Chapter 1

Lyn

My father and me were in a small room, the cabinet
of Dr. Kin, whom I visited every other day for my checkup. There was a small
chair for waiting, a blue layback chair in the middle, a green counter along
the wall and a large machine in the corner of the room that took up a large
amount of space. Off of the large, metal machine hung many wires of all sort of
colors. On it was a screen of about a normal size of paper, on which the bright
green words UNCONNECTED were blinking. I had been in this room many times, and
still felt uncomfortable in it. Maybe it was the fact that the machine that
stood in the room predicted the amount of time left for me to live every other
day.

Dr. Kin took a wire with a suction cup at the end, and stuck it on me. Immediately
the words on the screen of the machine changed to CONNECTED. I fidgeted. Dr.
Kin flipped the switch on the machine, and the screen went black for a second,
then all sorts of random numbers appeared on it moving up and down the screen,
getting multiplied, divided, added, subtracted. The numbers raced on the
screen, disappearing in the middle of it, appearing in the corner.

The machine rumbled and then beeped. Dr. Kin unhooked me as the machine
beeped again, showing that it was preparing the results. I hated this part,
waiting to see in how much time I would die. Dr. Kin cleared his throat.

“Um, Lyn, my dear, we haven’t discovered the
antidote for the virus yet, so um… this will probably be the last checkup…” He
trailed off. I faked a laugh. First of all, everybody knew that Dr. Kin and his
assistant would not be able to develop a cure. Second of all, everybody knew I
would die of the virus. Recently, well, who am I kidding, it was six moths ago.
Anyway, half a year ago, a terrible virus breakout happened. Half the world was
infected. A deadly virus it was, and there was no cure at all so far. Not even
anything to delay it. My mother died because of the virus, and then I was
infected. It started off with a simple cold, but the symptoms evolved. Strangely
I didn’t feel so bad. I mean physically I didn’t feel bad; emotionally, that I
was going to die soon didn’t cheer me up that much. Symptoms didn’t feel so bad
on me. I mean, I felt a little drowsy, with some vomiting, but…

  Anyway, I
had everything planned out. While the doctor and my father waited for my
results, I excused myself out of the room to “roam around the hospital”. I left
behind a note under the crack of the door, hoping my father would find it when
I was gone. The halls of the hospital were all the same, plain, white walls,
with white tiles on the floor, and multiple doors lining the halls. I followed
the red exit signs to the door that led out to the field. Feeling anxious, I
started sprinting. I pushed open the door and a blast of cold air hit me. The
field was large. Two times the size of a normal football field. I continued
running.

My body was weak, and soon I was out of breath. I dropped to a crawl,
dragging myself across the field. The large, dark, gloomy forest lay ahead of
me. The pine trees so tall I had to crane my head back almost all the way. The
coyotes howled in the forest even though it was midday. I reached the end of
the field where an electric fence stood, preventing tigers and wolfs from
coming out onto hospital grounds.

Using my hands, I started digging out a small hole under the fence,
just large enough for me to shimmy through. I fit myself under the fence,
careful not to make the slightest contact with it. I was on the other side of
the fence now, in the forest. I shuddered, there might be some vicious predator
eyeing me right now. I shook the thought out of my head. Quickly, I pushed the
dirt I had dug out of the hole back into it. Then I stood up, turned around,
and proceeded into the forest.

*  *  *

Dr. Kin and Lyn’s father stood out on the field, a blank look on Lyn’s
father’s face.

“She left a note under the door Max, here take a
look.” Dr. Kin said handing Lyn’s father, Max a note.

It
wasn’t your fault

“What do suppose that means?” Max asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Where is she? Do you know that?”

Dr. Kin paused, then replied,

“I suppose she ran of into the forest.”

“The forest?!” Max cried out.

“Yeah. We have found footprints… and what we think
are crawl marks leading there.” Dr. Kin said delicately.

“How would she get past the fence?”

“Under.”

“Under?”

“Under.” Dr. Kin confirmed plainly.

“What, well- wha- uh, are you going to do
something?”

“What’s the point?”

“Excuse me? What’s the point? What’s the
point?! She ran of and I want to find her, the point is.”

“Something has probably already attacked her anyway,
and…”

“Wait a minute, what did the machine say? Is she…
dead already?” Max asked, slowly, dropping his gaze. The doctor flinched.

“The results are unlike any other. At first the
results were inconclusive. Then I repeated the test - with the same DNA and
blood sample we had taken, of course- and the results were that she was 99.987%
infected, meaning she had about 2 ½ hours to live-“

“So she is dead.” Lyn’s father’s voice wavered.

“You didn’t let me finish. So at first, the results
inconclusive, then 99.987% infected. I decided it was time to get some lunch,
when I returned, the machine read virus cleared.”