Closer
1852 Words
“My help?!” Cara shouted into the phone, “Who the hell do you think you are? And why are you calling me so obsessively, you creep?”
“Apologies. You see, this is an emergency, Miss James. He cleared his throat. “My name is Doctor Saint Claire... Bradley St. Claire. I am involved in the development and implementation of infection tracking technologies through global positioning systems on handheld devices.”
“Excuse me?” She asked.
He sighed into the phone. “I’m developing an app.”
“Oh,” she answered.
This guy was obviously a smart ass, and she didn’t have the time or energy to deal with people like that.
“I don’t think I’m the person you’re looking for,” Cara said coldly, ready to hang up the phone.
“I am quite aware of who you are, Miss James, and you are exactly the person I need,” the voice retorted.
This guy was starting to grate on her already raw nerves. Nevertheless, she was curious.
She could hear him take a deep breath into the phone. He was annoyed too. “I can compensate you handsomely,” he offered tensely.
“I don’t need money,” she snapped.
He paused again, trying to keep his composure. “Miss James, the project I am working on could greatly curb the infection rates of this virus. If truly effective it could save us all.”
“Well you seem like you have it handled. What do you need me for?” Her patience was worn thin these days. There was no spare time for niceties.
“The program...” he paused for a moment, “the app... it will not be effective unless it is widely downloaded and popular. It has to ‘go viral’ as your people would say.”
“My people? What is that supposed to mean?” Cara said incredulously.
He cleared his throat again. A tic, it seemed. “I mean that... Miss James, I am a world renowned expert in many things. Starting trends is not one of them. I need someone to market this program to the world... or all of my work will have been in vain.”
She’d never seen this man’s face and she already wanted to strangle him. But for some reason she couldn’t hang up the phone. This mysterious voice offered something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Hope.
“You really think this could work?” She asked.
“How good are you at what you do?” He asked.
“The best,” she answered confidently.
“Then it will work. It has to work. I will not surrender to letting this world crumble before my eyes.”
The passion in his words lit something deep inside Cara’s soul. Finally, a chance to fight back against the invisible enemy that had been relentlessly beating her down for three endless years.
“Fine,” she answered. “When do we start?”
“Now,” said the voice.
“Are you kidding me?” She shrieked. This guy was insane.
“Unless you have a more urgent commitment?” He asked sarcastically.
She wished she could reach through the phone and punch him. She huffed angrily, but managed to hold back the profanities that were ready to drip from the tip of her tongue.
“Miss James, by my calculations there have been no less than eleven deaths caused by this virus in the short time we have been speaking. And that doesn’t include those victims who succumb to the virus in other ways. Time is of the essence. I have a lab equipped with everything you need to work, and a safehouse for you to stay in. But we need to do this before the world is too far gone to save.”
She didn’t know how to answer. This was so sudden, so unexpected.
But she couldn’t just sit in this apartment and watch the world rot around her.
“Okay, fine. let’s do this,” she groaned. “Are you coming to get me or something?”
“I am already here,” the mysterious voice replied.
Then came the buzz of her doorbell.
Cara frowned. “Do you have any idea how creepy you are?” She asked.
“Miss James, do you have any idea how little I care?” He retorted.
Despite herself, she had to smirk at that one.
She went to the door and flipped off the security switch, but paused before turning the deadbolt and opening the door.
Her eyes flew wide open when she saw the person standing on the other side.
She’d expected an older, slightly shriveled gentleman with a pudgy belly.
In front of her stood a tall, lean young man with wavy hair and a sharp jaw. Or at least it seemed that way under his surgical mask. He pushed his glasses up from the tip of his nose and cleared his throat.
Of course.
That was going to get on her nerves, she could tell.
“Hello,” he said with an awkward slight bow of his head. He seemed thrown off by the sight of her, his eyes trailing down the plunging neckline of her shirt.
