The Outbreak

"And I win again!" Rotis exclaimed, throwing his cards down onto the round wooden table. "You suckers, just hand over the cash now."

Skylar giggled beside him as she observed her boyfriend's triumph. Clearly she didn't care that she was losing.

"Pack the bong again. Playing card games with your brother is stressful." Kara laughed from beside me as she grabbed the sandwich baggy full of fluffy, light green stuff.

"Imagine having to live with him for half your life," I commented with a chuckle. "Probably why I'm crazy now."

Kara's been my girlfriend for years. We were high school sweethearts and when she headed off to college, I think she felt obligated to break up with me. Shortly after, she realized it was a mistake and I accepted her with open arms.

Her blue eyes have been my home for too long. I could never give her up.

"Bring in another round of shots!" Rotis called to Skylar as she walked toward the kitchen.

Skylar turned to flash Rotis a corrective stare.

He grinned sheepishly. "Please, babe."

After awhile, I threw down my cards and Rotis fell speechless. It was a good feeling, being able to win against the winner.

"I guess you're not as good as you thought you were." I laughed, glancing to Kara as she celebrated my win. She's always celebrated my wins. "Looks like we're going out to a fancy dinner for our anniversary, love."

12:01 a.m.

We finally decided to call it a night. After drinking and smoking for what seemed to be hours, Kara and I headed back to our hotel room. This was a lover's retreat that we made a double date with Rotis, my younger brother, and his girlfriend, Skylar. I now lay in bed with Kara as we sunk into the mattress and prepared for slumber.

"Rotis really seems like he's changing for the better," Kara spoke in a hushed, gentle tone. "I can't believe I'm saying this but it's not so bad being around him anymore."

"He's still the same asshole he's always been. Just more tolerable."

"I'm glad we got to spend this time together. Just been feeling — well, wrong since the threats. I'm scared that something is going to happen."

Awhile back, anonymous threats were leaked across the internet pertaining to some sort of virus that was just created and was apparently being manifested. The sources claimed that they had the power to spread the virus and it'd be like nothing we've seen before.

Then, people started randomly going missing. It was as if they disappeared out of plain sight and were just never seen again — like they never existed.

The news stations and government are convinced the instances aren't connected.

"C'mon, Kar," I reached over to put my arm around her. "None of those threats have any credibility behind them. It's just a fear tactic meant to scare people."

"Why though, Jake? Why would they want to scare us?" She inquired with a hiss. "It's a warning. It's not something that's meant to scare us."

I huffed. Kara would never see it my way. I knew this because she never does — even if I'm right, wrong, or somewhere in between, she finds a way to falsify my claim.

"Well, whatever happens, I'm here. We're together and that's what matters."

She rolled over to meet my gaze and leaned in to gently kiss my lips. As our tongues danced and our bodies clashed, my hands explored her body for the millionth time but the ecstasy between us never fades.

8:04 a.m.

When my eyes opened, I was being shaken by Kara. The tv positioned across the room was spewing warnings about staying indoors. I sat up and rubbed my eyes as I attempted to wake myself up.

"Jake, it's happening." She stated as she leaned forward on the edge of the bed, listening to the news intently. "They're saying people are getting really sick and they're dying."

"People get sick and die everyday, Kara."

"These people are coming back to life!" She argued, turning her panicked gaze to me. "They're coming back as violent monsters."

...we are now asking the public to stay indoors while we get this figured out. Ration appropriately and if you attempt to travel, be cautious of detours and infected people. The virus is spread by contact with infected person(s) who may attempt to injure and or bite...

"Oh my God," I commented as my eyes widened. "I have to go see if Rotis is alright."

I rushed over to the motel room 333. When I turned the doorknob, I realized it was unlocked and barreled through the doorway. I was met by Rotis — his hazel eyes held worry in them.

I spoke breathlessly. "Are you guys alright? Did you see the news?"

"Skylar isn't feeling well. Not at all," he sighed. "Last night she complained that the back of her eyes hurt. Don't even know what that means — but it got worse over night. News said not to travel so I've been tending to her since."

The back of her eyes hurt? What does that even mean?

"Listen, you have to stay away from her, Rotis. Call an ambulance and have them get her out of here — for your sake."

"What the fuck are you saying, man?" Rotis barked. "She's not dangerous, she's sick. It's not the virus that those pansies made up to scare us, it's the flu or something."

"What if that virus is real, Rotis?" I asked through clenched teeth. "That woman needs help."

I pulled the phone out of my pocket and dialed the numbers 9-1-1. To my surprise, I was met with a dial tone on the other end that implied the line was busy. I tried again and again but still got the same response.

What is going on? Why can't I call for help?

