The Virus by Lee, Damien (summer books txt) 📕

trickle of blood dripped silently from its beak. Its body trembled. The temptation became too much to bear. With an ecstatic screech, it leapt from the pole and swooped down.

“Get down!” Ben managed as he ducked the bird’s attack. It sped past him, soaring high into the air before curling back for a second strike. Ben ducked again, only this time, the bird’s claw tore into his shoulder. He grimaced as it rose once more, preparing for a third assault. He fumbled his keys, pressing whatever buttons he could. A prompt beep signalled the car was unlocked. The pair scrambled inside as the bird swooped again.

“Are you okay?” Amy asked as Ben examined his wound.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The pair flinched as the kestrel struck the roof of the car. It bounced onto the hood where it lay motionless.

“Jesus,” Ben whispered, unable to take his eyes off the bird. “It’s not just humans this thing is affecting.”

“We have to look out for birds as well?”

“Maybe. But I doubt many can fly. If it’s a bite that’s turned them, then chances are they’ll be too injured to get in the air.”

“You think?”

Ben nodded. “Bird’s wings are delicate. If they’re injured, they usually can’t fly. This kestrel might be one of the few with intact wings.”

“But what if it’s not just a bite that can turn them?”

“What else could infect them?”

Amy shrugged, her eyes fixed on Ben’s shoulder. He looked down, noticing that blood had started to seep through the fabric. He hissed in pain as she pulled back his shirt. A fresh trickle of blood ran from the narrow graze.

“It’s not deep, you’re lucky,” Amy said.

“Yeah, I feel it. Most people get shit on by birds. I’m the one who gets attacked by one.”

He looked for a smile on Amy’s face, but there was none. Her raw eyes looked blank as he started the car.

They drove in silence back to her home. Amy stared out of the window for the entire journey. She glanced at the deceased men and women littering the streets with a newfound indifference. Now that her mother was gone, the turmoil of the rest of humanity seemed trivial. She felt numb. She had lost the most important person to her. The thought of the rest of her family succumbing to the virus had less impact now that her mother was dead. As they arrived back on her street, she voiced her woes to Ben.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?”

“This. Constantly running from these things. One mistake and it’s over.” A fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Which is why we need to stick together.”

“For what? What good will it do?”

She spotted her phone in the road as Ben pulled up. After a cursory glance to make sure they were alone, Amy got out of the car. The unsettling silence caused her heart to beat more urgently. She wiped her tears away, listening for any nearby threats. There were none. She strode over to her phone, conscious of how loud her footsteps seemed. She sighed in dismay when she saw a long crack spider-webbed across the screen. With another quick glance around, she picked it up and returned to the car. To her surprise, a white light glared from the screen as it resumed its normal start-up process.

“Huh, it still works.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“I dropped it when I fell. I’m surprised it didn’t break.”

A notification on the screen made her heart race.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“It’s my grandparents. They tried to call me back!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’ve got two missed calls.”

She dialled the number again, waiting anxiously for one of them to pick up. Her heart sunk when it went through to the answering machine again.

“Hey, it’s me, Amy. Are you there?”

She looked at Ben, who watched her eagerly.

“If you’re there, please pick up the phone.”

She waited patiently, hoping to hear one of her grandparents on the other line. After a brief pause, she let out a sigh.

“Okay, well ring me back as soon as you can. I’ve got my phone with me now. I’m just going to Sunnymoor with a friend from work and then we’ll come for you, okay?”

She looked at Ben, who was nodding.

“Hope to see you soon, bye.”

She hung up the phone and looked back at him. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” Ben grinned. “Where do they live?”

“On a farm about ten miles north of here.”

“North?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just don’t tell Fran, our dad has a place a few miles north. She might insist on checking up on him.” He laughed as he started the car and turned back onto the street.

“Really? What’s his name? I might know him.”

Amy tried to recall the countless farmers she had met through her grandfather. In such a small community, everyone knew each other.

“Gordon Chesterfield.”

Amy gasped. “Your dad’s Gordon Chesterfield?”

“Yup.”

“He owns the slaughterhouse?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, I’m glad you’re not fond of him. I could never go there. That’s one of the reasons I’m a vegetarian.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to admit I can’t touch beef either. Chicken I’m okay with, but not cows.”

They veered onto a main road and proceeded back towards Sunnymoor. Amy still felt the crippling grief of losing her mother. But the notion of her grandparents still being alive helped to ease the pain. The prospect of losing them as well was almost too much to bear.

20

They stood over the two bodies in the dank, foul-smelling bedroom. Upon hearing the blast, Frank and Lisa had gone up to investigate, more than aware of what they would find. When they reached the top of the stairs, the first thing that hit them was the smell. The door to the barricaded bedroom was wide open, releasing the