Zombieclypse (Book 1): Dead Quarantine Page 4

  “Yeah, it sucks really. I like it at school. I thought I could ride it out, but the teacher sent me here.”

  One of the nerds Tom had referred to. He was sure if Tom were to meet her, his not so mild view would change. What was there not to like about her? Besides her being filled with mucus and not being Sarah. Still, a near-friendless man like him should not be picky, but he was. Despite that, somehow she passed. It must have been the smile. The question he feared, however, was whether he passed her inspection. What went through this girl’s head? He couldn’t remember ever seeing her talk to a guy. Then again, he had only seen her a few times. It didn't make their current conversation all that special.

  The line moved. She was next. There was a chance that after this he would not see her anytime soon. They could be taken on separate buses, going different routes. He really didn't know.

  “Lauryn.”

  She threw a questioning glance at him, her brows slightly raised. “Yes?”

  “How did you know my name?”

  She chortled and coughed almost immediately after. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You are decent looking.”

  Decent looking? What was that? He had no idea what girls considered decent.

  “Any girl would notice you walking around, being all serious and reserved, surrounded by the boisterous boys at this school. You stick out, and it is also hard to miss you always walking with that fat guy.”

  He pulled a bit away in distaste. Calling Tom fat? Well, he was, but he was his friend and Ralph really didn’t like people making fun of Tom. Not even cute girls.

  She brought a hand to her mouth. “I'm sorry, I...”

  “Next,” they heard Mrs. Evergreen’s hoarse voice from behind the door.

  “I didn't want to be rude to your friend.”

  “Yes you did; you better move along.”

  She hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to say, and then turned abruptly and entered the infirmary, leaving him behind to stare at the closed door. Shit. Way to ruin the moment. He could have been a little more forgiving instead of lashing out at her. It was this high school, with these asshats teasing Tom. It ticked him off.

  “Hey, Ralphie.”

  He whirled around. He had been so entranced in his talk with Lauryn that he had not noticed the line had grown by ten behind him. Almost the entire football team stood behind him—the asshats he disliked. However, the head asshat, Jake, was missing. The one talking was Jake's right-hand man, and for all Ralph knew, he was THE right-hand man. A real wanker, that Anton.

  “Could not even score with that slut,” Anton said.

  They were always so unselfish with their insults, throwing them away so freely and hoping they would stick. This time it did.

  “What happened to you guys? Have you all been sharing the same drinking cup or was it that you guys couldn't stop holding each others limp, pencil dicks again?”

  He must have a death wish. They closed in on him, surrounding him. “What did you just say?” Anton said, threatening.

  “Do you have trouble hearing? I knew they were wrong about you going blind if you spank the monkey a lot; they must have meant you go deaf.”

  Death wish or not, it had never stopped him from standing up to these jerks who thought they could do whatever to whomever. He would mess one up good before they got to him. At least he was close to the infirmary. That thought sent a shudder down his spine. Mrs. Evergreen’s treatments could do more harm than any beating he might get from these cavemen.

  “Get him,” yelled some guy in the back.

  Ralph pressed his back against the door. Maybe there was no need to fight. Anton hit his palm with a meaty fist, while glaring at Ralph. “I'll enjoy this.”

  Ralph pushed his hand behind him and grabbed the door handle. He waited. Anton pulled his fist back. Ralph kept still, intently watching Anton's ice blue eyes. A twitch. Quickly, Ralph opened the door and ducked inside. He heard Anton's fist smash against the hardwood door and the curses that followed. Anton's friends threw obscenities at the closed door. Words did not hurt, but a solid door did.

  “What's the meaning of this?” Mrs. Evergreen yelled at him.

  The old, thin but tall woman folded her arms. Her hawkish nose pointed forward, a snarl of mouth under it, while her eyes burned with anger. It was a welcome face in lieu of a possible beating. He saw Lauryn being escorted out a door in the back. She turned to look. He smiled at her. Her face lit up as she smiled back. A man in a hazmat suit nudged her on. Ralph looked wary at the rifle slung on his back.

