Chapter One
We all knew of the terrible pandemic that had struck Fairfield, Pennsylvania. We didn't think however, that it would spread as quickly as it had. Yet here I am, not even two days after the initial news reports, cornered in a bathroom stall on the third floor of the Student Activity Center at the University of Louisville, two infected students beating me senseless until I fall unconscious from the pain.
I wake up in a stupor. I'm not sure of where I am, or what happened. My vision is blurry, and I feel sick. The world around me is a hurricane, dark formless colors and blurs moving in an uncoordinated dance. I try to stand and immediately I throw up. Only half of it makes it into the toilet next to me. The rest decorates my shoes. I lean against the wall and my bangs fall in front of my face, sticking to the drips of vomit on my lips. I reflexively move them out of my face. Though my vision is still blurred and muddy, I pull myself to my feet. Twice I almost slip on the odorous goop on the floor I just heaved a moment ago, but I maintain my stance. The world is beginning to situate itself into forms, and the darkness is cleared up just a bit. My arm, outstretched and feeling my way around me, has become a gray blob that is slowly separating from the red walls around it. I wobble out of the stall, and a bright fluorescent light overhead greets me. I squint for a moment and put my hand in front of my eyes to shield me from its glare.
Then, I notice something. My hand doesn't look right. It's hard to tell, but the color definitely looks off. At that moment my focus finally comes back to how it should be, and I see the shocking truth: my skin is nearly devoid of color. I let out a small shriek, and fall back to the wall. I pull back the sleeve of my torn jacket to reveal that my arm is the same gray, almost chalk-white color.
"What… what is this!?" I shout. A thought from my subconscious answers. This is the infection, remember? It spread here! The bathroom mirrors are all broken, but one is merely cracked. I run to it and gasp upon seeing my face. I still resemble myself, but my skin has become the same gray infected hue. The most terrible change however is in my eyes. I don't even know if they exist any longer; all I can see is a small, but bright, glowing light in each of my sockets that gives me the appearance of some sort of demonic creature.
"I'm infected?" I stutter. "I'm fucking infected!?" I can't tear my gaze away from my reflection in the cracked mirror, like it's a train wreck, horrible yet fascinating. "How can I be infected?" I ask the grotesque image. "I… I remember being attacked, and then running… but, if I'm infected…" I'm hesitant to finish the sentence, for the fear it'll bring with it, "… then… why can I still think? Doesn't the disease make people go mad?" Terror fills my thoughts. Perhaps the infection hasn't reached that point yet. "No no no no!" I exclaim., finally tearing myself from the mirror and proceeding to pace back and forth in thought. "Those people who attacked me, who… who infected me," the word 'infected' was hard for me to say out loud, "they changed in both body and mind in no time, didn't they? Right? It must be! How long was I unconscious for anyway?" I continue talking to myself to keep my spirits up. I don't look back in the mirror, or at least try not to. In little time I realize I can't stay in this bathroom forever. I have to leave. I assume if I'm infected, the others shouldn't attack me. After all, the two that cornered me left apparently.
I peek my head out of the door with extreme caution. I can't see much of the activity center, but I don't see anyone. I open the door just a crack more. Morning sunlight pours in and I squint for a moment. It was around noon when I was attacked, I remember. "Just how long was I out for?" I repeat. "A day? Two days?" I curse myself for not bringing my watch to class that day. I open the door entirely and step out, making sure it makes no noise as it closes. The air is deathly quiet, an eerie contrast to the usual noise and clamor that always filled the activity center. I awkwardly make my way towards the middle of the hallway like an actor in an embarrassing costume about to face the audience. Then, I spot them. A group of infected people are gathered further down the hallway, not far from the escalators. They are all standing emotionless, as if in a trance, like mannequins on display. I can't tell if they are students or faculty, they all look the same: gray, twisted forms of their old selves, with glowing eyes and ripped clothing, just like me. Unlike me however, a couple of them have dried splatters of blood on their clothes, and also unlike me, none of them seem to be thinking much.
I freeze. Have they seen me? Two of them are turned to face me, so they must have. They aren't acting on my arrival though. Or, at least I don't think they are. I count seven altogether, all of them just dawdling about, holding their heads, scratching themselves or doing other strange motions. One is leaning up against the window overlooking the nearby railroad tracks and staring blankly out at a flickering lamppost. The power is still working for whatever reason, I realize. I wonder how long that will last.
I glance behind me. There's nothing but a stone wall and a couple of offices. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. I can't help but want to get closer – to observe the group of infected. Even though every bit of rational thought in me is telling me to turn around and explore the offices to see if I can get out of the building that way, I keep walking forward, toward the infected. As I reach just a few yards from them, one of them, with his backpack still on, groans. I immediately stop and come to my senses. I can't move though; I'm petrified by fear. The backpacked infected caught the attention of the others, and they all take a moment to turn towards me.
Oh god oh god oh god what do I do? They aren't attacking me. Are they going to? Can they tell I still have my senses? No no, I'm already infected, just like you all. Yeeees, that's it. No need to bother with me… right?
That must have been the correct assumption, as they all simultaneously lost interest in me and returned to doing nothing. I felt my muscles relax, and my breathing return to normal as a wave of relief washed over me. My heart was no longer thumping in my chest either. Yes, I think, I still have a beating heart. This disease will not claim me.