Salvation

o n e

 
Present Day

 
I have felt many things when waking up in the morning. I’ve felt fatigued or disappointment and occasionally excitement for the day ahead. But I have never experienced this feeling as of now. My legs feel like led, my head is pounding, and my stomach is churning like waves in a storm. Some may say it is dread, others would say it’s anxiousness, I say it is both and everything in between.

I don’t want to wake up and I really don’t want to open my eyes because I know once I do the day begins and there is no going back from there.

I open my eyes anyways. My room is still dark so there’s nothing much to see. I can hardly make out my bag in the corner or my laptop on my desk. A slight chill runs through me as I catch sight of my calendar, today is circled in bright red brandishing the number zero—Day Zero.

Ignoring the sharp pain in my chest I slip out under the covers. Padding over to my cupboard I take out my black jeans and pull my grey shirt over my head. My mind is already spinning in circles, so I try to ignore my fretful thoughts and focus on my goal instead.

My goal of getting out of this country.

15 March 2020

 
A heavy silence descends on the Lambert family as they finish watching the international broadcast of Lockdown. The United States of America was to shut down after millions of people were reported to have contracted the Cyber virus across the country. Officials said it was transmitted through any form of physical contact of humans and domestic animals. No one knows how it started but what they do know is that it only takes 22 hours for it to kill you.

''Daddy, does this mean I won't be doing my school play anymore?" Chelsey speaks up breaking the silence.

Her father lets out a humourless laugh. “Oh, Chelsey. We won’t be doing anything for a long, long time.” 

Chelsey frowns. “What about golf? We always play golf on Sundays…”

Amanda tunes out her sister’s meaningless questions. She knew they did not matter because nothing would be the same. Though, what struck her as odd was how sudden all of this seemed to be happening. Questions and theories immediately started forming in her intelligent young mind but one nagging question makes it to the forefront of it. 

Cutting Chelsey short of her question she asks, "How long will this last for?''

Present Day
 

 My older brother, Jackson, told me Lockdown would be over after a few months. He reasoned that the virus would either kill us all or die out. He believed in the latter option. What we didn’t expect, five years later, was for it all to be a lie. Those millions of people did not die; they disappeared taking my brother with them.

 As a skeptical 19-year-old, I immediately started questioning these disappearances and started looking for information around the internet. Unsurprisingly, I was soon locked out of the web which left me with very few resources and websites to browse.

Instead of leaving it alone–which would have been wise–it only made me more curious. I turned this event over and over in my mind and kept coming back to the same question.

Why would you monitor something if you’ve got nothing to hide?

 
18 Months Ago

 
Amanda’s fingers ached as she continued to type away on her laptop. She had been doing this for months, hacking endless websites and cracking various codes, to try and find answers to her suspicions. Nothing sufficed. The internet was filled with fake news and hoaxes that tried to catch people probing for answers. Although today was different because today was the day she found the file.

"Project Ambroshyde?"

After clicking on the file an unstable video started to play featuring an ageing man in a white lab coat. He stood at the centre of the screen pointing at various graphs and explaining something or the other. Halfway through the video, a young adult was escorted into the room wearing a loose-fitting jumpsuit imprinted with the number #157. He looked sickly. His skin was a colour of pale white which was sunken and bruised. His hair was thinned to look like someone much older and harsh lines ruled his face.

The professor took a hold of him and roughly shoved him into a chair. He then began connecting all different wires to his head and cuffed his wrists to the chair. Lastly, he covered the man's mouth with an oxygen mask. He turned back towards the screen with a sickening gleam in his eyes. Smiling slightly, he raised his hand to reveal a control pad with dials and buttons. He slowly and methodically ran his fingers over it countless times when he suddenly stopped and pushed a button.

 
Present Day

 
I blanch as I recall the memory.

After the professor pressed the button, test subjects #157’s mask filled with an orange gas. His eyes filled with panic and he started thrashing around in the chair struggling to get free. His body suddenly stiffened and his eyes fluttered close. Then he started to shake. Slight tremors ran through his body and they only became more violent as time passed. Soon his whole body was convulsing and twisting in unimaginable directions. All the while the professor watched him with nothing less than a grin stretched across his face.

That is where I stopped the video.

Attached to the file were countless documents, from the past five years, of people taken in for this experiment. I found my brother among them. People are still disappearing every week, heard of one day and gone the next. For all I know I could be escaping just in time before I'm taken too.

This mission is the biggest risk I have ever taken. I need to travel to the Canadian border in just over a month without any personal electronics and without getting caught. What I am taking with me is a USB stick that has all the information and evidence I’ve collected over these past months. Once I manage to give it to Canada’s headquarters all I can do is hope that they believe me—believe that our government wants to release a chemical that allows them to have complete control over its citizens.

With a jolt, I realise I've made it to the front door. I step back and look around at the familiar entrance hall, the same hall where I once used to chase my sister, Chelsey, out of to get to school. The same hall where Jackson used to drag me out to go enjoy “mother nature’s wonderful gift”. I can see the door that leads to the kitchen where my mother and I have had many baking failures. And the living room which holds fond memories of our family all sitting together laughing hysterically while watching our favourite comedy.

I swallow the lump in my throat and shake my head. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave everything I have known behind and start anew. I don’t want to lose myself, but I made this decision 18 months ago when I watched that video. People’s lives are in danger, there is no room for me to be selfish if I want to save them. But that doesn’t stop my heart from telling me to stay here, to stay true to myself.

Taking a deep breath, I ignore the ache inside me and walk forth into the darkness. Even though this may be the end of my heart, it's only the beginning of my story.