Infected
Book 1
A novella
By: Doris Qualls
Infected
Doris Qualls
Copyright Doris Qualls 2014
It was another foggy day in central California. I finished up my anatomy class and was calling it a day. I hopped into my black Honda civic and drove through the impenetrable fog to the apartment I co-inhabited with my cousin Zoe. As I drove home I wondered if she had made the soup she promised me. Fighting off this cold wasn’t my idea of fun and she made the most amazing chicken noodle soup! I dreamed about it all the way home.
I quickly pulled into the parking lot of our lowly, yellow apartment complex. Her car was in the spot next to mine. Yes! I would have soup today! I entered the house and found her asleep on the couch with her tablet next to her and her headphones in her ears. Great, No soup I thought. She awoke as the door creaked.
“I left you some soup in the microwave Breanne.”
“You are amazing Zoe! Thank you so much!” I ecstatically replied. So she made it after all, I thought. Zoe was a napper and was always asleep on the couch, so it was nothing for her to say she would do something and sleep the afternoon away instead.
“Hey Bre,” Zoe interrupted my train of thought. “I was watching the news today and they said the fog would last another week minimum. I think that sucks.” Zoe stated.
I responded with a sigh and a simple, “Yeah it does.”
I drowned my evasive thoughts in the nasty Tule fog for a while as I ate my soup, wondering how many accidents we would see in the outskirts of town this week. The fog was so thick it was like driving with a white sheet on the windshield of your car and hoping you made it safely wherever you were going. You should forget the thought of trying to drive in the outskirts of town by the orange groves, there was no way you were making it out of there alive. Well, some people managed but it wasn’t a great idea to try it if you weren’t used to it. I’m still trying to figure out why people liked living in the country. The only benefit I can see is the fact that you get complete solace and were able to enjoy the sweet, inviting smell of the orange blossoms in the early spring.
I finished my soup and plopped on the couch next to Zoe. She was watching the news as usual. I think she had our T.V. programmed to be set on the news permanently. These days it was always full of tragedy and I never could figure out why she watched it.
I spaced out until I heard another announcement about the cure for the aids virus. Here we go again I thought. But this time it was different. The news caster stated that scientists were just days away from finding a cure to the deadly disease by mutating it.
“Yeah, that’s going to happen!” Zoe said sarcastically. I doubted it myself as we had heard that statement too many times to count. I walked away bored, sleepy and ready to take a nap.
I woke up the next day. My awakening thought was so fuzzy that I felt like I hadn’t slept at all. I slowly stumbled into the shower, washed up and then quickly ran off school. Geometry was my only class for the day. Upon entering my class I was warmly greeted by one of my good friends.
“Bre! How are you feeling today? I know you were horribly sick yesterday,” Maria stated.
Maria was 25, a beautiful Hispanic girl with the kind of hair that we all envied. She had the perfect figure and nice child bearing hips. Her silky brown hair and gorgeous, soft brown eyes made so many men turn their heads. Above all of that was her caring personality. I’ve never met another person who was that beautiful and also that kind. She was the total package. It was an honor to have her as my friend.
“I am feeling a bit better. Zoe made me some chicken soup and I slept the whole day away. That bug ain’t got nothin’ on me!” I replied.
“So do you think you will be up for going out this weekend?” Maria enquired.
“Probably. Catch me later this week.”
“Achem!!!” Barked Professor Gilly. Apparently he was trying to get our attention.
“If we are all done chatting, open up your textbooks to page 112.”
I barely made it through that class. My mind kept wandering. As soon as class was over I high tailed it out of there. When I returned home, I realized I had an empty apartment. Zoe was probably in one of her criminology classes. I was happy to have an empty house because I was the type that liked to be alone. Solitude suited me, I think because I am so introverted. Don’t get me wrong, there are times I liked to be alone, but there were times I needed company. This is one of the times I wanted to be alone. Feeling a bit nostalgic, I cracked open one of my photo albums. That is probably the only thing I have in my possession that is from my past.
My mother wasn’t very persistent at taking pictures, but she managed to get some important photos of my childhood. There on the first page was one of me right after I was born with my father holding me. After that was a photo of my first birthday, and next was my first day at school. Lastly there was a picture of her. Sometimes I just liked to look at it and remember our time together but that often resulted in anger on my part. Last time I seen her she looked the same, just aged a little. I am a carbon copy of her. Just looking in the mirror most of the time reminded me of her.
She was about my height. She was 5/8, thin, reddish brown hair, sparkling blue eyes. Many people said she was just plain beautiful. My father often told her she could have been a model if she wanted to. Thinking back, she must have been beautiful because she turned the head of nearly every male just about anywhere we went. She was beautiful in a classy way. She didn’t have to show skin to get men’s attention, and she certainly held the attention of my father all those years. They didn’t just have a physical attraction for one another, they had a special kind of love that I don’t think I will never comprehend. One says to understand that type of love is to experience it. Maybe that’s the problem for me.
