Untitled

Written by Unnamed

When a plague starts...

It was the second class of the term, and Nathan was already drifting off to sleep, head slumping onto the desk in front of him. He knew he needed to stay awake. He genuinely, really, truly, wanted to make sure this year he did well. He only scraped by last year, and the shame was a bit too much. There was a reason for it. But that didn't matter to him. He was his grades. His grades were the measure of how he thought people looked at him.

So he was torn between being pleased and upset when Patrick poked him in the face to keep him awake, and scowled at him. He nodded though. Patrick had done him a favour.

"Genetics entered a pivotal part of history with Gregor Mendel's experiments with peas, however..."
And with that one sentence, Nathan was off again. He was 19 years old, and he had been hearing about Mendel's fucking peas since he was what, 14? He swore if someone mentioned goddamn wrinkled and smooth peas one more time he was going to physically remove their brain. He didn't even like peas.

Nate looked down the tables at his friends - Katie, on her tablet, maybe looking at notes, but probably playing a game. Mike, on his phone, reading something. And Patrick was constantly on Facebook, talking to his friends, his sister, whatever. Nate was the only one with enough decency to not pay attention without doing something else. But as he turned his head back towards the lecturer, and the slides on the board, someone pushed the door open and ran, no, skipped down the stairs to the teaching floor. The small man whispered something into his silver haired lecturer's ear - he didn't even know his name - and then ran back up the stairs at full tilt.

Anyone with that kind of energy amazed Nate.

The lecturer put his laser pointer down and looked at the class. "You'll need to stay in here for a short while after I finish the lecture, there has been an incident outside. They're just trying to clean up after it."

Obviously, that piqued attention from everyone, but he didn't let on if he knew any details. "I'm aware most of you probably have classes after this, but if they are registered classes, tell them to email me and I can sort out what happened. They'll know about this, already."

Nate turned to talk to Patrick, who shrugged, as did Katie. Michael had barely noticed anything had occurred. "What do you think happened?" Nate murmured quietly, as the lecturer had started droning on again about fucking peas again. The faint sound of sirens outside bothered him, and it was just as well he hadn't wanted to pay attention anyway.

"Someone probably just fell down the stairs or something, and landed the wrong way. I don't know." Patrick said, and Michael finally looked up with that dumb, blank look on his face. Nate rolled his eyes while Katie told him what the lecturer had said.

At the end of the lecture, instinctively, they all got up and started to get ready to move, before remembering that they had to wait. Nate grinned and sat down again, doodling on his writing pad. Everyone went back to the relaxed way they had been before they remembered they had to wait. But it was only five, ten minutes before the same man ran back in and whispered something else in the lecturer's ear, who's face hardened immediately. In the light of the hall it was hard to tell, but Nate was certain that something had happened now. Something bad enough to -

"We're going to be leaving through these doors," he said, pointing at the emergency doors at the bottom of the hall. "You will go to your left, and keep going until you see someone in a hazard jacket at a door. He will let you outside." Everyone looked at each other somewhat incredulously, because, well, there was no fire. What was the emergency? Why did they need to be let outside? They were curious. Gossip mongers wanted things to tell people, but the lecturer refused to give details. He was just stony faced, deliberate, and ushered everyone out of the hall.

The lighting in the corridor was tacky, making the yellow washed walls bright enough to hurt your eyes, but the 400 or so students dutifully filed their way along, meshing with lab classes, tutorials, until there was easily over 500 people packed all the way down the corridors of the building. The main at the door was strange - quickly checking everyone's eyes, asking how they felt, then letting them go, telling them to go straight home. Nate turned behind him towards Michael, Katie and Patrick. "Maybe there is a sickness going about, and they were afraid if we all rushed out of the building a bunch of us would catch it. Hey, maybe it'll be a new epidemic!" He joked, partially. They were all into that sort of thing. Each of them wanted to get into research, and even though they would never get their hands on any research of any sickness, they could dream. Dreaming is what kept them going.

Patrick split up from the group to head home, as he lived in the opposite direction. "Remember not to go kissing each other or something now, y'all might die." He cracked up at his own joke, knowing the three would never, ever, categorically get that close. That was Patrick though. He liked to joke. Nate rolled his eyes, and turned to walk away without saying goodbye. The others quickly caught up to him.

