They said it started somewhere near the west coast. They said toxic waste from a landfill site over in Japan had infected the Pacific, and caused mild mutations in sea life. They said it was nothing to worry about, just don't eat any fish from that area, and stay away from beaches while they did some kind of clean up. People forgot about it for a few months. They didn't care that the ocean had been monumentally thrown out of whack for god knows how many years just that it didn't directly affect them.
Sometime in August they said it was safe to go in the water and eat the fish again. But some were sceptical. Good for them I say. There were protests about it and everything. It got in the news. Yet the majority of our beautiful country remained ignorant and flocked to Cali in their masses for summer. That was where the first case happened.
I actually remember it really well. I was in my boxers. It was a Thursday morning; the heat was insane, as always. I was sat on the couch flipping through the TV channels; it was too damn hot for anything else. There was something on the news about a young girl being critically ill after swallowing sea water. It wasn't weird enough for me to stay and watch more, but it kept in the back of my mind. It was strange, like "Hey dude you might wanna remember this" I didn't think much of it that morning.
A bit later on in the day was when the second piece of news caught my eye. I was dicking around on my laptop, still sat on the couch. One of the ads on a site I frequented was from CNN, and it said something about the coastline in California being covered in some kind of freaky radiation, which is why the girl was so ill. Intrigued beyond the point of casual browsing, I clicked through. The beach where it happened had been cordoned off, and there was a photo of some guys in radiation suits, pushing people away from the scene.
Apparently, the girl had collapsed right there on the beach and started fitting, foaming at the mouth and went into hysterics. She'd been taken to hospital where she'd fallen into a coma. It said that there were three other cases in two different beaches; the same thing had happened to them. I made myself a mental note not to let myself be pestered into going to any beach parties until this whole thing had died down. Not that any of my friends lived anywhere near a beach to be honest.
The next morning there was a huge report about it on the morning news. Fifty confirmed cases up the entire west coast. They'd even given it a name: C-13-Hysteria. They said not to panic, as they said it could only be transmitted through the sea water, or through things that had been in the infected water. Just stay away from the coast, don't eat the fish, yada yada. The same story from a few months ago. They then cut to the sports.
Something in me wanted to know more. I was sucked deep into this thing that I didn't quite understand fully. Next thing, I was sat in my bedroom, doing research. This thing came from Japan, right? According to Wikipedia, the waste had mutated bugs, throwing up some pretty sick pictures of butterflies with tiny wings and huge bodies. It was a real short article besides that, just some citation links and sources. Yet I still wanted to know more. I clicked on one of the links, and it took me to a Japanese site. It looked basic as hell, red text on black background, no proper layout, just text stacked on top of each other.
I ran the whole thing through Google Translate, but it just came out as nothing but those boxes you get when the encoding doesn't work, which was weird. I kept scrolling through the page, half tempted to call my brother in to get him to translate. I hit the bottom of it, and there was a link. Desperate, I clicked on it, not caring about Trojans or whatever else lurked within. It took me to some kind of video site- it definitely wasn't YouTube, there weren't any other links to videos, just a white background. There wasn't a logo, just those stupid boxes. The site address was boxes as well.
The video took a hella long time to load. I was waiting for about five minutes until it started. It was a poor quality recording of some official looking guys in white coats. They were joking and laughing, when some woman walked in, dressed in one of those hospital gowns. They paused, and continued laughing, turning to face her. If this was one of those weird Japanese game shows, then I was already hooked. I only liked those things ironically, of course. The girl totally freaked, and started to wave her arms about madly. The doctors continued to laugh more, until she let out some kind of cry, and fell to the floor.
The camera moves forward and circles the girl. The doctors are holding her wrists and shaking their heads. The camera zooms in on her face but they push it away casually. Yet the guy operating the camera doesn't like this, and he shoves one of them out of the way, pushing the camera right into the face of the dead girl. One of the doctors yells at him and assumedly shoves the camera person away. The footage goes shaky and we see the floor. I was sat with my mouth slightly open, growing confused and slightly uneasy watching this. The camera man sounds like he's sniffing, and there are the sounds of a trolley being wheeled in. The camera whips around to see the doctors pulling the sheet over the girl's head, now on the trolley.
