1 1/2 more pages of my more progressed book

***

Victoria would help, she had to help. She wouldn’t be able to resist helping her own maker regain his honor. Could she?

Daniel continually repeated these words in his head as he went through his daily routine. Which was, regretfully, utter boredom until night came to release him once more. He quivered for the whole of the daylight hours, trying his best to think of a way to ask for help and keep his dignity at the same time. Not asking, Daniel. Ordering. Forcing her to help. She must, no choice. No choice. Then reality came in and said, “Oh, Daniel, you old fool. You know she has to choose. You are powerless when it comes to this kind of thing. Powerless.” And reality gave him a quick sneer before he turned away and repeated the cycle.

He waited for hours, but the sun continually shone with cheerful arrogance. He angrily punched a wall, and earned a severely burned fist for his trouble. Hopping away, he pushed the couch over the hole to protect him from further pain. Then he ran to the kitchen and ran his hand under ice cold water until it healed.

Sitting there, he allowed himself a great deal of undignified self-pity. Go to Arizona. They had said. Retrieve the Diamond. Should you succeed, we will consider your request for re-admittance to the Order. No, we will make no guarantees until the Diamond is within our possession. Go, now, before we change our minds. And he had left, in front of all present, twelve of his sixteen changed, the whole Council, and so many others he didn’t even want to think of it. All laughing at his removal. All angry. All knowing what he had done and none willing to forgive.

At last, a loud ping rang through his house, announcing darkness. He gratefully removed his hand from the stream of water and watched as the last red spot slowly turned to a healthy pink before his eyes. He put on his long black coat, holes in the back for his wings, mostly for decoration rather than warmth. He picked up the bag he’d packed, then he walked out into the freshly born night, and felt Victoria nearby. She was hunting, a good sign seeing as she would be calmer if recently fed.

He located her, a symbiotic trick only the changer and the one changed could perform. She was not but three streets down, at a construction site, apparently, and he could smell her victim’s fear from where he stood. He laughed. “My sweet, young, Victoria. You never could absorb it all.” And he began to walk towards the source.

***

“Cornelia.” Will walked towards the table she sat at, and she smiled up at him, saying, “Dr. Grey, I’m so glad you came. You’re late, and I thought maybe you had changed your mind. Now that you’re here, shall we walk?” she motioned for him to sit. He did, and a short Asian man came to take his order. Cornelia smiled, almost sneered at the waiter, and shook her head.

“No time for food. We've got other plans for tonight.” she told him. Will almost pitied the guy. Cornelia set three dollars next to her mug and strutted out the door.

Will stood there, irritated, and muttered, “Of course, because I know you couldn’t possibly spare time to answer some questions. Oh, never.” Before stomping after her. He heard chuckling behind him and he turned quickly to glare at the waiter. Then he slammed the glass door and hurried after Cornelia.

They walked down the street and turned down an alleyway. Will followed Cornelia until they had completed a large series of turns and he now had no clue where they were. He gently tapped her on the shoulder and said “Corne—“ and she spun and slammed him into a wall, her hand over his mouth and fear mixed with delight in her eyes. Slowly, she removed her hands and motioned for him to be quiet.

Then, silent, she moved out of his way and pointed around the corner. He slowly tip-toed to look and nearly choked in surprise. There was a very large bird ripping apart a drunkard, and it was no clean process. After a long time, he turned back toward Cornelia and mouthed ‘run’, pointing frantically in the direction they had come. She nodded and silently began walking swiftly away and was out of sight in minutes.

Will turned back toward the bird and watched as it continued on for hours, finally disposing of the body. He shifted his weight and froze. It was standing and tense. It knew he was there.

Some more...

“Come on, Mercy! Be merciful! My class starts in ten minutes!” cried Cindy. She had been yelling for ten minutes and still no reply. Finally Cindy picked the lock and opened the door. Seeing the note on the wall and the bloody trail to the window, she cussed quietly, angrily scraping her sharp nails across the wall. Forcing her wings to rip through her back, she flung herself out of the open window.

“I’ve got to find that immature little…little…gah!” she muttered as she tried to find the trail left by her ward.

***

“I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am, and I know you want Dr. Grey, but you have to believe me when I say that this is his day off and he won’t be in for at least another half an hour. Please, just have a seat. Do you want some coffee? We have other magazines behind the counter if you want other ones.”

“Roy, I’m here.” Will walked in, large bags underneath his eyes. Roy practically fell over his own feet running towards him. His voice was desperate when he whispered “Thank. God.” Into Will’s ear as he shook his hand vigorously. Roy only shook your hand when he was upset or knew you were upset, so Will knew it had to be bad.

Stepping aside, Roy revealed a young woman of her early twenties, who looked extremely frustrated and impatient. He walked up to her and she straightened out, rubbing her thighs quickly and taking deep breaths. She was obviously dealing with grief. Not dealing well, but dealing.

In a cheerful voice, Will introduced himself and invited her into his office, which was really his boss's office, but who had to know that? He let her go before him and turned, mouthing ‘you owe me’ to Roy in with a humor-filled smile. He closed the door behind him, and she went to the couch to take a seat. Will went to his chair and sat, blinking the remnants of sleep from his eyes before turning to the lady and asking, “I’ve been informed that you asked for me personally. Might I ask why, Miss…” he trailed off.

“Jackson. Cornelia Jackson. I asked for you, Grey, because I heard that you have an interesting hobby that may pertain to my husband’s death. Vampires.” She smiled, blue eyes sparkling.

