THE BEGINNING;

ONE; monster

    Saturday night had been huge, and now all Rosita wanted to do was nothing. Every muscle in her body felt loose and weak. Her head jolted with pain.

    The feeling was awful, but she could think of things that hurt more than a Sunday morning hangover.

    She wanted to sleep, so that she could awake up again in an hour or two and feel better, but her body wouldn't let her drift off during the day.
Instead, she lay under her bedsheets and read a book.

    To her, reading and sleeping were quite similar. Like dreaming; reading seemed to take her somewhere else. Books where her remedy.

    "Rosita?" Her brother was standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

    Michael Espinosa waited patiently for his sister to reply.

    She glanced over the top of her novel, and sat up, still under her blanket. As soon as she lifted her head from the pillow, her throbbing headache returned.

    "Yeah?" She groaned, not intending to sound so fatigued.

    "Lucy and David needed us to water their garden while they're away, remember?" There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. He needed his sister's help.

    She stared at him sleepily, and frowned.

    "Seriously?"

    "You're coming with me." He tried to sound serious, but he just couldn't.

    She pulled the covers halfway over her face and snuggled into her bed; reluctant to do anything.

    "You can't sit in bed all day." He muttered.

    "I was reading."

    She groaned, pushed the sheets away from her face and slid out of bed. Her feet felt stiff on the cold floorboards.

    "Could you please get out my room?" Was something she would've said to Michael when she was twelve, but she found herself saying it now, as a twenty-one year old.

    She put on a jacket and some shoes and tied her hair long, black hair back in ponytail

    Michael waited for her at the front door, leaning against the wall. He wasn't in a hurry.

    She still felt drowsy.

    The sun was peering through the clouds as she stepped out the door, yet the air was so cold; almost refreshing.

    They approached their neighbours' front garden. Rosita glanced at Michael when she saw that their car was still parked in the driveway.
He shrugged.

    "You said they were going away." She doubted him.

    "Lucy told me they were leaving last night." He frowned.

    "Well obviously not. I'm going back home." She mumbled, annoyed.

    "No, wait. We should check on them first, otherwise they'll think we're unreliable. Then you can read for the rest of the day, and I won't ask for help with anything." He turned and kept walking towards the house.

    She yawned, feeling irritable, but followed him to their front door.

    Michael was standing on their doorstep, while Rosita was still making her way through the front garden.
Their house seemed empty, but he knocked on the hard timber door, just in case.

    She heard a faint voice, calling from inside the house.

    "Please, come in," the voice almost seemed to be begging.

    Michael heard it as well. Hesitating, he placed a hand on the gold-painted door knob, and slowly turned it.

    He pushed the door open, silent as he possibly could, but the slower he moved it, the more the rusty hinges creaked.

    The inside of their neighbours' house was dim, and smelt awful. The cold weather outside was nothing compared to the icy feeling inside their home. The cold chilled the back of her neck and worked its way done her spine.

    "Lucy?"

    "I'm here," she whimpered.

    Lucy sat in the corner of the hallway, leaning against a wall. The youngest of her three children lay in her lap.
Red droplets dotted her white shirt.

    "What happened to you?" Michael exclaimed.

    She said nothing. When it was clear that she wouldn't stand, Michael knelt down beside her.

    Her jeans were torn on both her thighs and one of her ankles, and so was the skin underneath.

    "Where's David?" Rosita forced the question.

    "My husband and the boys are outside. They're sick." She whispered.

    "With the fever?" Asked Michael.

    "No... it's not that. My son had the fever yesterday... but now they've all gone insane, like monsters. They were biting me." She frowned as if she had forgotten something.

    Neither Rosita nor Michael knew what to say.
Rosita examined the wounds on Lucy's legs. Bites?

    "What about Danielle?" Michael turned his attention to the girl resting in Lucy's lap.

    The tips of her curly blonde hair were stained red. He gently tucked her hair behind her shoulder to reveal a bloody gash along her neck.

    "It's too late." Lucy shook her head and sobbed, dripping a tear on Danielle's cold cheeks.

    Her hands and fingers shook with grief as she pushed Danielle's hair over her neck to cover the fatal wound.

    A feeling of dread replaced Rosita's splitting headache.

    "I'm sorry," Rosita said, quietly.

    Lucy gazed down at her daughter's pale face. She looked up at Rosita, and then to Michael.

    "Lucy, I'm calling an ambulance." She told her, calmly.

    She unzipped the pocket of her black jacket, and took out her phone. She turned it on and waited, but after a few seconds, the low battery sign flashed on the screen. Shit.

    "No battery," she muttered.

    "There's an old mobile on the kitchen bench." Croaked Lucy.

    Their kitchen was around the corner from the hallway. The phone was in an obvious spot on the kitchen table, next to some keys, and a pile of unopened letters.

    It was an old, red and black Samsung flip phone, but it would do. She flipped it opened and began pressing the tiny number keys.

    A voice recording began on the other side.

    "For an ambulance, press 1"

    She pressed one immediately, not bothering to hear the full recording.

