The day after the YouTube incident I was put under ‘observation’, which basically meant I was on house arrest. Or penthouse arrest, if you will. I was acutely aware they could’ve killed me right then and there but they needed me, they were in damage control.

They also assigned me a ‘personal bodyguard’. They said it was for my protection. Apparently after the interview and the YouTube clip I’d become a bit of a celebrity. Kids all over and girls especially had started shaving their heads and were posting their own confessions online. In some circles I was even a bit infamous. Certain religious cults thought I was a demon and that I had caused the apocalypse, that I was the bringer of Judgment Day.

But I knew the real reason why the military had assigned me a bodyguard. He was there to keep an eye on me. To make sure I didn’t pull off any more stupid stunts. They wanted to keep me quiet. Not about the actual Oz virus but about the lengths the military went to contain the spread of infection.

When they introduced me to the bodyguard, they built him up like he was some sort of superhero. The PR guy was there, making sure we all shook hands and got along. His hair was slicked back with a bucket of hair gel, or maybe even children’s tears. OK, maybe that’s going a bit far. But it would not have surprised me if that’s what he used to style his hair with, if you could even call it styling.

The PR guy motioned for us to shake hands. “This is Daniel Hudson,” he said. “He’s served in the navy and with Special Forces all over the world. He has the Medal of Honor, awarded to him for going above and beyond the call of duty. He is one of the youngest soldiers to ever receive the medal. He’s one of the world’s greatest warriors.”

The PR guy left the room so we could get to know one another.

I looked him up and down. “One of the world’s greatest warriors, huh?”

Daniel was scratching the back of his head. He was watching the PR guy as he left the room. “Uh, apparently. Man, that guy wears a lot of cologne.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” I said. “So how’d you score this job? You must’ve drawn the short straw or something.”

“Hey, this is a pretty important gig. You know a lot. And knowledge is power. Therefore, you’re one powerful girl.”

He took me by surprise with that answer. But then again, maybe he had been told to say that if I asked. Maybe he was just following a script.

Daniel was a typical soldier, I guess. He was fit, strong. Not overly muscular like you see in the action movies. He was built more like someone who competed in triathlons, than a Sylvester Stallone or an Arnold Schwarzenegger. He had shaggy dark blonde hair, and he walked very upright, like he was always marching or standing at attention.

But apart from the fact he was easy on the eyes; the best thing about him was he had a relaxed sense of humor. He was an easy-going kind of guy. He sort of reminded me of Jack in that sense.

For the first two days, he didn’t say much. And we didn’t leave the penthouse suite. Then I started to get restless. I hadn’t been able to sleep much and even though the penthouse was huge, I felt like I was suffocating. I needed to get out. To my surprise, Daniel agreed. So we went out to the movies, out to restaurants and diners.

In a weird way, it was kind of like we were dating. The movies were good. They kept me distracted and occupied. Especially the movie marathon sessions that went all night. My favorite was the ‘Jackass’ series. We originally went to see the ‘Matrix’ trilogy, but I freaked out when people started dying, when Morpheus tells Neo that the skies had been scorched and people had been reduced to batteries. So we left that session and snuck into the ‘Jackass’ marathon. That was much better. Completely and perfectly stupid and ridiculous.

During the week, whenever we went out, Daniel used everything he had learnt during his time in the Special Forces to avoid the paparazzi. The photographers were always hanging around out the front of the hotel, waiting to ambush me. The way they swarmed together reminded me of the infected. But thanks to Daniel, they never even knew whether we were coming or going. We were invisible, we were ghosts.

At certain times, I felt guilty about enjoying myself. And whenever I was eating out at a nice restaurant I couldn’t help but wonder what my friends were eating, or if they had even found food or drinkable water. Then inevitably my thoughts would always turn to whether or not they were even alive.

It was easier not to think about it. To accept…

One particularly miserable night, Daniel suggested we go out. It was raining heavily, it may have even been hailing. But he said this was the best time to make a move. The paparazzi won’t be out in this weather. No one will be chasing us. And even if they were out in this weather, the visibility was so poor they wouldn’t be able to see us. He told me it was a technique they used in the Special Forces. Bad weather was a good ally. It provided the perfect cover and concealment.

Towards the end of the week, I suggested we go to the shooting range because I felt like that would make me feel better or something. I dunno. But it used to help back when I was getting over the loss of my father, back when I use to spend time with Kenji and he would teach me all kinds of martial arts and cool stuff, like shooting, and how to fight with a knife. Weirdly enough, shooting became like an active form of meditation and recovery. And again, Daniel agreed without complaint to take me.

