You might be wondering why I was hanging out with my glee club friends instead of my parents or close family. Because the day it all started, we weren't in Lima, Ohio, but on tour to compete at regionals in Columbus, at our enemy's home. We had planned a very strong presentation. Mercedes and I would do a duet with the Troubletones backing us, there would be a collective number with the main group, those with several solo lines distributed to different persons and, unfortunately, there was the crappy almost mandatory solo by Rachel Berry.
We had just checked into a cheap hotel in Columbus, close to the auditorium where the competition was to take place, when the emergency news broke. That some kind of chemical or biological weapon had been released in several cities across the United States. Nobody expected something like this. It was September 11 happening again, such was our perplexity in front of the TV. It wasn't such a bomb that blew up half the city, but a video posted on the internet showed the moment when a guy wearing a gas mask left a backpack in the middle of Washington Square, during a cultural presentation, and ran away. The pack exploded a minute later, and what came out of it was green smoke along with shrapnel. The TV report said they were pieces of shredded metal that injured several people and killed at least 14 in Washington Square. Hundreds of people were taken to the hospital with injuries, but there were also others who weren't injured by the shrapnel, but who began to have reactions, such as coughing, eye and skin irritation. The attack was synchronized because they recorded occurrences in three more points in New York, in addition to Los Angeles, Houston, Chicago, Seattle, Denver and Washington DC: all at the same time and in places with a large concentration of people, including subway stations.
Due to such coordination, the federal government decided to close the borders and also the airspace for 48 hours. State governors have also taken security measures. In Ohio, the governor tightened security in cities, on subways, and suspended all events to be held in open public places. People were also advised to stay at home, but that was only a recommendation and not an order. Mr. Schuester called the organizing committee to check if our competition was still on. They said yes, it was.
Even as the government tried to assure the population that everything was under control, immediately a lot of people ran to the supermarkets. The streets were jammed, even in Westerville, which was a suburb of Columbus and also where Dalton Academy was located. There was a convenience store close to the hotel we were staying at, and I confess that I ran there to buy water, a flashlight, extra batteries, one of those pocket knives that even has nail clippers and peanuts. Brittany thought it was exaggerated because everything that should happen, already happened. But I was never the one to wait for the best to happen.
"We should go back to Lima." I heard Finn talking to Schuester.
"We need to stay calm and stay right where we are." He instructed us. "The competition still on. In the meantime, call your parents and tell them you're fine. Go into the panic mode is the worst thing we can do right now."
Schuester didn't even have to order it, as our cell phones were already ringing like crazy. I spoke to my parents. Abuela was on her way to my mother's house, and my father was asked to be on duty at the hospital. Everyone else was fine because no one would think of a terrorist attack in a small town like Lima.
We spent the afternoon in high anticipation between the competition and the terrorist attacks. Despite the horrific events, there was apparently no reason for panic. Then the competition took place, and the Warblers' fancy auditorium was filled to capacity, as if nothing had happened in the country. We won. We celebrated. We dedicated the useless victory to the victims of the attacks and the bravery of the American people. Nothing more hypocritical, right?
By the time we got back to the hotel, I was eager to hear more news. CNN debated the effectiveness of the attacks and speculated what kind of chemical might have been used on the population, because as far as it was known, people who were treated in hospitals remained hospitalized as a precaution. Other people who were admitted to hospitals due to symptoms such as eye and skin irritation were treated and released. In all, more than a thousand people in the affected cities were hospitalized, most of them with minor injuries. Officially, 102 people died as a result of the explosions across the country. Fox showed all of that too, but had another focus to discuss: journalists were more interested in identifying the terrorists, and speculated about what kind of extremists the government was dealing with. Until then, no known group had claimed authorship.
"We need stakes." Brittany said when me, her, Tina, Mercedes, Quinn and Sugar were in our hotel room.
"Stakes?" I smiled. "Do you think we'll have people turned into vampires?"
"I don't know, San. It could be that, or one of those powdered viruses."
"Anthrax?"
"That one."
"I don't think Brittany is wrong." Quinn was restless. "If it was a biological weapon, it makes sense that it was a virus. If it was a chemical weapon, well, we already did that in Vietnam."