The disappearance of anxiety and the new bluntness in her voice had startled him. And plus, how could she know about his hobbies? He wasn’t a meddling man, and only had a few, some of which were well known by people at work, but a couple he kept away from society, embarrassed by instinctual magnetism to the subjects…

“Well, then. Umm. Why… why is it you think… Are you saying you think vampires killed your husband? Ma’am, you must know that they don’t exist. ” he’d never had someone like this before. Well, truthfully, he’d never had a real patient before…

“Don’t be stupid, Grey. I know that they killed him. And they do exist. You know they do as well as I know, and I only know you know because I know people who know what others tend to not know. So now, will you help me, or not?” She had stood up and was standing in front of him, leaning over his head in an intimidating gesture.

“Umm. I… I’m a psychiatrist, Cornelia. May I call you Cornelia? I’m a psychiatrist, not a private investigator. And your husband… I mean, I don’t know how he died, but… I’m sorry, ma’am, I cannot help you if you are looking for a… vampire hunter. If you still want my assistance, I can certainly help. How have you been handling Mr. Jackson’s death? Do you feel angry? Or are you—“

“William, you will help. In the end, you won’t be able to resist the opportunity of actually seeing one.” Her dark eyes were wide. “I’ve seen them. Don’t you want to know what they look like? Don’t you want to know how wide their wingspread is? Don’t you? You have to want it, Grey. You wouldn’t have been studying them your whole life and not want to know. I am giving you the chance of a lifetime. I know where a few live, here in this very city. I know their names, William. Don’t you want to know their names?” she had taken his hand in her own and had pulled him up. She had smugness and mischief in her eyes.

He was staring at her in shock. True, he had been studying them since he was a young boy. His parents and teachers had called it a “silly obsession”, and he had hidden it from the world to escape the teasing from his classmates. The habit had stuck. So how…?

“They have… wings?” at those words, Cornelia’s mouth broke into a big smile, and she said,

“Yes. Huge. Mostly black, but some are brown and even tan, differing on the personality. The purer the heart the lighter the wings. Some just can’t help the darkness, depending on their maker’s wing color.

“You know, they had to bury my husband only two days after he died because he would’ve crumbled otherwise? What would the doctors have thought if they just found a pile of metal shards where his body was before? He was a construction worker. The stake through his heart was metal, and they just assumed he was human and had ‘fallen on a broken bar’. He wasn’t. Human, that is.

“He died on 5^th Avenue. I’m going down there tonight. They say the killer always comes back to the scene of the crime, and it hasn’t yet, so tonight might be the night, you know? You wanna come? That’s what I thought. Meet me at the coffee shop on the corner at eight.” Cornelia smiled a pleased, confident smile before strutting out the door, leaving him standing bewildered, a million and one questions left unasked on his tongue.

***

Mercy flew high, as high as the clouds, as not to let anyone see her; a “young” girl, with pitch black wings, soaring over the city in her pajamas.

It hurts, as she so often rediscovered, dying. Every time she “changed”, she relived her death, if that’s possible, seeing her life over and over and not being able to focus on anything but that.

Daniel had once told her that dying was peaceful- it most certainly is not. It is, however, true that your whole life flashes before your eyes, every detail, every sin, every good deed, every joy, everything you ever did, saw, or knew, right there. That tall, tidy, wavy haired, absurdly handsome liar.

Mercy’s wings faltered as the swarm of memories once again clouded her mind, making it hard to concentrate on what she was doing. It was no surprise that so many vampires had to be eliminated for going mad.

Bloody tears fell from her eyes at every blink. She had to find Daniel. That thought went through her mind every time she changed. She laughed at herself, and jumped when the overly beautiful voice met her now sensitive ears. She had been searching for Daniel ever since she found she had to feed. She doubted she would ever find him, and even if she did, what would she say? Oh, hello Daniel, can you help me go against my very nature just because I am softhearted and don’t want to kill innocent people? Yeah, right.

Mercy looked down on all the people of the city. Her city. Being a relatively weak vampire, she didn’t find a large, bustling city, but a small town. She scoffed. Most vampires had two or three cities to themselves, and, although she could never find them, she always could sense the presence of one or two others feeding in her territory. She didn’t mind, though, because the humans didn’t mind.

She flew all day, struggling with herself not to just fly down and snatch that juicy fat one or this tender young one. She had to find one that wouldn’t be missed, one completely alone, one ready to die.

Nightfall came, and she was burning from the sun on her back for hours and the need for the sweet, warm flow of human blood. She tried to focus on staying in the air, pushing her large, powerful wings down, then up, down again, up again.

Her hunger overcame her self control, and she pulled in her wings, mostly against her will, and her predator’s eyes searched for easy prey. Her eyes moved to an old man, stumbling home from the bar. Damn. Alcohol meant sour blood; sour blood meant more hunger, sooner.

The world slowed, her vision not only on her prey, but everything, any threats, any advantages, all escape routes. Her ears took in every sound; her mind was racing in the thrill of the hunt. Somewhere, deep inside her, she still remembered that she was a respectable woman. Somewhere. Right now, all she was thinking about was it. Her prey. She smiled. Soon, she would taste his blood; taste the thick, sour, sustenance that kept her sane.

My Other Book

Like I said in early November, I was splitting my writing between two books, and, as I hardly got anthing done on my zombie book (I am still working, though), I got quite a bit done on my other book. Here is the first few pages.