And he was impressed with my skills.

Best of all he didn’t try and tell me I was doing it all wrong or that I needed to do it his way. He respected me. I guess he was taken by surprise that a sixteen-year-old girl could handle a gun and actually hit the target. I guess I was taken by surprise as well. I thought Daniel was going to be a jerk. I thought he was going to be a bad guy, like those men in black who had captured Maria and were authorized to use deadly force against the rest of us.

But he wasn’t a jerk, and he wasn’t a bad guy. He was a good guy. A great guy.

And he knew I was struggling.

I’m not sure when it happened exactly, but after the interview and the YouTube incident, I slowly began giving up on my friends. Well, maybe not giving up. It was more like I began accepting that I may never see them ever again. Those first few days back in civilization felt like an eternity.

Every second, every minute of waiting and not knowing was torture.

I was so confused. My emotions were all over the place. One minute, I was over the top positive and infinitely hopeful. I was so sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my friends were alive. They were survivors. I knew that from experience, from the three days we spent on the run from the infected and the military, right in the heart of Sydney. If they survived that, they could survive anything, right?

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

But then the next minute I would be down in the dumps. I’d be convinced they were done for. There was no way they could survive in that environment. No goddamn way.

I guess trying to accept that they were dead was easier for me. Less painful. The small hope that they were alive was driving me insane. I had to be realistic. What chance did they have of surviving in the middle of Sydney, when the military couldn’t even survive there? And even if the men in black or the military did ‘rescue’ them, what’s stopping the military from killing Jack and Kenji on the spot? What’s stopping the military from leaving them to rot, or feeding them to the ever-growing horde of the infected? What’s stopping them from cutting up Maria into tiny pieces to be studied from Petri dishes and test tubes? I had convinced myself there was no chance.

I felt so alone. I had no friends, no family. Did my mother make it out? Was she alive? Maybe they got all the nurses and doctors out on an aircraft carrier or something. But I knew the odds were not good. And even though I’d heard my friend’s voices just a couple of days ago, I couldn’t be sure if they were still alive. I was such a mess inside.

So accepting their deaths and moving on, or at least trying to move on, was easier for me.

At that point in time I was glad the military had assigned me a bodyguard. Daniel was the only thing keeping me together. Hanging out with him made me feel normal, like I wasn’t under house arrest, like my friends weren’t dead and I wasn’t the sole survivor of an apocalyptic virus.

One night I woke up at about 3am, screaming and drenched in a cold sweat. The damn sleeping pills they’d given me weren’t working. I went out to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and to up my dosage.

I found Daniel’s laptop on the kitchen bench. It was open. There were a couple of images on the screen. One was a satellite image of Australia. It showed a huge red cloud, or storm, that covered pretty much the entire country. I’d never seen anything like it. I’d never seen a storm that big before.

“Hey, are you all right?” Daniel asked from behind me.

I jumped and spun around at the same time. “Jesus! You scared the hell out of me.”

He moved over to the computer and turned it off. “Sorry. What are you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. What was that?” I asked, motioning towards the computer.

“Nothing. Just a few satellite images the military has released.”

“Oh.”

I wanted to ask him a million questions then. Did he think my friends were alive? Did he know? But I didn’t say anything. I felt strangely exposed, standing there in my pajamas. I was just about to get my bottle of water and go back to bed when Daniel did the weirdest thing.

He kissed me.

And I don’t just mean a kiss good night, because that would’ve been just as weird and just as awkward, but I mean a real kiss. A heart stopping, toe curling kind of kiss. He leant forward kind of awkwardly, like he was going to pull out at the last second. But then he closed his eyes and just went for it.

At first, I didn’t know what was going on. Was this against some sort of law? How old was he? Nineteen? Twenty? He didn’t look that old. I was sixteen, turning seventeen. It wasn’t that bad, right? It wasn’t wrong, was it? And then all of a sudden I didn’t care if it was wrong because it felt so freaking good.

After a few heartbeats, Daniel stepped back and apologized immediately. He had this weird look on his face like he’d been bewitched or put under a spell. He was dazed and confused and worried all at the same time.

And then his phone rang. He looked at the screen on his phone and swore. He then looked at me and apologized again. He answered the phone. I could hear him talking in a hushed tone as he walked down the corridor to the elevator.

I was left standing in the kitchen, wondering what the hell had just happened and whether or not I was dreaming.