  “Why does he have a rifle?”

  “Answer my question,” Mrs. Evergreen screeched.

  “I thought you called.”

  “Well I didn't.”

  With that said, she stayed motionless and silent as she watched him. It creeped him out. He felt himself frozen in place, not knowing what to do. She didn't answer his question, and he doubted she would if he asked again. Was this really just WHO doing its job? A service to the people? Why the rifle? Since when did health care personnel carry weapons?

  Finally, he asked, “Do I have to take my shirt off and lay down?”

  “What you got to do is wait like a good boy until the kind sirs come and get you.”

  Ralph scratched the back of his head.

  “No test for if I'm really ill?”

  “You? Ill? From here I stand, you are healthy as a buckaroo's horse.”

  He turned pale. She had caught on to his little scheme. What to do? He coughed. She didn't flinch. He did a series of deep coughs, emulating those fits he had heard all day. He almost choked on one and coughed for a while, beating his chest for air.

  “Come on, little Ralphie.” He hated being called that. “You can't play these old tricks on me. Always thinking you are smart, but you ain't. You are just a pesky little rodent with worthless dreams like the rest.”

  The two men in hazmats returned. The tallest looked from the nurse to Ralph and back to the nurse.

  “Is he contaminated?” the tall man said.

  “Does it really matter if he is?”

  “What is going on here?” Ralph said. Something was wrong. There was nothing civil about this; he felt like he was cattle with no say if he was brought back to the pen or taken to the slaughterhouse.

  They ignored him.

  “Nurse, answer the question.” Agitation showed in the man's voice.

  Mrs. Evergreen locked eyes with Ralph while addressing the soldier. “Yes, he is, take him away.”

  Ralph backed against the door. Before he could think about repeating his previous escape trick, the two men each grabbed an arm and pulled him away.

  “What is this?”

  The men did not answer him; instead, they escorted him to the back door.

  “Nurse! Mrs. Evergreen! Tell them!”

  “You’re infected. We all are boy. We all are tainted.”

  Tainted. She had finally lost her marbles, although at the worst time ever. He hoped this was the last time he ever saw her. The men pushed him outside the room. One held him by the arm, keeping him close while the other walked behind him. Ralph got a closer look at them. The hazmat suit was semi see-through; he could see combat fatigues. He lowered his sight to their shoes. Combat boots. These were no health care workers who happened to be armed; these were soldiers required to be armed.

  “Sir.” He craned his neck to see the other man. “Sir.”

  He shoved him. “Keep walking.”

  They passed through a hallway and walked toward twin iron doors that opened to the courtyard at the school’s rear. Two buses stood next to each other. One was full and the driver was just closing the door. The other one had a few high school students sitting in the back and a familiar face in the front. The sun shone on her red hair, making it brighter than it already was.

  More men in hazmats stood around the buses. All were armed. His gut wrenched. Lying about being ill was not such a good idea after all.

  “I'm not ill; I
don't have the flu.”

  “Walk.” Again a shove against his back.

  “Seriously—” A rougher shove. He tripped forward.

  The one holding him yanked him upright. “Watch where you are going.”

  This was not right. This was not the way he should be treated. He was a citizen of a free country. This was not communist China or some African dictatorship; this was the land of the free and the brave. He struggled to get free. Grabbing the soldier’s hand, he tried to twist his wrist. The one walking behind him raised the stock of his rifle and slammed it against his head. He staggered forward, dazed. His head screamed in pain; he whirled around, confused. He saw Sarah. No, not Sarah, but Lauryn. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide, terrified. Two pairs of hands grabbed him, lifted him up, and threw him in the bus. He smacked the floor, the side of his head banging against it and igniting more pain in his head.