"According to Wikipedia, Anthrax is a bacteria, not a virus." Tina corrected us.
"As if that would make any difference." I rolled my eyes. "What I want is to go home soon. If the end of the world really happens, I better be in the comfort of my house with my parents."
"I don't know about you, but I'm scared." Mercedes hugged Sugar. "We should pray."
Obviously, each person had a different reaction to a catastrophe. I just wanted to escape, get on that bus and go back to Lima. And what did I really do? I took a shower and lay down on my bed. I slept exhausted.
We were supposed to return to Lima early that morning, but something unexpected happened. Someone... probably the Warblers pickpockets and that scaly man named Sebastian Smythe... well, they slashed all the tires on our bus, stole the battery, and vandalized everything with toilet paper and pee. Mr. Schuester was desperate and so were we, because our ride home was out of road condition. Mr. Schuester called Dalton Academy to complain about the students, but the private school said it would not criminalize any of them, much less punish them without evidence. Dalton's headmaster also said that he wouldn't pay a penny to repair our bus unless the violation of his students was proven. Dalton, however, offered one of its own buses to take us back to Lima, as an act of goodwill and solidarity. But there was another catch: this bus wouldn't be available until the next morning, because they were currently being used by the Lacrosse and football teams. So that we poor people wouldn't complain, if we accepted the offer, Dalton promised to pay the extra night at the hotel.
Schuester accepted the offer, not least because he didn't have money from the school to fix the bus and wouldn't even take it out of his own pocket to make the repairs. Our teacher encouraged us to get to know the city at a time when tourism was risky. Anyway, that was William Schuester.
I, however, was pissed because I couldn't take that agonized feeling in the pit of my stomach any longer. Everything was fine at my house. Abuela and my mother were together, the fridge was full, and my father was with them, and he wouldn't be back at the hospital until the next day. It was a lying normality, because the country was apprehensive. CNN and Fox continued to speculate and update the situation in the hospitals and also regarding the identification of the people who planted the chemical or biological bomb.
But there were some independent journalists who brought completely different information. Of those, the one I followed the most was Craig Morrison, who was sometimes labeled a conspiracy theorist for believing in globalists and things like the Cabal. I subscribed to his Youtube channel because while he exaggerated and hyper-dimensioned certain things, he did interesting investigations. And when Graig posted videos of just a conjunctural analysis of events, he was usually right. There were many short video entries on Graig's Instagram and Youtube channels. In one of the most recent, this journalist said that the hospitals that received those affected were facing problems, because some of the patients also started to have psychotic episodes. Doctors, nurses and other patients were attacked. The night before, people who were at the attack sites but who didn't enter hospitals were also recorded having psychotic episodes, even attacking other people in the streets. Nobody knew it yet, but that was the birth of reapers. A person in Chicago was killed by cops after biting a guy's arm, to the point of ripping the skin off. I wasn't an impressionable person, but I was at that point.
"It's crazy in the markets. Kurt and I barely made it to buy supplies."
I pictured Kurt with another bunch of bags, showing off what he'd bought for the boys, or just for Blaine.
"What did you bring?" Mercedes asked.
"Water, chocolate, packets of biscuits, packets of toast, tampons, sugarless gum, batteries and a flashlight. I couldn't buy toilet paper, so I bought a bunch of Kleenex."
"You and Santana should get married!" Mercedes rolled her eyes.
"Only over my dead body!" Brittany protested and kissed my cheek.
"Not bad, Berry." I analyzed the items she managed to buy. "Anyway, we might steal toilet paper from the hotel. And the towels and sheets on the bed. Maybe we should buy a pistol!"
"Oh my God!" Quinn snapped. "Look what you are saying! The situation is already very serious and your paranoia doesn't help."
I mentioned buying a pistol as a joke. But as the news escalated, I started to get really worried. From the hotel window, we could see some movement of cars and police patrols. We could hear the sound of sirens frequently. In the same market place close to the hotel, there was also a small gun store. I didn't tell the girls what I was going to do, so I left the hotel's room and said I was going to the convenience store for a sandwich. I left the hotel and walked one block until I reached the market block. I thought I was going crazy, paranoid, but I still decided to go into the gun store, which was very busy. That didn't surprise me: we were in America.