Running along side her mother, Victoria grinned as the butterfly once again escaped her small outstretched hand. Her mother giggled and tackled her, knocking her into the field of flowers. The couple basked in the sun, high in the sky.

Victoria had only been alive for five years, seven months, and two days.

Childhood.

Gone.

1.

Promise

Screaming-again. Mercy recognized the scream immediately. Mother. This moment of her life had been relived over and over for almost 256 years now. She knew and dreaded the silence that came afterwards. After the scream and murder of her mother, the man, if you could call it a man, with those wings and eyes and teeth, the thing that had done it, turned to her. “Greetings. Now dearest, you be a good girl and let me feed on your blood. Your mother here,” he said in fluent, yet irregular French, motioning to the lifeless body laying in the doorway, “she didn’t let me feed, and so, I put her to sleep.” He smiled, showing white teeth, lined with blood, sharp and menacing. The eighteen year old girl whimpered and set her jaw stubbornly, whispering,

“I’m no child, fool! I know what you did.” She spat. “You broke her. You drank her blood. My mother’s blood, her life!” she fought the tears pushing at her eyes. “You would have killed her anyway, you spawn of Satan!” she looked away, and he frowned, speaking to her gently.

“Now, don’t judge simply by actions, darling. I only did it because if I don’t feed, I die.” The girl still wouldn’t meet his eye. “How would you like to make a deal with me, hm? Does that sound good?” She began to reply, but he cut her off, saying “Now before you say ‘no’ or anything of the sort, let me tell you the deal.” He smiled at her as she glanced up, getting a grimace in return. “It follows these rules: one, you let me… drink, two, I let you live, three, I give you the gift of a very long and healthy life. That’s it, no strings attached.” The girl looked disgusted, giving a laugh that held no humor.

“Yes, of course, ‘a very long and healthy life?’ is that all you could think of? Who do you think I am? I am no commoner!” the man looked down, seemingly ashamed.

“I’m sorry; I haven’t been in my human mind for quite a while, you know, I’ve almost forgotten how it works. So simple, yet complex at the same time.” He shook his head, then swallowed. “Yes, I would change you into one of my kind; you would be so powerful, given time, of course. No more people would dare hurt you. You wouldn’t be invincible, but you would be strong, so strong. You could live like no other human has ever lived before. I promise you. I promise you!” Then, seeing the denial in her eyes he knelt in front of her, a desperate, pleading look masking his formerly smug expression, “Please. I haven’t eaten for a month. Please.” The girl finally looked into his eyes, those blood red eyes, and saw the pain, the sorrow, the desperation, and the… hunger which lay beneath them. Her stubbornness melted away as she realized this man had suffered for more years than she had been alive. She felt a tear fall from her eye, a tear of pity, and she answered quietly.

***

Mercy woke up, tears streaming down her cheeks, breath coming in short gasps. She dreaded that dream. Everything about it made her wish she could change the past. New tears began to run down her cheeks, because she knew she had ruined her life that day, ruined her life, her mothers life, and many other people’s lives that day.

More tears came when she felt thirst, writhing and painful, and she swallowed a sob. She remembered the words the man had muttered after he changed her. As she had thrashed wildly on the ground, he had held his hand over his mouth muttering, with a mix of English and French, he’d said ‘No more. No more. Made a promise. Promise. Pro…mise…” She hadn’t understood the words then, but after the virus had taken over and the pain had lessened every memory she’d ever had had played before her eyes, up until that moment, with it frightening clarity and detail.

Worrying that Daniel- that was the beast’s name- might be in her dorm, she glanced around the dark room, which was slowly becoming illuminated by the rising sun. Her enhanced vision made it easy to see that no charming demons were lurking in the shadows. Nothing.

Well, almost nothing, there were snores coming from above her. She stood up, just to make sure- yep, just Cindy. Wiping the tears from her face and taking a couple deep breaths, she looked at her watch- 5:00am. She tried for a smile and nudged her roommate.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead. It's morning. Think you can stay in bed just 'cause you ‘forgot’ to set your alarm? Poor mistake there, Cindy-win.”

“Hate your nicknames Mercy… win,” groaned her roommate, Cindy Wood.

“Yeah, but still, it is five o’clock am and you have class in thirty minutes, Winnie.” Mercy smiled. “Oh yeah, and Cinderella-bella? I woke up first so I get the bathroom first.” Cindy groaned. “Get up!” She laughed when she heard Cindy mutter something about ‘stupid Mercy and her stupid nicknames, then slipped into the privacy of the small bathroom.

Once inside, Mercy locked the door and turned to find her reflection staring disappointedly at her. Same old girl. It wasn’t safe to keep the same appearance as long as she had, but she couldn’t seem to let go of the last tie she had to her family. She looked exactly the same as she had decades ago. Same old green eyes, black hair, fair skin; same nineteen year old girl, but for how long? One hundred, two hundred years, maybe. At the thought of age, the true age came into her mind instantly- two hundred and seventy-four.

She stared in to those eyes, so old, so young, always different, and never changing. She sighed.

As if on cue, her eyes began to change, a dark rusty tint beginning to cover up the green.

“No. Not now, please,” she whispered, panic racing through her bloodstreams, racking her brain for ideas.

She opened her drawer, pulling out a sharpie; she began to write on the wall:

Surprise trip, back in a jiffy! 