As far back as I can recall, my parents never had any real issues. We attended church religiously every Sunday. We were the perfect family. I didn’t think life could get any better but yet, it seemed to almost every day. Well that is until 3 days before my 15th birthday.
I’ll never forget that day because it was the day my life was forever changed. I remember sitting in the family room with my mother on a Friday night waiting for dad to get back from the grocery store. He was picking up the popcorn mom sent him out for so that we could begin movie night. He was taking longer than usual and that was not like him. After sitting there for what felt like a lifetime, the phone rang. Mom picked up the phone, began looking pale and shocked then sat down. Next she said to me, “We need to get to the emergency room now. Your father has been in an accident.”
She was so sick with worry that she made me drive. By the time we got there and found his room we were met with a nurse. She stopped us before we could get inside. “Maam,” She said. “Would you please step with me into the conference room to meet with the doctor? He will be right with us”.
My mom lost it. She and I both knew why we were being intercepted. Something was seriously wrong. The nurse tried her best to console her but she knew it was not an option at this point. All she could do was conceal us in that conference room until the doctor arrived. All I could do was hold my mother. I was numb, terrified and fuming that the doctor kept us waiting.
The doctor, I still remember his name-David Jennings. He was a Porterville emergency room doctor. He was trusted for the most part, but only as much as Porterville hospital could be trusted, and that is not saying a lot. He approached the room and asked if he could speak wit
h my mom. She verified who she was and then those fateful words came out.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Jacobs. We did everything we could. He didn’t make it”.
The rest of the night was a blur. The doctor had to sedate my mother. I’m not sure if he did it because of her blood curdling screams, or because she had become violent about it. Thinking back, I think it was a mixture of both. We spent the night holding each other in the E.R., because the doctor didn’t want to release her until she was stable. 6pm the next evening we were finally headed home with a prescription for my mom for xanax and strict instructions for taking it.
My mother grew to be emotionless over time. My father’s death took a great toll on her. She stopped attending church. She pushed away anyone who loved her. She even screamed at those sweet ladies from the church that brought her meals in those first few weeks. She also became distant with me.
And that is around the time she sent me to live with my Aunt Brooke. Aunt Brooke was more than accommodating to me. She comforted me and loved me the way my mom neglected to in those days following the accident. It wasn’t the same as having a mother’s love but it was pretty darn close. But if I could ever say that I had a second mom, it would have been her. Aunt Brooke was fun to be around and she certainly kept me from being serious all of the time. Her free spirit rubbed off on me for sure. I can vividly remember her turning on the music channel and blasting Aerosmith’s Walk this way. She always made me dance with her. I felt goofy about it but it was sort of therapeutic. I guess she knew what I needed at the time more than I did. To this day I still blast music and dance awkwardly to it.
Mom would call every few weeks or so to check on me but eventually the calls ceased and we never heard from her again. Aunt Brooke and I tried to find her but to no avail. The neighbors said she was doing some pretty weird stuff before she disappeared. She probably ended up in some psych ward after that. Who knows. All I knew was I was 15 and alone in this world. Not only did I lose my father, but I also lost my mother that dreadful day.
Living with Aunt Brooke wasn’t bad. It was as nice as it could be for an orphaned 15 year old that had her whole life ripped away from her. I think my saving grace during that time was my cousin Zoe. Zoe was understanding but not pushy about discussing my feelings. She knew how to listen. She quickly became my best friend. If it hadn’t been for her, I would not have made it through the whole next year of my life.
Zoe is different from other people, but not in a bad way. She is kind of a tough girl and a year younger than me. Most people would look at her and call her a tomboy. She liked guns and could work on a car with the best of men! She never ceased to amaze me. She was tough yet she could let you cry on her shoulder and reassure you that it was gonna be alright.
We didn’t move off to college like we had planned. I don’t think either of us was ready for such a commitment yet. So we did the next best thing that anyone from a small town does. We got an apartment together and attended community college.
I am 23 now and we are still best friends. We fight like any other family sharing a tiny apartment. But I wouldn’t change my life right now for anything else. We lived in somewhat solitude together. She knows me so well that she knows when to talk and when not to. I’m just now beginning to move on with my life, but there are still days like today that I am a bit sad. She calls me moody, but she is wrong. I am only still processing my emotions. Thumbing through photo albums probably doesn’t help my emotions.
Zoe is not much different now from how she was when I moved in with her and Aunt Brooke, although she is a bit more tattooed than my taste. I begged her not to get tattoos where people could see them but she didn’t think it was a bad idea. I guess it all feeds into her tough girl image. It’s not just an image though; she is kind of a tough girl.
I decided it was time to stop reminiscing about the past, because it was kind of a downer. So I did some house work and then decided to rest off this cold. I turned on the TV. for some background noise and next thing I know I was waking up to the afternoon news.