Looking at the room, it didn't really seem like a place of medicine. More like a bunker. There were small trays filled to the brim with liquids, and wires hung down from the ceiling. They begin to wheel the girl out of the room and the camera man jogs up to them, and we hear him speak. He sounded utterly bereft. He shouts things I don't understand, pointing at the doctors. His voice starts to tremble when they sneer something back at him. They move out of sight and the camera guy slumps down. He carries on speaking, not to them, but to the camera. He starts weeping halfway through some kind of monologue, choking out what I think was a name. He doesn't pause to regain his composure, just kind of sits there and speaks through his sobs.
I was convinced this was some great acting. I could take a few tips from this guy, I thought. He carried on for another minute, while I was thinking about other things, like how I could write my own film, maybe, based on my own shitty little personal project. I would totally track this guy down and hire him. Suddenly there is a shrill scream from far away, and I almost jumped through the goddamn roof. I remember that it's a recording, and settle back down into my chair.
The guy has stopped speaking, and the camera is shaking. It looks like he's backing up, away from the doorway where they wheeled her out. It sounds like he was rooting around in his pockets for something. More screams, and the camera shakes even more, like the guy is really panicking. Then there's silence.
I'm silent for a little bit. I'm sat inches away from the screen, shades pulled down my nose to get a better view. There's footsteps. They're real slow and pained, and they were coming from a way away from the camera, but they were getting closer. The camera shakes more, and points towards the floor so we see the guy's feet backing away across this concrete floor. The footsteps stop. And then there's the most god awful sound I had ever heard. It was like some kind of guttural moaning. Throaty but not in the good way and it sent a genuine shiver of fear through me.
The guy starts whispering something. It was frantic and it sounded pleading and desperate. He swings the camera up to reveal the same girl that had dropped dead not four minutes earlier. Her black hair is messed up and there's blood on her mouth. There was a trail of blood behind her, smeared on her feet, leading from the doorway where she came from. I heard a click. The girl sways on her feet, eyes narrowing. Her eyes were totally white, like a ghost. The guy's voice raises and it sounds like the most hysterical thing ever. She makes that terrible moaning noise again and shuffles towards him. The guy raises a gun into camera shot, pointing directly towards her. My hands were digging right into the edge of my desk now. He's yelling at her now, but she doesn't stop creeping towards him. She starts making this gravelly growling sound, like some kind of wild animal. The guy lets out a sob, then screams what I think was some kind of apology. He pulls the trigger and the bullet flies through her skull.
I'm sat there, speechless. Watching without much emotion as the camera falls and cracks on the ground, leaving a thin splinter. It kind of fucks up the quality but I'm still able to make out the cameraman finally coming into view, wearing some kind of green uniform. The gun was still smoking, placed carefully on the ground next to him. He's holding the girl in his arms, sobbing and wailing. Suddenly there's a shout, and this army platoon floods in, led by a man in a sleek black uniform with many medals. They take the girl from the guy's arms, covering her with the sheet she was wrapped in the first time. The guy mumbles something and they reply something in what was meant to be a soothing tone. He just weeps even louder than before. A pair of boots walks up to the camera, and then the video stops. No ending text. No explanation. No list of credits for the actors or make up crew or anyone. It just stops.
I clicked out of the tab, and sat there just staring at the website I visited previously. There was something in me that seemed to suggest that what I just watched was not a film. It wasn't some extreme Hollywood trailer for an up and coming high-budget movie. It wasn't some expertly put together indie-film on a fifty dollar budget. I knew what kind of shitty, prissy ironic dude would make something like that. It looked real. Completely real. Like there was some actual man who went through this. That girl was really dead. He killed her. He didn't want to kill her but he had to.
