Wave: Epidemic (2)

Part 1: The Pokémon
Chapter 2: Still Something to Lose



I said nothing about Travis. He was bound to face a night alone in the forest, only privileged to hear the sounds of crickets, toads, and the occasional scream from town as the authorities captured infected victims on the streets. We all had that last one. I gathered Travis himself was a part of it. He was lucky, though. He escaped. Now he'd be waiting for me every afternoon by the woodland bridge, so that I could feed him, keep him company, and maybe join him if things went to hell here, if they weren't already at that point. It seemed like the better idea. If I was going to get infected at all, making the change in safety rather than being wrangled up like a mad dog felt smart. I mean, if I did happen to morph and then get taken away, there was a chance I could see the Circle again. It was one of the stranger risks I could've taken.

In the quote unquote safety of my bedroom, I couldn't help but agonize over the idea of the walls knowing my plan and letting me carry it out until I had made enough progress for them to scream  'problem'. Even if Travis and I did figure something out—I was speaking like I knew the guy—in the woodland, where there were no walls watching, they always seemed omniscient, superior, and one step ahead. Then again, if they were that smart, they would've already read all of our minds, and I would've been screwed. I doubted they were that way, which was why I didn't speak of Travis in the first place.

Family had some significance here. If I told them that I was babysitting someone slash thing like Travis, well, I actually had no clue what they would decide to do. Maybe they would've been against the idea, reported infected hiding in the woods, had them captured, followed by being captured themselves. I knew we were walled in for the reason of controlling the outbreak and letting us suffer the illness, so that the big guys could get us out of the way.

Or? Or maybe they were totally alright with the idea and had no problem letting me freely wander about the blighted woods.

I was saying “they”, when I really meant “she”. Mom worked out of town, and none of the authorities, or whatever they were called, would have let her go that far. She might have been a carrier. I remembered adults getting infected more slowly. I knew that any uninfected human beyond Autumnridge assumed we were all too far gone. There were no mights or maybes. Our transformations were imminent, guaranteed to happen sometime soon, nowhere else but our hometown. Well, Dad happened to work in our hometown. He worked at the hospital. I haven't seen him since the day I fled the Circle's little episode, so I felt is was safe to assume that he was in an autopsy lab somewhere as something other than a man, cut wide open by a bunch of tall guys in yellow hazmat suits.

My brother was around. I mean, he lived here, but given what I think happened to my step-dad, I doubted we'd be calling this home for very long. Atti was prone to care less about the thing with Travis than Mom, and that made him a better candidate for support. He didn't have much left to do at the house. Unlike Metedia, the middle school around here was closed off a week after that shit storm at the hospital I was still hearing about. He was in the same position as Mom. Weren't we all? It all came down to waiting for your turn to make the change, or, rather, for the change to make you. Atti acted like he was coping better than any of us here. I wasn't sure with that kid. He was spunky, full of energy and caffeine, but there was a lot of apathy in that package. He might not have been lazy. He was a go-getter, but he had this weird-ass habit of shutting down in situations that threw him so off course from his routine. He would lose his personality, a sentient husk, comforting sometimes, perturbing others, all accompanied by making his room a sanctuary, or prison, for long durations. He never addressed this trait, nor was he bothered about it.

Despite that, I failed to mention anything to him. The remainder of my day was another chunk of hours spent watching muted television. I couldn't stop watching, even though I never paid any attention. Like the days before today, I was only wondering how much longer I would be forced onto campus. How desperate were they to continue teaching us? Or to delay our transformation? Either way, learning more about what happened in the French Revolution or finding trigonometric values wasn't going to change much.

Where school mattered about as much as electricity bills now, I left the TV on for the umpteenth night in a row, catching what little sleep I could.

The next day was none more than a beeline for lunch time, even if the first four classes dragged on to nowhere. Less of us were showing up everyday for obvious reasons. I was pretty impressed with the resilience of my teachers. A good many of them refused to be taken away by the infection, whereas students were having a harder time. Less freedom to wander about, maybe. I didn't think there was discrimination of any sort going on here. You were human or not. Age, ethnicity, or gender didn't matter. Praying didn't matter. Running didn't matter. Learning sure as fuck didn't matter.

