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

to see an alive face that I’m inventing a mission to complete, I’m imagining people to give me something to do. But of course, that’s just me being negative, so I always force these thoughts to one side. When I actually meet these people, I bet they’ll be so surprised about everything I’ve been through to get to them. I wonder if they’ll have stories anywhere near as interesting as mine.
    The one good thing to come out of this constant battling with zombies is that my fighting skills have improved immensely. There’s no way the group could reject me, I think I’ll be a brilliant asset. I don’t think anyone would really be cruel enough to leave me out in the cold in this situation anyway. That’s just another concept that I’ve seen in films that I’m trying to apply to my real life.
    I wait anxiously for the light to start streaming through the clouds and start moving the second it does. I’m stiff for my first few steps because of the ball I’ve spent the last few hours curled up in, trying to keep in body heat, but I’m building myself up to be full of determination. I need to be strong today; I need to get through it. I’ve got to get into that church; I don’t want another sleepless night. I can’t survive it, I won’t. It’ll damn near kill me.
    As soon as my feet hit the streets, I take off running, praying that the sound of my shoes pumping against the concrete doesn’t bring the zombies out from their hiding place too quickly. This is one of the paths I attempted yesterday and I killed a lot along the way, so in theory it should be pretty empty. Of course, that doesn’t always work in practice. As I reach a street corner, I pant, pinning myself against a wall, waiting. Listening intently. I peek around the corner quick as possible and the sight before me stops me in my tracks.
    Another message. Another note from E, written in what looks like paint, across a wall.
     
    I’m still here. E.
     
    E was here? Why would E be here and not meeting me at the airport like the note promised? I look around, trying to see if anyone is anywhere in sight. Nothing. Whoever it is could be dead by now. Realistically, E could be just another zombie. Even so, I can’t stop my legs from automatically walking towards the letters. I instinctively reach up to run my fingers over the paint, to allow thoughts of another lonely person surviving this nightmare run through my brain. I wonder what happened for E to get left behind. I wonder if the story behind these notes is similar to mine.
    When I look down at my fingers I’m amazed to see them white. This note is new.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 23
     
     
    ETHAN
     
    I can’t stand it. I can’t take it for another damn second. This is horrible. Being alone is driving me insane!
    Every single day I wish that I’d been brave that day I went to the airport. I know it seemed like a dangerous decision to get on a plane with all of those people, and all of the unknowns at the time—but is this really any better?
    I keep leaving notes around town, just praying that someone, anyone will eventually see one of them and come rescue me from this hell. But nothing. No one. I know I should probably give up and accept that it’s just me, but it’s too much of a horrifying prospect.
    Me and them .
    That can’t be it. I can’t be all that’s left.
    I thought for a while that people may return. That if anyone did survive, they might return to England to look for any other survivors, or to cure the infected, or even to have another go at living here. But it seems that I was wrong. It’s been such a long time and I haven’t seen a single soul.
    I spent a short while considering suicide. I can’t live in this world; I’m just not strong enough. I remember the day I stood there, a rusty blade in my hand. I ran it along my neck, willing this whole nightmare to be over. I was ready to die. I tried to push it in; I attempted to apply some pressure. That’s all