-M

As she stumbled towards the window, two knives were stabbed into her back. No, not knives from the behind, wings from inside. She felt the blood dripping down her back as the sharp black feathers ripped their way out of her skin. Her mouth crunched as her jaw moved to make room for her teeth, now long and sharp. Her fingertips bled as claws protruded from each finger. Her wings fluttered impatiently. Mercy got to the window, and seeing it was already open, she jumped.

***

The phone rang. Again, and again. After what seemed like hours of incessant noisemaking, Will fell asleep to the rhythm then woke again at the beep that told him he ‘had a new message’. Reaching blindly for the play button, he relaxed to listen to what would be the end of his relaxation.

“Hey, Will, it’s Roy. I know it’s your day off, but can you come in today? Well, I really need you to come in now, not later. This lady is seriously insane. She requested you personally, says she knows someone who heard about your ‘epic skills’, who even says that? Anyway, she won’t see anyone else, won’t reschedule either. She’s threatening to sue if we don’t get her the psychiatrist she wants and… can she even do that? You’re not even a real psychiatrist, no offense, man, but still. Anyway, whenever you get this, come in, Anderson is offering a raise if you can fix this lady. I didn’t know interns got paid at all. Thanks, bro. I’ll see you then.” The answering machine let out a high beep and said in a robotic female voice, “No. More. Messages.”. Will groaned and sat up.

Opening his eyes revealed that his alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. Five thirty-nine. Five freaking thirty-nine. He rolled out of bed, groaning and making silent promises to kill Roy and the customer who had him awake at such ungodly hours of the morning.

He stumbled through his shower, clothes, and breakfast. Then after a slight combing of short blond hair, he grabbed his suitcase, and stumbled out to his cheap black Kia.

now, I know it isnt the best, but i promise, it gets better!
thanks for reading!!

-Siena

A few new pages from Plague

Day 19

January 4^th, 2013

Dear Diary, they've decided to cancel school today, so that everyone has a chance to get out and breathe in the anti-virus at noon. I'm glad, because now I don't have to pay Mrs. Higgins to babysit El and Nico.

Drake is home from boarding school, which is a good/bad kind of situation for me. Good because now I really won't have to pay Higgins, but we have to keep another mouth fed as well. Apparently the Plague is even worse in Minnesota, so they're trying to evacuate the major cities. I have no idea where they're expecting all those people to go.

The scientists in D.C. Have apparently made a huge breakthrough, but aren't telling anyone yet. Rumor has it that one of their 'cures' of such, has actually killed the president, and they've learned quite a bit from the corpse.

Others say he's still alive, and losing his mind because of the virus. Anyway, I don't care what's happening in the White House, I just want my house to be normal again. I'm so sick of taking care of everyone; I want my mom back! Dad has been unconscious since yesterday, but I don't even want to check for a pulse. I feel like everything is falling apart.

The news is on right now, and they're saying that this could be a fatal stroke to our country. Maybe even all of humankind? Bull, if you ask me. Mortal, likely, but not fatal. There are too many stubborn humans in the world for us all to die. Me included.

They say that stores are closing everywhere, and we should hurry to buy food and other needed supplies if we want to survive. Lucky thing mom restocked the pantry with fresh food, just last November. I'll go shopping when I'm done writing in here. I'll have to take El, Nico, and Drake with me, as I am way too paranoid to leave them alone anymore.

Funny, don't you think? This time one month ago, I was at school, worrying about how the boys in my class would think of my new jeans, trying to figure out how to hide my failing grade from my mom, never even imagining I would have to take care of my family in this kind of situation. I used to walk out of my house thinking about where I was going, how I had to act in front of the people I was going to see. I wasn't thinking about how much food my family would have in the coming weeks, or worrying on how we were going to survive the coming times.

I need to go shopping, so I'll head out now. More tomorrow if I have time.

• Sophie

***

Sophie closed her diary and sighed. She stood, stretched, and called her siblings downstairs. They came slowly, looking somber and tired. Drake was carrying Nico on his hip, and Nico was leaning heavily on his shoulder and sucking his thumb.

“I'm going to Walmart for food, does anyone want to come?” she asked, but knew very well herself that it wasn't even a question. They all needed to get away from their house, away from their dying parents.

As Sophie was helping Nico get his coat on, there sounded a loud rumbling, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, all at once. The ground shook, and the entire house quivered, framed photographs falling from the walls and crashing on the wood floors, glass shattering. Sophie pulled her siblings into the entrance hall doorway, no one daring to speak. She'd heard once that that was the safest place in case of an earthquake. Eloise started to cry.

After what seemed like forever, the noise and shaking ceased, and, slowly, the group emerged from the doorway. Anything that had been mounted or set on top of a shelf or table was now scattered across the floor, most of it broken. Sophie took a deep breath, and turned to her brothers and sister.

“Drake, pack yours and Nico's things, I'll help Eloise. We can't stay here.” she said, and took Eloise's hand as she started upstairs.

Drake took Nico to his room, and not fifteen minutes later, their luggage was stacked in the entrance hall, and Eloise was crying again. Sophie checked that they were all there, save their parents, who were inevitably going to die.

“I'm going to go start up the car, you guys stay here.” she said, and went outside. She slammed the door shut quickly as she saw people, more people than she'd seen outside in weeks, stumbling up and down the street. Then she remembered; the anti-virus had been dropped that morning. But these people didn't seem like they were recovering, but quite the opposite.