So I cast aside all school-related thoughts in that lunch alleyway, a brown paper bag at my side, my backpack on the other. My head was back, eyes rested shut, as one arm was held above a bent knee, the other leg straight. I was sitting against the same wall, because that one liked me, even if it talked a lot of trash. The contents of the paper bag weren't for me. They were for Travis. I could go a while without eating, plus I wasn't surviving out in the wilderness knowing that the second I stepped back onto the tainted streets of town I'd be snagged and hauled away. That guy deserved to be hidden somewhere better than a stinky river. I would've been all for having Travis hide at my place if the disease didn't spread so easily through contact or close quarters. But, again, like many things, that ploy didn't matter when the authorities were doing daily searches of residencies they knew were occupied; that was life in the hot zone.

'Hot zone' didn't promote any good news for the weather. It wasn't, in fact, hot at all. Today, the skies had a thick gray ceiling threatening to spit its annual November showers at us. (Hah, that reminded me: Halloween was freakin' awesome this year. You should've seen what people went as.) Whatever weather we were in for was fine with me, but maybe not so much with Travis. Who knew? Seeing as how he's formed some sort of relationship with water, maybe it wasn't all that bad.

Ten minutes left until class was back in session. Ten minutes until another hour of hoping that someone didn't come to school sick again. Ten minutes to the forest from here...

Ten minutes is all it takes to turn into me!

...I was on my way once again, no doubt in my mind that someone like Travis would be at the same spot. I knew him little, but I knew what the desperation would've been like. Something about us being peers played a role in trustworthiness. I guess it was nice knowing I could've known a guy that I should've known by now. Something like that. A guy I did know dropped by the alleyway before I made my escape, like a planned interception following the script.

“Bryan! You're still up here!”

I was surprised at that tone. He didn't expect to see me up at a place I had been sitting around  every day for a year now, which, now that I gave it some thought, made sense. My friends were kind of gone, so I couldn't blame this fellow for thinking that I took off like he did. Well I was just about to.

“Yeah. Hey, where you been?” I responded.

“Room 102, Mr. Davidson's.”

Danithan paused there. He didn't expect me to know why he was having lunch in my English class, which was ironically to be my next class were I not focused on Travis, which sounded gay as hell. Well, anyway, I didn't remember ever hearing what more than four words sounded like coming from him, so this was all a shocker. He was a friend of Zack's. He was also quiet, and held some kind of world record for wearing sunglasses for the longest time. Probably.

“You should have lunch with all of us. It's a drag out here.”

“It feels safe to me,” I shrugged, facing the spot I had been sitting, noticing a brown bag all by its lonesome. “Oh, crap.” I felt some strong sting of awkwardness as I retrieved the lunch. I appreciated Danithan's tendency to not give two shits about a lot of things, because I really wasn't prepared to tell him where this was going. The expression was, 'Who has two thumbs and doesn't care?' I was happy he could still answer with 'me'. Thumbs were getting harder to come by.

“Not too much going on though. 'Came back to check and see if you Circle guys were still around,” he said. “At least someone still is. Hey, you might be interested in what we're doing.”

“What's going on?”

“A new club opened up: The Stand. It honors that old retaliation effort. People used to hide at Metedia, and they'd be protected from the authorities.”

“What, like infected people?” As if on its own, a brow of mine raised, hoping he would deny.

“Yeah, but now, no one here's infected. We want to keep it that way. Metedia's more of a safe zone than a high school now, and so far the club's like thirty-five-or-so members strong. Care to join?”

Despite the sound of 'safe zone' having a nicer ring to it than 'hot zone', I had to decline. I liked the idea of the school becoming a bunker. It was badass, but I was getting a little friendlier with the infected than these guys were. Still sounded good if you wanted to stay the species you were born as.

“Sorry, I really gotta be somewhere. I'll check it out tomorrow though. Later.” With an overhead peace, I waved him off. I wanted to wish the Stand well because it sounded a lot better what I was doing with my time before yesterday. If I joined that, I might not have been able to help Travis. So it was back to the forest with me. I didn't steer Danithan the wrong way, at least. I heard a friendly 'take care' come from behind. No hard feelings.

The imagery of yesterday became pretty similar to the present, save the heavy overcast. There I was again, leaning on the wooden railing of the bridge's small promontory. Travis was there, taking bites out of a pear held in both paws. On the closest bank was a paper bag all by its lonesome again. 'Felt good that I couldn't ever really reach the point of loneliness. Even if I did get messed up by a sickness that transformed your body, I knew that there was a possibility I'd wash up here.