The door clicked open and I jumped right out of my skin. I heard my brother's footsteps click up the hall downstairs, swinging his keys. He yelled at me that there was a pizza downstairs for me and that if I didn't hurry the fuck up he'd eat it himself. I stood up, pushed my shades back up and sauntered downstairs, hands in my pockets. I guess I needed the friendly flavour of the cheap pizza my bro picked up every Friday because I ate six slices and fell asleep on the sofa watching Top Model.
The Saturday morning news doesn't come this early, was my first thought when I woke up. The familiar tune was blaring out like the goddamn trumpets of heaven. I checked the clock. 4: 47 am. Someone important must have had a fucking baby or else, was my second thought when I woke up.
I was looking around, groggy, shades on my head, ends digging into my ears, when I noticed that the door was completely locked and bolted, with a chair and a few cinderblocks pilled in front of it. Jesus Christ, what was Bro doing?
"Bro! This shit isn't funny man! I'd leave but it looks like someone has blocked the door!" I yell, furious.
No answer. I grit my teeth and shout even louder.
"What, was it the fucking puppet?" Still no answer. Lil Cal, my brother's weird puppet thing was sat in the corner. Its eyes were staring at me. I swore they followed me across the room as I went to get some chips from the kitchen. When I came back in, still cursing my brother and his jokes under my breath, the news had properly started up. I sit back on the sofa, tired and grumpy.
There was a photo on the screen of a pretty cute looking girl. She had dark slicked back hair and one of those headband things adorned with fake jewels tied around her forehead. The woman reporting the news was describing the girl, her age, her name, all that. Her last name sounded nice, like a star sign. Turns out she was the girl who got the infection first, and she was dead. C-13-Hysteria had killed her. I was sat there, not knowing if I should feel sad for her or her family or not. I was about to space out and ignore the rest of the news when something the newswoman said made me snap back. She said that all other confirmed fifty cases were being traced and rounded up for immediate disposal, and that the public should take precaution, especially in the whole state of California.
Disposal. That meant that they were going to kill them or burn their bodies or whatever they did to corpses. I turn the volume up even louder and lean in, abandoning my bag of chips.
"-It is believed that after her heart terminated Patient Zero re-awoke, and attacked her aunt and sister, who were visiting her body in the morgue, where she had been delivered not five minutes earlier. Her sister unfortunately..." The newswoman pauses, swallowing, like the next bit wasn't pleasant.
"...Went through the same, and was shot on-site by police. The aunt is confirmed to have no bites or-"They shot the sister? My mind raced back to that video. The thought of the growling, shuffling girl and the pained screams of the boy who shot her. Oh God, that video was real, this was no co-incidence. The same shit that went down in Japan was now happening right over here. I turn back to the news, anxious to know more.
"Police and the Army have issued a red alert for the whole California area. The state is in lockdown, and all flights have been cancelled to and from California Airport. The west coast is warned to stay on their guard, although panic is not advised. The chief of police in California has reassured the public that the outbreak is under control, and warns people to stay in their homes, barricade doors and windows, and make sure that all water drunk is not salted water. Anyone wishing for more information should call the hotline at the bottom of the screen." The news goes quiet, showing different phone numbers and a map of the country, the west coast highlighted in the most vibrant, garish orange I'd ever seen. Cali was right at the bottom, blaring bright red.
I ran upstairs, still not quite sure what was going on. I crashed into my room, pulled on some shoes, and just kind of stood there in the centre of the carpet. My mind was racing at a hundred miles per hour. The disease was killing people, and bringing them back to life. There were at least fifty of them at first, but fucking Jesus knew how many more they could've attacked. Shit was so bad over there that they put the whole state in lockdown. The woman on the news mentioned something about the aunt having no bite marks, so this thing was turning people into savages, making them bite people?
This sounded like one of the shitty movies that my friend blathered on about every waking moment I was with him, except that those were always safe; you could watch them and think about what a piece of crap it was but this was real and now all you could think about was if these things got near you. God forbid they get near Texas. God forbid they even get fucking anywhere.
The familiar chat sound bleeps on my computer. I forgot I left it on last night. The website is still open but I don't close it. I felt I'd need it. My chat client is bleeping excessively. Great time to share some witty banter while all hell breaks loose, whoever you are, I growled to the screen, opening Pesterchum.
tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]
TT: Dave.