Everyone she saw, adults, children, elderly alike, all had a sickly green pallor to their skin. Some had their eyes closed, some were weeping, some were moaning pathetically. A woman, Ms. Batch, was chewing on someone, and her victim wasn't even resisting.

The first word that came to Sophie's mind: zombies. Ridiculous, she knew, there's no such thing as zombies. And yet...

Her mind fled to all of her friends, all her family, who could be infected, who was still alive. She quickly went back into the house.

“Lock the door. Do not go outside unless I tell you to. I'll be right back.” she said, and hurried to the kitchen. She grabbed the phone off the counter and quickly dialed Marie's number. Marie picked up on the second ring.

“Sophie?” said Marie, as soon as she picked up.

“Marie, are you okay? Is your family okay?” Sophie asked quickly. There was a pause. It sounded like Marie was crying.

“No. My parents... my sister... Sophie, I think that it's the end of the world. We're all going to die, aren't we, Sophie?” asked Marie weakly. Sophie swallowed.

“No, Marie. No, of course not. I'm taking the boys and Eloise to Walmart to get supplies before we leave. You're coming with us. Is Charlie alright?” Marie took a shaky breath.

“Yeah, but I had to put his muzzle on so that he would stop barking at the people outside. Sophie, what's happened?”

“They dropped the anti-virus, and it seems like everyone who's infected just got a lot worse.” Sophie made sure not to use the word 'zombie'. It was one of Marie's greatest fears, a zombie apocalypse. Just next to that was spiders.

“Sophie?” Marie said, “are we going to be okay? Will you come pick me up? Where are we going to stay?”

“Calm down, Marie, yes, were going to be fine. Yes, I will come pick you up. I think we'll get supplies, then head out to my grandparents house in the country until they send some scientists or the army or something. Pack your things, get Charlie ready, he'll help protect us, and We'll be at your house in ten minutes. Be ready, Marie.” Sophie commanded, and hung up.

As she dialed Ria's number, she thought of her grandparents. What if they were infected, too?

“Hello?”

Sophie sighed. It had never been so good to hear Ria's voice than now.

“Ria, it's Sophie. Mom and Dad are gone. I'm taking the boys, Eloise, Marie, and Charlie out to Walmart for food. I need you to pick up Cassie and meet me there. Bring Lola if you need to. I'm calling Cassie as soon as I hang up with you.”

“Sophie, wait. Where are Mom and Dad? Did they... oh.” she paused, realizing what Sophie meant. “Lola's been infected with the Plague. She hit me and ran outside. I haven't seen her since. Sophie, you can't go outside, there are these zombie-people out there, and they're eating everything. They're eating each other!”

“I know. We can't stay here. I'll call you back, but start packing. Only what you need, Ria.” Sophie said, and they said reluctant goodbyes before hanging up. Next, Sophie dialed Cassie's cell phone. It rang, and rang, and rang before her voice mail picked up. Sophie left a message and dialed the Walgreen's service number. She got a machine, and tried four of Cassie's coworkers and Cassie's cell again. None of them picked up. Finally, she called Ria again.

“Sophie?”

“Cassie's gone. Meet us at Walmart in twenty minutes.” she said simply, and hung up.

***

“This is everything?” Kit asked, biting her lip. Jacob nodded. Before them on one of the empty beds were three padlocks and twenty feet of thick chain.

“This is everything.” he said, then swallowed hard. “Well, not everything. I came across a homeless man on my way back. It looked like suicide to me. He was holding this.” Jacob reached into one of the deep pockets of his coat and pulled out a dull black pistol.

“Shit.” Kit said, and nodded. “Protection only?” she asked, and he nodded. “Good. We very well may need it. Although it won't help if the kids are breaking their own arms.” she sighed, rubbing her temples.

“It took me three hours to set the bone and wrap it. Three hours I could have been helping. We'll need medicine, too. Max didn't sleep a minute last night. He kept a lot of us awake with him with his moaning and crying. I couldn't do anything, and he'll be bedridden for at least a week, to top it off.” she clenched her fists against her forehead.

“That means that Olivia, Pete, Jamie, Sawyer, and Max are all out of business. Andrea, too, though that can't be helped. We never made it outside with anyone, so now none of them will get the anti-virus. It's likely that they'll die. The rest can keep transferring the food from the storeroom.” she continued, eyes squeezed shut. Jacob clenched his jaw.

“Take this and go get some coffee or something. You clearly need either that or sleep.” he handed her a five dollar bill. “I'll secure the back door with the chain and a padlock, and start boarding up the windows.” he said, and she hugged him tightly.

“Thanks, Cobb.” she said, and ran out.

***

Marie risked another glance out the window. The street had cleared up a bit, and now only the pastor that lived down the block, his daughter, and the old man from two blocks away remained. The pastor had been eating his daughter for the past minute or so, and she'd stopped screaming.

Marie clenched Charlie's fur tightly in her fists, breathing quickly, but managing to keep from crying again. Her backpack was stuffed full of clothes, books, and food. She'd also taped four large Ziploc bags full of dog food to her backpack for Charlie. He would finish it in less than three days, but it was all she could fit.

He was huge, some breed of guard dog from Alaska, she guessed, and a beautiful pearly white, with the occasional tan or brown streak in his long fur. Sophie was right to assume he would protect them. If any dog was protective of his humans, it was Charlie.

At last, Sophie pulled into her driveway, and Marie quickly slung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed Charlie's leash. She hurried out the door and into Sophie's passenger seat, not even bothering to lock the house door; her family was gone, and she didn't think there would be many robbers out and about unless the plague was well enough gone, and if they needed something from her house that badly, they could have it.