"What is your cheapest, easiest-to-handle pistol?" I asked the only seller available. Everyone else was busy.
"Do you have experience?"
"I went to a shooting club once and I learned how to handle an airgun, the kind you use for shooting with pellets."
"Did you practice on pistols or carbines?"
"I used a carbine."
"I see..." The man looked at my face. "People hear the news and go crazy for toilet paper and batteries, right? But others think about the possibility of being forced to protect themselves. My wife is also in line at the supermarket right now... but that's because we don't need guns. We already have them at home."
"Right."
"Look, this is a revolver that I recommend for beginners looking for personal safety. I'd sell you an airgun, but there's a world war knocking on our door, right? You are a beautiful woman and you need to defend yourself. This is a very simple model, caliber 357 with a short barrel, it's very light, with a carbon fiber finish, and with a case for five bullets. The pull is very subtle, so you won't have any problems keeping your aim. As it is a small weapon, which fits in a purse, I recommend it especially for women. This model is also perfect to hide in the pants bar if you need to. I have a great deal on the leg holster."
"Only five bullets?" I checked the revolver.
"Girl, if you ever have to show that gun to someone, you're going to be in trouble. If you have to shoot, you'll be in even more trouble. Believe me, more powerful weapons are for fanatics who want to show off to other fanatics. Or they are for the army. They aren't for protection in a crazy city. Trust me: this revolver is enough."
The salesman handled the revolver, showed me how it worked and how I should clean it. I registered the mandatory possession of a gun and bought a box of bullets and that leg holster in the promotion with my credit card. If the war didn't happen, I was sure that my parents would ground me for eternity, even though I was already 18 years old. Not because they were radically against guns, and I knew my father kept one in his safe. But because they had a theory that the effect of the gun at home should be more psychological than effective. I wanted one, I should bought with my own money after taking many training courses. Anyway, I bought a gun with the credit card my parents would pay for and put it all into my backpack.
When I got to the hotel, Brittany gave me a look like she wanted to know where I was and why I decided to go out alone. Not that she was the jealous type (even though she was a little bit), but because she knew that I was very stressed with this whole thing about the attack and she was afraid that I was going to do something stupid, like fighting in the street.
"Do not worry. I just went for a sandwich and a walk to clear my head." I told my girlfriend, but actually, I had a brand new revolver in my backpack, and it freaked me out.
It wasn't the first time I'd regretted buying something five minutes later, and I was embarrassed to return it. It was like the day I bought weed from Puck, and flushed it all down the toilet after my dad came home disappointed because he lost a 13-year-old patient to an OD. Or the day I bought a bag just because Quinn complimented the accessory's design. I sent that crap back the next day, ashamed of myself for the lack of personality. I've never been so embarrassed, not even the day I shoplifted and got caught. I didn't say anything to anyone about the gun, and I knew full well that Brittany didn't buy my story.
We spent the second night in Columbus divided into two groups, doing basically the same thing: watching the news and talking. The local program said that the governments of Illinois and Ohio were negotiating patient transfers because hospitals from Illinois weren't able to cope with the demand. Craig Morrison said doctors and nurses were also becoming infected and quickly becoming ill. I phoned my father. He answered.
"Dad, are you okay?"
"Yes, everything is under control here in Lima."
"Did you go back to the hospital?"
"Yes, I was called."
"Dad, I have a bad feeling. Drop it and run. Stay with my mother, please!" I pleaded with him on the phone.
"Remember what I always say: losing your mind won't solve any problems. Be well, my dear. Don't do anything stupid and come home when the time is right. I love you, mija."
My dad hung up when someone called out to him. I was even more distressed because he didn't tell me to run home as usual. For the first time, he told me, even though he used different words, not to be in a hurry to go home.
The next day, when I woke up, we went to the hotel's cafeteria, where they offered guests a basic and simple breakfast. The streets were deserted that morning. The other guests who were there commented with concern because a curfew was decreed in the cities affected by the attacks, due to a strange psychotic break. Independent journalists were reporting that police forces in the cities were cordoning off areas near the hospitals, which was very suspicious. Why they were isolating quarantine areas in cities if everything was under control?
