Chapter Three: Infected on the First Day

Selena's pov

I stared at the television, my fingers tightening around the remote as the news anchor announced the first cases of the mysterious infection.

“Authorities are urging residents to remain indoors. Several patients have displayed extreme aggression following exposure to an unknown pathogen. The source is believed to be an explosion at a pharmaceutical research facility.”

I slowly lowered the remote, wait a second, The apocalypse was two weeks early.

“This is impossible or did it change because of me.”

I had remembered the date. I had planned everything around it, from the supplies in my underground shelter to the moment I would finally be safe from the people who had destroyed my previous life.

But something had changed.

And I had no idea what it was.

I stood up and checked the security cameras. The road outside was far from quiet, although people had begun gathering around the nearby shops. My shelter was secure, and I had enough food to survive for months, but I had forgotten several medical supplies in the storage room outside.

I could leave them there, but I hated the thought of discovering a shortage when the roads became impassable.

"Ten minutes. I'll be back in ten minutes," I muttered. I grabbed my jacket and stepped outside.

The moment I reached the storage room, I heard a strange scraping sound behind me.

I turned.

A man was dragging himself along the wall, leaving a dark smear behind him. His shirt was soaked with blood, and his face was so pale that he looked almost dead.

"Hey! Can you hear me?" I called. He lifted his head.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his lips moved as though he were trying to speak. Then he charged at me with speed.

"Shit!" i shouted.

I dodged, but he caught my jacket and yanked me backward. I slammed into a metal railing, tearing my forearm against its jagged edge. Pain exploded through my arm.

I kicked him hard in the chest and broke free, then ran for my life.

The man stumbled after me, making a guttural noise that sent a chill down my spine. I didn't stop until I reached my shelter.

After locking the door, I hurried to the washroom and examined the wound. The cut was deep, but that wasn't what frightened me. Thin, dark lines were spreading beneath my skin.

I knew those marks.

I had seen them on infected people in my previous life, shortly before their bodies began to change.

"No. No, no, no!" I scrubbed the wound with disinfectant, then stared at my arm as if I could force the marks to disappear.

They didn't.

I stumbled away from the sink, breathing hard.

"How could I be this stupid?" I cried. "I knew exactly what was coming, yet I walked outside like some careless idiot!"

I struck the counter with my good hand.

"I survived that bastard Mark. I survived being betrayed by my own family. I came back from the dead, and now I'm going to die because I couldn't stay inside for ten minutes?"

My voice cracked.

I had spent months preparing for the apocalypse. I had sacrificed my belongings, bought supplies, and built a shelter while everyone else laughed at me.

I had done everything right.

So why was this happening?

Then I remembered something from my previous life. Infection didn't always mean an immediate transformation. In the early stages, medical intervention could sometimes slow the progression and give the patient a chance to survive.

I snatched my keys from the counter.

"Not this time," I said, wiping my tears. "I'm not dying here."

The hospital was a nightmare. People crowded the entrance, ambulances blocked the road, and the screams coming from inside made me question whether I should have stayed in my shelter.

A man stumbled through the automatic doors with blood covering his face. Two nurses rushed to help him, but he suddenly grabbed one by the throat.

Everyone scattered.

I froze for a second before forcing myself toward the reception desk.

"I need a doctor immediately!" I shouted.

The receptionist barely looked up. "Take a number and wait."

"Are you serious? Look at my arm!"

She glanced at the wound, saw the dark lines beneath my skin, and immediately reached for the telephone.

"Emergency exposure. We need a doctor in triage." A few minutes later, someone took me through a side corridor.

"Doctor, we have another possible infection case," a nurse called as we entered an examination room.

The man standing beside the counter turned around.

And for one absurd second, I forgot why I was there.

He was tall, with broad shoulders beneath a slightly wrinkled white coat. His dark hair was untidy, and exhaustion shadowed his striking features, but his eyes were sharp and alert.

He looked like the sort of man who could make a woman forget her own name with a single glance.

Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood to admire handsome strangers.

He looked at my arm."What happened?" "An infected man attacked me. I escaped, but I cut myself on a railing," I answered.

"How long ago?" he asked "About forty minutes."i said looking at his face. He immediately pulled on gloves.

"Sit down." he said. I obeyed while he examined the wound. "Did the man bite you?"

"No. "Did his blood enter the wound? "I don't know. I was too busy trying not to become his dinner."

His eyes flicked toward mine.

"You're remarkably sarcastic for someone who might have been exposed to a deadly pathogen," he remarked.

"And you're remarkably calm for someone working in a hospital that's falling apart."

One corner of his mouth lifted. "Touché." He cleaned the wound and collected a blood sample, then checked my vital signs.

"Name?" "Selena." "Ryan," he replied. "I'm the doctor responsible for your assessment." "Well, Ryan, I hope you're good at your job."

"I am. I hope you're good at following instructions." "That depends on the instructions."

He gave me a look that would have silenced most people.

For the first time since the attack, I felt something other than fear. Then he noticed the pregnancy information on my medical record.

"You're five months pregnant?" he asked. "Yes."i replied "Any complications before today?"he continued

"No." He looked at the nurse. "Arrange an obstetric assessment. We need to monitor the fetus while we investigate the infection."

My stomach tightened. "Am I infected?" I asked. "Your preliminary results will tell us more. Until then, I don't intend to guess."

He returned to the counter as a nurse brought in the first laboratory report. Ryan scanned it, his expression changing.

