Zombieclypse (Book 1): Dead Quarantine Page 3

  Indeed, we don't have them, because the cure in those cases could be worse than the flu. We don't see the fatalities we could get from a quarantine as easily as from the flu. At six, almost seven billion people worldwide, a worldwide quarantine would have consequences and could also lead to the death of many.

  What changed with this flu?

  It's new, never been seen before. Almost no one has any defense against it, but for those who are naturally resistant and those who are immune.

  Ralph's mother coughed. “Guess I'm not immune.”

  She radiated a smile at him. “But maybe you are.”

  He couldn't help but to smile at her. She would not even give him a get out of jail free card with this pandemic looming over them.

  We calculated that about 4 percent are resistant and have a chance of not getting infected. The other 95 percent, if they get in contact with this virus, will get ill. We can't afford to have 95 percent of the population ill; we need a quarantine to ride out this virus.

  “So maybe you're not immune after all.”

  So maybe that get-out-of-jail-free card was still in the running. Ralph saw a way for him to get out of taking the test. A plan formed in the back of his head. He hoped his mother would swallow this shit on the radio. He decided to side with the conspiracy theorist; well partly, it was just a common cold and not necessarily preplanned by the government. He doubted the government would do anything like that; the current president was way too cool. He would never harm his country.

  How many would die if we don't quarantine?

  One in ten thousand.

  Doesn't sound that bad doctor.

  That's about six hundred thousand by the flu alone, and many more caused by people being too sick to be able to care for themselves and others. What a lot of people don’t know is that neglect kills.

  That's horrible! So what's keeping the government from doing something?

  A quarantine is not enacted on a moment's notice. It needs planning and the people should be informed in advance. We don't want them to panic. Panic also causes deaths.

  Again the nervous laughter.

  What time frame do you suspect...?

  “Watch out, Mom,” Ralph yelled, panic in his voice. “Brake!”

  The car swerved as his mother stepped on the brakes. The car jerked to a stop in the intersection. They flung forward; their seat belts pulled them back hard. Two yellow school buses raced by at speeds he had never seen them move at before. They show no sign of stopping or even slowing down. Had they not stopped in time, their car would have been flattened.

  “God damn them,” mom said.

  His mother turned off the radio as the doctor and the radio host were discussing the economic consequences of a quarantine. “I didn't see them coming! What has gotten into these drivers? Oh God, we could have been dead! Oh praise, God saved us!”

  Ralph didn't know about that. It was his timely warning and not God who had saved them. But he dared not say that to his mother; she would point out it was God that gave him eyes to see the oncoming hazard and God's hand that grabbed his face and pointed it at the oncoming buses. It was boredom that led him to yawn and look out the window. Chance saved them, chance, not God.

  He had not seen these yellow school buses since elementary school. The city drivers now rode these new ones with low floors so disabled kids could easily get on them. Well, whatever, he was just glad they were still alive and well.

  A car stopped behind them and honked. His mother jumped in her seat and then drove on, but before she did, she carefully looked both ways to make sure no other maniacs were driving on the road. As they continued to their destination, he heard the sound of helicopters in the air. He turned in his seat. Far away, he saw one. A black spot hung in the air among the clouds like a drop of paint forgotten by an artist on a lush painting. Odd occurrences kept adding up. Maybe something was going on, like the flu scare. Governments liked their emergencies. The politicians got their time in front of the camera and got to feel all self important. He was too young to be bothered by politics; maybe next year in college he would give it some thought. Whatever it was—flu or not—it would pass like every other crisis. He had his own crisis to contend with: his afternoon history test.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  His mother drove through the high school's main gate and stopped behind the same kind of yellow buses that almost rammed them. Two stood parked in front of the steps leading up to the school building’s main entrance.

  “What a coincidence,” she said.

  Ralph also noticed the buses, but he didn't think much about it. Yes, two similar buses almost drove them to their deaths, but luckily that hadn’t happen, and these couldn't possibly be the same ones, because those drove off in a direction away from the high school.

  At last, the moment of no return had arrived. The showdown with his exam of doom seemed inevitable. He watched his mother stare at the yellow buses; a frown appeared on her face. Maybe he could try one last ditch effort to bail out. On their way to school, after his mother had turned the radio off, he had tried and failed to convince her that the quarantine idea was not a bad one and that they should seclude themselves at home. She didn't want to hear it. Instead, he got a lecture about how important his grades were and if he ever wanted to get accepted by a half-decent college he needed to give his best effort.

  “Could the buses have something to do with what we heard on the radio?”

  She turned her head and locked eyes with him. No smile there this time. He had gone too far with bugging her about this.

  “Fine,” he said. Ralph grabbed his bag and got out.

  “I'll pick you up; your father can't make it in time.”

  Ralph had been looking forward to spending some time with his dad. Two weeks alone in a house with only females was nice—he loved spending time with Ginny and his mother—but with his father, he could relate things he never dared to tell his mom or sis. It didn't matter. He planned not to stay at school for long. He'd find a way out, a way to not take that test.