Cara realized that she hadn't changed out of the ridiculous top she used for her photo, but she wasn't going to be shy about it at this point. She defiantly placed her hand on her hips and stared right back at the handsome stranger.
He tore his eyes away from her alluring skin, blinking quickly and shaking his head like he was trying to wake himself from a daydream. “Um... may I come in?”
Cara groaned a little. “Oh, right. Yeah, come on in.” She moved aside to give him plenty of distance to pass by, then quickly closed the door behind him. She hadn't come close to another human since her parents got sick. She wasn't about to start now.
After flipping the security switch back on, she grabbed her mask from the table beside her door and put it back on.
She couldn’t help but stare at the mysterious stranger that had strode so confidently into her apartment.
He stood in the center of the room, scanning everything but obviously trying not to touch anything.
You couldn’t be too careful in this world.
“Pack only the essentials, please,” he said tersely. “We don’t have much time.”
“Until what?” She asked.
He pulled out his phone and held it up for her to see. She was still several feet away, but she could make out a blue grid and a cluster of blinking red dots.
“Those dots show a Herd nearby,” he explained.
“How the....?” She began.
“This technology I've developed monitors movement on street cameras, recent posts on social media, pings on cell phone towers, other information like that. It compiles that data and shows me where abnormally large groups of people are congregating. And they are the only people who congregate in this god-forsaken world.”
The phone beeped twice.
“They’re getting closer,” he said with a furrowed brow. “Please hurry. I don’t want my car vandalized again.”
Those damned herds were getting bigger and more violent every day. They were formed by fanatics who believed that once everyone was infected, we’d all be immune and this living hell would all be over. So much so that they would purposefully try to infect themselves... and others. As days went on they became more obsessive and extreme, attacking anyone they thought was “clean.” If you resisted them, they would... eliminate the risk.
So Cara went to her bedroom and grabbed a few of her favorite outfits, things that would look cute in photos. She threw some makeup in a bag and pulled her hair up in a bun... just in case she needed to run.
She heard the doctor’s phone beep three more times. So she quickly zipped up her bag and hurried into the living room.
He hadn’t moved. He was standing there, watching his phone intently.
Then it beeped four times.
“We need to leave... now,” he said.
Without a word, Cara grabbed her purse and phone and threw her bag over her shoulder. She deactivated the door and let the doctor pass through first, then turned around to look at the apartment one last time. For the first time in a long time, she had hope that the world would look very different when she returned.
They passed quickly down the dark hallway.
His phone beeped five times.
The doctor began to move faster, practically running. Her legs were much shorter than his, making it nearly impossible for her to keep up.
They reached the front door of the building and it was still locked.
She frowned at the doctor. "How did you get in?" She asked.
He answered with a shrug. “I told you, I am an expert in many things.”
She gave him an exaggerated eye roll, making sure it was pronounced enough for him to see above the mask.
“My car is across the street,” he said, “Let’s go.”
She unlocked the door and pushed it open. "You have a running car?" She asked.
He didn't answer.
The sounds of screams and shouts echoed down the empty streets. It sent a chill down her spine. They ran across the rugged pavement, still keeping a safe distance from each other.
Bradley opened his trunk and backed away, motioning for Cara to put her bag inside. She quietly obliged.
They worked in silence, hoping not to alert the nearby mob.
He opened the passenger door for her, then circled back around the car to close the trunk. It was like a dance, trying never to come too close to another human being. In a healthy young person it could lie dormant for weeks before beginning to rot them from the inside out. You could never be truly sure who was infected.
Cara climbed in the car, and noticed the plexiglass barrier he had installed between her and the driver’s seat. She closed the door as quietly as she could.
Then came the loud creak from the trunk.
A metallic screech that rang through the silent air and made the hairs on her arm stand on end.
Almost immediately, the cries of the mob grew louder and more passionate. She dared a look in the side-view mirror. In the reflection, furious faces began to appear around the corner, captioned by the familiar phrase...
“Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.”
- Writer
