Despite my awful driving, it doesn’t take me long to get back to my house. I don’t know what else to do, and I know I’m not in the right mindset to even think about other options, so to me, going back to a familiar place seems like the best option. I’ve never had to properly look after myself before. I know that I’m seventeen, and I’m really smart but I’ve always relied on my parents when it comes to tough situations. When anything freaks me out, I usually quit. As soon as I turned seventeen a few months ago, I almost hit a bus during a driving lesson and refused to go anywhere near the wheel since. I pull into our driveway and turn the engine off, picking up Effie and getting out of the car. I slide the keys into my pocket and head to the front door. I bend down to pick the spare keys out from under the plant pot and open the door.
As soon as I walk in, I lock the door behind me, bolting it for extra reassurance. To calm my nerves, I walk around the entirety of the house, double checking that all of the windows and outside doors are closed and locked. I make myself a hot drink and head upstairs to my bedroom, hoping that I can think of a way out of Newcastle without drawing too much attention to myself, and without having to contact anyone. I check my phone to see if I can call any of my family who live on the other side of the country, but I can’t get any service. I guess all communication has been shut off, not just at the airport. I close my curtains and turn off my main light, keeping my bedside light on.
Unable to sleep, I turn my TV on and slide a DVD into the player. I watch as Tangled plays, only half-heartedly paying attention. I’ve seen it about a hundred times but I can’t watch Netflix as the internet has also been shut down. My eyes watch the screen numbly until the scene on the boats. I always find it the most emotional scene, but as I watch, the tears begin to fall down my cheeks and all of the emotion builds up. It strikes me that I am fully alone here, with no way of contacting anyone in a way that won’t bring unwanted attention. The sobs wrack my body, exhausting me completely. Before the film even finishes, I fall asleep, my head pounding and my heart aching.
A few hours later, I wake up with dry tear tracks down my face. Unwilling to take a shower, I go downstairs to get some water and look for any food. Mum and Dad took all of the crisps we had last night, as well as the cereal bars. I look in the cupboards for anything easy. Once cooked, I take my beans on toast back upstairs with a glass of water and turn my TV on. I flick through my DVDs on the shelf and pick three out, preparing myself for a movie day. The only time I move from my bed that day is either to get some food, use the toilet or change the film. Despite thinking it through all day, I still have no idea how to get out of Newcastle. I assume many of the roads out will be blocked, all transport is off, and I can’t even call the police to try to rescue me. The only potential way I’d be able to get out is to use one of the boats in the Tyne, but I assume they were all taken out by their owners, and even if they weren’t, I don’t know how to drive one. Besides, I’d prefer to stay away from the Tyne as I don’t particularly want to spend too long outside where those...things are.
I could probably try to get communications up and running again, but I don’t know where I would do that from. I also have no clue as to why they’ve been cut off, whether it was planned to deter the zombies or whether the zombies themselves did it. According to Jonathan’s findings, the serum was going to enhance their intelligence as well as their strength and reflexes. This leaves me in a bigger disadvantage than I had presumed so I really have no idea what to do other than wait it out. This of course, would lead me to going insane. I suddenly remember the texts he sent me before communications got shut down, so I grab my phone to read through them.
Hi Matty. Bc everything is tits up and idk when we’ll next see each other, I thought I’d fill you in. The serum has a whole bunch of links. It’s medical, chemical, biological, physiological and technological all in one. I didn’t even know that was a thing tbh.
It’s designed to affect literally every cell in the body. Makes you stronger, faster, more intelligent, more willing to kill. But it wasn’t meant to make them killers. They were still meant to have control and their morals intact, they were just meant to not feel guilt in the field. Idk how it got approved bc it sounds like some proper fkd up stuff. Just like you said.
They called it Fomucobe-20 or FMCB-20 for short, and referred to the volunteers as Metamorphics (probs bc of the whole changing thing). It went massively wrong. Idk I guess it was too much at once and their neurological functions short-circuited and they had no aggression filter. They’re smarter, stronger, faster. But they’re no longer human. I guess some scientists might try to find a cure, but from what I can gather, most of the data was on papers in the military base, the one that’s next to the Tyne. And as you could see, the scientists in charge were not exactly okay.
That’s pretty much all I could find, but I guess it was enough? Like I said, idk when I’m going to see you again, so I hope you get out alright and I hope it’s not too long before we get back to normality. Take care Matty :)
Great. So I’m trapped here with a bunch of super strong psychos. Perfect. I genuinely can’t believe this fucking thing got approved. It doesn’t take a genius to realise how fucked up the serum is! Unknowingly, Jonathan has essentially just told me I’m dead. So. That’s fun. My hands are shaking again, and my mind starts picturing me getting mauled to death by those fucking things. I picture my Mum and Dad. Sofia and Oliver. As they realised I’m stuck. Knowing that I’m dead. Having to mourn me. My chest tightens and my throat constricts. I try to gasp for air, my head pounding and my hands still shaking. My whole body begins to feel numb. And then I remember Oliver. Breathe, I picture him saying. Come on Matty, breathe. In and out. Just like that. Come on, Matty. You can do it. You can survive. You’re stronger than you know. In and out. I take his advice, once again breathing in and out. It takes longer this time, but I eventually get back to normal. My heart is still pounding, and my hands are still shaking a little. But I can at least think straight. It’s going to be a shit time if I keep having these fucking panic attacks.
