The Lost Journal (A Secret Apocalypse Story) (13 page)

Dammit Drake. He had it all figured out. Maybe being on death’s door made it easier for him to see the grim reality of it. Maybe I knew it all along as well. Maybe I was just too scared to admit it, to say it out loud.

The other day when Franco was bitten, I looked to the east and thought of running away. Maybe I still could. Maybe. If I got out of this slum alive, if we survived the air strike I could get out of here. I could warn Rebecca before it’s too late.

"Yeah that’s a great plan. Again, not that you’re going to get out of this slum alive, but let’s just say hypothetically you do make it out of here. Where are you going to go? How are you going to survive? You’ll end up infected. Just like me. Just like these poor refugees. Oh, you think you’ll run away? Run all the way to Sydney and warn Rebecca? How are you going to do that? How are you going to make it that far? Have you thought this through at all? And what is she going say to you when you get there? You think she’s going to welcome you in with open arms and give you a big hug? You’re a goner. You should never have joined the marines. You’re not a warrior. You never will be. You’re a coward. A lying coward. Not that it matters anymore what you are. Because in a couple of minutes you’re a dead man. Just like me. Just like the rest of us."

"Shut up, Drake."

At that moment the Humvee ran over a pothole or a ditch or maybe even a crowd of people and my ass momentarily left the seat. Maybe it was the first missiles of the air strike.

I don’t know what it was.

But the ride was a bumpy one. The speed the Humvee was travelling at was not safe for the narrow laneways.

The Humvee swerved and I was thrown back in my seat. The tires screeched and the brakes locked up. The Humvee spun out of control and I lost all sense of direction. Left or right, up or down. I had no idea what was happening. I didn’t know where I was. The only thing I knew for certain was that Drake was shot, bitten, bleeding. He was dying right in front of me but he was one hundred percent right about everything.

January 27th – Escape.

I woke up in a hospital bed. I was alone. There were five other beds in the room but they were all empty. The white sheets were all covered in blood.

No sign of Drake.

No sign of the pilots.

The one and only window of the room was open slightly. It was dawn. The first rays of sunshine were just appearing over the horizon.

I wondered where they were keeping Drake.

I went to get out of my bed but then I noticed both my right leg and my right arm were bound to the rail guard with Velcro straps. My left leg and wrist were not tied down.

I untied myself quickly and jumped out of bed. My head was throbbing and I was dizzy. I slowly made my way out into the corridor, using the walls for support.

I expected the hospital to be full. I was expecting to see nurses and doctors and patients everywhere.

But there was no one.

The hospital was deserted.

I checked a few other rooms and saw the same thing each time. Empty beds. Blood stained sheets.

But the last room I checked was different. The last room still had bodies in the beds.

Civilians.

They were all dead. Bullet holes in their heads.

The room stank of death. I felt dizzy again. I doubled over and threw up. I fell to my knees and crawled out of the room.

At the far end of the corridor was a team of guys in bright yellow HAZMAT suits. They were coming this way.

They were armed.

It dawned on me then that these guys weren’t regular soldiers. They weren’t U.S. Marines or Rangers or Special Forces. And there’s no way they were part of the Australian Army.

There was something about them. Their weapons were different. Their radios were different. Even their HAZMAT suits were slightly different. They looked more advanced, less bulky, more mobile.

It was clear to me then. These guys were powerful.

And deadly.

And they were doing the dirty work of whoever was in charge of this mess.

I had no idea who that might be, still have no idea. But I sure as hell wasn’t hanging around to find out.

I stayed low and crawled around the corner of the hallway. Once I was out of sight, I bolted. I did not look back.

I made it to the main entrance of the hospital. To my surprise the news van we had seen the other day was parked directly out front. The hood of the van had been smashed in like it had been in a pretty serious accident.

The satellite dish on top of the roof had been shot to pieces.

All the tyres had been shot out.
Bullets
holes streaked down the side of the van.

I heard gunshots coming from back
inside
the hospital. The noise scared the hell out of me, sent a cold shiver down my spine, forced me to keep running.

I’ve been running for days now.

I had to get out of their while I still could. We had lost control. The immigration
centers
, the town. Everything. The people in the towns weren’t so much under quarantine as they were prisoners.

Prisoners on death row.

I have no doubt that Command were about to order a nuclear strike.

As Gordon said, sacrifice the few to save the many.

It doesn’t matter if those people are innocent. Doesn’t matter if they’re healthy. Command weren’t prepared to take that risk.

And it makes me sick to my stomach.

Their top priority is to contain the virus by any means necessary. Nuclear strikes included. And I wanted nothing to do with it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

No way.

So I’m leaving. I’m running away.

Again.

Yeah I know.

I must be crazy. I could get court marshalled for this. They could lock me up and throw away the key.

Damn. I’ve got to stop running away. But I’ve got no other option.

This virus is out of control. And if spreads. If it gets out...

I need to warn Rebecca. I can’t stop thinking about her.

What’s that saying? ‘Fortune favors the bold’ or something? Well, I hope fortune favors the crazy. Because what I am doing right now is downright insane. There’s every chance that I’ll be caught.

There’s every chance they’ll shoot me dead and bury me out in the desert.

The virus was spreading faster than they could contain it.

How long before it reaches the next town over? Or the next city? Will the Apache gunships get all of the infected? Will the containment crews be able to chase them all down?

I don't think so. The Australian outback is huge. There's no way.

And that thought terrifies me.

So I’ve got to warn Rebecca.

She's here somewhere. My parents said she had moved to Sydney. That was over a year ago. I have no idea if she's still there. I don't even know her address.

But this is my decision. To hell with the consequences.

I’m on the run. I’m alone. I’m hungry. I’m dehydrated and scared.

But I have to try. I have to warn her.

Rebecca, I am coming for you.

OUT NOW

The Secret Apocalypse (Book 1)

Extinction Level (Book 2)

Where The Dead Men Lie (Book 3)

The Lost Journal Part 2

COMING SOON

TORN APART

BOOK 4 IN THE SECRET APOCALYPSE SERIES

Also Coming Soon

Test Subject Zero

For more info visit
http://jamesharden.blogspot.com/

Copyright © 2011 by James Harden

This 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 the written permission of the author.