Mara
I'm so shocked I'm starting to get disconnected to met feelings. I feel so.. Numb? Adrenaline is taking over and I can't think straight. Just to convince myself everything is normal, I go to the kitchen and sit down on the wooden stool that I used to stand on when I was little. It still smells like burned toast. An unfinished cup of tea lies on the counter, waiting to be finished. I don't drink tea. Instead of looking further, I stare at the toaster like it's the most interesting thing in the world. There's still a slice of bread inside, black around the edges. A phone is vibrating endlessly, impatiently trying to lure someone in to answer it.
I close the kitchen curtains, but the outside noises won't stop. I can still hear someone yelling loudly, but I can't make out what they are yelling. It's like I'm in a bubble with no connection to people. Then I just breathe as slow and steady as I can. It's slow, but shaky. In, out. In, out. One, two, three, four.. Oh, the commotion outside is worsening. It sounds like someone knows there's people here and might break a window at some point. I need to get Rowan and myself out of here.
When I hear car honking, my first thought is that someone is smart enough to flee using a car. I finally open the curtains just to see a red car parked with a door wide open. The light inside is still on, but nobody is inside. Damn it. Not so smart then. Or maybe just out of fuel. The curtains of the house next to mine move. Life. A dropped backpack lies on the street as someone is getting chased by an infected. Flashing red and blue lights fill my field of view before an ambulance drives past the window at a speed so high I can barely recognize it as an ambulance. But really I'm just standing here while it all happens. Maybe I'm the dumb one for not fleeing the scene earlier. I've calmed my mind enough to clear the adrenaline, so my passings thoughts aren't about society or fleeing. I think of Rowan. My sweet.. Well, annoying, but still sweet little brother. He's still in his room, probably safe. I'm not one to assume such things, though. Should he even be at home? Somewhere safe? School? A friend's house? A neighbor's house? Wait. I don't even know for sure. I should have kept track of him. He has to be safe and sound in his room, right..?
I get up and march out of the kitchen and straight to his room. It's dark. Even the curtains are closed, not letting in any light. "Hello?" I say while flipping the light switch. His room looks completely like it usually does. Everything in the room is perfectly arranged, which is unusual for a kid his age, but the owner is nowhere to be found. His backpack, usually on his bedside table, is gone. A lone page of his unfinished homework lies in an opened drawer. Opening his closet as well, I notice the shelf he uses to store his shoes is a mess and a pair is missing. The one for jackets looks equal. Someone screams outside again. That's it. I need to find him. I have no idea where he is, but I can't let him die out there.
I check the pockets of the hoodie I'm wearing. There's nothing. I leave Rowan's room to go to my own room so I can grab my old backpack. I open it and place it on the bed. There's an empty water bottle inside. It's been there since I quit sports. I take it and run the tap in the kitchen, filling it with fresh water. I place it inside and include a kitchen knife. Actually, I don't put the knife into the bag. I deliberately place it into my hoodie pocket just in case I get attacked and need backup. Then I don't know what else to take with me and just stare at the backpack. A bottle and a knife. That's all I'll need to survive on the way to find Rowan. I have water, but not food. I should take some too. I open the nearest cabinet, but quickly realize I have no idea what I'm looking for. I grab some crackers, an apple, a packet of cookies and leftover trail mix and shove them into the backpack, zipping it closed after the last item enters. I don't know how long those will last, but I know much less what I'm supposed to pack for an apocalypse.
Finally, I put on the backpack and walk though the hallway. I pass Rowan's room again. The house is way more quiet than it has ever been. It's like I'm being hunted down by the silence. Even if it has no mouth, it still feels deadly. The sounds outside are getting louder. It's reaping my ears to make sure even they can't get away without suffering. Sirens are wailing. Clearly people know the situation, but everyone is in panic. Even faint gunshots can be heard in the distance. When I open the door, it all gets worse. I'm lucky the yard is empty, but the sounds get much worse when there's no barrier between me and the source. The sounds are not the only anomaly. Even the air is screaming something is wrong. It's full of foggy musk, but I can stil l see quite clearly. I see a neighbor throwing things into the trunk of a car and a rusty bike abandoned on the road.
I head towards the street I know the best. He should be at school. It's the most likely place he would be. Everything feels strange, but it's not because of the chaos around me. It's the normal people around me making me feel uneasy. I walk past neoughbours packing cars, shouting their kids' names and insisting everything is fine and they just need to go on a vacation. Of course, everyone is dealing with it differently. Someone is probably still sitting at home reading a newspaper and insisting the whole thing is fake news until an infected breaks the window.
But I can't continue walking to the school. My way is blocked by the road being crowded by crashed cars and people around them. Even emergency vehicles are crashed and sirens are blaring. I need to take a side path, but I still get there as quickly as I can. When I finally get to the gate, I notice it's shut and I can't open it. When I peek into the school area, I see staff emerging from the building. Police cars are outside the school, but I don't know how they have gotten there and what has happened in there. Soon, a police officer comes out of the building with someone else. That person doesn't look okay. Thry were actively trying to get their jaw near the officer with no result and were walking weakly. I could swear I see some kind of a liquid coming out of their mouth, but I can't be sure. I'm pretty near-sighted.
I jolt when someone touches my shoulder. I turn around to see the janitor of the elementary school. His long white beard can't be mistaken.
"School's closed," he says to me. But someone interprets.
"No. They're keeping the kids there," Rowan's first grade teacher, maybe called Samantha, tells us.
They begin arguing with eachoter and I don't know who to believe. Both of them have usually been sweet to my family. Either could know more, or even give the same information from different perspectives. My stomach aches from stress. In the end, Rowan is probably stuck in the school.