  “Okay, Mom, see you later.” He slammed the car door shut.

  “No kiss?” his mom said.

  He shook his head. He was not a kid anymore; he was almost a grown man now. She knew this, but still she never failed to ask for a kiss. He smiled at her instead

  She laughed, shaking her head while she started the car. Her laughter quickly turned into a barrage of coughs as she drove away. His smile vanished. To be honest, he wanted to kiss her. One last time, cherishing the feeling as he had when he was a little boy, but he felt ashamed to do so in front of his friends. What friends? He faced the school entrance. Most were acquaintances, classmates. He really only had one friend, Tom. Or fat Tommy, as the jackasses at school liked to call him. Tom might be a little weird, but he was the only person other than his immediate family that he trusted. Then, you had the many classmates, from which he liked Lilly and Sarah most, but he couldn't really call them friends. He did like them, especially Sarah, but it was Lilly he talked with the most. Sarah was with Jake; she didn't really look or talk to other guys.

  The twin green school doors swung open. Startled, Ralph backed down. Men in hazmat suits came barging out, escorting high school students to the bus. Tom came walking down after them. When he noticed Ralph, he came running down the steps, almost bumping into Ralph before he stopped. Breathing heavily from the exertion, the smell of Cheetos blasted Ralph's face, telling him all he needed to know about what his friend had for breakfast.

  “You see that?” Tom said between breaths.

  “Yeah, today has been weird.”

  “No kidding. They are talking about quarantining the world. Pure madness.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that on the radio.”

  They walked up the stairs, making room at the door for another group of men escorting teenagers out. Some of the teens where coughing, others looked sickly pale. None looked scared. Ralph didn't know if he would stay that calm if men in hazmat su
its were escorting him onto a bus. They seemed damn docile, as if nothing was wrong.

  “I believe they are quarantining people already,” Tom said.

  “On the radio, they said they had to plan first.”

  Tom swung one heavy arm sideways, index finger loosely pointing at the men escorting teenagers to the yellow bus. “Does it seem like they are planning?”

  No, it didn't. Ralph believed that Tom was right about the quarantine already being enacted. They must be dropping them at their homes to ensure they stayed with their families. Ralph imagined door after door marked with a big X and a contamination warning.

  “Looks like they took half the school already.”

  “Nah, only the ones who came to school sick, like the nerds they are, stupid geeks. Most just stayed home and called in sick.”

  Ralph bit his tongue so as not to point out that Tom was deemed a nerd and loved to study, but he managed to keep it to himself. Today, he didn't want to bicker with Tom about the obvious fact that neither of them were thought of as cool at this school, or ever would be accepted into the folds of the popular kids. For starters, both had never had a girlfriend. More than once these assholes alluded to them being gay, because they were inseparable. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, but it was the same thing as if they insisted a gay guy was straight. The gay guy wouldn't feel good about that. No, they were friends, good friends, and it was no wonder neither could get girlfriends with crazy stories like that going around.

  “Why do you look like you smelled shit? Is it something I said?” Tom asked.

  Ralph shook his head and patted his friend's shoulder. He swiped his hand against his jeans to get rid of the sticky wetness on it. Tom really should do something about his sweating; he seemed to sweat all over the place, everywhere on his body, yearlong.

  “Nah, just thinking about some unpleasantness.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you talk like an old man?”

  Use fancy words and they think you’re old. Like he could help he loved to read. He shrugged it off.

  “Let’s just go to class.”

  They went upstairs to the back of the building for their calculus class. The classroom was near empty; only ten pairs of eyes looked up at them when they entered the room.

  “You are late!” Miss Kate Larson said, standing at the whiteboard.

  At twenty five, she didn't look much older than most of her students. You could easily mistake her for a student if not for the fact that she dressed formally. She wore plain business dress everyday. Today, it was a dark dress that fit her body snugly, which was really distracting to the male population, because she sure was a looker. Miss Larson's face flushed. He must have been staring for too long.

  “Go sit at your desk,” she said.

  It didn't help she had those glasses on that made her look sterner; it only added to the image of the sex-upped teacher punishing her student in a very delightful manner. Smiling, he went and sat down at his desk. Tom took his usual seat next to him. Ralph loved Tom and liked his company, but he would much rather have a girl like Sarah sit next to him—just something he missed in his life.

  He looked around. Not one sick kid, although they all looked kind of tired. And scared? He thought about it further. Shouldn't he be scared after seeing what he had? He guessed not. It was clear it was an epidemic, so what if it were worse than normal? All they had to do was stay at home for a while and wait it out. But what if, like in this class, half the people were ill and the other half waited to become ill? What was the point of a quarantine if each family had one sick member? It negated the idea. It was an uncomfortable thought. He shifted in his seat.

  Miss Larson paced in front of the class, wringing her hands. A vain popped at the side of her head. She stopped pacing and turned, facing the class.

  “I know you are worried with all your classmates home sick, but despite that, lessons will continue.”

  He didn't expect less from her. He didn't mind really; calculus was one subject he was semi-decent in and the teacher was not all that bad to look at.