I rushed through the doorway of Kara and I's hotel room and found her out on the third floor balcony. She quickly bent down in shock and attempted to put out the cigarette she was so desperately tried to hide.

"It's okay. I'm having one too." I pulled out the black and red box that contained the cancer sticks. "How can we not, right?"

We both quit smoking some time ago but whenever things got hard, we always found ourselves bringing out the packs of cigarettes that we kept around just incase. We always assured each other that it was okay, that we had an excuse to relapse just once.

Maybe that's why we're meant to be together.

"You see the streets down there?" She pointed down to the once busy street below. "Hella accidents. Cops aren't even coming to help the drivers. Nobody even gets out of the cars to exchange insurance information."

I peaked down below. She was right.

There were multiple cars in a pile up with the drivers still inside. It seemed as if they still moved and flailed but didn't have the energy to open their doors and get out. No cops or ambulances were around to help them.

Where are the ambulances? The medics? The people who are supposed to be out here helping?

I observed as another suv came flying full speed in the direction of the pile up.

"Oh fuck! What are they doing?" Kara exclaimed.

The vehicle didn't stop. It dove right into the pile up. The woman in the passenger seat flung right through the windshield and onto the pavement. My jaw dropped in shock.

"Ma'am! Ma'am, do you need help?" I called from above as I stood on the balcony.

Instead of responding, she slowly and silently stood up. Blood was on the pavement and still leaked from her forehead. She didn't seem to mind, though, and cocked her head as I spoke. Her eyes didn't look like human eyes.

She had no irises, pupils, no soul — she didn't seem human anymore. Her arm was crooked and twisted up but she didn't scream in pain. In fact, she kept going as if she had been waiting to get rid of that arm her whole life. As if she didn't feel it.

She shuffled our way as she stared up at Kara and I. Blood flowed from her nose and down her chin, staining her neck and the light pink blouse she had on. When she finally made it, she began to reach up for us and groan escaped her blood coated lips.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" One of the hotel workers exited the building and approached her. "Just sit down and I'll go call for hel—"

His sentence fell short as she grabbed him and sank her teeth into the pale skin of his neck. Fresh blood immediately flowed from the wound as Kara and I both yelled in a plea to get her off of him.

She didn't listen. She tore him apart until he was barely recognizable and for some reason, I couldn't look away. I observed as she ripped him apart and ate his skin and muscles. Kara leaned over the balcony as she vomited onto the pavement feet below.

"What the fuck did we just witness, Jake?" Kara cried out as she fell to the ground. "That woman, she literally ate him! She was dead and she came back just to fulfill her cannibalism!"

"Shhh, Kara, it's alright." I reassured as I pulled her up from the ground and wrapped my arms around her.

I hoped that my eyes were playing tricks on me. That I didn't just witness a woman tear a young man apart and eat his insides. I can't think straight. Why am I shaking?

I have to try 9-1-1 again. The lines are still busy. What do we do?

The hotel worker now stood up, even with his organs hanging out of his torn open stomach. They swung as he slowly trudged toward the cop car, trailing behind the woman that just attacked him.

Kara and I called out for help until we ran out of breath. The cop slowly rolled down his window and I silently breathed a sigh of relief. He can help us.

Bang! Bang!

Headshot.

The woman and the hotel worker both fell to the ground once and for all. Blood flowed from their skulls and stained the concrete below them. The cop car skirted away and left both Kara and I on our knees in shock.

"Did he just — kill those two people?" Kara questioned through tears. "Instead of helping them, he shot them!"

I rushed into the hotel room to listen to the news. It's the only way we can keep tabs on what's going on.

...a state of emergency has been declared for the entire country. Do not attempt to reason with infected person(s) as they do not remember anything. Symptoms of the virus include vomiting blood, fever, stumbling, loss of control over movements and pain behind the eyes. Again, do not approach...

"No, no, no..." I shook my head in denial as I listened to the warnings. "This can't be happening. Those threats weren't real. They —"

...the anonymous threats state that the virus does not have a cure. It is possible that it's airborne and could be linked to a terrorist attack. The body shuts down for a short amount of time before coming back without sensory skills or rationality...

The door to our hotel room slammed and I turned to meet Rotis' gaze.

"Jake, Skylar isn't breathing."

_

11:11 a.m.

Everyone in the hotel is panicked. They're afraid to leave and the owner of the establishment is offering free water and food to the people who decide they don't want to try their luck on the roads.

Skylar hasn't moved in over an hour. Her breathing stopped and we've been trying to call for help but there is none. The hotel has an emergency staff but they informed us that many people were in the same predicament and we had to wait our turn.

How could they leave a dead woman on the couch? Rotis insists she's not dead — that maybe she's in some sort of coma, that her body is fighting off the virus. I think he's delusional.

But who isn't delusional in a situation such as this one?

