Necrophobia - 01 Page 23

  Sarah considered this, “Ah, but what about Shrek being so strong though? Oh and he can kill fish with just a fart. So I think Shrek.”

  By the time that Sarah was ten, Steve began to feel redundant. She was more interested in spending time with friends, experimenting with makeup and playing on computers. He sometimes found himself having to bribe her with days out, just to spend time with her. Regardless, he would always be there for her.

  Around that time, the world went to shit. After the terrorist attacks at the 2012 Olympics in London which had killed thousands, war seemed to break out on every continent.

  Steve could only look on as the world seemed to fall apart. He continued to go to work every day at the warehouse as he had done for the last five years. He was a foreman now, and on pretty good money. He had accepted his lot in life and felt content, but he was starting to grow concerned with the way the world was going, more for Sarah’s sake than his own.

  All the while, he kept an interested ear to the radio while at work, buying the day’s paper on his way in, then watching the news once he was home again in the evening to catch up.

  Very little information was coming out of Africa and South America, most of the news seemed to be centred round the numerous wars throughout the world and particularly, the events unfolding in the Middle and Far East. But still, it was strange that a virus that had the ability to kill hundreds of thousands was being kept on the sidelines. His old rebellious, anti-government feelings began to rise up inside him again. He knew all there was to know about the fighting in Iran, Iraq and the rest of the Middle East as well as Russia and Korea, so he started to scour the internet for more details on Africa.

  No news websites were giving any more information than what he already knew. A flu virus had broken out, spread by contact with infected people, similar to the Swine Flu pandemic of the year before when it re-emerged after the initial outbreak in 2009, but the African virus was even more aggressive. Whole villages and towns had died and many cities were becoming huge tombs.

  But there was nothing about treatment, suspected origin or what the world was doing about it. Was there any plan to contain it, other than blowing people out of the water as they fled? Who, if anyone, was studying it and breaking down its genetic code in order to find a cure?

  He spent a whole evening searching, but to no avail. It wasn’t until the next day at work, during a break as he sat chatting to one of his shift bosses, he brought the subject up.

  “Nah mate, you should look on the likes of ‘youtube’ instead. I’ve seen loads of mobile phone camera footage and personal blogs and reports from eye witnesses, and people are going apeshit over it.”

  Steve rubbed his head in sudden realisation of his stupidity, “Fuck sake, why didn’t I think of looking on them kind of sites?”

  That evening, he could only look on in horror at the images and personal accounts of the people who had witnessed the effects of the virus firsthand. Piles of bodies could be seen as town authorities tried their best to control the situation. Men in white suits and masks setting fire to mass graves, before filling them in with bulldozers. Makeshift hospitals with the dead and the dying, crowds of infected people staggering around, wailing for help, coughing and vomiting while they lay waiting for the end as nurses and doctors wearing masks, did what they could to ease their final hours.

  Steve read on and learned that, according to the stories on the internet, 60% of the population were naturally immune, and of the remaining 40%, more than half of them developed nothing more than cold like symptoms. Steve felt confused, so why are there so many bodies? Why the mass graves being burned? Why the hospitals packed to the brim?

  It was obvious that there was, to a degree, a media blackout. Either no one was interested, or, more than likely as far as Steve was concerned, the powers that be had put injunctions on the different news stations to stop them reporting and showing too much. But no one could stop the internet upload. Even if the sites were closed down, others would always take their place.

  According to what was being said by the majority, some of the infected would at first become sick, then after a couple of days turn violent and attack anyone they saw, except other infected people. This caused Steve to lean back for a moment and try to understand why people with flu would attack others. Something bothered him, more than just the fact that the world was at war and a virus was on the loose. He couldn’t shake his sense of foreboding.

  He stood up and walked to his kitchen. He had no particular need of anything; he just needed to get away from his computer to give his eyes a break. He flicked on the kettle with the intent of making himself a cup of coffee, and then decided he would get a cold beer out of the fridge instead and returned to his computer.

  He read and sifted through more write-ups and personal accounts, until he came across what he presumed to be a kind of, ‘below the radar’ freelance news blog that someone had decided to upload themselves, rather than it be taken and kept under wraps by the networks. What he read gripped him, horrified him and made him shake his head and dismiss it, all at the same time.

  David Newcomb,

  13/05/2015,

  Sierra Leone, Freetown,

  Two days ago the Sierra Leone government declared a country-wide curfew with the army patrolling the streets to enforce it. Anyone caught outside their homes, AT ANY TIME for ANY REASON will be dealt with as looters, rioters and rebels. From my hotel window, I have seen people being executed as patrols have caught them in the streets.

  Regardless of what the reason, or need, for venturing outside, the curfew is final in the eyes of the totalitarian government. Whether you need food or if a family member is sick or even to collect water, you are not to leave your homes.