The Ohio government declined to take patients from Chicago or any other city, and that was a relief. I was checking several news channels, including the local ones. It was in one of these regional media that report about a guy who was in Washington D.C going to Fort Wayne. He started to feel sick on the road and asked for help at a gas station near Lima. He was taken to the hospital from there. Suddenly, I was sick. I remembered that my father was called back to the hospital just yesterday. I tried to talk to him and I couldn't. Then, I called to my mother.
"Ana?" She answered. "Are you okay?"
"I'm the one asking, Mom. I heard on the news that there is a contaminated guy who came from Washington D.C."
"This patient is isolated in a secure area of the hospital. Don't worry."
"My father is in the hospital."
"The hospital in Lima is under control, my dear. They are quarantined over there. Your father tries to call me every three hours. He is fine. He wasn't the one who received this patient."
"I saw on TV that they are isolating areas close to hospitals."
"Ana, in these cities hundreds were contaminated by something unknown. It's much easier to lose control under these conditions. Here in Lima, we only have one individual, who is isolated. Everything is fine."
"I will go home as soon as I can."
"Don't be in such a hurry, Ana. Abuela and I talked. And your father supports the idea of us going to your uncle's house in Indian Lake."
"Is that decided?"
"Not yet. I'll call you later. If you don't make it on time, I'll leave your car keys in our secret place and I'll take some of your clothes with me. When you can, just get in the car and go to your uncle's house."
"Mom… so something serious is happening in Lima. Don't lie to me, please!"
"Everything unknown is serious. Your dad won't be able to come home for the time being, and even when he can, he says he'd better not contact us until he's sure he's safe."
"But..."
"Just do as I ask, Santana Maria."
"Okay, mom."
"I love you, mija."
"Me too."
I went to Graig's channel, and the last video he posted was just a two-minute one earlier that morning. He said that the hospital he was following in New York had collapsed, and that he had heard that a person hit by the attack had died, but later came back to life. Without saying the word zombie, this guy was the first one to mention zombies.
"Sorry to leave my audience, but I need to think about my own life. I'm going home to get my wife and daughter, and we're going to get the hell out of here. Stay well and good luck."
I was desperate, wanting to leave that shitty city. I wanted to pull my father out of the hospital in Lima because a sick person was taken there. Brittany tried to console me, while some of our friends were laughing at my outbreak (meaning Puck and that Irish asshole), saying I got infected. Schue tried to control us based on the scream and the scowl.
"I know you all are tired and frustrated. I'm too. Dalton's driver should arrive around noon, and we'll all go home in peace."
What did I do? I packed my backpack, which had a gun in it. My flashlight, batteries, and packets of peanuts didn't come out of the plastic bag, but they were with my stuff. I wore my pajama top, jeans, and sneakers because it was the cleanest thing I had. My uniform was rotten and I wouldn't come back wearing the competition dress.
"It's going to be okay, San." Brittany sat next to me on the hotel bed and kissed me lightly on the lips.
"I hope so, Britt."
That's when I got the message from my mother. She and Abuela empty the pantry and were leaving town. The Roselita's key would be waiting for me under the vase of roses. I was looking at my friends. Everyone else was anxious to get back too, except for Puck and the Irish boy. Puck was an asshole with a bitter mother, and the Irish boy obviously lived on another continent. I knew that my mother's telling me to move to another city was serious. It could be paranoia, but my father was in the hospital, and for him to send my mother and his mother out of town, to his brother's house, the one he didn't get along very well, it was because there was something serious going on that my dad wasn't saying.
"Britt, Cedes, Quinn…" I called my closest friends and my girlfriend.
"What, Satan?" Mercedes picked me up.
"I just got a message from my mom. She's leaving town on my father's orders, and she told me to meet her at my uncle's house in Indian Lake."
"It's not like your father is sending your mother across the country." Quinn rolled her eyes. Indian Lake was a touristy vacation spot that had a bunch of small villages around the shores. It was only 30 minutes from Lima and on the way between Columbus and my house. My uncle owned a boatel there, and also had a shop for renting and selling boats, kayaks, paddle boards, and all kinds of nautical accessories.
"Do you think that's the issue, Fabray? My father works at the hospital that received that contaminated patient. If he sent my mother out of town, he knows something bad is going on."
"Did he say what it is exactly?"
"No, he didn't. What did your parents say?"