TT: Dave are you there?
TT: I know you're there Dave.
TT: Dave!
TG: jesus christ yes i am here
TG: don't you think that there are more important things going on right now like oh i don't know
TG: the goddamn zombie apocalypse
TT: I presume you have watched the news for once in your life then?
TG: alright yes fine you got me.
TT: It's not a "goddamn zombie apocalypse" as you so eloquently put it. It is a mild outbreak of an infectious disease that is being controlled as we speak.
TG: but you still checked up on me?
TG: ha-ha classic rosie
TT: Do not call me that and it says on the news that Texas is in very little danger from the outbreak anyway.
TG: wow i am wounded.
TG: you don't care about your own brother in a nation-wide crisis i'll just let the bitey bitches get me then
TG: jump head first into a crowd of them
TG: here lies zombie dave because rose didn't pay attention to him
TT: Oh shut up.
TT: Bitey? What the hell do you mean?
TG: yeah the patient zero or whatever got it from the infected water or whatever but get this she bit some people and they got it but one got killed so i'm guessing the other poor dicks who got infected the water way are now out in the streets of LA chomping on whoever walks past
TG: like in that movie john showed us
TT: So the disease can be transferred though bodily fluids, is what you're saying?
TG: yeah basically
TG: hey do you reckon the power could go because i'd rather rub myself with ham and walk into Cali naked if that happens
TT: Thank you for the stunning metaphor, Dave.
TT: And I'm not sure. They said they'd get it under control but we have a back-up generator here anyway.
TG: yeah sure i'll just walk north-east until i get to NY to charge my phone thanks rose
TT: My pleasure. I must go now. Stay inside, lock your doors, do what the authorities say.
TG: ha so you DO care about me!
TT: Talk to you later, Dave.
tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]
I lean back from my computer, closing my eyes and sighing. Thank God for Rose. In a strange way her sarcasm stopped me from completely freaking. It was familiar and oddly comforting. This meant I was one messed up person. I checked the time-five thirty. I go back downstairs and sit back down on the sofa. The TV's still on but they're now running normal shows. I delve back into my bag of chips and my shoulders soften a little; they were tense ever since I woke up. Maybe Rose was right, and the police and the army guys were sorting this hot mess out. I let my head fall onto my shoulder, drifting into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.
I'm awoken by my phone buzzing. It's nine fifty-Christ, I slept for what, almost five hours. I unlock my phone and it's a Pesterchum message from TT. I sigh and chuck my phone onto the throw cushions. Rose's nagging could wait because I ate all of my chips. I wondered if Bro had bought any of those special offer Doritos as I wandered to the kitchen. The buzzing noise from my phone didn't stop. It just kept on, and on. Finally I ran back, and opened Pesterchum on my phone, annoyed. Except it wasn't Rose messaging me.
timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]
TT: Are you alright
TT: Are you safe
TG: who is this?
TT: You're still in the house right
TG: hey man don't come near me
TG: i got weapons here and i'm not afraid to use them
TT: Of course I know that jackass I fucking live with you.
TG: wait
TG: bro?
TT: Congratulations, you've solved the mystery. Now answer my first questions.
TG: yes yes and yes
TG: by the way how did you find me on this?
TT: It's not relevant.
TG: besides bro how could i leave the house when you've pulled the cinderblock stunt on the door?
TG: how did you leave?
TT: Through the roof, numbnuts.
TT: You got your sword, right?
TG: in my room but anyway i could go get one of yours anyway
TG: why
TT: Listen lil' man because Walmart is the only place I got internet and it's shaky as fuck
TT: Shit has hit the fan down in Cali. People are trying to leave but they're not being allowed in case they got the virus on them. It's blocked as far as the eye can see. Those things have quadrupled and LA is completely overrun with them. There's also been a bunch of outbreaks in Arizona and New Mexico which are right next to Texas, as luck would fucking have it.
TG: wow.
TG: they won't get to texas though. the army will handle them
TT: I severely doubt that, dude. Half of the south-west coast is infected, which means a lot of police and soldiers.