    "Hello, how can I help?" A woman answered the phone.

    "I'm at 26 Dayne Avenue," she began, "my neighbour has severe bite wounds on her legs... and a girl has died."

    "We'll be there in five minutes, until then stay away from your neighbour and the girl."

    The call ended.

    Stay away from your neighbour and the girl. Rosita didn't understand what she meant, but one day, that rule would be the key to survival.

    Lucy's sobbing became louder.

    "Oh my god," she heard her gasp, relieved.

    Rosita turned back into the hallway to see what was going on.

    "Dani?" She whispered.

    Danielle's pale fingers began to twitch, and then slowly touch Lucy's face. She smiled, wiping tears from her eyes. Her lips moved slightly, still an awful shade of blue, but she began breathing.

    Dani's nails brushed across Lucy's cheek. Her hand gripped her face, and she dug her nails under her skin.

    Lucy winced, holding her daughter's wrist so she couldn't scratch at her. Her cheek began to bleed.

    The young girl they had mistaken for dead, opened her eyes.

    "No..." Lucy whispered.

    "What is it?" Michael asked, concerned.

    Danielle's eye colour had gone from a deep hazel, to pale pink.

    "Their eyes were like that too... when they became monsters." She sighed.

    Michael lifted Dani off of Lucy's lap. Lucy's vague way of explaining did not help the situation.

    "Leave the house and shut the door behind you, she'll attack you otherwise." Lucy told them.

    Dani's movements were slow, she lay on the floor boards, scratching her nails along the wood. She gazed at Lucy with her ghostly eyes. She didn't look human anymore.

    "We're not leaving you here," Rosita said.

    She grabbed Lucy's hand and went under her arm to support her as they made their way out the door.

    Dani lifted herself up off of the floor, and limped towards the two of them, like a walking rag doll.

    "Come on!" Michael shouted.

    The girl crept towards Lucy, and began grasping at her feet.
Rosita almost pushed her out the front door, following close behind, and slamming it shut with Danielle inside.

    "Is that what happened to David and the others?" Michael asked, shocked at what he'd seen.

    Lucy panted, "they were worse than she was."

    Rosita was pulled by Lucy's weight, as she collapsed.

    "Lucy?" She shook her, "Lucy?"

    She opened her eyes slightly. Her face was pale and sweaty. Rosita placed a palm on her forehead. Warm.

    It's the fever, isn't it?" Lucy muttered.

    She sighed. "Yeah..."

___________

    She heard the siren of an ambulance approaching in the distance. A feeling of relief rushed through her veins, her muscles felt less tense.

    For the past few minutes, her and Michael had been tending to Lucy.
The front door rattled, as if someone on the other side was shaking it wildly. And somebody was. Dani growled and hissed, still locked in the house, but Rosita could hear her, making her heart shudder.

    The ambulance came screaming down the street, lighting up the road with red and blue, and parking beside the path. A police car, and a black van followed close behind.

    Nurses, doctors, and police rushed across the grass towards the house, not noticing her or Michael.

    "We can take care of her now. Thank you." A nurse gave Rosita a warm smile.

    "What do we do now?" Michael wondered aloud.

    "Go home... I guess." She couldn't help but notice the group of cops that had surrounded the house, all holding guns.

    Did they know what was in there?

    Rosita felt a hand tap her shoulder. She turned immediately.

    "I told you to stay away from them." Another nurse stared at her, frustrated at her failure to follow instructions.

    She was short and stocky, her pale brown hair was tied back tightly in a neat bun. In her left hand was a clipboard, and in her right, a pen.

    "It's too late now," the nurse sighed.

    Rosita didn't know how to respond. A series of strange events had been thrown at her out of nowhere, and no one was able to explain why.

    "Your names?" Asked the nurse, lifting the clipboard.

    "Rosita and Michael Espinosa."

    She scribbled down a few things with the pen.

    "You and your partner need to come with me-" the nurse beckoned them towards the black van.

    "He's my brother," Rosita muttered.

    "Right- when I told you to stay away I meant it... that woman has the fever, and trust me, that new virus being spread is much worse than people say."

    Her eyes narrowed. She wanted to hear more.

    "You've both been exposed to it, and we can't risk letting you in public to potentially spread it." The nurse sighed. "Cellphones please."

    Rosita reached into her pant pocket and pulled her dead phone out for the nurse. Michael did the same.

    "What... so you're just gonna lock us up like animals?" Rosita questioned.

    The door of the van was slid open, waiting for the two of them to step in.

    I'm sorry, but you don't have a choice in this." The nurse gestured toward the van.

    Michael went in first, and sat down on the metal bench that lined the inside of the vehicle.

    "You heard what she said, Rosita, we have to." He rested his head in his palm and stared into space.

    There was one, large sliding door, which the nurse shut, and no windows. The only light came from the windscreen.

    A strange feeling came over Rosita, as she sat opposite her brother in silence. She felt weak and confused. She felt trapped.

___________

_