“The country is on a state of emergency. The scientists that were working on mutating the aids virus in order to find a cure have made some huge mistakes. They have mutated the virus into something completely different and have accidentally infected some of the population with this new super virus. The effects are unknown at this time, but we do know the virus is quickly spreading. It has not been released as to exactly how the virus is spreading or what symptoms it is causing. Please stay tuned to our news broadcast for more information on the spot.” Proclaimed anchor Snow on our local channel 9 news.
“What the heck,” proclaimed Zoe from her chair in the corner of the room.
Startled I responded, “When did you come in?!”
“You were asleep dummy! Did you hear the news? What does this mean?”
“I wish I knew,” I replied.
“I guess we should keep an eye on the news and try to keep from going out unless we have to. It sounds kind of serious.”
We stayed in the rest of the evening anxiously waiting for more news flashes. The 11 O’clock news started with a repeat of the earlier broadcast and followed with the statement that they assumed the virus was airborne. They highly recommended taking precautions when leaving home.
The public was in a panic. Local clinics were offering free face masks as well as most churches. I think the majority of it was lack of understanding because the government wasn’t giving any details at this point. Classes were cancelled until further notice so that left Zoe and I to our apartment alone. We spent a few weeks holed up in the apartment but we had to leave at some point because we needed food.
Only the brave or desperate decided to venture out to get supplies. Something was eerie about the world now. Everything appeared lifeless. As we sprinted through the aisles of the grocery store, face masks adorned, we began to notice that the lifeless feeling wasn’t just a feeling. People were different. An elderly lady wearing a face mask looked like she had seen a ghost. Most people were rushing through the store but the seldom few weren’t.
Zoe and I tried to hurry to get what we needed, double teaming it. We approached the register, quickly tossed our groceries on the belt and were standing there when I noticed a man. He was tall, thin, and normal looking except in his eyes. Those eyes looked a bit off. They were lifeless.
He approached me from behind and attempted to grab my shoulders. Zoe quickly intercepted and shoved an elbow into the man’s face, knocking over the chip display. He made a loud grunt but tried to come at me again. Zoe played bodyguard really well. The cashier screamed and ran away once she noticed the blood streaming off of the guy’s head. I quickly grabbed my groceries, threw them back in the cart and ran outside. Something was wrong-very wrong.
Chapter 2
ZOE
It wasn’t like me to steal. I planned on going back with a list of the items so that I could pay for them later. Breanne and I were desperate. Something was seriously haywire with the world. Why was this some big secret? The government was obviously hiding the severity of the issue. We waited for a week before any update, and this is what the official press release finally said:
“The United States of America is in a state of emergency. The mutated AIDS virus has taken on another form. Scientists are calling this new disease Z. Ombie. The scientist that is responsible for releasing the virus, Dr. John Ombie is being held by the U.S. government and is working on a cure. The virus was discovered to escape during one of his test trials. Z. Ombie is being transmitted through bodily contact with infected humans. Research is showing that it is not transmitted through breathing on someone, or as say someone would catch the flu or a cold. Initial symptoms of the virus are extreme fatigue, hunger, fever, confusion, bleeding and loss of memory. Long term effects are not known at this time. If you or someone you know has symptoms common to these, please alert the CDC. Free clinics will be of
fered in every town for anyone presenting these symptoms. Scientists have developed a breathalyzer test to determine if someone is infected and will give instant results. Face masks will no longer be required although we are warned of any human contact at this point. Please take special precautions in not spreading the virus if you have come into contact with it. If you think you are infected, please stay away from other people and head directly to one of the nearby clinics. These clinics are the only certified treatment stations. I repeat, only go to Z. ombie, or “Z” for short, treatment centers. Please everyone, be safe! This is Matt Gurney, Channel 9 news.”
The screen showed the only clinic in town to be on West Putnam street and is open 24 hours a day. Breanne and I got in the car and drove down there out of curiosity. The line was half way down the next block. People were waiting at the entrance for their chance to breathe. Gosh, people are such hypochondriacs I thought.
“Do you think this many people are infected already Zoe?” Breanne asked.
“No, I think these people are idiots and paranoid if you want my opinion,” I stated. “There is no way it has spread this fast.”
“I wonder what they are doing with the people that are infected?” Breanne asked, almost looking sick. All of the hype was taking a toll on her. Breanne worried too much and something like this did not help.
“Well, let’s pull over and watch for a while and see if they take anyone in”.
So we waited. We watched for over an hour. Finally someone tested positive. A person in a biohazard suit exited the building and took the man inside.
“Why are they wearing biohazard suits?” Bre asked.
“Must be a precaution.”
“Let’s go home, I’m done watching this,” declared Breanne.
I don’t know what to make of all of this craziness. Just last week the world was fine and today people are lined up at a free government clinic and being quarantined. This is madness.