TG: don't say that do you want us to die
TT: No you dumb shit I'm being realistic.
TT: Look, just stay indoors, keep your sword on you, I'll be back soon.
TG: how are you gonna stay safe then
TT: Dave.
TT: You seriously underestimate me.
TT: Later.
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]
Shit had indeed hit the fan. I had been relaxed, I had let my guard down, and then it happened. And Bro was right there where a whole horde of the bastards could come crashing in at any moment. And I was stuck here useless. I checked Pesterchum-nobody was online, not Rose, not John or Jade, nobody from school. I was alone in this apartment where cannibalistic monsters could swoop in and gnaw my brains out.
Sitting there on the sofa with my hands on my knees, back completely straight didn't really help me. I needed a plan; I needed to keep a level head. It had been ten minutes since I'd talked to my brother last-still nothing. I needed to do what he would do in a situation like this.
My sword was clasped in my slightly sweaty hand. It was probably the only one in the entire house besides Bro's that could actually hold its own in a proper fight. John once told me that if zombies invaded, he would come straight to my house because katanas can slice the head of a ghoul clean off, which was the only way to kill them. I wondered if any of his stupid movie trivia was true with these things. Wait, John lived in Washington. He lived on the west coast, a.k.a zombie fucking central. I swore loudly, running to the TV and checking the news. No reported cases in the north-west. They were calling this "volatile times" and the President had held a press conference urging calm. Shit, I thought. This was actually happening.
I checked all the windows, locking and bolting them. I thought about getting some nails and hammering some wood to them, but after a thorough search, there weren't any, so I made sure that the door was secure, putting a few more chairs and a small coffee table John's aunt sent us for Christmas in front of it. I remembered the crawl spaces and the hatch leading out to the roof, because Bro was most likely planning a grand entrance through them. And the door was blocked but I knew he didn't care about the latter.
I hadn't been outside in about a day, so I opened the hatch and climbed out onto the roof, into the hot air of Houston. We were right on the top of our apartment complex, making the times where we'd fight with our swords on the roof unbelievably uncomfortable with the sun beating down on our backs. There were still scuff marks on the ground from the tussle we had about three months ago. Three months, really? Maybe I was getting too old to fight my brother with dumb swords. One time I said no to him and he moped for about a week.
I could hear cars and voices from the city around me. A quick look over the edge of the roof and I saw kids playing in the street. I was so tempted to shout at them to get inside, but I doubted they could even hear me from there. It was quiet up there, and it was kind of nice. I threw a couple of stones at the building next to us and practiced my swings with my sword until it got so hot that I had to go back inside.
The news was still silently throwing helplines at me with that map of the country still plastered on the screen. No changes. I checked Pesterchum-no one online. I checked a couple of news websites on the web to see if they said anything different but no, just the same standard crap about what to do. I was just about to click out and shut my computer down when I remembered that I still had that Japanese website open.
Sighing, I clicked on it to close it when the screen froze. My computer had gotten slow since my twelfth birthday but it hadn't really fucked up in this magnitude before. I clicked around a few times before getting fed up and hitting the side of the damn thing with my hand. Nothing happened. I got up and started to walk out of my room, having lost all patience with the stupid machine. Then there was a loud whirring sound and the light from the screen went darker. I turned around, staring right at it. The site had changed. It still had that black background, but the nonsense Japanese bullshit was gone. Instead there three words plastered in the middle of the screen, clear as day. Three words, blood red, and unmistakeably English.
"You were warned."
Notes:
-The uniform worn by the soldiers in the video is the uniform of the Japan Ground Self-Defense Force. After the Allies won World War Two, Japan agreed that it would abolish its previous military (the Imperial Japanese Army) because the IJA held onto the beliefs that led Japan into becoming a part of the Axis.
-The toxic waste that causes the disease is completely fictional, so please don't worry!
-John's aunt, (for the purposes of this fic) is Jane, making her the sister of Dad Egbert. I'm very aware of her actual relationship to the Egbert's.