  “If he leaves, shoot him,” a soldier barked. “Shoot him in the head, you hear. Only thing that puts them down.”

  The world seemed to float around him. For a moment, he thought he was upside down. Two small, soft hands grabbed him, pulling him upright. He tried to swat them away.

  “Ralph,” a voice said. He tried to look but only saw a haze floating in front of him. He was shaken about. “Ralph!”

  “Yeah,” he said, still groggy. He touched his head. A bump was growing. The bastards hit him hard.

  “Are you all right?” He looked up into Lauryn's worried face.

  “Do I seem all right to you?”

  “Can you stand?”

  She helped him up. He stood wobbly on his feet, but with her support, he got on the front seat behind the driver. The driver’s seat was empty. His sight steadied. In the back of the bus, the teenagers looked on in silent shock. Much help they were, but what did he expect from freshmen? Just kids really, fresh from their mother's tit—well not really, at least he hoped not. He couldn’t really blame them for being scared and doing nothing to help him. Kids against armed soldiers would not work well at all.

  “What happened?” Lauryn asked.

  “I fessed up about not being ill; they didn't care much about that.”

  She touched the side of his head. He winced. It hurt and it would be worse later on. He already felt the throbbing that would become a splitting headache. Really, he should have just stayed in the classroom, minded his own business, and swallowed the bitter pill the exam would be.

  He saw her staring at him with her fevered eyes. She seemed to have lost all care for her own situation and was giving him all the attention he needed, while she barely knew him. It felt good. He didn't understand why she did so; he would never understand girls and the women they became. So different from men, it boggled his mind.

  He sat upright and swiped her hand away. She gave him a hurt look.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. As she stood to leave him, he grabbed her hand.

  “Please stay.”

  She sat next to him. “I thought you—”

  “I didn't mean to; my head just hurts. Why are you so nice to me?”

  She stared outside at the high school door. It swung open and soldiers came out escorting one of the jocks.

  Lauryn coughed. “I don't know really...I think like you.”

  He didn't listen to her answer; he had instead followed her stare to the outside. The soldiers pushed the jock—his name evaded Ralph—inside the bus. Bewildered, he looked around until his eyes finally met Ralph's. The jock wiped snot from his nose and walked past while glaring at Ralph. In the back, he chased the freshmen out of their seats and sent them scurrying to the front.

  “Asshole,” Ralph mumbled.

  Everybody around him was ill, sniffing their noses and coughing, but despite that, nothing seemed to have changed. High school was still a shitty place riddled with bullies and parents sugarcoating it or overreacting about it, but never really changing it. Things stayed the same, always the same. The perceived strong went after the perceived weak. And all those in the middle suffered through it or actively complied with it. He hoped college would be different.

  Lauryn put her hand on his. She felt warm. It was as pleasant as it was worrying. He liked the girl, but that warmth was not healthy. She certainly was running a fever.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “This is the worst flu I ever had.” She touched her chest. “It hurts here.”

  She coughed. The sound she made was like when his uncle, Lester, coughed after having smoked his second pack of cigarettes for the day. He had died last year. Too old and too worn out for a lung transplant, the doctors said. There was nothing good about that cough. It wasn't just Lauryn who coughed like that; the others had a similar cough.

  As he patted her hand, another jock was pushed inside. He walked to the back. Spitting down as he went. A yellowish muck mixed with red. They kept coming and taking their places in the back, filling the places the freshmen occupied before. Finally, Anton came out last, escorted by two soldiers, each gripping one arm, rough handling Anton under his loud protest. The big guy didn't look that fearless now; his youthful face was set in hurt disdain. Still, he kept up the charade of being this tough juvenile.

  Just like his friends before him, he looked bewildered, and just like them, he noticed Ralph sitting in front. Anton’s fearful eyes set in anger.

  “What you looking at?” he yelled.

