The Awakened (4 page)

Madison ran forward and grabbed the arm of one of the friends. “Did she have a cupcake?”

The girl looked from Madison to me, looking shocked, but nodded. Madison threw me a triumphant look, and I resisted the urge to throw my shoe at her. We jumped back a moment later as she joined her friend in vomiting.

“This is a disaster,” Madison said again, her voice full of anger and disappointment.

I looked at Brody and saw that he was giving up as well. “Yeah, I think it’s time to cut the party.” I sighed and headed over to the DJ, taking the reins away from my disappointed friend.

Five Weeks Later

THAT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING
of people getting sick. Madison had been convinced for at least a week that the people getting sick at the fall dance were the results of a bad batch of cupcakes, food poisoning, or something having to do with the dance. As the sickness spread through the city, she finally relented and let the explanation of an early flu season take the blame for ruining her dance.

No one thought anything of it. It was October in New York. People get the flu; they take medicine, and they get over it. It was not a big deal. It was not rocket science: in a city of millions, germs spread easily and so did the flu season.

I guess it was hard to pinpoint the moment that the virus hit us, because we were so unaware of it. It started out just like your normal flu: fever, chills, vomiting. When it lasted more than a couple of days, people started going to doctors.

That’s when it got worse. That’s when we knew it was different.

It started affecting more people. Everyone went nuts, trying to get their hands on a flu vaccine, but they were running out, and it was becoming clear that it wasn’t just the flu. The flu didn’t turn your skin so pale that it was nearly blue or cause bright red sores that bled incessantly when they burst. The flu didn’t kill people, not like this, not this quickly.

Two kids died at St. Joseph’s within a few weeks of the virus, including one of the sick girls from the dance. Trent followed a week later. This was only the beginning.

“Zoey, I’ve been thinking…”

I paused in the middle of pouring milk into my cereal bowl. “Well, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Just hear me out,” my dad said, laying down his newspaper. I avoided looking at the headlines; they were just too depressing to look at. After seeing Trent’s obituary in the paper, it held no appeal to me. “People are getting sick all over the place, champ, and no one has really figured out what it is.”

“Dad…” I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was heading and I was also sure that I didn’t like its direction.

“And it’s not just New York anymore. There are cases of the virus all over the place: Los Angeles, Chicago, Philadelphia, Denver, Seattle, everywhere.”

I sat at the table, taking a bite of my cereal. “Dad, we’ve discussed this. I’m not dropping out of school. I’m not sitting at home, by myself, all the time.”

“It would just be a break,” he insisted. His hazel eyes met my own very different deep brown eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m already getting gun lessons,” I grumbled. “I’ve already learned every type of self-defense there is.” He gave me a look, one that clearly said I was acting like a brat. “I
am
safe. It’s not like it’s the black plague, Dad. People aren’t walking down the street with a wheelbarrow and piling bodies into it. We don’t have ring around the rosie or anything. I’m fine.”

He sighed, exasperated, and I knew that I was pushing my luck. He was genuinely worried about me and if the virus didn’t get under control soon, I’d be spending my days on the couch watching early afternoon talk shows. “Zoey Elizabeth, one of your friends has already died. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“You’re always trying to protect me. Hence the gun lessons,” I pointed out, thinking about the pamphlet about some boot camp he had slipped under my door a few weeks ago. It seemed to be the only class on this island that I hadn’t taken.

“Well, it’s my job.”

I gave him an ill-amused look and a small smile appeared on his lips. “It’s your job to protect everyone, Dad.”

“You’re the most important, champ,” he answered, then taking a sip of his coffee. He folded the newspaper back into place, with perfect creases, the way he always did before leaving for work.

“I’m not going to get sick,” I said, firmly.

He stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. “If it gets worse, you’re staying home.” He came over and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you after work.”

I waited until I heard him pull away before getting up. I washed my dishes, leaving them in the drying rack, and grabbed my coat from the front closet. I made sure the dog door was open and gave Bandit a kiss on the head before leaving.

Madison was waiting on the front stoop for me when I opened the front door. She was talking to Ash, using her hands to animate the story. I sighed, turning to lock the front door before turning back to them. “Madison!”

She looked up, a big smile on her small face. Everything about her was small. I wasn’t exactly tall at 5’4”, but I towered over her. “Hey, Zoey. You ready?”

I nodded, shifting my backpack so it lay comfortably between my shoulder blades. I walked down the steps, avoiding any eye contact with Ash. He had booby trapped my locker with glitter two days earlier, and I had walked around in my St. Joseph’s uniform the rest of the day looking like a fabulous Catholic school girl out of some weird anime movie. To say I was still a bit angry would have been a vast understatement.

We made it a few blocks in silence before Madison finally spoke. “Did you hear about Xavier Campos? He went to the hospital last night. He was already covered in sores, but I guess his mom didn’t want to take him. His dad snuck him out in the middle of the night.”

“Oh god,” I said, feeling sick. Xavier sat behind me in Algebra II, and I had known him since kindergarten. “How on earth did you find this out?”

“Victoria,” Madison said, referring to Xavier’s girlfriend. “She texted him this morning and his brother told her. He’s sick as well, but not as bad.”

“Oh god,” I repeated. “No one tell my dad. He really wants me to stay home.”

“I don’t know, Zoey,” Madison said, looking worried as we slushed through the gray puddles along the sidewalk. It was already turning into a gloomy winter. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. People are getting sick everywhere.”

“Not you too,” I groaned, stopping for a moment to pull up one of my knee socks. “We aren’t getting sick. There’s no need for everyone to get so panicky.”

“If you get sick, Z, I could take care of you.”

