CHAPTER 2 – AWAKENING

The first thing you noticed would be the light at the end.

If an unborn child were to have the ability to perceive, then that would be what it could perceive. The journey to being born would be just that, a journey towards the light. From the dark and clammy confines of the womb to the warmth and breeze of the world; from the wet and foul smelling prison to freedom to breath the worldly scent of life.

 Life is the light at the end of the beginning.

 If a newly born child were to have the ability to see from behind closed eyes, then that would be what he could see. The first time he opens his eyes, light would fill him, blind him. He would be disoriented, confused. Splattered random shapes coalesced into the yet to be known form of people that would love him, and he would grow to love them back. Love would make their bond stronger, love would make him stronger. Love would bind them together.

 Love is the light at the beginning of life.

 But he had known no light.

 He knows only darkness.

 From the very beginning that he became aware, he was aware of one thing and one thing only. Darkness. At first, he did not even notice it as being dark. He accepted it as the norm, for he knew of nothing else. Then, his overdeveloped mind starts to question, “There should be more than this. There must be more.” He did not yet understand nor comprehend what should be in place of the dark, but he knew, he was sure of it.

“There must be more”.

So, with that blind surety, he started to put all his might into discovering beyond the darkness. All his strength, however diluted, however mild, was put into concentrating, trying to break the limit of the limitless. 

But light would not come.

He tried to make sense of the void that surrounds him. He tried to understand the bubble that trapped him. He tried, with all his might, he tried.

 Still, the light would not come.

He started to notice that he was not just corporeal, but had definition. Slowly, through the dark, he could make out the outline of his self. With that realisation, he shifted his concentration inward. He figured before he could discover the darkness that surrounded him, he needed to discover himself. He needed to learn to accept the life within him. With that acceptance, he would, hopefully learn the love that should be inside him.

For love is the light at the beginning of life, and life, is the light at the end of the beginning.

 And he is the start of that beginning.

 ***

Chapter 1 - Epidemic

Greenway Promenade had always had a veneer of calm. Lush green hedges bordered each houses, providing both a sense of privacy and individuality. Sweet songs from colourful birds made up more than a lovely wakeup call every morning. Its residents were made up of mostly business, corporate or wealthy family. There were no dark corners, no dodgy alleys, and no chancy cafes. In fact, there was only one diner at the end of the road, Dave’s Diner.

Dave’s Diner was not your typical eatery. Since they cater to the upmarket, the diner was always posh, clean and quiet. A wonderful array of polished marbles statuettes of Roman god’s that lined a floor to ceiling glass divided the diner into two sections; smoking and non smoking. Usually, there was the usual chatter of its patrons, the clangs of fork and spoons against plates and the occasional “Order up!” from the kitchen.

Not today though.

Today, there was an eerie silence that hangs in the air. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Cooks stood just outside of the swing doors to the kitchen, waitresses stopped dead in their tracks to send orders, and patrons staring opened mouth, some of them with their food hanging in front of them, midway from the plate to their mouth.

All eyes were fixed on the television set that hung on top of the bar.

“...the Health Minister has assured the public that the infections are contained and under control. He has also said that the public need not worry and can still go about their daily business.

On a related note, so far, 253 people have been infected with the unknown virus with more than 40 dead. All victims showed the same symptoms, starting with mild fever, full body rashes, bloody nose, ears and eyes, speech impediment and amnesia. Those with these one or more symptoms are advised to go and have a full medical check up at the nearest clinic or hospital.

And now, let’s go to Andy with the sports...”

Immediately the atmosphere changed. Everyone talked at once, turning the once quiet diner into a tumult of raised voices. Some speculated, mixing little known facts with outrageous conspiracy theory, while others listen intently.

“It’s the outbreak of Callarba all over again,” said a man who looked well into his late fifties.

“The symptoms are all different, old man” said a lady sitting opposite him, who looked like she was his wife. “None of them who had that virus were known to have neither speech impediment nor amnesia.” she continued.

“It could be a new strain or something. I don’t know, I’m no doctor.” he defended himself.

“Then you should leave it to one who is more qualified, dear.”

A smart dressed young man, around his 30’s looked the lady in the eye and proclaimed “It’s God’s wrath I tell you, for all our sins!”

“It might be some sort of a lab experiment gone wrong” exclaimed his friend.

The gentleman just looked him in the face, his expression betraying the absurdity he found in his friend’s statement. With a sneer, he said, “With you, everything is an experiment gone wrong.”

“Why you ignorant-self centred son of a...”

“Now, now. No need to get all heated up as yet, boys.” a waitress who looked like she knew her way around men went to stand beside them. “Might as well put that steam where they could have some use. But whatever it is, I for one will definitely take more time to shower after this. All this talk about germs and disease makes a girl feel dirty.”

With a wink, she took off her apron, slapped it on the counter and went into the back.

“Now that girl will make more men bleed out of their nose worse than whatever virus it is out there.” The old lady muttered under her breath as she continued to enjoy her drink.