The next day I asked if we could go to the shooting range again. I felt like it was the only thing that could sufficiently distract me and occupy my mind. I also figured it would help me get over that brief moment of insanity, or whatever it was.

So we went to the shooting range one last time. We ended up spending the entire afternoon there. I didn’t even realize we were there for that long. We had the whole place to ourselves.

It would’ve been about six o’clock when Daniel said we had to go. But I wasn’t ready to leave just yet. I wanted to get a few more shots off. I hadn’t been able to get in the zone.

I aimed the handgun I was using, a berretta I think it was, at the target. The target was hanging up thirty yards away. I held my breath. I heard Kenji’s voice in my head, ‘squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull’.

I fired one round and it pierced the paper target a few inches left of the bull’s-eye.

I was having trouble focusing, which was weird, because I felt like I’d really been improving this past week. And when I used to practice in Kenji’s basement, I could always hit the bull’s-eye whenever I concentrated hard enough.

Kenji was such a good teacher, an eternally patient teacher.

I think I was being extra hard on myself that day because maybe I was preparing for the worst-case scenario, the day when the virus spread to the rest of the world and completely took over. I wanted to be ready. I did not want to end up infected, a walking corpse.

And after I froze up in the hospital morgue, when that soldier begged me to put him out of his misery, I quickly learnt the difference between practice and real life. It’s hard to even think about what that soldier asked me to do, what I needed to do. After that incident, I was determined to get better. I was determined to get good enough so that shooting at something that needed to be shot became more of a reflex than a conscious act.

I fired another shot and barely even clipped the target.

Then again, maybe I was being hard on myself because of what happened the night before, because I kissed Daniel.

The next shot missed completely. Yep, it was official. My mind was a mess.

It was that damn kiss. I felt weird. I felt different.

Daniel moved over to my booth and reminded me that it was closing time and we had to go. I could feel his eyes watching me from behind. And it was distracting.

I put the hand gun down on the shelf and picked up a bolt action rifle. Kenji once told me that this old, simple rifle was a favorite for hunters and snipers. It was reliable, accurate, and deadly.

I reached for the control panel in my little booth that adjusted the distance of the target. I pressed the button that moved it further back down the shooting range to a distance of one hundred yards.

I shouldered the rifle and took aim. I concentrated on my breathing. And without even realizing it, I started to recite the Marines Rifle Code. Kenji used to say it all the time. He would even sing it sometimes, or turn it into this stupid freestyle rap where he would do this impression of Snoop Dogg.

I whispered the code to myself under my breath as I squeezed the trigger. “This is my rifle.”

Bang.

I didn’t check to see if I hit the target. I just reloaded.

I remembered when Kenji taught it to me, right before he left for military school, right before he ran away and joined the Marines. I didn’t pay it any attention at the time, but now that I look back, maybe he already knew he’d be leaving for military school. Maybe he was already planning on his escape to the Marine Corps.

I took another deep breath. Aimed. “There are many others like it.”

Bang.

“But this one…”

I paused. Closed my eyes. I saw the eyes of dying men, of dead men. I opened my eyes.

“This one is mine.”

Boom.

I exhaled slowly. Time had completely stopped. I felt warm. My fingers were tingling. Daniel was standing next to me. He pushed the button that retrieved the target. All three shots were dead center, straight through the bull’s-eye.

Daniel whistled his approval. “So who taught you how to shoot?”

I didn’t answer him. I hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes all day. I felt like such an idiot. Just as I was wondering how the hell we were going to get past this awkwardness, he confronted me.

“Rebecca, I’m sorry about last night. It was wrong to take advantage of you like that. I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s just that… you’re such a great person. You’re so strong.”

Why were guys always apologizing to me? And what did he mean by taking advantage? I’m pretty sure I kissed him back.

I turned to face him. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t take advantage. I’m not some stupid girl who doesn’t know any better. I kissed you back.” I paused, trying to think of the right words. “But it’s just not right. The timing and everything. We can’t do that. Not when so much is going wrong.” And not when Kenji could still be alive, I thought to myself.

Daniel’s phone rang and he answered it immediately. “Yes, sir. She’s right here. Got it. We’ll be there in ten.”

“What is it?”

Daniel ran his hands through his shaggy blonde hair. Since yesterday he had been looking more and more stressed out. Maybe that’s why he kissed me. Maybe it was the stress.

“The military have organized a press conference,” he said. “And they want you front and center. They’re about to announce their rescue plan to the world.”

“Rescue plan?” I asked.

“Yeah. They’re going back in. They’re going to rescue Maria Marsh.”