Sophie took Marie's hand and gave it a quick squeeze before pulling away, careful not to hit the pastor, and drove quickly off. They rode in silence, passing corpses, walking corpses, infected people eating others, eating people who hadn't yet been infected. Some looked up at the car dumbly, some snarled with pathetic animosity, some just moaned.

Eloise started humming, and counting the people on the street. Nico had fallen asleep almost as soon as he was buckled in, and Drake held his hand tightly, biting his lip. Marie still clutched at Charlie, who took up half the backseat and rested his paws and head between the two front seats. Sophie's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Marie glanced at her, worried.

“Sophie... why are we going to Walmart?” she asked hesitantly. Sophie tried a reassuring smile, and manged a slight grimace.

“We need food.” she said simply, trying to loosen her grip on the steering wheel. Marie nodded slowly.

“Food... Yeah. Will we wait in the car, or do you want me to come in with you?” Marie asked, eyes wide. Drake spoke up.

“I'll go in and help Sophie, you can stay in the car. Keep the doors locked until you see us come out, and keep everyone quiet.” he said, and resumed gnawing on his lip. Sophie nodded.

“This will work. Everything is going to be fine.” she said, swerving to avoid a body, bloody and chewed up.

***

Kit ran back into the orphanage nearly as soon as she'd left, panting. Jacob dropped the board he'd picked up and ran to her. Her eyes were wide, her mouth working wordlessly. Jacob guided her to the visitors' bench and helped her sit.

“Kit. What happened? What's wrong?” he asked as she sat. Kit took a shaky breath.

“They... We're too late. There's infected people everywhere. Eating one another. Start boarding the windows. Fast. I'll get the back door. They'll go rabid like Headmaster any time now.” she said, and grabbed the length of chain and the padlock from the floor. Jacob took three large boards under one arm and grabbed a nail gun and the box of nails in the other.

“Kit.” he said, and she spun, expression impatient. “Be careful.”

                                                                        ***

11/8/11

Well, I left off at the end of Day 18, and I don't have much done on 19, just sophie's diary entry so far, but it's coming along nicely, and it's getting closer and closer to the excitement. Just hold on a bit longer, and I'll have Day 19 posted in no time.

-Siena

November 7th, 2011 Weekends are off.

        Well, it's obvious to me now that I cannot write on the weekends. I got exactly zero words written over the span of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This being said, I've decided to extend my NaNoWriMo month an extra two weeks into December, perhaps even farther. I have little to no access to computers after school while babysitting, doing homework, and all those nice, time-occupying tasks.
      This also means that I don't have anything new to post today. Hopefully tomorrow will be different. I have many things to do tonight, but tomorrow I am free for almost five hours. I'm not saying I'll spend that entire time writing, but I will try to get some work done!
       Also, I've reached the 'boredom' point in my writing of Plague, so if the pages start getting dull, tell me, because I will try to push harder. I have some action planned out, but I still have a LOT to go.

-Siena

A couple of the First Pages 11/5/11

               Sorry I did't post any of the book yesterday! Here's a couple pages I've got done. Don't worry if it's a bit boring now, it's gonna get crazy real soon!

*NaNoWriMo*

Day 18

January 3^rd, 2013

Dear Diary,

Today was horrible. We all had to go to school, even with so many people out sick! There was a total of twenty-seven freshmen, thirty-two sophomores, sixteen juniors, and thirty-seven seniors. I had three substitute teachers, and my Chemistry class was canceled because Sister Joan was sick, and none of the other teachers who knew chemistry were well enough to teach. We simply had study hall for an hour and a half, and it was horrible.

Because of the subs, we had zero homework, and learned nothing! Now, don't get me wrong, I really don't like school. But sitting in a desk, doing practically nothing, for eight hours a day, five days a week, for nearly two weeks now, it's horrible! I would rather be getting lectures!

Most of my friends are sick, so it was just Ben, Sam and Sam, Katie, Lydia, Savanna, Michael, Morgan, Christie, Julian, Bee, and some others. Marie, my best friend, a sophomore, said that Kathy and Marissa are both out sick with the disease. All the students have started calling the disease Zombification, because it turns people, practically, into zombies. I think it's stupid, because it's an airborne disease, but since it started, its stuck, and it isn't like we're going to change it.

The so-called scientists in Washington D.C. Have started calling it Plague Jupiter, because they think that the space shuttle came back with it last month. I think that 'The Space Plague' would have been more catchy, but I guess it's catching enough already, we don't need more people to get sick. Ha, ha.

Brad wrote to us, saying that they likely won't get the disease because of the location of his jail cell, but that he's scheduled to leave for the prison in Indiana next month. That kind of scares me. Mom and Dad are already sick, and so are my grandparents, all four of them. Grandma Mary is the worst. She can't move, and is getting worse every day.

I'm worried about her, but the scientists have come out with an anti-virus-thingy that they're spraying by plane tomorrow night at six, so we're all supposed to go for walks, play outside, open all the windows in January, and all that. I hope it works.

I have to go for now, my mom is screaming again. She needs her shots. Blegh.

• Sophie

***

Jacob sat in the street, sobbing shamelessly. People passed cautiously, avoiding the bulking figure. He didn't care what they thought, what they said, he didn't care about anything anymore. His girlfriend, Andy, was dead. He'd had to kill her. The funeral was next week Thursday. No one but the police, the judge, and Andy's direct family knew what he'd done. How she'd died. How she'd been murdered.

