Authors: A. Rosaria
Tags: #novel, #zombie, #pandemic, #survival, #flu, #fast paced, #zombie apocalypse, #horror survival, #dead quarantine
By A.Rosaria
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 by Alex Rosaria
This e-book is a work of fiction. The names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be
construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
actual events, locales or organizations is entirely
coincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book
may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission from the author.
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CHAPTER ONE
The shrill ringing of Ralph’s old-fashioned wind
up alarm clock echoed inside his still groggy head
. He
banged his arm sideways against the nightstand. He flailed his arm
in the air, hitting the stand again, and patted the surface,
searching for the clock. Growing frustrated with the incessant
ringing, Ralph groaned and muttered words that were better left
unheard. He swiped the clock from the nightstand. This early in the
morning, and with the ringing still going on in his head, it was
difficult for him to form any coherent thought let alone utter
anything remotely sensible.
He lay in bed for a long while, staring at
the ceiling. Slowly, it dawned on him that it was Monday. God, why
did he set the alarm to go off so early? Why had he set it anyway?
Of all days, today was the day it would have been great if he had
overslept and missed school. He shook his head, grunted, and sat up
straight. His eyes still fuzzy, he looked for the clock. It had
landed near the front leg of the bed. He put it back on the
nightstand. It was just past six.
No, oversleeping wouldn't have kept him from
school. Mom knew he had a test today. She would have kicked him out
of bed and lectured him about not slacking off because it was his
senior year. Heck, he didn't even know what he wanted do after he
graduated. He should figure that out first, before worrying about
grades. Not that his grades were that bad, thank you very much, for
his unduly efforts the previous year.
With his father on a business trip, his
ten-year-old sister, Ginny, still snoring on her bed, and his
mother usually waking up at around seven, he had the bathroom to
himself. Nice, dry, and clean, not so much after he was done
showering. At seven, mom would come downstairs to make his
breakfast and after breakfast she would go upstairs to get Ginny
ready for school. That one had more trouble waking up than him. If
you allowed her to sleep in, Ginny would sleep all day and the next
one. Both their parents were punctual beings, so he wasn't sure
where she got it from. His mom had a biological clock that went off
at exactly the same time every day without fail. It beat waking up
scared shitless by a ringing alarm clock.
At six thirty, Ralph sat at the kitchen
table freshly showered, wearing jeans and a black long sleeve
shirt. He was reading a comic book. Sure, he should be studying for
his history exam, but why bother studying now? He hadn’t done
anything in the days leading up to the exam. Cramming just before
having to leave for school would amount to nothing.
Mom had been sneezing last night. She had
probably picked up the much-talked-about flu. Was it even flu
season? He wasn't sure if his mom would be able to drive him to
school today. He had not heard her wake up. He might have to go on
his bike. Or maybe he should ditch classes today. There was no
sense taking a test you knew you were going to fail. It was too bad
that he couldn’t ditch this exam; the school administration would
tell his parents and probably fail him on the test, making it more
difficult for him to graduate on time. With everything going on,
like not knowing what to do after graduation, he really didn't want
to also have to deal with grades and stuff. Life was already
difficult. His second semester didn't need any drama. He sighed and
grabbed his history book. It was a thick book, a very thick book,
one without many pictures. He should read a chapter, then maybe he
could manage a grade better than an F, and he might get a second
chance if he tried hard enough.
He heard stumbling on the stairs. He glanced
at the clock. Five minutes before seven. She did it again. Even
having a cold did not stop her from waking up on time. He doubted
that even death would stop her. She came downstairs, coughing.
“Good morning,” he called out.
His mother lumbered up to him. “Not much
good this morning. I see you got up early.”
She looked pale. Strands of long black hair
were plastered to her forehead and cheeks. Thick cushion grooves
etched her face and a swatch of black was smudged under her eyes.
She looked like crap.
“You look nice, Mom.”
She plopped down in the chair opposite to
him.
“Finally you decide to study?” She pointed
at his comic next to his history book. Her voice was raspy.
“You don't look so good.”
She smiled. Her smile was like sunshine in
bad weather. It made everything look better than it was; it made
her radiate in a way that he could not help but smile back. He
loved how his mother could smile and laugh despite obviously
feeling like crap.
“But Ralphie, didn't you say I looked nice
just a moment ago?”
He hated to be called Ralphie. He only
tolerated it when she called him that. “I lied.”
“Not nice lying to your sick mother.”
She laughed. A burst of coughing cut her
laugh short. He ran to the sink and brought her a glass of water.
Worried, he watched her take the glass from him. He had never seen
his mother ill; she always seemed to be healthy even when they all
were down with something. She never got sick. So, to see her with a
cold this bad was a little disconcerting.
