N87 Virus | Book 1 | After the Outbreak Kadin, Karri (booksvooks TXT) 📖

girl. The one memory so fuzzy it was as if her own body was begging her not to remember it. By the time she was done hours had passed and her hand ached from overuse. She had filled dozens of pages but still had so many empty ones. She felt a weight lift from her soul, and for the first time since she awoke in the woods, she was herself again, not the monster, but just Allison.

She looked to the counter where she saw the peach pie on a cooling rack. She didn’t remember Sandra coming back into the kitchen to pull it from the oven. It was dusk outside; the setting sun filled the sky with orange and red hues. It was beautiful. She could see Sandra and Dave on an old wood swinging bench on the back porch right outside the window. They were laughing and smiling, something Allison had never seen before. Dave kissed Sandra, and they looked at each other the way only two people truly in love can look at each other. Despite N87, despite the death, despite Allison, the world still had some wonderful things in it. There were things worth living for, fighting for. Love being at the top of the list.

That night Allison rested in bed, stomach full of peach pie, and she thought about her future. Each day she stayed at the farm was another day without knowing what happened to her family, to Gabby. A lump formed in her throat as she imagined the people she loved being victims of hungry Infected or of N87 itself. The thought of finding her family and Gabby alive spread a smile across Allison’s face. But if they were still alive, she would have to tell them what she had done, the monster she had become. Allison’s heart skipped in her chest as she imagined her mother’s eyes filling with disgust and sadness as Allison told her she had once been infected, that she was a murderer. I have to make it better. I have to make myself better. Tears soaked Allison’s lace pillow as she drew up her redemption plan.

After running through different scenarios in her head, Allison knew there was only one thing to do to rid herself of her guilt. There was only one thing she could do to be able to face her family, to make the daily chanting of monster, monster, monster in her head stop. She had to face the demon from her dreams. She had to face herself. That meant facing those she hurt, those she killed. She had to accept what she was. Or end it. She couldn’t live like this.

She snuck down the hall, making sure Sandra and Dave’s door was shut. She listened to the deep snoring coming from within before she headed to the kitchen. With her journal in hand, she pulled a set of maps from a drawer. She spread the first map on the table with her journal open on top and continued to formulate her plan.

That next morning over plates of biscuits and salt pork, Allison told Dave and Sandra she would be leaving.

“Where will you go?” Dave asked.

“I’m not sure. I was hoping you could help me with that. I’ve been looking over maps all night, but I’m not sure where I need to go exactly. I want to find my family and friends. But I have something I need to do first,” Allison said in-between bites of biscuit. “I want to own up to what I’ve done. I need to find the people I’ve hurt, or the families of the people I hurt. I need to apologize. I need to show them I’m not a monster,” Allison paused. “I need to show myself I’m not a monster.” She dropped her biscuit to her plate and leaned back in her chair, twisting a section of her hair tightly around her finger.

“Oh, honey,” Sandra said, placing her hand on Allison’s arm and patting it gently. “You are not a monster. You didn’t have control over yourself. You are not responsible for the things you did while you were Infected.”

“I am responsible. I can’t live with it if I don’t try to make amends.” Allison pushed her empty plate away from her and sighed.

“How do you suppose you would do that? It’s not like you know the names of these people,” Sandra said.

“I remember things. Like street signs and names on stores. I’m hoping if I can find those spots, the places I remember the most, I can backtrack to find the rest.” Allison pushed her empty plate away. Dave sat silently staring at his plate of food, rhythmically tapping his thumb on the table.

Sandra grabbed Allison’s plate and took it to the sink. “It seems unrealistic to me,” she said, keeping her back to Allison.

“Has it occurred to you that most people will not be receptive to your apology? That you are being selfish by even trying?” Dave questioned, finally looking up from the table with a stern look on his face.

“Dave! I don’t think—” Sandra began to say but her husband interrupted her.

“The people you hurt don’t want your apology. You showing up will just be a terrible reminder of what they lost. Some may want to hurt you as revenge for the things you did to them. It is not easy for people to forgive those who have killed their loved ones or nearly killed them! This would not be a safe, smart, or compassionate thing for you to do. It’s selfish, plain and simple.” Dave clenched his fist and the rhythmic tapping of his thumb stopped as he leaned back in his chair, keeping his gaze on Allison.

“I’m not trying to be selfish. I feel I can bring people closure.” Allison slumped in her chair. “The risk of me getting hurt is worth bringing others and myself that closure.”

“It’s a genuine possibility someone could kill you if you do this little plan of yours. And