Prologue
8:25 AM, EST
Seven months, two weeks, three days, thirteen hours, one minute and two seconds after First Infection
"It's been some time since this virus first showed up. Now, it's our turn to come back from Hell. Fort Alpha was once an old military compound for the United States Army. When the Green Flu hit, it was quickly used for evacuation, thanks to its helipads, massive weapons supply, and fortified barriers. Afterwards, remaining survivors took over and made it into a makeshift safe zone. Today, Fort Alpha is one of the head defenses in these times against the Green Flu virus. We've survived attacks with 50 Tanks each, completely cured several Infected, and we are going to stop at nothing to end this disease for everyone affected, and ensure our losses were not in vain."
- Commander Alexander William Overbeck, Fort Alpha
-Kate-
It has been exactly seven months, one week, three days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds since we escaped from the bridge. I remember everything that happened, down to the very fine details. The window of the Black Hawk had a sticker with "DO NOT OPEN" on it, and three small Witch scratches on the outside. It took Jason fifty-three seconds to get Nick to the chopper after he threw a pipebomb in the center of the bridge. Exactly five seconds after the chopper took off, jets bombed the bridge until it was consumed by the water below. My... 'disorder' had left me sick twice, once at the sugar mill, once immediately after our chopper landed at a military base. That was seven months, five days, sixteen hours, four minutes and thirty-two seconds ago. They had swarmed us, testing the Survivors to see if they were clean. Ellis, Louis, and Zoey were discovered as Carriers, and were taken somewhere for treatment. The rest were immune.
They tested Jason, Elizabeth and me next. Jason was infected, of course, but could not spread it. Elizabeth's body was almost clear of the virus.
The other Survivors (Nick, Coach, and Rochelle, that is; Francis had left immediately after getting the OK to) asked why I had to be tested twice. The doctors said nothing, running a small blood test on me like everyone else. Then they did it again.
And again.
I could see their confusion. The test didn't read infected. In fact, it said nothing at all. They tested Nick one more time to make sure the device was working (Which it was), then tested me once more with their last pricker. It gave no results.
I had to be literally dragged away, the others trying to fight the soldiers that accompanied the doctors. It wasn't until Coach broke it up that they let me go with the doctors. That was a whole fourteen minutes three seconds after we landed. Nick walked with them the whole way, making sure nothing happened. I remembered how little he trusted the military. He watched them, watched me, said nothing. They put me through several scanners, machines, tests. None of them responded. They ran Nick through the same ones. An old leg wound and a mildly high blood pressure, but otherwise fine. They tried me again. The CT scans showed up blank, as if there was nobody there, or didn't even work at all. Blood scans ran endlessly, but gave no results. They put my blood under a microscope but couldn't find anything wrong, but they found very little right. It was too bright. Everything hurt. I wouldn't speak. What would I say? I couldn't explain what was happening. I knew less than them.
They kept trying for two hours five minutes. Then another hour, three minutes and two seconds. And another three hours, six minutes and seventeen seconds. I was then restrained and kept in a research lab for five months, two weeks, four days and twelve hours.
My file was recorded on computer 7134T-3212 . The clearance code to view the folder is 535. In it is 275 files holding all tests and scans on me. They all are blank or "unknown". The room containing the computer is locked with a keypad combination of 16, 4, 32, 14, and 3. In front of that door is a hallway that is exactly two yards long. At the end is a normal elevator. Everyone uses it and the other five to go around the base's main building, which is thirteen stories high. I'm not in any of them. To get to my room, one would have to find a hidden compartment and type 23617 into the keypad that is inside, in which the elevator would travel to the computer's floor. If they were to type 52412, they would end up on my floor.
I noticed these numbers... My coma gave me time to think. Time to make sense of things as they fell apart in my mind. When I connected the numbers, I knew exactly when and where I'd be when I would awake from the coma.
It's funny how things work.
Right?
I haven't been awake for these past five months. I haven't seen Jason for these past seven months. I haven't felt right for these past seven months, either. I want to know why. Why I can't speak. Why I can't wake up. Why. Why? Why?
I've been wanting to ask why. I've wanted answers.
But now? At this second, exactly seven months, one week, three days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds after my last sane thoughts? After my confidence assuring that we'll be fine, shattered to oblivion? And now, after being in a coma for so long?
I just want them all to die.