Eli walked from the airport to the bus specifically organised for passengers going south. His flight arrived in Dublin hours ago but he still had to undergo the usual health checks. He presented his papers but blood was taken anyway.
He hadn't been back to Ireland in years. He had been living in America on a Green Card initiative working in a pre-school. It was only for a year but he decided to stay longer. Next thing he knew, 5 years had passed. He was settled and beginning his new life in America. Then life seemed to just end. Quite too literally.
He finished with the tests and walked on from the arrivals gates where special rooms were set up for testing. He noticed the heavy influence of Gardaí, the Irish Police. They were armed. He allowed himself a light snigger. He was only used to the Gardaí being the unarmed force that they once were, that were sometimes deemed an unprofessional lot. Of course, much has changed. There's a bigger threat than your drunken brawls at 2am outside the disco. He began to think of feeling the Irish weather again outside, about the fields that spread out beyond vision. But this welcoming thought was quickly interrupted.
Behind him was a scream, it seemed to come from a room two doors down from where he had been tested. The door was flung open and from it emerged a man in a panic. He ran for the exits but was intercepted by armed Gardaí. "Sir! Please get down on your knees!" The man was frantic. Obviously his test came back 'unclean'. But he didn't seem to be feverish like usual people on their way to becoming a Walker. A carrier, maybe? "No, no, no, no!" he cried, almost inaudible from his sobbing. "Please! Please, please.." His voice croaked as it drifted into gasps, begging not only for air. This man knew what was to happen. So far there was still no cure. How can you cure something when you don't know what it is? Whether he complied with their orders, or he made a run for it; his fate would be the same. Luckily, the man collapsed into a heap, sobbing and groaning. Eli looked to the crowds but no one seemed to be stepping forward, no family, no friends. The man was alone, in life and his now inevitable death. Eli walked on to the exit. Except his mind was no longer drifting to the rolling green hills around his town, instead he mourned for the man behind him. He hoped that, whenever his own time comes, he won't be so alone.
He sat in the familiarly uncomfortable seat of the bus, knees crammed against the back of the seat in front of him. He forgot how small the old busses were. It was going to be another 4 or 5 hours before he reached home, so he decided to take out his laptop and write. At least he got to charge that in the airport. He missed technology.
JOURNAL ENTRY 1
My first entry being back in Ireland. I never really thought about coming back here. I've got no problem with life here, I just preferred my success in America compared to the success here. Or rather, the lack of it. I realise it's been a long, long time since I've written anything in here. Looking back on my last entry, my old life seems so foreign to me. Jesus, all that's happened.. Where do I begin? Well you always see those movies about epidemics, and we see our hero in the midst of the chaos. We never really saw how people coped with the outbreak, or how the destruction flowed? Let me tell you; it's worse than when the anarchy is all settled. At least then we know, to an extent, what we're fighting to survive. But at the beginning are thousands of scared, confused people. People in disarray with the madness sweeping the country.
I was in my friend's house when the turmoil found its way to us. We were told we may need to get to the city if the worst arose, and seeing as Rachael lived nearer than I did, we stayed in hers. This proved to be a bad idea. Many cases of a fever were being reported in the city, and of course where do people go when sick? The hospital. The hospital that Rachael worked in. She was a nurse and a very good nurse at that. Excellent bedside manner, compassionate, skilful and strong minded. She clicked with patients instantly and won them over with her friendly mannerisms. One man, an elderly man, had become close to Rach. He was alone his entire life, except for the dogs he kept as he went along. And now he was really worried he had caught this fever roaming around. A real sob story right? Unfortunately, he had contracted it. He looked like he was getting over the worst of it and it seemed he was to be released shortly enough. So Rach, as lovely as he always was, gave him her card to call her if he ever needed anyone. So, there we were sitting in the living room by the phone. She was sent home after being given the all clear due to the mass spread of the fever and the hospital was quarantined.
The phone rang and she almost dropped it in the hurry of answering. I could hear her friend Debbie on the other end. She was shouting. I could hear other noises too. Rach began shouting so that Debbie could hear her. Rach then switched the hone to loudspeaker. "They're killing them!" she was shouting. She was sobbing so much that her words were barely recognisable. "The Fever patients, Rach! They're all dying! And then... I don't know, they're waking up or something!" All I remember thinking was the word 'what' over and over. Did I mishear? "They stumble around and attack people! It's some fucked up psychological effect! One of them.." she sucked in a sharp gasp of air between sobs. "It actually.. bit through another patient" Jesus, I thought. But then she doled out more horror. "That's not all.. a patient who was on life support was let go by his family. He then came back with the same effects as the fever patients after they died. He didn't have the fucking fever, Rachael!" Rach looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears. I was breathless at the news. People were coming back from death. What the fuck was happening?
