him tell?
