This is my first attempt at fan-fiction. The characters Jim, Selena, and Hannah are copyright Fox Entertainment. The plot and characters are copyright 2003, Amanda E. Cassidy.
Jim, Selena, and Hannah watched the sky as the plane circled overhead once more. Jumping and yelling, they grew anxious as the plane did not stop or swoop down to get them.
"Help!! We're not infected! Help us!!!" Selena screamed.
The plane circled round one more time before descending into a nearby field. Our three heroes ran toward the field.
"There's only three of you?" someone yelled from the plane.
"Only three," replied Jim.
"Well hurry up and get on, I haven't got all day."
The man speaking to them was not English. He was American.
"You're not from here, how'd you get this plane over here?" Hannah asked.
"I was in Wales on business when the epidemic broke out. I stole this plane and enough fuel to last a year traveling over every ocean from a vendor whose entire family was infected."
"Have you been killing the infected when they find you?" Selena asked.
"You mean when I find them, of course. Most of them are dying now, though, lack of food. I don't know what those beasts eat. Obviously they're not getting a hold of it here."
"What about the rest of the world? Any radio broadcasts, TV, internet?" It was Jim's turn to speak up.
"It's looking pretty grim. I've gone east, the epidemic reached Asia, though they tried quarantining. The people didn't know what they were up against. The bastards that were responsible for this, I hope they paid for it all."
Silence. You could tell the four were contemplating their fates. Hannah looked out the window. They were flying over London. The streets, almost empty, save the frail bodies of the diseased, dead or dying.
"Do you think there'll be another wave of this madness?" asked Hannah.
"How much worse could it possibly get?"
"We could be dead," remarked Selena, her voice blank, emotionless.
"Then how would we know, we couldn't care about what happened."
Jim sat, expressionless. He seemed uninterested in the conversation or the scenery. There was a look of pain in his eyes, but only his eyes, his face giving away nothing.
"Are there any more with you?" asked Selena.
"When I left there were five. Who knows how many now."
"Why are you so pessimistic? We are alive and uninfected," Hannah said softly.
"It would be better to be dead. Then we wouldn't have to awake each day and face this hell. Or sleep with one eye open. This isn't living. This is surviving. You're so young. Do you want to spend the rest of your life like this? It hardly seems worth it."
They sat in silence once again. Minutes, seemingly hours passed. Looking out the windows, they saw beautiful western England. But it seemed so painfully wrong. So empty. Hannah sniffled quietly and Selena put her arm around the girl.
"What's wrong, Jim?" asked Selena, a hint of worry in her voice.
"Who? Me? Oh, nothing. Why, why, did I say something?" Jim stuttered.
"Tonight, you must sleep Jim," Selena scolded.
"It's that bloody nightmare. I feel like this is still a dream." Said Jim.
Jim closed his eyes and could see himself lying on the table in the surgery, Selena fighting back tears and beating on his chest to restore life. He could see the IV she'd stuck in his arm, and Hannah standing away, covering her face but still peeping through to watch as Selena tried to bring him back. He saw his chest heave a few times and then his eyes flutter open. Then he saw blackness. And this was what he saw every night. This was what kept him awake.
(End of part one, feedback will be much appreciated! Let me know if I should continue in this direction.)
Jim, Selena, and Hannah watched the sky as the plane circled overhead once more. Jumping and yelling, they grew anxious as the plane did not stop or swoop down to get them.
"Help!! We're not infected! Help us!!!" Selena screamed.
The plane circled round one more time before descending into a nearby field. Our three heroes ran toward the field.
"There's only three of you?" someone yelled from the plane.
"Only three," replied Jim.
"Well hurry up and get on, I haven't got all day."
The man speaking to them was not English. He was American.
"You're not from here, how'd you get this plane over here?" Hannah asked.
"I was in Wales on business when the epidemic broke out. I stole this plane and enough fuel to last a year traveling over every ocean from a vendor whose entire family was infected."
"Have you been killing the infected when they find you?" Selena asked.
"You mean when I find them, of course. Most of them are dying now, though, lack of food. I don't know what those beasts eat. Obviously they're not getting a hold of it here."
"What about the rest of the world? Any radio broadcasts, TV, internet?" It was Jim's turn to speak up.
"It's looking pretty grim. I've gone east, the epidemic reached Asia, though they tried quarantining. The people didn't know what they were up against. The bastards that were responsible for this, I hope they paid for it all."
Silence. You could tell the four were contemplating their fates. Hannah looked out the window. They were flying over London. The streets, almost empty, save the frail bodies of the diseased, dead or dying.
"Do you think there'll be another wave of this madness?" asked Hannah.
"How much worse could it possibly get?"
"We could be dead," remarked Selena, her voice blank, emotionless.
"Then how would we know, we couldn't care about what happened."
Jim sat, expressionless. He seemed uninterested in the conversation or the scenery. There was a look of pain in his eyes, but only his eyes, his face giving away nothing.
"Are there any more with you?" asked Selena.
"When I left there were five. Who knows how many now."
"Why are you so pessimistic? We are alive and uninfected," Hannah said softly.
"It would be better to be dead. Then we wouldn't have to awake each day and face this hell. Or sleep with one eye open. This isn't living. This is surviving. You're so young. Do you want to spend the rest of your life like this? It hardly seems worth it."
They sat in silence once again. Minutes, seemingly hours passed. Looking out the windows, they saw beautiful western England. But it seemed so painfully wrong. So empty. Hannah sniffled quietly and Selena put her arm around the girl.
"What's wrong, Jim?" asked Selena, a hint of worry in her voice.
"Who? Me? Oh, nothing. Why, why, did I say something?" Jim stuttered.
"Tonight, you must sleep Jim," Selena scolded.
"It's that bloody nightmare. I feel like this is still a dream." Said Jim.
Jim closed his eyes and could see himself lying on the table in the surgery, Selena fighting back tears and beating on his chest to restore life. He could see the IV she'd stuck in his arm, and Hannah standing away, covering her face but still peeping through to watch as Selena tried to bring him back. He saw his chest heave a few times and then his eyes flutter open. Then he saw blackness. And this was what he saw every night. This was what kept him awake.
(End of part one, feedback will be much appreciated! Let me know if I should continue in this direction.)