  Ralph chose to ignore him. He whispered something in Lauryn’s ear and she giggled. This upset the big guy. He dashed forward, fist raised. Ralph raised his own fist high, covering his face, ready to take the brunt of the attack. It never came. Anton fell to his knees, retching coughs that made his body shudder. He spat blood.

  “Hey, man, are you okay?” a jock asked from the back. Another came running and helped Anton up.

  “We'll get you later,” Anton said while being helped to the back. They were fighting words, because all fight had left him. Anton looked scared, very scared.

  “You shouldn't have done that,” Lauryn whispered.

  She was right; he shouldn't have. He didn't know what was up with him being so defiant all of a sudden. He liked keeping out of sight of everything not directly concerning him. Could it be that this restlessness gnawing at him about his immediate future after high school finally had gotten to him?

  “Well, you thought it was funny,” he said.

  She giggled until a cough stopped her. “God, this is getting worse.”

  It was a concerto of coughing in the bus. He was the sole person not contributing to the orchestra. It ought to be noticed. He looked at her. It would pain him to leave her, but he had to try. Wherever this bus was going was not meant for him. He did not like the way this quarantine was going. It was unlikely they would drop them at home. More than likely, they would be sent somewhere far away so they could not infect anyone. A concentration camp for the sick.

  Soon, the bus filled up. The first one had driven away a while ago and an empty bus took its place. Kids continued to walk out of the school, though less frequently now, and were escorted to the other bus. They must have almost been done with herding sick people. After fifteen minutes, a driver appeared. He was a middle-aged man, who was balding and plump at the waist. He was also healthy, and the sole adult without a hazmat suit on. He wore plain clothes instead of combat fatigues.

  He took his place behind the steering wheel, said nothing to anyone, and didn't even look at his passengers. He closed the doors and started the engine, but before he could drive off, Ralph dashed to his side.

  “Sir, I have to get off.”

  The man sighed. Still staring ahead, he said, “No one is to get off until we reach our destination.”

  “I'm not infected.”

  He looked at Ralph and at the others behind him.

  “I guess you are not, but you most likely will be by the trip’s end. Go sit down.”

  Why was the driver so smug? “Won't you get the flu?”

&nbs
p; The driver chuckled and tapped his forearm. “I got the vaccine; that bug won't get me. Now go sit down!”

  The driver pushed the gas pedal and the bus spurted forward, sending Ralph stumbling back to his seat. All the while he questioned what he had gotten himself into this time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  He was now sure that they weren't going home. An hour had passed since they left the city limits. This was turning out to be the nightmarish situation he feared it would be. They would be quarantined in concentration camps like the Japanese Americans were in World War II. A fact he learned for his stupid history test in his last ditch effort to learn anything, but he was sure now it didn't matter. The test would be waiting for a long time—that was if he ever made it back from whatever hole they planned to put him in. God, for all he knew he would be away for months and would have to do the year over.

  Lauryn fell asleep with her head resting on his shoulder, drool seeping out of her mouth. He didn't mind. Before she dozed off, they had talked about everything but the situation they were in. He knew now that she was an orphan living in foster care. Too old to be adopted. When she turned eighteen, she would be on her own. She had not gone into detail, but she had told him enough that he had this picture of who she really was. A nice girl, whom he could really like if circumstances were different.

  Maybe once this was over he would ask her out on a date. He already had shared her bodily fluids, being as she had sneezed, coughed, and drooled all over him. It would be a mere formality getting to know her better on a date. Ralph huffed. He had never been this close to a girl before. Maybe he'd finally get over his crush on Sarah and trade in a blonde for a redhead.

  After the first hour, the bus had grown silent once they had noticed that they wouldn't be returning to the safety of their homes. Only their coughs, sniffles, and sneezing broke the silence. Ralph looked out the window and saw the almost-deserted interstate. It was empty of everything but yellow buses going the opposite direction and military vehicles at each exit and access. The general populace was denied access to the interstates and who knew what else. He wondered where they were being taken.