“Cob, I've been looking for you! You have to come home. We need your help at the shelter.” Kit tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at her with miserable eyes.

“I killed Andy.” he said simply, and dropped his face into his hands.

“Yeah, big deal. She went insane, tried to kill you, and you smacked her. Whoop-de-doo. Now pick up that overgrown ass and come back to the shelter. Other people are going to die if you don't come help.” she said, and Jacob drew in a shaky breath. The other orphans needed him. They were his responsibility until next March, when he turned eighteen.

“Headmaster?” he asked, and Kit bit her lip.

“Not good. I tied her down again. She was screaming. Not even words anymore, just screaming. Scariest freaking thing in the world, I'll tell you. The kids are freaking out, especially the sick ones. Jamie got a fever this morning. Sawyer started the screaming. Andrea's dead.” she said, and Jacob looked up sharply.

“What? How? No!” he said, despair starting to take hold again. Andrea was only seven. Is. Is only seven. Kit shook her head.

“She screamed for six hours straight, then drowned in her own blood. That's what we think, at least. Her throat was bleeding pretty bad.” she said, and shivered involuntarily. Jacob stood, tears streaming freely again.

“Let's go.”

***

Recording 1

Sparks, Anna

January 3^rd, 2013

“This is Anna Sparks, recording one, during my Plague Jupiter sickness. (cough) I, I don't think I have much time anymore.(cough) Sophie, Cassie, Ria and the younger boys seem to be healthy, but Peter and,(cough) Peter and I are just getting worse. I don't think the airborne anti-virus will help. I'm too far gone, I know that. (cough) My memories are fading, I can't remember my parents names, or if I had any siblings while growing up. You wouldn't believe how frustrating it can be. Sometimes, I'll wake up to (cough), I'll wake up and see Sophie crying by my bed. She says that I just start screaming and she has to sedate me.

“She hates doing it, I know, but I don't know how to stop it, hell I don't even know I'm doing it! (cough). I, I can't... (cough) I just can't...(screaming)”

***

“She has to go to the hospital. She won't survive much longer.” Jacob said, wincing as Headmaster Dane screamed again. Kit shook her head.

“The TV says that we shouldn't take Jupiter patients to the hospital anymore. They've got too many and the anti-virus is being dropped tomorrow, so they want to see if that is going to work.” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. Headmaster suddenly jerked out of the bed, tearing the restraints and lunging at Kit. Kit screamed and jumped away, but not fast enough.

Dane's fingernails dug into her skin, and Kit screamed again. Jacob swung a punch at Dane's face, and his huge fist connected with her sunken eyes with a sickening thump-squish. Dane didn't go down. She kept Kit's arm in her hand and screeched, a horrible, horrible sound. She pulled Kit's arm closer and opened her rotting mouth. Jacob grabbed the lamp off of the bedside table and swung it at Dane's head. The lamp shattered, and Dane's head split. Blood sprayed everywhere. Kit quickly shook Dane's hand off of her arm and held her arm closely to her chest.

“She tried to eat me!” she whispered. Jacob panted, eyes wide. Two. He'd killed two people in one week. Both because of the plague. How many more would go insane and die by other people defending themselves? By Jacob defending himself?

“Cobb, you okay?” Kit asked. Jacob nodded

“Fine. Fine. How's your arm?” he asked, glancing at the body on the bed before walking over to his friend.

“It'll heal within the week.” she said, examining the nail marks. They were bleeding, and hurt, but didn't have the sting of infection. “I need something to wrap it in, though. Can you wrap up the body while I go get some bandages?” Jacob nodded and Kit ran downstairs.

He looked at the body on the bed. His guardian, mentor, disciplinary conductor, and friend. He decided then that no matter how bad things got in the coming days, no matter how many people he had to... kill, to do it, he would protect Kit and the other kids at the orphanage. With his life, if needed.

Kit came back ten minutes later, and together they carried the body out back to sit with Andrea's. Then they went back upstairs and sat together in silence for a while, before Kit spoke up.

“Cobb, we've been best friends since the day I arrived. You've been like my older brother, taking care of me and all the other kids when no one else would. You and I are the oldest people here now that Dane is... Dane is dead. You and I are in charge now.” Jacob stared at her as she spoke, and saw her eyes moistening.

“What I'm trying to say is, well, I just to let you know that I love you, and whatever happens with the plague, I'll support your decisions as leader.” she finished, and he held her hand tighter.

“Thanks, Cat. But if I'm going to be a leader, then you have to as well. I can't do it alone.” he said, and she nodded, eyes drying.

“We need to start getting ready for when the Plague gets worse. Start moving the beds and food into the basement. Unpack the storeroom and move all the supplies down as well. I'll start looking for locks and thick chains at thrift stores and such, and Cat,” he said, taking her other hand into his, “be careful.”

“Likewise. Now, go, I'll hold down the fort until you get back.” she smiled, and Jacob was once again amazed at how much courage and energy she could contain. Classic Irish woman, he thought, ruffling her fire-colored hair before hurrying out, so petite and gentle looking, but with so much cleverness and wits inside.

***

Sophie sighed as her mother dropped down into her bed again, unconscious. She placed the empty syringe on the bedside table and walked out into the hall. Ria was supposed to be there at four, and it was already past six. Sophie checked her watch. Make that seven.