Rach asked her where she was. Debbie had managed to get outside now. She was about to be escorted with the other doctors to a vehicle taking them somewhere safe. "Rach I've to go!" she was shouting. I could hear the shouting commands of soldiers. "Debbie, where are you going? Well meet you there!" Rach was screaming. Then the loud sound of gunfire rattled from the speaker. "Oh God!" Debbie shouted. "They're out here! Patients, soldiers, doctors, civilians! They're coming in fucking droved and they're killing anything they come near!" The gunfire went on, more shots were being fired and more voiced were frantically screaming. "Rach, we're being rushed into the escort! Rach listen!" but that's the last we heard. The phone had been knocked from Debbie's hands has the mob of scared people pushed for a place in the armoured cars. "Debbie! Debbie!" Rach called out. I told her it's okay, that I'm sure Debbie was alright. We stood there in silence for about twenty minutes. I held her as she cried in light of what was happening. I was still trying to come to terms and plan our safety at the same time when the door was knocked frantically. We both jumped. We seemed to come to the same conclusion that it might be the military going house to house checking on those inside. I ran to the door, but grabbed the fire poker to be safe. I opened the door expecting to see a man in his Battle Dress Uniform with provisions but instead I saw a man. An old man, scared, and cold with nothing but a coat far too big for him, covering a hospital gown. A hospital gown. Shit, I thought. Backed up to block Rach but he smiled when he noticed her presence. "Nurse Rachael" the man said with a trembling voice, smiling as best as he could. He weakly made his way inside and stumbled. I helped him over to the armchair by the lighting fire. "Mr. Schultz!" she hurried over and began checking him. She asked how he found her and he showed her card in his hand. It was crumpled and worn from being clutched too hard. But there, on the back now barely visible, was Rachael's address. That card was only given out in special cases.
Rach was still checking him over and stopped suddenly. He was bleeding from his back. The man told us he was scared at the hospital. He left when the hospital had erupted into a panic. He was weak and frail but he made it out of the grounds. One of the Turned who had strayed away had seen him. It caught up to him and latched on, leaving a gash in Mr. Schultz's back. A soldier in the distance shot the Turned off of him but in his moment of distraction was overwhelmed and killed. Mr. Schultz went on, found a coat on the ground, and slowly but surely made his way here. We were on the city outskirts and the hospital wasn't in the dead centre. Rach told me quietly that nothing can be done for his cut, that it was infected and he'd lost too much blood. I think Mr. Schultz knew this too. We made him comfortable, patched his cut, and sat in the heat of the fire. The man told us about the life he lived alone, all for the exception of his dogs. He told us of them all and we listened with amazement at his compassion. He was so proud of his animals. After a silence he said "Those dogs were the greatest companions I ever had. I don't feel I missed out on having a family. To me, those dogs were my brothers, and my sisters. My closest friends. I hope they're well.." and with that, Mr Schultz passed in the warmth of the sitting room with his two new friends and the memory of his oldest and closest friends both here and gone. I was glad he had such a peaceful death.
I guess the emotions of the moment had made us forget what Debbie had told us, because we were still sitting on the floor by him as the fire dwindled, keeping his memory alive in silence. When, in that silence, Mr. Schultz also came to 'life'. We didn't notice until his hand grabbed Rach by the hair. It's strange. He was so fast in comparison to his former self. He lunged forward pinning Rach to the floor, as air wheezed him his lungs in a weak screech. I ran for the poker by the door and held it around his chest using it to pull him up. In one hand he pulled a fistful if Rach's black hair, and in the other he tore at her skin. His teeth had also found their mark, leaving a small but trickling flow of blood. He collapsed back to the carpet and scrambled to his feet coming at me. I swung the poker and it collided with his skull, sending him reeling to the fireplace. I ran to Rach who was now sobbing, holding her hand to her wound. She was losing blood way too fast now. I put my hand on hers to put pressure on the cut. I couldn't do much else. I didn't know the kind of first aid to deal with this. I don't think anything could be done. "Eli" she said, her voice croaking. "You need to go." We knew what was going to happen. We had heard enough - and just witnessed enough - to know. I began to speak but the sound of something catching fire drew my attention. The Turned Mr. Schultz had lay in the fire long enough to get caught in it. His entire body was now covered in flames and he was struggling to get up. He staggered to the couch which also went up in flames. I stood and swung the poker again, but he reeled back to more furniture and there he remained. I ran back to Rach but she was gone. She had lost too much blood and passed away. I remember my eyes welling up. The smoke and the trauma both taking their toll. I didn't know what to do next. Rach was gone, and I had no idea where to go. The fire began to spread and it became too hot to stay. I kissed Rach on the forehead and ran out before I was taken. I made it to the street and turned to see the house become engulfed by fire.
Eli closed his computer as tears dropped on his keyboard. He couldn't write any further about that day, not yet. Although years had passed, it was all a painfully fresh memory. He rested his head on the window and looked to the fields. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, to go to a place where he could remember Rach and others he missed without pain.