"Run this again," he ordered. The nurse frowned. "The machine completed the analysis twice." "Then use another machine."

"What did you find?" I demanded.

Ryan didn't answer immediately. He checked the report against my vital signs, then examined the dark lines around my wound.

"The pathogen is present in your bloodstream," he said at last. My chest tightened. "So I'm infected."

"Your results indicate that you've been exposed, yes. But there's something unusual about your body's response."

"What does that mean?" "It means I need to understand why the infection isn't progressing as expected."

Before I could ask another question, an obstetric nurse arrived with an ultrasound machine. She examined me while Ryan reviewed the results.

"The heartbeat is normal, and there's no obvious sign of fetal distress," she reported.

Ryan looked up sharply,"You're certain?" i asked curiously. "Based on this examination, yes."

He moved beside the monitor, comparing the findings with my blood results.

"That doesn't make sense," he muttered. "What doesn't make sense?" I asked. He turned toward me.

"In several pregnant patients we've examined, the infection has shown signs of affecting both the mother and the fetus. Your blood results indicate infection, but the initial fetal assessment is reassuring, and the pathogen's activity in your sample is behaving differently from what we've seen so far."

I stared at him.

"Are you saying my baby is immune?" "I'm saying we don't have enough evidence to make that claim." His answer irritated me, but I knew he was right.

"Then find out what is happening," I said. "I don't care how many tests you need to run. I want answers."

Ryan studied me for a moment. "You understand that shouting at me won't make the laboratory work faster?".

"And you understand that vague answers won't make me less frightened?"

He held my gaze. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he nodded.

"Fair enough."

He turned back toward the counter, but before he could continue the examination, a deafening crash came from the corridor.

Someone screamed. Ryan immediately moved toward the door. "Stay here," he ordered. I was already getting off the examination bed.

"Absolutely not. I'm not sitting here waiting to find out whether something wants to eat me."

"Selena, for once in your life, follow an instruction!" "How do you know I haven't followed instructions my entire life? The words escaped before I could stop them.

Something in my voice made him pause. Then another crash shook the corridor.

A nurse burst past the glass panel, screaming, "The patient in Room Four has turned! Get away from the emergency ward!"

Ryan leaped up, grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the adjoining treatment room just as a blood-covered patient appeared outside.

The man's mouth was smeared with red, and his eyes were empty. He slammed into a security guard, knocked him to the floor, and attacked him before anyone could intervene.

My blood ran cold. Ryan shoved me through the doorway.

"Inside. Now!"

I stumbled into the room, and he followed, slamming the door behind us. He locked it and dragged a metal cabinet against the entrance.

Something struck the other side hard enough to shake the handle. I backed away.

"Tell me that's not the same man who was just in the corridor," I whispered.

Ryan checked the lock. "It's not." "Wonderful, That makes me feel so much better."i said with a sign of relief.

He shot me a sharp look. "Do you ever stop talking?" "Do you ever stop giving orders?"i answered Another impact rattled the door.

We both fell silent. Through the narrow window, I saw a bloody hand slide across the glass. Then another figure appeared behind it.

"How many infected patients are in this hospital?" i asked. "Too many."he replied with a serious tone.

"That's not an answer!"i said in fear. lmmediately, a crash sounded farther down the corridor, followed by a chorus of screams.

Ryan pulled a medical trolley away from the rear wall, revealing a second door.

"Is that an exit?" I asked. "Staff passage. It connects to the service stairwell." "Then why are we still standing here?"

"Because I don't know what's waiting on the other side."He tried the handle but it was Locked.

"You're kidding me."

Ryan examined the lock, then searched his pockets for a keycard.

I looked toward the main entrance as another heavy blow landed against it. "Doctor, I think your patients want to come inside."

"Very funny, Selena." "I'm glad you appreciate my sense of humor. Now open the damn door!" He found a card and swiped it.

The lock flashed red, He tried again but still didnt open. "Come on," he muttered. The main door groaned behind us.

I grabbed a metal instrument from the trolley. Ryan glanced at me. "What are you doing?"

"If they get through that door, I'm not planning to greet them empty-handed." "You know how to use that?" "No, but I'm willing to learn."

Despite the situation, a brief, incredulous laugh escaped him. "You are unbelievable." "And you're wasting time!"i said.

He swiped the card a third time and The lock clicked.

"Move!"

He opened the door and ushered me into the narrow passage. We had barely stepped inside when the treatment room door burst open behind us.

The infected rushed into the room. I screamed as Ryan slammed the second door shut and locked it. Something crashed against it almost immediately.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the stairs. "Don't let go," he said. I tightened my grip on his hand.

"Trust me, Doctor. You're the last person I'm planning to lose in this nightmare."

He looked back at me, and for one fleeting second, our eyes met. Then a growl rose from the darkness below.

Ryan stopped. I nearly collided with his back. "What now?" I whispered. He slowly raised his finger to his lips.

A shadow moved at the bottom of the stairs, Then another. Ryan stepped in front of me, his shoulders tense. "Whatever happens," he whispered, "do exactly as I say."

I gripped the metal instrument in my free hand. "Ryan, if your next instruction is to stay calm, I swear I'll hit you with this thing." He glanced over his shoulder.

"Remind me never to make you angry." Before I could answer, the first infected person lunged out of the darkness.

And Ryan pushed me behind him as the stairwell erupted into chaos.