It wasn't a long walk to their flat from the University of Aberdeen, a fairly small, dismal, private affair. They each had their own room, it just wasn't the greatest of qualities. But what did you expect when you were a student? Michael unlocked the door and they all piled into the hall, dispersed to their rooms. Nate grabbed his laptop and headed to the kitchen / living room, started it up and smiled as Katie came through, already changed into her pajamas. If they were given a free day off (mostly) may as well make the best of it. Looking back at his laptop, he typed into Google Sky News. He figured he may as well check out the news, right? Maybe there was something specific about the incident that had occurred on campus. Maybe not. Scrolling through the headlines, he whistled through his teeth and looked up to Katie.

"Completely unrelated, but there's been a spate of murders all over the country. Like, everywhere. And not by the same person, obviously. It's all been in the past few days, no one could ever reach everyone in time. Like 30 people reported dead already. Nothing released. I wonder what's going on there. Maybe some spy network taking out liabilities." Nate put his hand to a gun and looked shifty, then winked at Katie, who laughed.

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm aware, sweetie. But on the subject of what happened on campus, there has been a new, unknown virus brewing apparently. Nothing to worry about, but I'll believe that when we've fucking, I dunno, mapped it's dumb ass genome."

He knew to take what the media said with a grain of salt. He knew that. But he looked out the window at the falling rain and found himself thinking - hey, maybe it really is nothing to worry about. Some virus just mutated an awful lot without us realising, but is ultimately harmless.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Sirens sounded outside, the world loud, yet distant. Nate could hear the cars driving by in the street below them, the helicopters in the distance making their way from the oil platforms, even the planes coming into the small Aberdeen airport. The cars, honk, honk, honking away in the distance. Everything seemed so, ultimately normal. Yet something unsettled him. Although, this was not necessarily a new feeling. He had always been unsettled. Always.

Touching a hand to his chin, feeling the faint fluff, he tried to think. Think about what, he didn't know, but think nonetheless. Michael came through and sat down with a smile, opening his own laptop. Just three friends, couched together with their laptops, enjoying their free time, with no responsibilities for the rest of the day.

It wasn't until later that night when looking out the window, Nate saw something odd. He'd just had dinner was cooling his body down through the draft at the window, looking down at the people passing below. People heading out, people shopping, people doing people things. Someone had shuffled their way up the street successfully, and Nate was wondering if the person was old, or disabled, or something, she was moving so slow but with visible determination. Someone rounded the corner coming down in the opposite direction, walking briskly. He wasn't even really paying attention to them, until a flash of movement caught his eye. The shuffling body had lashed out at the passerby, who fell to the ground, yelling. It was late - no one else was around right now. Nate cursed, then shoved some shoes on.

"I'll be right back," he said tot he other two, and left, running down the stairs in jogging bottoms and a loose shirt, running across the car park and out into the street, where the two were still struggling. Adrenaline and a deep need to be seen as a hero stopped Nate from thinking clearly, as he bolted across the road and pulled the assailant off what turned out to be a young woman, who he thought had been cooling down from a run. "Are you okay?" He said, breathless, as the attacker lay still. He poked the person with his foot.

"Yeah. She tried to bite me. I think she's lost her shit. I need to go, but call the police okay? Say she fell over and spasmed or something. She has foam at her mouth."

He nodded, and went to bring down the hood of the woman that attacked the girl, who had jogged off at a slightly faster than leisurely pace. Nate could understand that. The hood peeled back, he saw that the girl had kicked her in the head - there was a red mark, which should have faded by now, but somehow hadn't. The woman turned and hissed at him, and it was that that made him, the fearless, heroic Nate, scamper backwards without checking the road.

He was almost hit, almost, but not quite. The car stopped in time and honked, not even getting out to see if he was okay. "Fuck," he murmured. But when the car had left, the woman was gone.

What remained however, was a crushed skull, slightly disembodied, black, cold blood pooling. He looked away. It made him want to be sick, but he didn't. He'd seen worse in his head, and the smell hadn't hit his nose yet. Nate knew he should phone the police, but he was confused. The woman. She had had cold eyes, laced with murder, filled with anger, but not any kind of anger he could understand. And not any kind of eyes he could understand. It took him a long time to be able to place the eyes she had, which happened after phoning the police and sitting by the kerb.

Dead.

She had had dead eyes.