N87 Virus | Prequel |Outbreak Kadin, Karri (best english novels for beginners txt) 📖

Thank you,

Joe Berna

Next to the note was a decorative cut out in the wall with a large gold cross displayed. Keys with the Jeep emblem, a wallet, a box of bullets, and a handgun set next to it. Veronica watched as the man, Joe, fought against the chains trying to reach her. The metal dug into his skin, leaving oozing ulcers in spots. The wounds looked infected. Sepsis would take him before starvation. A horrible way to die. She read his note again and sighed. She patted Timber’s head.

“He can’t hurt us. It’s alright.”

She grabbed the keys, the box of bullets, and shoved the gun into her waistband. She backed away from the hall and Timber followed. Joe continued to growl and writhe in the chains.

“Thanks for the Jeep, Joe.”

Veronica and Timber slipped quietly from the house. Veronica hit the unlock button on the key fob and the lights on the Jeep flashed. Jackpot. She and Timber stayed hidden in the shadows, watching the street, but it remained still. They rushed over to the Jeep and Veronica flung open the door. She pointed inside and Timber bounded into the seat and she followed him. The engine revved to life, and she flipped the headlights off. Once the Jeep was parked in her driveway, she hurried and packed her supplies into the backseat. She locked the Jeep, double checking it by pulling on the handle, then she and Timber curled up on her bed for her last night ever at home.

Timber stretched out across the tile floor, chewing on the last bits of his breakfast. Veronica sat next to him as she redressed her wound. The bite seemed to be improving and remained infection free. Most importantly, she didn’t find any black veins. She had scrutinized her body while showering, expecting to find some trace of infection. Tears filled her eyes when she found none. A combination of relief and grief swept over her, sending her to the shower floor in a crying heap until the water ran ice cold.

Her mind raced when she thought about what that could mean. She wanted some time to sit and think about this unexpected development, but she had a pickup site to get to. If the symptoms started, Veronica would end her life, of that she was sure. She refused to be one of the monsters. The sun was just rising when she turned on the TV, only to find static. The random live feeds and videos must have stopped streaming during the night. She tapped the internet icon on her phone and an error message popped up. She scrolled through her recent calls and hit her brother’s name. No service.

“Fuck!” She threw the phone across the room and it landed near the door. Timber tilted his head to the side and stared at her. “What are you looking at?”

Veronica stretched out her maps across the table and reviewed her route. She took a roll of packing tape from the junk drawer and piecemealed the pages together to make one cohesive map. She covered every inch of paper with the clear tape with the hopes it would make the map slightly waterproof and more durable. The world was in its death throes, and the only thing certain was that this would be the road trip from hell.

Veronica took her antibiotic and swirled the last two pills around in the bottle before shoving it into her pocket. The room was starting to smell like rotten meat. She breathed through her mouth and suppressed her tears. Tightness crushed her chest as her grief raged, begging to be set free. Three years ago, when Veronica was finishing up college, she worked at a little funeral home. After they had been closed for three days to celebrate the Fourth of July, she was the first to arrive at the embalming room and was greeted with that smell. All the mortuary fridges had gone out and the Georgia heat had worked its disgusting magic. She would never forget that smell. Now that smell was her Mi Vida. She stared at the white sheet now covered with dark wet areas from the beginnings of decomp. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Timber whined and nudged her hand. She looked down and his big, sweet eyes stared up at her. She rubbed him behind the ear and he licked her arm in return. A small, gold picture frame on the TV console caught her eye. Alejandro was smiling as he held the camera above his head. Veronica was right next to him, looking off to the side, wearing her resting bitch face. Alejandro loved that photo and told everyone it was the perfect reflection of their opposite personalities. He took that picture right before he proposed. He had always loved her, flaws and all. Her hands ran down the beveled sides of the metal frame before she picked it up and clutched it to her chest. She held the memory to her heart as she cried.

The sun was fully up now, and Veronica knew she was wasting time she didn’t have. She popped open the back of the frame, pulled the picture out, and slid it into her back pocket. She patted her leg and Timber was at her side in an instant. On her way out the door, she picked up her cell and stuck it in her pocket next to the picture. She pulled closed the door, painted wishful blue after months of agonizing over the color, and didn’t look back.

The drive through town was unnerving. Cars parked, doors wide open, in the middle of the street. Most store windows on Main Street were shattered with the contents inside obviously looted. No people. No Infected. Nothing.

The gas gauge showed a little over half a tank. Veronica hoped that was enough to get her where she needed to go, but this tank probably guzzled