I jumped, looking over my shoulder at Ash. “Geez. You’re still here?”

“We do attend the same school,” he pointed out, a big grin on his face. His hair was windswept, and his cheeks had turned red from the cold, making his blue eyes stand out even more. “And take the same subway.”

“Go away, Ash,” I said, giving him a withering look before turning back around.

As usual, he ignored me. He fell into step next to me, forcing Madison to walk in front of us. She tossed an amused look over her shoulder but kept walking. Ash was Brody’s best friend, and Madison had been convinced for months, years even, that Ash and I would work out and the four of us would live happily ever after. Not likely. Not in this world.

“I would take care of you if you were sick. I’d fluff your pillows and tuck you in and make you chicken soup and read you a bedtime story.” He grabbed my hand held it to his chest. I tried very hard to ignore the hard muscles I could feel even through his coat. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll even give you a sponge bath.”

“You’re disgusting,” I answered, trying to pull my hand back. He held fast, grinning at me.

“Ash!”

The two of us turned and saw Heather Carr, Ash’s girlfriend, standing over at the entrance to the subway, their usual meeting spot. She had her arms folded tight across her chest, looking angry. Ash dropped my hand like it was on fire and strode over to her, where she immediately started speaking heatedly to him.

Madison came back to stand next to me, looking at the couple arguing. Heather looked angry, her posture tense, while Ash had his hands shoved in his pockets, unconcerned and bored. “Can you please just make out with him already? The tension is too much for even me to handle.”

“Really, Madison? I’m not putting my mouth anywhere near his. Especially since it’s been on
hers
,” I said, nodding my head in Heather’s direction.

“Just think, Zoey,” she said, as we snuck past them and down the stairs. “If you dated Ash, you could totally be prom queen.”

“I thought you wanted to be prom queen,” I said, raising my eyebrow at her.

She thought about it for a moment, her nose wrinkled in concentration. “Okay, maybe just the prom court then.” I laughed, and she smiled mischievously at me.

I COULDN’T SLEEP.

It was hot in my room, stifling. I tossed and turned for hours before finally pushing the covers aside and walking across my room to my window. I pushed it open, letting the air fill my room. Bandit looked up from his corner of the room with one sleepy eye open. Once he had determined that I was okay and safe, he closed his eye again, and his soft dog snores filled the room.

I took a deep breath and sat on my window seat for a moment, enjoying the breeze on my sweat covered body. I realized how dry my throat was, and I made my way downstairs to get something to drink.

I had barely opened a bottle of water when I heard a crash upstairs. I shrieked, and water went everywhere, including down my shirt. I waited, and heard more movement upstairs. The clock on the oven read 2:52, and I furrowed my brow, confused. What on earth was my dad doing up at this time?

I waited for a few moments at the bottom of the stairs before calling out, “Dad?”

He came rushing down the stairs, his shirt on inside out. He looked frazzled and stressed out; he hadn’t even bothered to comb his hair. “Zoey? Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “What’s going on? Why aren’t
you
in bed?”

“There’s been a homicide down at the morgue,” he said, rushing past me to grab his coat and scarf from the closet.

“At the morgue?” I asked, confused. “But isn’t everyone there already…” I didn’t finish the thought.

“Dead? Mostly. They brought in a bunch of doctors from the CDC to examine the bodies of those dying from the virus. They’re dying too fast to be tested while alive.”

“Okay…” I said, unsure of why he was telling me this or how this could possibly be important.

He looked at me.  “The three doctors at the morgue are dead.”

“Oh my god,” I said, horrified. “Why? Why would that even happen? Aren’t they there to fix the problem?”

He sighed. “Well, we’re going to try and find out.” He opened the front door, but paused before leaving. “Don’t wait up for me. And Zoey? Stay home from school today, okay?”

“Dad,” I started to protest.

He had a pained expression on his face. “Please, for me.”

I swallowed hard, and nodded. “Okay.”

“See if you can convince Madison to stay home as well. I’ll be home later.” Then he was gone.

I cleaned up the water in the kitchen before heading back upstairs. I typed out a quick message to Madison, urging her to stay home from school at the request of my dad. I hesitated for a moment, before sending another to Ash. I tossed my phone to the side before I could regret my momentary lapse of judgment and crawled back into bed, no longer feeling warm.

I woke later, feeling even more exhausted than I had felt earlier. I yawned widely and reached for the remote sitting on top of a crumbled bag of Doritos on my nightstand. Hoping to see something about the murders at the morgue, I flipped on the TV and found a channel showing the local news.

Instead I found what seemed to be the beginning of a press conference. The headline at the bottom of the screen read “Head of CDC to Address Concerns about Virus,” and an empty podium, presumably waiting for the head of the CDC, was the focus of attention. I turned up the volume, eager to find out more about the virus that was sweeping through our country like a tornado.

The woman representing the CDC came on the screen and immediately there was a hushed tone, as she approached the podium. She shuffled a few papers and smiled at the crowd of reporters in front of her. Her name flashed quickly across the bottom of the screen: Razi Cylon.

“Good morning everyone,” she began, her clipped British accent obvious right off the bat. There was also a little something else there, perhaps Indian. “My name is Razi Cylon and I’m a representative of the CDC. I have been very close to the work and study that we have been doing on this virus. As of right now, we know very little. The symptoms seem to be similar of what we know of the routine stomach flu: fever, chills, vomiting. However, the symptoms, as we have found out, tend to worsen and lead to the loss of blood, through vomiting or urination and the red sores that break out across the body. We are working hard to determine how the virus is transmitted. It is becoming more likely, as days pass, that it is not airborne. However, only with more time and more study will we begin to understand the nature of this.