***

Max had known all along that today would be one of the longest days of his life. He had woken up earlier than usual, in hopes of getting to work early but things had gone wrong from the start. He nicked himself pretty badly when he was shaving, he burned a rather large whole on his favourite shirt, spilled coffee on another, managing to break the bowl of cereal while he was trying valiantly to wash off the stain, dropped his car keys in the gutter and had a flat tire. He ended up being half an hour late to office.

He thought he was lucky that his boss, Frederick B. Jefferson was out. He thought he was even luckier that the big mouth of the office, one Miss Helena, was also not at her place. Then he felt odd.

No one was in the office.

He was about to put the thought aside when he saw a post-it-note on his monitor.

“Come straight to the briefing room.”

“Shit!” he thought. “There must be an emergency staff meeting today. Of all the days...”

With a loud sigh, he picked up his notebook and dashed for the briefing room one floor up.

The heavy, dark brown oak door was closed, but still Max could hear voices. Trying his best to be discreet, he slowly pushed the door open, sneaking a peek.

“Max!” a voice boomed over the tumult. “Where the hell have you been?”

The voice belonged to none other. Fat Fred, his boss, was sitting at the end of the oblong marble table. His face was as red as a deep fried lobster, his necktie not tied properly. His sleeves were rolled up right to his elbows.

“This is not good.” Max thought.

Every pair of eyes was on him. But just for an instant. Then they concentrated on the 42 inch TV screen at the opposite end from Fat Fred.

Max had only begun to open his mouth to come up with an excuse when Fred commanded, rather than said, “Nevermind. Come here!”

He rushed through the crowd of co workers who had to stand in the lack of chairs. Some of them snickered but otherwise, none took notice of him. All eyes were fixed on the telly.

“D’you know anything about this?” asked Fred.

“About what boss?”he replied, knowing somehow that this would be it for him. Not only that he was late, but he did not have a clue on what was going on.

“More than ten thousand people were infected with the bloody virus. Overnight. Uncle Pete has declared martial law for the whole 39^th district. Guys in full biohazard suits are everywhere!”

It was one of those rare moments in Maxwell Duggard’s life that he was totally dumbfounded. Peter Stuart, or Uncle Pete as he was more fondly known, was as calm and headstrong President as you could get. For him to declare an emergency was a hint of the grave magnitude of the situation. This was no swine flu, the outbreak that scared the world shitless a few years back.

“Do they know what had caused the sudden increase?” The words were out of Max’s mouth before he could even think about it thoroughly.

“Of course they don’t, you dimwit!” Fred screamed. “If they did, we should have known! Or have you conveniently forgotten that that’s YOUR job?”

“Right away boss, right away.”

“And don’t come back until you have something, you worthless...” was all he heard before the door closed behind him.

With a huge sigh, he started for the lift. It was going to be a long day indeed.

Prologue

Ben looked all around him. Nothing seemed to make sense. Everything was in tatters. Trees burned a crimson red, mountains of bricks that once were walls lay strewn all over. It was a scene from hell, or as close to it as he himself can imagine. Through the thick cloud of smoke rising seemingly from the face of the earth, he was astounded to find a lone figure on her knees, swaying back and forth, as fleetingly as leaves would in the gentle breeze of the wind.

As he walked closer to the figure, he saw that the lone figure was a mother cradling her child, hugging the infant tightly to her breast. Her breath came in short gasps, mouth opening and closing as a fish might. He could hear her sobbing from even this distance. Tears streamed down her cheeks, slowly dripping on the child's pure face.

His heart broke.

Then, he noticed something was off. While the mother was obviously in a state of distraught, weeping, sobbing, as he looked closer, her face was drenched in blood. Her mouth was working slowly, as if she was chewing an uncooked piece of cheap slab of meat. And there was definitely something wrong with the child's face.

A big gaping hole on his left cheek, all bloodied and marred. A deep, dark purple abrasion mapped his soft white skin up to his cute button nose. Streaks of black veins that looked like webs filled the left side of his face. His round eyes were open, as though horrified by what he saw last, and yet confused as why God had let something of this magnitude of monstrosity happened to an innocent soul like him. Bulging almost out of its socket, Ben can only imagine the pain that he had gone through.

A horrifying thought occurred to Ben just then.

Slowly she bent her head down, bit on his flesh, and tore it up some more, sobbing while at the same time enjoying the taste of her own son. Ever so slowly, she chewed on the tender meat that was her son's. And ever so slowly, she averted her eyes upward to enjoy the meal.

That was when she noticed Ben.

A distorted squeal escaped Ben's lips as it dawned on him what situation he was in. As she rose, Ben backed up and turned, his feet dragging beneath him, slowing him down. He forced them to work, using every bit of energy in him to run away, but they just wobbled and turned to liquid, taking him down. He was barely able to turn his head back around, but he managed to peek.

The mother had already stood. Eyes white with rage, or hunger, Ben could not know, were looking straight at him. As she rose her hand, a finger pointing towards him, she said, whispered to be exact, barely loud enough for Ben to hear from this distance.

"Food..."