* * *
I fall asleep later that night watching another film. I have no idea how I’m going to spend my time trapped here, but for the moment, binging DVDs seems like a fairly decent option. The next few days is just a repeat. Wake up. Cry. Eat. Watch films. Bath. Eat. Watch more films. Sleep. I never open the curtains once. The only rooms I go into are the kitchen, my en-suite and my bedroom. I stay away from my family’s bedrooms because I know it’ll just make me miss them even more. It isn’t until the fifth day that I decide I need to go out. I’m beginning to feel claustrophobic in here, and I know I’m running out of food. We hadn’t done a big shop for a while, and we’d planned to do one on Saturday. It’s Tuesday now, and I’ve run out of almost everything I like. We have extra loafs of bread in the freezer, but I plan to keep those until absolutely necessary. I need sunlight and fresh air, and there’s a shop just down the street. It’s just a one with a crappy lock, and I’ve picked a few locks in my time. I decided to teach myself once after I got locked in the school’s supply closet and had what I now realise was a panic attack as I’m severely claustrophobic. I decided then and there that I had to know how to get out of - and I guess into - locked places.
I quickly shower and change, making a note to myself to do some washing when I get back and I grab my lock-picking set that I ordered two years ago. Trying to stay hidden from any view as I walk down the street, I pick up my pace, anxiously wanting to be home soon. It doesn’t take me long once I’m there to get the door open, and I quickly peruse the shelves. I take a bunch of stuff that expires soon, including bread and milk. I’ll leave most things with a far-off sell-by-date just in case I’m here for a while. I drop everything straight into the bags I brought and make my way out of here as fast as I can, hoping I don’t need to come back for another week or so. I all but run home, instantly breathing a sigh of relief when I step through the front door. I lock and bolt it again, leaning my forehead against the solid wood and taking a moment to clear my head. Taking the bags to the kitchen, I begin to unpack everything and sort the food into the cupboards or fridge.
Deciding I’d rather not spend a whole day watching movies again, I head to the gym room. I suppose if I’m trapped in Newcastle, it can’t do me any harm to do some exercise. The more I train, the faster I can get to and from the shop. On the treadmill, I gradually build up speed and increase the incline. This is my strategy for half an hour, and then I start running at a constant pace. I have quite a high endurance as I would dance for long periods of time with no breaks, impressing even my dance teacher. I run for an hour before my legs can’t hold me up anymore. I take a long drink of water and examine the room around me. Sofia’s gym beam is at the side of the room surrounded by mats, the treadmill is at one end of the room next to a bike machine, Oliver’s punching bag is hanging up in the corner, his gloves and skipping rope lying next to it, and a few sets of weights line a wall. It’s a small gym, with only a few items, but it’s helpful and efficient.
I decide not to do any more in the gym today, but as I’m leaving the room, a small box catches my eye. Walking over to it, I see that it’s filled with old DVDs with all of our names on. I pick some up and read the covers, realising they’re all videos of our competitions, rehearsals and training. Picking the box up, I take it into the living room to organise. If this is all of their training, it might be useful to me. I sort each tape into a pile based on whose it is. This way, I can watch them and try to do as they do, hopefully picking up on some skills and techniques.
I can’t help but laugh. Out of all of the people to get left behind, it's me. Yeah, so I’m the smartest out of my siblings, but I’m the least efficient when it comes to life or death situations. I don’t have any skills that could potentially save my life, and they’ve always been more independent than me. Oliver can fight like hell due to the intense training throughout his life, and Sofia’s done gymnastics for years, meaning her balance is impeccable. She’s essentially the least clumsy person I know, mixed with someone who can run for miles without stopping or falling. She’s basically superhuman. It would be the dancer left behind, not the boxer or the cross-country runner. What can I do against the Metamorphics? Tap dance my way out?
After sorting the tapes into piles, I carefully repack them into the box and move it closer to the TV. I head upstairs to get all of the dirty clothes so that I can do something useful and do some washing. It takes me three loads until all of the laundry is done, and by the time I’m finished sorting everything out, it’s almost evening. Sick of eating beans on toast for days, I make a cheese sauce with the food I bought today and cook it with some pasta we have in the cupboard. I wash all of the dishes and return to my room for the night to watch a film before falling asleep.