  I have seen a lot of bodies lying in the streets of so called looters and rebels, summarily executed by the soldiers and left in the gutter before the clean up teams come along and collect them. People are sick, starving and the flu is breaking out more rapidly and becoming more widespread. Our hotel has no running water and we have to try and keep clean with bottled water. The toilets don’t work, and we have to use buckets which we then take into the hotel garden in the morning and dump the contents in a pit, which is then burned. Thankfully we still have electricity, but for how long we do not know. It’s only a matter of time until everyone in the hotel becomes sick.

  I dare not even think about trying to get to the airport or the embassy. Whether you are local or foreign to this country, the same rule applies and I fear I would be shot the minute I leave the hotel.

  Trucks full of government soldiers patrol the streets night and day. This morning, I watched as a small group of people, who must have been sick, or so hungry that they could hardly lift their feet, staggering along the street towards the hotel. A patrol approached, and as the people moved towards the truck and raised their hands to beg for help, the soldiers gunned them down. Afterward, the troops dismounted from their vehicle and moved from body to body, shooting them in the head. Twenty minutes later, another patrol came and removed the bodies.

  Before the curfew I was able to travel throughout the villages and report and collect stories on the epidemic and the effect it is having here. During that time I learned that many of the locals have begun to call the flu ‘The Walking Death’. When I asked why they called it this, the answers made no sense. A tribal medicine man told me that death is now walking amongst us and that the age of man is at an end.

  A mother with two young babies clinging to her told me that her husband had died two days earlier and that the doctors had taken him to the hospital. That night she was told by a friend that they had seen her husband chasing a dog in her village on the outskirts of Freetown.

  A man told me that his sister died that morning, and in the evening when they were preparing her for burial, she opened her eyes and sat up, causing everyone in the room to panic and flee. He told me how he watched her from a distance, as she emerged from their home, and devoured a live chick
en that she took from the pen at the side of their house.

  Mothers attacking children, husbands attacking wives, friends attacking each other, whatever the reason, it seems that Freetown is about to go under.

  Stories of curses and voodoo style rituals being performed on the sick and dying are rife. No one knows what is really going on, and no information or help is coming from the authorities.

  15/05/2015,

  Freetown has been abandoned by the government and the troops. Crowds of sick people are swarming the streets and many of them have crowded around our hotel. The stench of the crowd is sickening, even with all the windows closed I can still smell them. Swarms of flies and other insects are surrounding them, and the sickly sweet smell of putrefaction is everywhere.

  It’s almost as if they are rotting while still alive.

  They are banging against the doors day and night, but there is nothing we can do to help them. All of the ground floor windows have been smashed in their attempt to gain entry and we have had to barricade ourselves inside. They are behaving extremely aggressively and even attacking each other to get closer to the doors in the hope of getting help first.

  Everyone has taken to wearing surgical masks, to help with the smell and hopefully to stop us from catching the flu; more like Plague. We have decided to keep away from the windows, due to the fact that the sight of us seems to excite them in the hope of receiving some kind of help from us.

  At first we pleaded with them, that we had no supplies and that we couldn’t do anything for them, but that just seemed to fuel their anger and they doubled their efforts to get inside.

  I fear that it’s only a matter of time until they break through the barricades and then we will become infected, either that, or we starve to death.....

  Steve rubbed his eyes. He was starting to get a headache, and filling his head full of silly stories from the internet wasn’t helping him. He clicked to another site and continued to flick through stories, reports and blogs.

  Speculation was rife. Theories were all over the internet on what was causing it and what was being done about it. All that Steve could understand was that there was no cure or vaccine for the virus.

  One group believed that the virus came from a pesticide that had then caused the common flu virus to mutate. They claimed that the pesticide was genetically engineered by the Americans to aggressively hunt down and kill mosquitoes and their larvae. They had then released it in the tropical areas of South America and Africa and once it came in contact with the flu virus, it caused a mutation, making the violent flu symptoms in some of the sick.

  Another group took a similar stance, but with a cosmic twist. They believed that the common flu virus had been mutated by gamma radiation from a faraway supernova on the other side of the galaxy. When some scientists and enthusiasts challenged them on this, they were unable to produce any solid evidence of a supernova having recently been witnessed and the scientists discredited them outright. It occurred to Steve though, it’s a big arse sky and not all of it can be watched at the same time. Any theory is as good as another.

  On the 21st December 2013, not long after the invasion of Iran, a probe that had been kept secret until then, returned to Earth after having landed on and taken samples from Europa; one of Jupiter’s many moons. Why they kept it secret until its return was anyone’s guess, but some believed that it was because Europa is said to be the strongest chance of being a life sustaining planet in the Solar System other than our own. The probe had drilled its way through fifteen kilometres of ice to a liquid water ocean beneath its hard frozen surface. Then, on completion of its mission it had returned to Earth. People were now speculating that it had brought something back in the samples.

  All manner of reasons were being thrown about, including, as to be expected, the religious versions. Some believed that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had arrived, Pestilence, War, Famine and that the final one, Death, was the Anti-Christ in the form of the new American President, who came appearing as a saviour and a man of righteousness.

  Since the beginning of the millennium, the world seemed to have been steadily falling apart. Aside from all the wars, there were the natural disasters. There were droughts, famine, disease and earthquake after earthquake.

