Pandemic

Chapter 2 - Infected

2

It wasn’t exactly raining golden drops of melted diamonds in the streets. Echoes from dead people fill every other empty store. It can drive anyone insane. Nearly every master bedroom in every house has at least two dead bodies in it. The smell is awful and the sight is painful. He knows it isn’t really stealing, but it still feels like it. Like he is a robber, taking gold out of Egyptian graves. It doesn’t feel right, so he makes sure he doesn’t take things he doesn’t need. Because he absolutely needed that iPod and the expensive headset. The Spiderman comic books as well. 

This apartment is a mess. There’s water everywhere, like someone has walked around with soaking wet clothes through every room and then just left. He peeks into the bathroom, but there’s nothing there, though there is still water in the tub. A bottle of fine aftershave stands on the shelf over the sink, so he takes it. His bag is nearly filled with stuff he could never afford. Time to move on.

‘You, man with the blue backpack!’ He turns around and sees a woman. Her hair is auburn red, like a sunset. Her face is the sun, and her hair is the sky. She has to be the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. In despair, he drops his backpack and runs towards her. He runs towards her perfection. She is his escape in his filthy life. She is an angel, a goddess. His goddess. No technical equipment is more important to him than being close to her. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know who she is. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know her name. The only thing left to do in his life is to be with her, and he knows it. ‘Get off me!’ she shouts, but it doesn’t help. He needs her more than anything now.

                                                                              ***

  Aria sits in between Matt and Claire. They are observing a man trying to rape some helpless woman down on the street. She has tried to go do something to prevent what obviously is going to happen, but Matt holds her back. He thinks this might have something to do with the virus and that he has seen things like this happen twice before. Aria thinks he’s just being creepy and perverted.

  ‘I’ve been with the two of you for less than an hour and I’m already sick of your crap,’ she hisses and tries to elbow Matt in the stomach. He easily catches her arm and locks it. ‘Sick of it!’ 

 The blue backpack man has managed to pin down the lady behind a bus wreck. No one sees a thing, and Aria is thankful for the censor the bus has provided her with. She has seen enough messed up things for a lifetime during the last hour.

 ‘You’re staying with us, ‘cause you got nowhere else to go,’ Claire smiles sharply and fixes her hair. It’s very short, just like her. Everything about Claire is annoying. She’s the stereotype mean girl, just without the good looks. Because she isn’t really pretty. At least Aria doesn’t think so.

‘Shut up,’ Aria mumbles.

 ‘Bitch,’ Claire mutters.

 ‘There is nothing more to see, Matt. He’s just a psycho who rapes a woman. There isn’t more to it, now come on,’ Aria feels the burning cold biting on her hands and sighs. How did she end up with this pack of losers anyway? A boy who clearly doesn’t have a healthy mind and the bitch of the year is not a part of the survival starter pack. So why does she even bother? She would be fine on her own, and maybe she could go see if she found her sister and brother. Maybe they went to grandma or something.

‘No! Hear, she is screaming,’ Matt says and points wildly down at the bus.

‘I would also be screaming if some fat pig was raping me,’ Claire says.

Aria is a little startled by Claire’s sudden support. A glance at her hands explains everything. Each and every finger glows purple in the twilight. Aria doesn’t doubt that Claire would even support Hitler if that meant she would be allowed to go inside somewhere.

‘Here, take these,’ Aria says and hands over her purple, home knitted mittens. Her own fingers are barely red, and she’s going to die anyway. It doesn’t matter if she has a few frostbites. Nothing will make any difference for her future.

‘Thanks,’ Claire says, and for half a second something almost human flickers in her eyes. She probably isn’t that bad, Aria thinks. Maybe I should give her a shot. Then she laughs. The only shot Claire is worthy of is one fired with a gun.

The power should have been cut off by now, but streetlights are still lighting up every other street. Small snowflakes fly through the air, and the whole setting would normally have been very cozy. Normally meaning being inside with a cup of hot chocolate, instead of out in the storm looking at everyday tragedies. Just when Aria is about to look the other way again, something happens down there. Even though her full attention is at the woman crawling up in front of the bus, Matt still smacks her arm to make her look. It’s hard to capture details from the rooftop, but there is blood. A lot of blood.

‘Oh my God, we have to do something!’ Aria cries and crawls closer to the edge to see more. It’s like some horror movie scene. Matt is holding her hand to keep her from falling. The woman is coughing blood and vomit, lying on the ground with crazy cramps. Next to her the man is screaming, pleading for someone’s help, pleading for her not to leave him. He treats her like they have been lovers forever, when Aria has witnessed their first conversation roughly ten minutes ago. ‘Matt, you can’t just close your eyes to this… I’m going down.’ Aria stands up and runs towards the ladder.

‘Aria,’ Matt yells. Before she manages to think about it, she turns around and meets his eyes. They’ve gone dark, but she is not sure if it’s the bad lightning is to blame or his feelings. ‘She’s infected. There’s nothing we can do.’ There is insecurity in his voice, but there is also a sick echo of fascination. As he takes a deep breath he whispers ‘They’re both infected.’