She hadn't slept for nearly two days now, Ria hadn't been around to help at all since Tuesday, and had left for her apartment almost as soon as she saw how bad mom was getting. Cassie had taken jobs at both Walgreen's and McDonald's just to put food on the table, and therefore was hardly ever home. She'd dropped school just to take care of her family. The Plague was spreading, she knew, and she had a feeling deep down that the 'cure' that was being dropped tomorrow would do nothing to help.

She felt a tugging on her pants leg and looked down. Eloise was standing there, silently, holding Nicholas' hand.

“Nico needs medicine.” she said quietly. Sophie sighed. She bent down to pick up the two year old boy. She took Eloise's hand as she went downstairs. She placed the boy on the counter and checked his temperature. He definitely had a fever, that was sure. He looked fine, though. After giving him some Tylenol, she carried him to the living room and put in a movie for him. He sat eerily quiet as Winnie the Pooh sang to him.

She walked back into the kitchen, where Eloise was eating a banana and humming quietly.

“Thank you for telling me about Nico, El. He did need medicine.” Sophie said, sitting down next to her sister. Eloise smiled partially.

“I'm seven, Sophie, I can tell when someone is sick. Mommy and Daddy are going to die, I know that, too.” she said, chewing banana thoughtfully. Eloise hardly ever talked, so this was vastly unusual for her. Sophie stared at her sister, wanting to deny it, but knowing she could never lie so cruelly.

“I'm sorry, Eloise. I'm so sorry.” she said quietly. Eloise took wrapped small arms around Sophie's neck and cried with her.

***

“They don't understand, Katherine. They don't want to go.” Mickie said quietly, gesturing to the number of children sleeping, crying, and playing, all hushed in the bedchamber. It was a large room, furnished with twelve sets of bunk beds and twenty-seven wooden chests for belongings. Not many were filled.

Kit looked at the children sadly. One less than there had been yesterday. That made a total of twenty-two children altogether, including herself and Jacob.

Mickie was the third oldest, coming in at a whopping fifteen years old, and, like the two oldest, felt a great sense of protection and responsibility for the other children staying at the orphanage. The youngest, Chelsea, had just turned seven last fall. Andrea would have bee youngest otherwise, her birthday had been in December, near the time that the Plague had surfaced.

Kit shook the image of Andrea's body out of her mind and swallowed.

“They don't have to understand, they just need to move. Get the older kids to start moving the chests down. I'll take some others for unpacking the storeroom. Leave Olivia here to tend to Sawyer, Jamie, and Pete.” she said, and Mickie nodded.

“Alright everyone! Listen up! I need Mercedes, Max, Tina, Trevor, Maxine, and Clara to help Mickie get our chests into the basement. I unlocked for you. Tina, there should be a wedge in the closet to keep the door open. Go on!” Kit shouted, and waited until the children were gone before addressing the rest.

“Now, Olivia, I need you to stay here and take care of Jamie, Sawyer, and Pete. Chelsea, I need you to stay here and help. The rest of you, Kent, Jim, triplets, Beatrice, Flynn, and John, you come with me. We're going to unpack the storeroom and move all the supplies downstairs.” the kids didn't say anything, but followed obediently.

Fawn, Felix, and Fiona, the triplets, approached her as the group was emptying the storeroom. They were eleven, and identical, only Fiona having long black hair to separate her from her brothers. It was Fawn, or maybe Felix, who spoke.

“We're moving because of the sickness, aren't we, Katherine?” he said, striking blue eyes shining with innocence. Kit nodded.

“You think it's going to get real bad, and you want to protect us?” the other boy, maybe Felix, said. Kit nodded again.

“We'll be safer if we stay in the basement, won't we?” asked Fiona, and Kit smiled.

“Yeah. We will.” she said, and the triplets exchanged a look. Fiona spoke again.

“Fawn and Felix and I decided that we'll try to convince the other kids that you're doing the right thing. We believe that you're only doing what you're doing because doing it will make us stay healthy. We want to help.” she said, and Kit smiled wider.

“Thank you, guys.” she said, and the triplets went back to work. She took a box of canned food from the closet and carried it out, setting it on top of a growing pile.

Tina, fourteen, rushed in suddenly, tears streaming down her face. Kit ran over to her, worried.

“It's Max. a chest fell on his arm and you can see the bone and Maxine passed out because you can see the bone and I think his arm is broken and Maxine fell down the stairs when she passed out and Mickie said to get you!” Tina gushed, brown bobbed hair quivering with every hurried word.

Kit sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.

***

11/4/11 Half-day!

           Today I have a half day, and therefore not as much time as I would like to write. I will try to get a few pages of Plague posted sometime during the day. It may not be four thousand words long quite yet, but we'll get there!

-Siena

Blog One, 11/3/11 NaNoWriMo

I've started NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. I've tried it in the past, and have never gotten very far in the month. My lifelong goal has always been to write and publish a fantasy novel, and I hope to get a good chunk of a novel done this month.
            This month I'm going to be sharing my NaNo's between two books. One, title-less, is a book I've been planning for almost four years. I have quite a bit done already, though I'm going to keep that one a secret until the end of the month.
            The second book, also without a title, is one that I've always thought would be extremely fun to write. It is a pre- and postapocalyptic story of two groups of children who are struggling to survive the 'Plague Jupiter'. A cheesy name, yes, but I plan on getting a better name for it later on.
             I am excited for starting this blog and I hope you like it,

- Siena

PS.
dedicated to Angel <3