Part One: INFECTED
I'm roaming around Dr. Neville's house right now, looking for something to do. I never have much to do during the day than sleep, while he's out scavenging, and sometimes I can't even sleep. I should, so I was ready to go out at night, but sometimes I just don't get anywhere with that.
Dr. Neville's house was very bright. He'd shut the metal barricades in the guest bedroom for me, for sunlight always seeped in and made it hard for me to get any sleep. He's trying his best, though, and for that I am grateful.
When I did walk around the house, I couldn't close the window barricades. Dr. Neville is very adamant about his home being bright and sunshiny. The Infected don't like the sunlight. Not that I did, either, but I could tolerate it more than they could. That didn't stop me from walking around the big house with a big hooded sweatshirt on and the hood pulled around my head.
So here I am. Walking around looking for ways to entertain myself. At last, my infernal boredom has driven me to go and look though Dr. Neville's conglomeration of movies for anything good. I've started trifling through his drawers, but no movies. . . Paper! I've found paper. Lined paper. Oh, how I used to love to write. I wonder if I'm still good at it. . .
But wait. . . Shouldn't I ask Dr. Neville if I could use this paper, first? I have found it while looking through his drawers without permission. . . Bah. We have the entire world. I'll get him some more when it's time for me to go out while he sleeps. He did tell me to sleep today, though. . . I hadn't slept yesterday, either, and my salvaging hadn't been up to gear that night. . . I almost fell asleep in one of the houses I was raiding, so I came home early then slept until one. How did he expect me to get to sleep now?
"That's why you should have stayed up until your normal time! Now you'll have like, jet lag or something," he scolded me when I woke up.
"I'll stay up today! I won't go to sleep early!" I promised.
"Damn right, you won't. I'm not letting you in my house early again. Might follow you," he continued to scold me while walking around to gather all of his ammo and guns and little bags for his outing.
I scoffed. "Yeah, they'll follow me just as soon as a rabbit will follow around a hungry tiger. I'm not bringing one of them home until you ask me to," I assured him.
I could tell by the way he moved his head that he was rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. C'mon, Sam. We need to go," he called to his German Shepherd, Samantha.
Sam glanced at me, her head cocked to the side, and then she followed Dr. Neville outside toward the Ford Expedition. I stepped away from the window, unable to take the sunlight anymore.
Well, I have to stay true to my word. I have to stay out tonight until the sun starts to rise. They can't be able to follow me. . . They would try to hurt Dr. Neville. . . I wouldn't be able to protect him from a whole swarm. . . Dr. Neville is all I have. . . If I lost him, I would go insane.
I grab the papers, head for the table, and sit down. I am going to write. I'm going to write a non-fiction story. I've never written non-fiction. . . But this story is going to be easy. This story is going to be stranger and scarier than fiction. Or any other non-fiction stories, for that fact.
A story about survival. A story about frightening things that are very real. A story about travesties. A story about tragedies.
Wait. . . aren't those the same things? Pause while I get a dictionary!
Nope, they're not. Where was I? Ah, yes.
A story about an unfortunate sequence of events. A story to rattle a soul. A story to make sure nothing like it ever happens again. Maybe humanity can learn from it's mistakes. I was hoping this story could help that. If I am to die in the near future, I want people to know my story. Know it, and learn from it.
Only. . . I sit down and realize I don't have a pen and or pencil. So here I go. . . Getting up and searching through more drawers to find my quarry. . . A mechanical pencil! I must thank Dr. Neville for keeping his house organized.
"Please, Lex. Call me Robert. Or Rob. Or even Robby. I've known you for nearly five months now. I think you've earned the right to call me by my first name," Dr. Neville asked of me.
I'm not allowed to call him Dr. Neville to his face, but I just don't feel right calling him Robby. So, that would be why I'm referring him to Dr. Neville as I write this. Think I should retain some formality.
I've gotten all this down in four hours. It was three when I started. Dr. Neville said it was ok for me to use the paper, but he's going to be angry with me if I don't get out and do some good for him soon. I'm running out of things to put for this prologue slash chapter one, anyway. I'm not sure how to end it, yet, though, at only two pages. Put up with my rambling for a little longer, please.
A little background. . . Just a little. . .
My dad had been a cop. He was always out late at night, coming home at all hours of the night. We got used to it after a while. My family was proud: he was keeping the city safe from criminals, putting 'bad people' behind bars. But, we never did like it. Never. . . Why should we? We barely ever got to see him. Being proud isn't the same thing as liking what he was doing.
As I said, though, we got used to it.
Got used to the fact he was always out, risking his life. Got used to the fact that the night he was out late could be the night he never came back home.
Reese wasn't just a cop, either. He was a detective. He spoke to the criminals. Interrogated them. He was the one who was angering people. Getting inside their heads and was probably the base of many vendettas.
Because Reese was out at all hours of the night, it was just my mom, my little sister, and I. Sadie was only four-years-old at the time, so Olivia had stayed home and watched her. She didn't peg me as responsible enough. She told me she wanted me to have as much freedom as I wanted; hanging out with friends and whatnot, but I knew.
Otherwise, we were a fairly happy family. Reese tried his best to make it to every birthday, every event, but we forgave him for those he missed. He always had a gift ready for when he was home for birthdays. We always recorded the events.
It never would be the same, but we were thankful for those times he was home. Vacations, sick days, just days he had off. We'd go to a movie or out to dinner or something.
Christmas. He always had Christmas off. He made sure his boss, or captain or whatever, gave it to him. Not all of the people on the squad had families that needed attending to and love and all that jazz. Those were happy times. Once he even brought a puppy home. A gift for the family. She was an adorable little Australian Shepherd who we labeled as Cassie. I had been 16 when we got her.
That was a great Christmas. We had her for a very long time. About three years, two years before it happened, one year after.
We had this crazy family tradition of going to church on Christmas Eve. We weren't devout Christians, but both sides of my grandparents had been, so it was important to both Olivia and Reese.
Frightening news reports had been scattered on almost every other channel on the tv. Sadie was only six, so she didn't understand a whole lot of what was going down.
My parents knew, though. And so did I. People were being vacated, that's how bad it was. Did my parents take heed and make us pack a bag each so we could go down to the docks and escape?
They said that now, more than ever, was the time to go to speak to God. Now was the time to repent. Or some nonsense like that. I wanted to leave. I was scared, and the tones we were talking in was scaring Sadie.
Still, we all got dressed up and left for our church like we did every year at this time. The ride there was silent: I wasn't talking to my parents and they didn't feel the need to talk to me or have the radio on. Like any music would have played anyway: it all would have been news.
If only they had taken my pleas to heart. If only they had taken the advice of the news people. If only we would have not gone to church that night. If only we had evacuated like we should have. If only, if only, if only, if only, if only, IF ONLY!
Maybe things would have been different.
My name is Alexis Banes. This is my story.
Well, tell me what you think. I'll post a few more chapters up regardless of what people say, as this was just like an introduction chapter, a prologue if you will, but it's not really a prologue. . . eh you get what I mean. This was just a random idea I got, and I don't want to give much away, but the further I get into the, the more I'll talk about the idea. Maybe. Depends on how feel and if I want to talk about it! Hahaha