Day 17
January 3rd, 2018
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 of us 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 senior, 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 the doctors think 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.”
***
“The Homeless Evil Vanquishers!” cried Buggy. Nim Nim shook her head. Tigger nodded slowly, and Tri just giggled.
“THEV!” she said, and Buggy bobbed his head enthusiastically. Nim Nim shook her head again.
“We aren't homeless, guys. We have a home, right here, in our little... nook. Yes, our little nook.” said Nim Nim, looking around the makeshift shelter, nestled tightly in between the large bar that plays the football games every day and the public library, which were only eight feet from one another. Tigger often bragged about how long it had taken him and Buggy to assemble the wooden home, which stretched from brick wall to brick wall, all eight feet, and from the back of the alley about six feet out, and was five feet tall. The roof was solid enough to keep out the rain, made of the same wood as the walls and covered in a plastic motorcycle cover, cut to fit. They'd used a large quilt to cover the entrance, and it was nearly always dark inside.
Now the group of kids were all sitting in a circle inside, laughing, frightened, at how the sick people outside were going crazy. The conversation had turned into crazy muggers, and what they would do if they got mugged, and then to how they would all team up and defeat the evil forces.
“I like it. We are THEV. But Nim Nim is also right, Bug. We have a home. Took us a month to make it, and within the first month living in it we've acquired a momma hobo,” he gestured to Nim Nim, “and a daughter hobo.” he looked pointedly at Tri, who was tearing a newspaper into very tiny pieces.
“Who's the dad?” asked Nim Nim, who had folded her arms defensively. Tigger sat up straight, grinning.
“Why, me, my darling!” he shouted, and everyone but Nim Nim laughed. She hated when he acted so immature. Which was, always. For God's sake, he was nearly seventeen! He should learn to act his age! Tri continued giggling long after everyone else had stopped, and Nim Nim looked at her, a look of pure irritation scrunching up her face.
“What is it, you fool?” she spurted, and Tri giggled harder.
“If... I'm the daughter...” she sputtered, squeezing words out between fits of laughter, “then you're my mommy! My mommy's younger than I am!” she exploded, and started rolling around on the floor, making Nim Nim smile just a bit.
“Only by a year or so, and I'm almost sixteen, anyway, Trinia. Don't think yourself that much higher than me.” she said, and now it was Buggy who burst out laughing.
“Nim Nim's higher than Tri!” he squealed, and soon the whole group was laughing uncontrollably. When they finally settled down, Nim Nim smiled.
“Always the ten-year-old who gets the punch line.” she said, then frowned. “But really, if I ever catch any of you with drugs, I will bash your face in so hard...”
“Yep, Naomi's definitely the mom.” Tigger laughed.
***
Recording 1
Sparks, Anna
January 3rd, 2018
“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)”
***
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