“How'd you sleep last night?” I asked him, even though I didn't really want to disturb the guy. He was overjoyed to have something to eat.

“It was okay,” he squeaked. His mouth was full, so he hesitated for a moment, swallowing and repeating himself. “It was okay. Chilly, but kinda refreshing. I found a nice spot in one of the thicker sections nearby. I made a bed of leaves and slept just fine.”

“A bed of leaves?” I looked away, grimacing. “You're really serious about this. 'Might even rain tonight. You sure you're all good?”

“I am! I don't wanna be captured. Besides, I've taken a new liking to water! Perks of being a marill.”

The other eyebrow went up.

“A what?” I inquired, forgetting to shut my mouth.

“You know, marill? The Pokémon?”

I just watched him for what felt like a minute. Slowly, I pushed myself away from the railing, hands still gripping it. My eyes were rolled high as I tried to force every fiber of my being to rationalize the unruly amount of denial within me.

Oh is THAT what's happening?! Oho! Dude! You're gonna be a Pokémon!

“How did you...?” I left my thoughts open for Travis. He caught them securely.

“I played the games when I was younger." he said. Content with his answer, he took another bite of the pear, as I was left to battle with disbelief.

“So are we all changing into Pokémon? Is that what this whole thing's about?”

“Yeah,” He answered with another mouthful of fruit. “You didn't know? It's been all over the news and stuff.”

My TV was muted. My mistake.

“I haven't heard anyone at Metedia talk about that.” I sighed. Right about now, I expected to be called a dumbass by Nick. I didn't hear anything about Pokémon because I had isolated myself from people. Sure, there were some students left in the classes I had, but they were all as secluded as I was, were they not already with the Stand, if that changed them any. I guess the Stand was all about keeping away from change though.

“Unlucky, maybe?” Travis claimed, which was a lot nicer than anything the Circle would've had to say. I missed that, but I didn't complain. Travis was cute, made so by the infection. That's all I knew him by.

“Something like that, yeah. Yo, I'd hang out longer, but I'm afraid I might catch the flu.”

“Huh? Oh, you're leaving now?”

“Sorry, I gotta make sure things are okay back home too.”

“You're right. Don't you live in a hot zone?”

Well, I survived in one, but I didn't put it that way for him.

“Yeah. So I'll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place?”

“Sure sure, if you don't mind! Thanks again for doing this. I know it's a stretch getting by the authorities.”

“Not at all, if you know the right path to take. Hey, see you around.”

“Take it easy, Bryan!”

Bidding each other friendly farewells under sinister skies, I left the “marill” to his lunch, hoping he'd make better use of it than me, the host of a stomach in knots. It was time to return home to the slums of sickness. Of all the things that sickness entailed, I would have never thought it was Pokémon. It was my fault for not keeping my ears open, or doing my research. I was treating the infection like it meant death. No. That was wrong. The misconception's all the fault of the authorities taking the Pokémon-turned people away, the walls, the pain, the meteorites.

Returning home to a panicked mother on her knees attempting to open a locked bedroom door boded about as well as anything could have in a hot zone. She may have been more suspicious with my early return home from Metedia if not so absorbed in the process of picking my brother's locked door. Yesterday's story was that my seventh period class was canceled. I might as well have just told her that the teacher got transformed, and kinda lost his job because of that.

I approached her with a greeting, as not to startle her.

“Mom, what're you doing?”

“Bryan? Bryan! Atti locked himself in and won't respond to me.”

“Alright, so he's asleep then?” I scoffed, knowing that Atti never slept during the day, and that this was about to be the reply from Mom.

“You know your brother doesn't take naps. I've been calling him for hours now.”

“Mmgh,” I grunted, crouching to her level and watching the doorknob closely. “Any luck on this thing?”

“I'll get it, I'll get it. Couldn't find the spare key. 'Been doing this for ten minutes or so.”

And it seemed like another ten minutes scraped on before she finally opened the freaking thing. I could have only imagined how satisfying the relenting lock could've felt to her, or if it was satisfying at all. I knew that it was nice to break down whatever barrier my brother was trying to build up to hide himself in.