“Seriously, are you feeling all right? I'll
stay home if you need me to; it's not a problem, really it's
not.”
It wasn't only so that he could skip his
test that he offered to stay home; it genuinely worried him the
state she was in. Maybe it would be better if she rested instead of
driving him to school.
She swallowed the water in one go, put the
glass on the table, and looked up at him with tired eyes. “It's
just a cold.”
“But—”
“And in no way are you going to get a free
pass on that history exam of yours.”
She saw right through him not wanting to
take that test, but she did look awfully pale. “It's not about that
at all. I want you to take a day off and rest. I could call the
school and tell them that I'll be late and I can take Ginny to
school for you. My test is this afternoon; I won't miss it if that
is what you are worried about.”
“No need to take Ginny to school today. She
is staying in with me.” She sighed. “I shouldn't have kissed her
goodnight. Now, she has whatever I caught.” She touched his cheek
with the tip of her fingers and tapped. “You're a good boy. Don't
fret; it's just a cold. There is no reason for you to go out of
your way and bicycle to school. I'll drive you.”
She raised a hand, stopping him from saying
anything. “Really, it's just in and out the car for me, not that
big a deal. You just try to get some studying done before going to
school. You only got fifteen minutes left; make the best of
it.”
She left him sitting at the table and
waggled to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast for them. He
looked guiltily at her as she went to work on the bread and tea,
wishing she would only let him take care of things just for
today.
Stubborn as she was, she wouldn't even let
him get out of taking this exam even when he needed to. Knowing
her, nothing he said or did would convince her otherwise. It would
likely take her being bedridden before she allowed him to take care
of her. Mothers. However, that was the way they were, all caring
and self sacrificing. He shook his head while he opened his history
book and leafed through it. The words swam in front of him. He
closed the book and shoved it aside.
“I'm going to look in on Ginny.”
Before his mom could react and call him back
to keep studying, he flew up the stairs. Ginny's room was next to
his. He was about to open the door when he remembered that she now
liked her privacy. It wasn’t strange, considering she was growing
up into a little woman. He knocked.
“Ginny, it's me, your favorite brother.”
A faint grunt was all the answer he got. He
took that as a yes and entered her room. Her four walls were
plastered with goofy looking guys and snappy looking girls. Stars
from whatever kids’ shows played now days on television. Not his
thing, by far not his thing.
Ginny held her bed sheet to her chin. Snot
ran from her nose. She turned her head toward him. She wiped her
nose with the back of her hand and rubbed it off against her bed
linen. Ralph made a mental note not to sit on the bed. At least she
looked better than mom did, not pale, no dark patches under her
eyes, only a runny nose. Was she trying to skip school and
succeeding where he failed?
“Hey, sis, how are you feeling?”
“I guess I'm all right. I'm allowed to stay
home today and sleep in.”
She quickly shut her eyes and started
snoring hard. He poked her side and tickled her. She giggled,
pushing herself away. “Stop, stop, Ralph, I can't take it
anymore.”
He kept at it until she started begging and
choking on her laughter. She tried pushing him off. Her face
started turning tomato red and she sneezed. As droplets hit his
face, he recoiled. “Eeuw, that's gross.”
So much for staying bug free. He was all
over her, tickling her and forgetting that her bed and she were a
germ-infested war zone. These germs were now marching inside him,
preparing to kick his ass. Maybe he could stay home now, seeing as
how he was sure that he would be ill by the end of the day. Nah,
with his luck, it would linger and he'd get sick late Friday—just
in time to spoil his weekend.
“Now I'm going to get ill, you little
meanie.”
“Serves you right, harassing your poor,
little, sick sister.”
“You are not little; you're growing like a
tree. I saw your piggy bank too; that thing is bursting with dough.
You are an overgrown rich kid.”
She slapped his shoulder. “You’re so
mean.”
He rubbed her hair. “No, I'm not. I love my
little sis.”
She looked wide-eyed at him. He was not
known to voice how he felt very well. If he thought about it, this
was the first time he had said he loved her in a long time. He
always thought it was obvious. He liked being around her. How many
big brothers bothered with their sisters? He didn’t know any that
did.
“Aahh, Ralph.” She got teary eyed. “I love
you too.”
Okay, now it was getting uncomfortable. Too
mushy for him. He remembered why he preferred to keep things to
himself. Seeing her under her bed sheet like that, all fragile,
I love you
just slipped out. He did love his sister, his
mother, and his dad, who he didn't see that often. They would go
hunting this fall, and just like last time, he hoped it would be a
blast.
Ginny pulled the sheets away and got out of
bed. “I’m going to tell mom.”
She ran for the door. He grabbed her before
she could run away. “Oh no you won't.”
“Yes I will,” she said mockingly.