  “If you feel you are catching, go to the infirmary to be checked. The nice men from the World Health Organization will escort you home.”

  From WHO? He thought they were military, National Guard, not some private organization. It must be sanctioned by the government for them to operate this freely inside the U.S. Ralph turned to Tom.

  “Are you feeling ill?”

  “Nah, I'm fine, though both my parents and sisters are not. I came by myself. What about you?”

  “I'm fine too. My mom and Ginny got it. My dad is out of town.”

  Miss Larson raised her voice. Ralph could feel the sting of her eyes, so he kept himself from looking up.

  “The principal has requested I ask you this. Who is not feeling well? Raise your hand and speak up.”

  Tom raised his hand. Kids sitting near him veered away, as if that would prevent them from catching.

  “Okay, Tom, you can go to the nurse.”

  “Oh no, miss, I'm not ill. I want to ask a question.”

  “What is it?” she sounded slightly annoyed.

  “We have a history test this afternoon, is it still on? And what about those staying home, will they get a do over?”

  Really? Asking about a test? Who cared? Suddenly, it occurred to him that he did want to know. What if the teacher was ill? His problem would be solved.

  “Mr. Turner is present at school; you don't have to worry about missing the test. Those ill at home will of course get a chance to take it another day. This pandemic is out of our control; can't blame them for it.”

  Balls, the teacher was not ill and the test was still on. However, kids that were ill got taken home and could take the test later. Everybody would be quarantined. He would have ample time to prepare for the test, and this time around, he really would. He wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by a computer game. All be it, it was the newest Black Ops game or the next Halo.

  Ralph raised a hand. The teacher frowned.

  “Another question?”

  Ralph faked a fit of coughs. The kids in the room scrambled away from him. Tommy looked at him with a grin; he obviously deduced what he was doing.

  “Go to the school nurse immediately.”

  So easy. Ralph stood up. Tom gave him a thumbs up. “Call me when you get home.”

  Ralph nodded, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left the classroom, giving the teacher standing at the whiteboard a last approving glance.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mrs. Evergreen was the high school nurse. To him she was everything a school nurse should not be; she was integral to the community only in that she had been working for so long in the school district that she had become a fossil, consoling to the sick as Hitler would to a Jew, and the health education she gave was from a time when Ralph's parents were still in diapers. From this old nurse, you could only count on no support at all. Normally visiting the school nurse would fill him with dread, institutionalized dread from having and experiencing the same nurse since he was twelve. Not even now, with him almost being an adult, did it overcome years of this. But today was different. He hoped this uncaring institution of nursery would easily slap the sick sticker on him and send him packing to quarantine camp at home.

  He joined a long line that extended from the nurse's door. A girl with red hair stood before him. He had seen her walking around before, a new girl, one of the prettier girls. She usually stuck to her own classmates, so he never got a chance to speak with her—as if he ever would get a chance. She was coughing when he arrived and she looked at him. She wasn't so pretty now with the red-rimmed nose and eyes, and her hair wild and unkempt. She looked ill and seemed in no way to care about how she looked or about any pretenses. Her eyes went from his head down and back up.

  “What are you doing here?” she said, sounding nasally.

  “I caught the bug.” He certainly had now, standing so close to her.

&nb
sp; “You don't look like it.”

  “Well I carry it better than others.”

  She sniffled. Her eyes narrowed. Ralph fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her. She actually smiled when she took it, and he had to admit it made her look pretty. She turned away and snorted. He watched in disgust. How could so much nastiness come out of someone? She had the flu bad.

  The line moved forward. She held the handkerchief awkwardly in her hands. She turned back to him. “I guess you don't want this back?”

  He shook his head. “No, keep it.”

  The line moved again. It was going quickly. He thought it odd that no one came back out.

  “You are not really ill are you?” the girl said.

  He put his index finger to his lips. “She'll hear you. Besides, I am fairly sure I have it now,” he said, pointing at her.

  “Blame me all you want, but you are skipping school, ain't ya, Ralph?”

  He looked at her in surprise. She knew his name. He thought he went unnoticed at school. It must have been a coincidence; she had heard his name in passing.

  “Yeah well...test and all...yeah...”

  He stuck out his hand. “Well, I guess I'm at the disadvantage.”

  She slowly gave him her hand. “Lauryn.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lauryn.” He made a mock bow.

  Her hand felt soft and fortunately dry. She had small hands, yet she grabbed his firmly. She seemed a tad direct, but nice. He liked her already. What better place to make a potentially new friend than in a row waiting to enter Mrs. Evergreen’s hellhole?

  “Aren’t you afraid of getting infected?”

  “Asks the girl with a runny nose after passing me her germs by shaking my hand?”

  He was not sure he saw it right, but did she blush or was she running a fever? Probably his imagination.

  “But aren't you afraid?”

  “As I see it, this thing is all over the place; most of us are going to get ill anyway. My mom and sis are already ill. So when they quarantine us all—” He nudged his head at the infirmary door, the line moving forward. “—I'll be stuck in a house with flu patients. I'm already scheduled to be ill.”