"Skylar, my love, you have to wake up." Rotis spoke through a broken voice. "I know you're in there. You have to be."

"Rotis, don't stand too close. We don't know how this virus spreads —"

"Shut the fuck up, Jake!" He barked, standing up so he could come closer to me. "She's not going to turn into whatever the Hell you saw out there, okay? This virus and everything else is bullshit!"

"They've been warning us for weeks, Ro. It's not just a coincidence," I reasoned with him softly. "I know you don't want to accept it and neither would I —"

My sentence trailed off as I noticed that Skylar was now moving. Her breath didn't start back up but somehow her movement did.

"Skylar! Baby, you're alright!" Rotis exclaimed as he rushed over to her. "See, I knew you just needed a nap —"

She held her arms out in an attempt to reach for him. Just as he did the same, she turned her head and opened her mouth, revealing her teeth. As she leaned in, he jumped back.

"Sky, What the hell?"

She let out groans as she fell off of the couch face first. I backed away as she began to crawl toward Rotis, her irises and pupils now gone.

She's one of them now.

I picked up the lamp that sat feet away from me. I'd never hurt a woman but this isn't a woman anymore. I don't think it's even relatively human.

Whack!

The lamp smacked her in the head and the lightbulb shattered. Her face was caved in and bloody but she still growled and lunged at Rotis and I. I ran around the room as her eyes set on me, throwing everything I possibly could at her to slow her down. I grabbed a painting off of the wall and threw it at her.

"Fuck! Help!" I pled, hoping that anybody would hear my voice and help me out of the rough spot I've found myself in. "Please!"

Rotis barreled out of the kitchen with a knife and shoved it right into her back. She continued to come at us as if she was some merciless beast that can't stop until she finally catches her prey.

How did she get stabbed and keep going as if she didn't feel it whatsoever?

She turned to Rotis and I realized that we had a set of golf clubs near the door as we planned to go out and play some golf today. I pulled one out and approached Skylar from behind slowly.

Whack!

The blow to her head sent her down once and for all. When she fell to the carpeted ground, she ceased movement. Rotis and I both remained silent until moments passed and I felt as though I had to say something.

"I'm sorry, Rotis."

"You're sorry? I just had to beat my girlfriend down because she wanted to kill me! They'll never believe that she attacked me first, I'm going to go to jail —"

"That wasn't her. She got sick and died — then she came back with no memories of anything. She wanted to eat you alive."

"Well, she damn near did." He brushed himself off before rolling up his sleeve. "Definitely got a taste."

I turned my gaze to his arm and there it was.

A bite on his wrist.

1:27 p.m.

Skylar's body still lay on the ground. Rotis was beginning to sweat uncontrollably and he rocked back and forth as he muttered unintelligible things to himself. His eyes were sinking in and something deep down told me that we're running out of time.

"Here, drink some water." Kara offered a glass cup full of water to Rotis as he lay on the bed. "You have to drink plenty of fluids until help arrives."

Rotis chortled. "Help isn't coming."

"They're coming. It's just taking time because a lot of people are sick, okay?" She assured gently before patting his arm and standing up. "I'll be a room over if you need anything."

I followed her out of the room.

"Kara, we have to leave. We can't wait for help any longer."

"What do you think we're going to do? Did you see the city? The streets are jammed. We can't go anywhere."

"So what happens when everyone in this motel falls ill and we're stuck in middle of a bunch of —" I didn't even know what to call them. "Crazed people that want to eat us alive?"

She didn't respond.

"Skylar's body is cold on the floor and they have yet to come, Kara. They don't care and that much is obvious," I argued in a hushed tone to be sure not to alert Rotis. "We have to take him and try to get him to a hospital."

"What are we going to do? Carry him down there?"

"No. There's handicapped accessible rooms downstairs. I'll go see if I can find a wheelchair for him, then when I come back, we're leaving either way."

Slowly and carefully, I shuffled through the doorway and shut the door gently. The hallway had blood stained and smeared on the walls — it wasn't there before. Some rooms had people banging on the door from the other side but their words were inaudible. To be sure not to cause any commotion, I practically tip toed until I reached the handicapped rooms.

Once I entered the hallway, I met eyes with a man who didn't seem so friendly. In fact, he seemed to be the same way Skylar was when she got sick. His eyes had no color. Instead, they were cloudy and contained no pupils or irises. He shuffled my way and I attempted to speak to him.

"Sir, are you okay? What's wrong?"

He just let groans and growls escape his lips. That was my cue to run and not to turn back.

Looks like we'll have to carry Rotis.

I knocked violently on our hotel door until Kara answered. I thought she'd be disappointed when she realized I couldn't get a wheelchair but instead, her eyes were wide and tears trailed her flush cheeks.

"Jake, Rotis is gone."