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Cry of the Albatross

When the world is no longer home

By Bianca HubbardPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
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Cry of the Albatross
Photo by Omer Salom on Unsplash

Loud noises were everywhere.

I couldn't tell one sound from another as I search frantically for my family. I had managed to secure my nieces but not my mom or cousin.

There was a virus that has swept our country. It was fast moving and highly contagious with no treatments available. It caused swelling of the lung tissues. It made mucus build up in your lungs and made you asphyxiate slowly. Your white blood cells were effected too; they would be almost reprogrammed to attack you healthy cells instead of the virus. If the person was lucky, they would die in their sleep with no recollection. Those not so lucky lived in the pain of their body attacking them internally as their air supply was dwindling, painfully aware that they were drowning.

Because of how devastating it was, the world made a vast and horrific decision. An air raid. Bombs.

Bombs were dropped over our country to eradicate and annihilate any that played host for this virus. These bombs were loaded with a chemical compound called Verdetrex. The propaganda based media did testing claimed that this compound was non-threatening to humanoid life forms. The job of this compound was to isolate and separate the virus from humanoid individuals by lighting on its skin and being absorbed to target the virus pathology. The host would have no harmful side effects more than a common cold or a slight sniffle... Who knew how the world turned its back on our country? Faulty testing and blatant lies led to worse side effects than any could guess.

For all the testing, they neglected to say that if the Verdetrex met the virus, it mutated into a whole different terror. It caused legions on the skin that later erupted like volcanos. The blood took on a radioactive green without the glow because of the Verdetrex reacting to the infected white blood cells. The body’s metabolism would kick into high gear burning every ounce of fat giving the effected person a hollow, skeletal appearance. The mildest issue was the cough.

The virus was scary but the mutation was horrifying.

My neighbors were the first people I knew that encountered it. They had spent a week abroad in the Northern Territories and when they came home, everything seemed normal. A couple days went by and I noticed the husband started looking pale. He was a man that was sepia in tone with a bald head and thin features. I would notice him cough and hack. After a few moments, the spell was seen to dissipate, and he will return to normal. One day, I noticed him scratching and his arms and he had long sleeves on. I myself was in my kitchen washing dishes and the window looked out at his yard. To my horror, he rolled up his sleeves and there were large purple and red bruises that seemed swollen like they were hot with infection. Only a few days later, I heard his wife cough the same cough. One night, I heard a haunting and shrill scream.

The next morning, officials from the Center for Infectious Compounds arrived. They took his body out but the sheet fell off and I never would forget. His skin where the bruises were, they were open and oozing gray and green blood that looked like toxic sludge more than a life carrying liquid. His limbs were swollen and disfigured from the flesh opening forcefully. His lips had turned a peculiar shade of blue black that was even more stark set in his gray toned tanned skin. The pallor making the recessed eyes seem deeper as the fat from the lids vanished too, leaving his eyes, milky white to have green tinged sclera.

That night, I stopped. I stopped and I sobbed in the shower. I let my tears be washed away by the hot water that pelted my skin. The fiery sting of the water served to remind me that I never helped. It lashed at my skin like a cat of nine tails rolled in salt and lemon juice. I toweled off and put on a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and crawled in bed for a sleepless night.

Since the virus swept our country, my cousin, her children and my mom stayed in the family home. None of us have presented with this affliction and we were lucky. So I thought. And I was so wrong. I had no idea how wrong I was...

It had been 2 months since my neighbors both had passed away. The virus mutated again but this time, instead of it needing to be in a host for seven to ten days before presenting, it presented 67% faster and was even more volatile with the introduction to Verdetrex.

The Confederation of United Interests met at astronomical distances to discuss the mutation at length. Every few ideas that were taken like wearing masks and staying out of public eye seemed to be meet with distention.

Before I knew it, rules were changed from the CUI that any individual that had been within contact of the virus needed to be terminated within the next 24 hours. These determinations were absolute and happening within 5 hours. Those deemed safe and uncontaminated were moved to impromptu camps for our “protection”.

All around me now is chaos. Large bombs with napalm and clartimiceride mixed to create disastrous attacks that burned flesh on impact. It could erode and melt a one-foot by one-foot solid lead block in twenty-eight minutes.

My nieces were crying and clutching at my chest. Their mom got separated from us and shoved in a containment van. I grabbed the children, and we hid in alleys until the vans left. Quickly, I traded three of our ration packs for a vehicle. We drove for a while away from well-traveled roads until we found an abandoned cul de sac that was at the end of twisting and winding, sublet streets.

That night I held my nieces close, and I made them sleep but, I was awake. The adrenaline filled day had me restless and unable to look away from the little ones. Our lives made a drastic change sooner than any magic trick. While they slept, I rummaged for supplies and rations for our livelihood on the run. I had found blankets, first aid supplies, extra plastic tarps, packing and duct tape. Smiling, I found duffle bags to pack our newly found gear. The room the girls were laying in was the last I pillaged for anything else of use.

There was a beautifully cherry wood dresser that stood on one wall with little space between the corners. Quietly, I opened the drawers and looked through them. I found money and pain medicines with opioids along with a few items I could fit. There was a sewing kit that was fully stocked and a drawer of various fabrics. I put those things in my pack; I knew I was no seamstress, but you never knew what you may have to make or repair. When I opened the center cabinet, I saw delicate jewelry of various metals, stones and cuts. But this one piece caught my eyes. It was a black metal that looked like polished onyx. It was heart shaped with a hinge set in dainty but tightly woven silver chain. My curiosity won as I opened the heart shaped locket and peered in its contents.

My heart swam into a tsunami of emotion. There was a picture of a baby. She had ginger blonde curls and bright, crystal blue eyes that looked like they captured the Caribbean Sea in their depths. The child had smaller crystal or diamond stud earrings in her ears. She was smiling a gummy smile holding a plushy rabbit with chocolate brown fur.

I felt my soul clench looking at this child. My mind had so many questions that I knew no answers to. Was this child alive? Did the parent and the child get separated or did they get lucky enough to stay together? Will the child grow up to know their family’s love? Will they ever see normalcy again? Hell, what is normal?

I looked up in the dresser mirror to look at the reflection of my nieces sleeping on the bed. In that moment, a prayer made itself known on my lips and from the depths of my heart.

Dear Lord, I come to you in humble submission and exalt your name from the highest point and from the deepest valley. I pray to you to keep these little ones safe in my care as I take on a roll that you feel I am strong enough to take. Please grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change and the strength to endure the things I can change. Please continue your blessings the only way you can so that I may in turn be a blessing to someone else. Please watch over the family whose house we find shelter in and allow them the strengths to push through such troublesome times. In your holy name I pray, Amen.

I clutched the locket closer to my skin and tucked it into my shirt as if it were a piece of me. That baby was just another innocent that this craziness in our world effected. That night, I curled up amongst my nieces and prayed that each day that we were given the chance to breathe, would be a day that the world's turmoil would be over.

Short Story
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About the Creator

Bianca Hubbard

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect." --Anaïs Nin

I love to write, read, and laugh! I can be found reading fanfiction, spending time with my nieces and nephews or relaxing with my cat after work.

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