Ps. You Are My Happiness

Happiness is the greatest form of success

-Anonymous

~.~

It all started when a neurotropic virus similar to rabies spread in the capital of the country, Cargo. The cause of the infection was never discovered as the virus spread through the country at a speed that even a lockdown or martial law couldn't control it.

The ones who didn't get infected by the virus ran away to other countries. Refugees were collected in those countries, but everyone was careful not to take them in without isolation. So the isolation processes began.

All the borders that separated Cargo got closed off forever. After a few months, once the refugees from Cargo got tested negative for the virus, my country, Ocasta, decided it was time to send a volunteer team to Cargo in search of survivors. It sounded insane in everyone's ears, but a set of volunteers, including myself, came to the Military Headquarters within a week.

"The virus is similar to rabies, and it travels via central nerves and finally affects the brain of the victim. But, the infection is caused only if the virus directly enters the bloodstream. The sick show no symptoms until it reaches the brain. The infected ones mostly target necks." the lieutenant explains.

"So do we only have to protect our necks?" one of the volunteers asks, his voice filled with a touch of scepticism and a hint of trepidation.

"No. The virus can spread from anywhere as long as it goes through the bloodstream. There are two methods by which one can get infected. Either by getting bitten by an infected or getting scratched by one."

Whispers and murmurs spread in the meeting room. Everyone seems to be having second thoughts about coming here.

"We are done with sharing the basic information about the situation. If you still wish to volunteer in this journey, follow Captain Kyle to the front office."

A few walk out of the room, fearing they might catch the virus if they volunteer. I watch half of the volunteers leave. I guessed it right. They were here in the first place to gain whatever it is, thinking it'll be a piece of cake. But now that they got to know it's going to be a deadly mission, they are leaving.

I stand up and walk to Captain Kyle. I stand by his side until a handful of volunteers stand beside me. As the meeting room clears up, Captain Kyle takes us to the front office, where we get sent to rooms to rest for today.

In the next few days, we learn more about the infected ones and learn survival instincts. We get divided into three groups, with four in each team. When the day comes for us to leave, they provide us with a black uniform and several weapons for our safety.

I get ready in the dormitory with others and buckle up my uniform.

"You don't talk much, do you?" someone asks me.

I shake my head, "If I have a reason to."

"My name's Eric Holmes. We are on the same team."

"Andrea Foster."

"I thought getting to know each other beforehand would be better. You know, I can have your back on the battlefield while you can have mine."

"I think it's better with no strings attached. You won't have to cry when I die." I pat his shoulder, walking toward my locker.

I collect my weapons and carefully examined their gleaming surfaces, placing them in their respective places in the uniform.

"If you get injured, do you want me to leave you to die?" Eric asks.

"You have a point. I'll appreciate the help." I look at him. "But if you are in danger because of me, you better run."

It makes Eric laughs a bit.

"Sure. Let's do this without dying," he says.

~.~

The gates of the borders close behind us just as we enter the southern part of Cargo. We know that they won't open it again. Even if we scream and call out for help, they won't open. The only method is to use the smoke gun, which will shoot out blue smoke in the air, which they have provided us with. To use only once.

"What's the plan?" I ask Eric as I stare at the prominent parking lot in front of us. It's an outdoor parking space of a supermarket, and the surrounding is suspiciously silent.

He looks around us for a minute. "This is the southern part of Cargo, where approximately ten-thousand people used to live. Assuming more than half is infected... we can't simply run through this area."

"You've done your homework," I say.

"Of course. However, we better avoid clear areas because we won't find anywhere to run or hide if an infected one comes after us." Eric looks at the team leader of team 2, "Does your walkie-talkie work?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Let's divide and make sure to walk in a straight line covering three streets. If something happens, ring it in." Eric says to everyone, who nods at his words. He surprisingly makes a good leader.

He takes the lead in our group, and I walk behind him. We crouch down next to the vehicles and sneak in past the supermarket, where we check if anyone is in there beforehand. Once we are sure there is no one, we walk past the supermarket, and we come to a street. It is filled with little houses and shops.

The other groups choose different streets, and we choose the middle one. We hold our rifles in front of us, aiming at here and there as we walk slowly, afraid we might make any sound.

"Stop," I whisper when I hear a grumbling sound coming in from a shop.

I make the rest of the team stay behind and walk toward the shop, where I carefully peek through the windows to check what that sound is.

My eyes widen when I find a man in the middle of the shop dragging his feet back and fore while his head twisted in different directions. The old blood that has seeped from his mouth is currently tattooed on his face. His eyes look white as if he has a cataract.

Just then, we hear fast footsteps coming from behind. A man runs toward us, and as he gets closer, we realise it's an infected one with his arm twisted to a weird angle and face covered with blood. We start running in the opposite direction, but one team member stops in his tracks, too afraid to move another inch.

"Run!!" I shout at him, but it is too late. Because the next thing we know, the infected man jumps at the neck of our team member. We watch in horror as he gets bitten by the monstrous man, and I run toward them to save our team member.

Beating me, the other team member goes to the scene where he wrestles with the infected man. He almost wins the fight, but the first team member who was bitten gets infected and bites him. I hold out my gun and try to shoot, but Eric stops me.

"If we shoot, they are all going to come here," he says.

He's right.

"Run."

We started running in the opposite direction as fast as we could. While running, we don't look where we are heading. And before we know we are in a clearing area, coming face-to-face with a tribe of infected people.

Their heads twist and turn in our direction. Their teeth bare, and blood seeping out of them.

My heart races a mile realising this is the end. And this whole infection is just... people preying on people. Nothing more. This means this isn't a normal infection but a monstrous one that can take a person's conscience away.

They seem mindless.

They look like walking dead.

Happiness depends on ourselves

-Aristotle

~.~

I hold out my rifle and shoot at whoever's coming at us. Their heads blow, shoulders break, and they fall on the ground at the impact of the bullets. Eric imitates me and shoots in all directions. But we are outnumbered by hundreds, and even the fallen ones rise to their legs right in front of us.

We step back while shooting at the people. And suddenly, we hear the roaring of a vehicle. Within a few seconds, in front of our eyes, a vehicle smashes over the infected ones and stops in front of us. Its door flings open in front of me.

"Get in!" someone shouts from inside.

Without giving another thought, I get into the vehicle while shooting at the infected ones who are still coming after us. Eric gets behind me, and we close the door. The pounding in my heart drops as the door closes, putting a barrier between the walking dead and us. After calming down, only I look around