AM13 Outbreak Series (Book 2): Forgotten by Samie Sands

I’ll be glad to have some new specimens to work with. I don’t think I can learn much more from the current seven now that they’re in the final stage.
    I don’t think the board is fully aware of what a challenge they’ve set me. I’m running dangerous tests, with no prior knowledge in this specific area, all by myself. This isn’t even my personal area of expertise. They would be better off with a virologist.
    And the worst part of it is none of it makes any damn sense!

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 22
     
     
    ALYSSA
     
    I’m starting to get really fed up and annoyed with my situation. I keep thinking back to how things were at the B and B with regret. Why did I succumb to boredom there? There’s so much I could’ve been doing, if I’d really thought about it. I got so lazy. I wasted so much time bitterly wanting to be out, experiencing more of the zombie apocalypse. How naïve. At least I didn’t leave until I was forced to. I’d be banging my head against a brick wall by now if I’d made this mistake any earlier. It was such a better quality of life. Memories of the home comforts of warm sheets, comfy chairs, and plush carpets beneath my feet almost brought tears to my eyes.
    To think I was actually glad to be forced out, to have run out of food. Now I’m bloody starving, I haven’t slept for days, and I’m no closer to the church. There are people inside that building though, I’m sure of it. I become more certain every passing moment. I can’t think of any other reason why the zombies would hang around outside without moving for days on end. Whoever is in there is quite smart, though. They must be being quiet to ensure the crowd doesn’t grow bigger. I wonder why they haven’t done anything to dispel it yet. It must be rough living with that racket going on outside. I’m surprised that I haven’t seen anyone yet; don’t they need to go on supply runs or something? I wouldn’t have thought that a church is prepared for this sort of situation.
    I’ve spent the last three days desperately trying to get to the middle of the town where my destination lays, but with no luck. I think hunger and fatigue could be affecting my decisions and reflexes. I’ve tried getting there a number of different ways, but everything seems to be against me. I seem to run into a wall of zombies on every street corner. I return to the top of this hill each day as the light begins to fade because I don’t fancy my chances out there in the dark. I’m at a massive disadvantage then because I struggle with my vision, whereas the zombies just carry on as normal. Their eyes obviously no longer work in the same way as ours. I didn’t need to research that, it’s obvious from their behaviour.
    I sit every night, shivering violently in the icy breeze. I’m far too frightened to go to sleep; I’m not ashamed to admit that. I hate being exposed and vulnerable. I can’t relax without four walls to protect me. I feel like I could start hallucinating soon I’m that tired now, but then again that could just be my dramatic flair speaking. I’m not going to last much longer if I carry on this way. I really don’t want to die in such a meaningless, pathetic way. If I have to go, I’d much prefer it to be in a blaze of glory—not just because I was a little knackered.
    As I try to plan the route for tomorrow, I can’t help but notice again that from up here, the roaming zombies seem scarce. When I get in the midst of it though, it’s a whole different story. I don’t know if that’s my perception or if they get excited by my scent and appear from every nook and cranny. Either way, I’m going to have to find a way around it soon. I pass the dark hours away, trying to plan. Always planning, that’s what I said, right? Always planning is the key to survival.
    All I really want to think about is the people inside the church. I want to meet them so badly. In my darker moments, I tell myself that I’m so desperate