Mom was stammering before I could enter the room. She stood in my way, petrified. Being the wide woman she was, pushing past was more of a verbal endeavor than anything. Upon passing her, I had second thoughts. I was in range of the infection, of my brother. I think. The short distance of his quaint, dimly lit room was separating us from something, presumably a Pokémon, sitting against Atti's pillow, legs out, staring back at us with dizzy eyes shut halfway.

“Atti?” I took a step back, head lowered with my gaze locked on the thing.

“Don't,” he started, lifting a blanket over his small body with brown, stumpy arms. The blanket simply slid off of him, covering only his legs, clawed feet still showing through. “Don't look.”

“Atti, hon?” Mom made her own call. “Is that you? Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh, it's okay. I'm alright.”

He looked far from it. Atti looked like some kind of rodent with short, light brown fur, a bright green “cap” on the top of his rounder head. On that cap appeared to be leaves, two in the form of long ears, three others in the back sticking up, and two smaller 'whiskers' at his cheeks. The cap looked like sort of shell, continuing down his back into a thin orange-tipped tail, resembling that of an armadillo's. On his face were three darker brown triangles, one at his forehead, the others on his cheeks.

“The house got hit with it, h-how did the house get hit with it?!” I cried out, turning to my mother as if she had a panacea to this.

“Bryan, take Atti and hide him somewhere good. They took Charles, but they are not taking Atticus.”

“I can't touch him! That's how it spreads! I touch him, I'm next.”

“So one of the things got into the house? Did one of the authorities bring the cold in there when they were searching? Atti! Did you go outside?”

“Not for very long. One of the guys touched my arm and led me back home. Is that how I got it?” he asked, hesitant, hiding something more.

“Maybe he was infected,” I shook my head, a hand over my mouth, looking beyond the ruse. “Crap. Crap it all. Alright, I'll find a place for you, dude. Come here. Mom, don't get too close. Same with you, Atti. Keep your distance. “

“You say it like you're the one who caught this.” Atti frowned, throwing the blanket off of himself. He jumped off of the bed, which was a length taller than him now. Wobbling clumsily, my infected brother came closer. Mom and I backed away like we were avoiding trouble with angry bulls, or something like that. Given enough space, I guided him to my room, making sure I was at one end of it while he was at the other. He gave the empty space a glance, searching for some decent spot to bury himself in. He was small, so that wasn't a big issue.

“Dude, if you even think about hiding under my bed, I'll kick you out.”

“Followed by screaming and hurting and then changing? Good plan, Bry, good plan!”

“Urgh, can't believe you just went out there to frolic. Look at you! You're one of 'em now!”

“Stop, don't remind me. I haven't seen myself yet, but I'm sure I look stupid.”

“Well, here, just...” I searched for some kind of valid hiding spot that wasn't the closet. I ended up picking that anyway. “Pull the closet open, make yourself comfy, and shut up for a night, if you can. They don't check my closet, just Mom's. If they ask where you are, we'll say you were caught, or... or something—I don't know.”

“Won't it infect everything I touch?”

“I'll avoid it all if I have to. We're not losing you, Atti. I've—we've lost enough, so please, man...”

“I know, I know. I don't want to go either.” With some reluctance, the kid pulled open the sliding closet door, stepping inside after giving his paws a quick examination. As he walled himself away, I caught a glimpse of my mom standing at my doorway, before I collapsed onto my bed, sitting back and taking a deep breath, waiting for another sleepless night to take its toll on all three of us.

With each day that passed, I sheltered a new victim. So, if patterns meant anything in this day and age, tomorrow would come with a third sicko. Somehow. Maybe I was the third. Whatever happened, I had a plan for Atti. Sure enough, my plan for him looked a lot like what I was doing down at the forest with Travis. Also sure enough, I was bound to have trouble getting Atti to the forest tomorrow, which was feeling a lot more like a day off from school now.

I wished the Circle would have stopped dickin' around, being dissected.

They weren't being dissected, I don't think. They wouldn't have given anyone good data, if I knew 'em. They were full of shit, after all, and that's why I loved those guys.

Instead of being with them, I was stuck with what might've been the messiest escort mission in history.

Yes, the authorities came that night. They were getting lazier. These guys knew that the pressure of the infection and their oppression over us sucked the spirit right out of the residents. We weren't hiding anything anymore. We were giving up. Most of us. Not me. I had Atti still. I had him, Travis, and my mom. I had me. I wasn't someone with nothing to lose.