  The tsunami of December 26th 2004 that originated from the Indian Ocean killed more than a quarter of a million people, and it was closely followed by Hurricane Katrina that came up from the Gulf of Mexico and laid waste to much of Louisiana, particularly New Orleans. Each year was followed with more storms and earthquakes, Haiti, New Zealand and Japan. Japan was hit by an earthquake that measured 9.0 on the seismograph and was closely followed by a tsunami that devastated much of its eastern coast. After that, the Japanese Nuclear Reactors began to fail up and down the country as their cooling systems were ruptured and the reactors overheated. A huge ecological crisis broke out, with thousands of brave workers dying from radiation sickness as they laboured to bring the core temperatures down to a stable level.

  Steve raised his eyebrows and exhaled loudly. They all seemed as good an explanation as the next in his eyes. Though he had never been religious, it did seem like the Apocalypse was at hand and the Day of Judgement was on its way. Disease was sweeping the globe, war was being fought all over the world, whole countries were slowly starving, devastating earthquakes had been a regular occurrence over the last decade and, he had always thought that the American President was a twat.

  Two weeks later, the news broke. The flu epidemic was set to become a pandemic. Cases had been diagnosed all over the northern hemisphere including Moscow, New York, Berlin, Paris, the Middle East and even London. A lid couldn’t be kept on it any longer. But it was clear that the authorities wanted to minimise the damage, so they released only what information they thought necessary.

  Details were sketchy. It was still claimed that the majority of the population would be naturally immune and that with advanced medicines and hospitals being what they were in the likes of America and Europe, the chances of surviving were much higher and that there would be fewer deaths. However, all precautions were being taken and anyone with symptoms was to go to the nearest hospital.

  News reports began to acknowledge the flu problem in Africa and South America. Footage of deserted villages and towns were shown, with the reporters wearing protective suits and surrounded with armed protection. Clean-up teams were filmed using flame throwers on mass graves and news reels of helicopters dropping supplies to Red Cross refugee camps, giving the impression that the rest of the world was starting to give a shit. The overall impression that the news channels gave was that bad as the flu was, it was nothing to worry about given the right attention and treatment.

  Smiling faces of people recovering from the flu and children sitting with their parents in the refugee camps eating in tents were plastered over every report. It was said that the death toll was nowhere near as high as first suspected, and that most of the sick were making a recovery.

  Even though Steve had read and seen numerous reports and photographs on the internet, he found himself feeling pretty calm about it. Africa and South America had always struggled with disease. The environment and lack of money didn’t help, but here, in the first world it could be dealt with and controlled much easier. Sarah had had her flu jabs, and he himself only very rarely got ill, and even then it was nothing more than a runny nose. He put his initial concerns down to the shock created by the sudden rush of information, stories, speculation and rumours available once he found the right websites. Reading people’s theories had only brought back his deep, and in his eyes, immature and naive suspicion that everything was a cover up or conspiracy. He had to remind himself that he was a grown up now, that Area-51 didn’t exist and that 9/11 was Al-Qaeda and not the C.I.A.

  While having an after work drink in his local pub, he heard the strangest theory. The news on the TV in the corner of the room was covering a story on the spread of the flu virus in Europe and North America.
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br />   A clearly drunken man stood by the bar, one hand holding a stool to steady him. Slurring his words, he announced, “I’ll tell you what folks,” he raised his other hand as if to silence everyone in order to put the world to rights for all to hear, “I reckon that this disease shit is pretty bad.”

  Steve continued to slowly sip at his Jack and Coke. He caught the attention of the barmaid as she rolled her eyes. He grinned at her, knowing that she was thinking the same thing.

  “John, give it a rest will you,” she moaned, “We’re sick of your theories on everything that happens in the world. Like when there was a documentary on JFK, you came in gobbing off about how he and Elvis were assassinated by the Norwegians.”

  “They were!” The expression in his face told everyone that he was completely convinced of it. Steve resisted the urge to ask him how he came to that conclusion for fear of scowls and hoots aimed in his direction from the rest of the people in the bar.

  “Anyway,” the drunk continued, “I reckon that a star blew up and made that probe thingy turn radioactive, then when it crashed back down, it mutated the mosquito killing thing, uh....pesticu...testicular....parsit...uh.....”

  “Pesticide?” The barmaid wanted to help him along to get it over with.

  John’s eyes lit up. He reached out and tried to click his fingers and failed completely, “Yeah, that's it. Anyway, I reckon that the pesticu...uh...fuck it, what she just said, mixed with the radiation and made the mosquitoes ride horses called War, Death, uh....Famish and uh....Dopey, I think....”

  “John, you're shitfaced, again! Go home and sleep it off, will you? People are trying to have a quiet evening here.” The landlord, a burly man, had stepped closer from his side of the bar.

  “Aye, you're right. I'm gonna go and get a bag of chips I think,” John staggered out the door, and a sigh of relief could be heard throughout the bar.