"Nothing other than that they are concerned about terrorist attacks." Mercedes responded, "Shall I warn them?"
"I don't know. Maybe?"
"Anyway, we'll be on our way to Lima in a little while." Fabray pointed down the street, where a school bus had just arrived in front of the hotel.
We took our backpacks and luggage and entered in silence into the bus provided by Dalton. It wasn't just us on the shuttle, as there were the jazz band boys and some of the cheerio girls who decided to join in the Troubletones. Aisha's mother, one of the Troubletones' cheerio, was a nurse at the same hospital where my father worked. She looked as worried as I was.
"Hey Ash." I sat next to her at the back of the bus. "Did your mom mention if anything is going on at the hospital by any chance?" I spoke softly, discreetly.
"She spoke about the patient..." Aisha said even more quietly. "She said the guy is tied up, that he looks like an animal. She said when he arrived, he was sedated, but after he woke up, he trashed the whole room, it took like four guys to restrain him. Now those guys who had direct contact are also in the isolated area."
"My God..."
"My mother said that the hospital is in quarantine. That they were ordered not to say anything to anyone… anyway..." Saying nothing to anyone is almost begging for the information to be leaked.
"My dad said that too. From the quarantine part, at least."
"Did he tell you anything else?"
"No, he didn't. But he asked us to get out of the town and stay away for a few days."
"I don't even know where I would go. It's just my mom and me."
Aisha said in a way that cut my heart.
At that moment, ironically, we passed Indian Lake. I guessed my mother was already there with Abuela, or on her way. I was tempted to ask to stay there, but Schuester would never allow it because it was against school's rules.
At the entrance to Lima there was a police barricade. Schuester went downstairs to talk to the cop. Documents were checked, and when Schuester returned, he ran a hand through his hair and communicated with students.
"It's okay, guys. They are checking where we were coming from."
"Mr. Schue, have you seen the video that is circulating on the internet?" Artie asked.
"Which video?"
"From Seattle?" Artie insisted and shared the link with everyone there.
I opened the video on my cell phone, which showed images from inside one of the hospitals, the chaos that was there. It was of a nurse who was crying, locked in one of the rooms, and the video recorded through the window in the door showed a bunch of people upset, pulling their own hair. I couldn't understand half of what she was saying because of the crying and the noise, but this nurse said something about 24 hours for the sick people become full demons. And she also said something about those sick people being sensitive to light, and being infected because of a bite.
"My dad told my mom and abuela to get out of town." I finally revealed it to everyone in my own words. "I'm not getting off this bus. My mom went to Indian Lake, so I'm going back with my friend over there." I pointed to the Dalton Academy driver.
"Santana, I don't think this is an appropriate conversation. You have no right to spread panic. We don't even know if this video is real!" Schuester raged.
"Honestly, I don't give a fuck." I replied.
When we finally arrived in front of McKinley High, Artie was always the first to get off the bus, and he did. His parents were waiting for him. Mercedes went down too, as did Sugar, the Irish boy, most of the cherrios, the jazz band guys, Puck, Mr. Schue, Kurt, Finn, and Rachel. I remained on the bus, and with me were Sam, Aisha, Joe, Quinn, Tina, Mike, Brittany and Blaine.
"I saw all zombie's movies. No way I'm staying here. And I live with Blaine… It's not that I have a real house to worry about." Sam apologized.
"Everyone in that hospital could be doomed... Santana's father and... my mother too." Aisha said with tears in her eyes. "I have nowhere else to go. My mom…" Aisha wiped her tears. "My mom would tell me to fight for my life, so I will."
"My parents are out of the country." Mike said.
"Mine are out of town." Tina amended. "I don't want to be alone in this zombie town."
"Wherever Santana goes, I go." Brittany kissed me on the cheek. "But I will definitely call my parents to get out of here."
"My family lives in Dayton..." Blaine also apologized. "I live in Lima sharing an apartment with Sam... so..."
"Something tells me I need to stay on this bus." Joe said prophetically. "Maybe god is telling me this."
"Well, I don't have a plausible reason either." Quinn rolled her eyes. "It's just instinct, and I'm not a big fan of my own family. Either way, I'm also going to call my mom to get out of town asap."
So that's how it started.