The Virus, Lee, Damien [summer beach reads .txt] 📗

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to check him over?”

She watched as the warm smile returned to Norman’s face.

“You’re too kind,” he said. “But I doubt the old man would ever forgive me. He’ll be mortified when he finds out I’ve called a doctor. He’s a proud man.”

Amy chuckled and nodded her head.

“I blame that meat he insists on buying from the farmer’s market,” Norman continued. “He’s been under the weather ever since he made a beef stew!”

“Did he cook it thoroughly?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I’m a vegetarian. I can’t even go near the kitchen when he’s cooking.”

“You and me both.” Amy laughed. “Well, if you need anything at all, you know where I am.”

“Thank you.”

A distant shriek in the distance caused both of them to flinch. Amy looked in the direction of the noise, but houses shrouded the source. She looked back at Norman, who grimaced as another noise reached them.

“I hope it doesn’t escalate here,” he said.

“Hope what doesn’t escalate?”

“Haven’t you heard? The riots might have spilled into Cranston. Some guy was causing trouble, attacking random people, just like everywhere else. I heard he was trying to bite people!”

Amy felt the knot in her stomach tighten as images of the massacre came back to her. She saw her colleague’s lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling as the cleaner tore into her flesh.

“I know,” Norman said, reading Amy’s look of horror. “I couldn’t believe it. He was dragging people out of cars and everything. But apparently he was hit by a bus. My sister’s there now. I’ve just got off the phone with her.”

Amy clasped a hand to her mouth. She had witnessed the aftermath of the carnage, but if she had been any earlier, she may have been attacked as well. She composed herself as a concerned look appeared on Norman’s face.

“I wouldn’t worry,” he said. “As far as I know, the police have the matter under control.”

Amy nodded and offered him a weak smile. “I’ll see you later, Norman.”

He raised a hand in farewell as Amy stepped through her front door. The air inside the shady confines of her house was cool. She sighed, feeling more at ease under its medicating touch. Although the demented cannibal was still fresh in her mind, she felt all the better for being in the refuge of her own home and away from the hospital. Just distancing herself from the massacre was a step towards recovery.

Dropping her keys on a nearby unit, she made her way up the stairs, glancing out the window as she went. She saw her neighbour tending to a new patch of his garden, apparently unconcerned about the noise they had heard. She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that he was right. The police had the situation under control when she arrived at the accident. The tightness in her chest eased as she continued up the stairs.

She headed to her room and slumped on the bed. The morning sun had warmed the covers, instilling a sense of drowsiness as it permeated her skin. Despite only working half her shift, she felt exhausted. Too drained to remove her clothes or even close the curtains, she drifted off to sleep.

She awoke with a start several hours later. The sun had moved position, but its warmth still lingered in the room. She was unsure what had stirred her, but decided against going back to sleep. If she slept through the rest of the afternoon, she would be awake until the early hours. She dragged herself out of bed, undressing as she made her way to the bathroom. A chill swept up her back, causing her to shiver as she started the shower. She ran her hands through her long brown hair, savouring the fresh touch of the spray. The patter of water hitting her feet eradicated all other noise. All except a distant, panicked cry which sounded outside. Amy turned her ear towards the window. There was no further noise.

Ten minutes later she felt revitalised. She stepped out of the shower with her mind almost free of the horrors she had witnessed. She wrapped herself in a towel and tied another into a turban on her head before heading out of the bathroom. The sound of her mobile phone split the silent atmosphere downstairs. Amy made for the staircase but felt the fold of her towel come loose. Catching its end before it fell, she wrapped the towel tighter and ignored the call. Whoever it was could wait five minutes until she got dressed. With that, she entered her bedroom and slipped into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and an old T-shirt.

The sun’s rays glared through the open window, and it was only then that she realised she had not drawn her curtains. She shot an anxious glance towards Norman’s house and the window level with hers. Thankfully, his curtains were closed with no sign of a voyeur. She looked down into the yard and saw Norman had finished his gardening and had started his other favourite pass-time; sunbathing. She looked back at his house. A stumbling figure came into view as he emerged from the conservatory. It was Norman’s father. He appeared groggy as his faltering steps took him into the garden.

The ringing of her mobile phone stole Amy’s attention. She bounded downstairs to answer the call. She located her handbag at the bottom and retrieved the handset from within. The ringing stopped.

“Damn.”

A frown creased her face as she read the screen. She’d had four calls from the hospital and two from her mother. There was also a voicemail left. Perplexed, Amy sat down and listened to the message.

“Hello, Amy!” The frantic voice was that of her manager. “I know you’ve been through a lot today and I’m