CHAPTER ONE
The pillow over my face isn't doing anything more than muffling the sound of the alarm clock. Why hasn't my father shut it off already?

Outside my window the sun is shining brightly, but not a single soul is outside. It’s the quietest I had ever heard the New York City Bubble be- except for that alarm clock beeping. Ugh! What reason would he have to not get up and turn it off? A 17 year old girl needs her sleep!

Before I can even think, my hand reaches for my phone without realizing that it’s Saturday; a non-service day. My phone can’t do anything more than tell me that it’s 7 o’clock and 90 degrees outside. But, the thermometer seems a bit off today, so again, my phone is useless.

Instinctively, I get up to grab my hairpin and put up all of my annoying little hairs, even though I know I really don’t need to. Mr. Parsley usually keeps his door open for me, but in the rare case that he doesn’t, I lock pick his door with my hairpins. I don’t ever actually need to get in his house, but it’s my sanctuary. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know half the things I do about the world’s history. Any day that I need to get away, Mr. Parsley has been my escape.
Opening my bedroom door, I see no one; no little brothers or sisters running through the house, no dogs or cats fighting. Surely, no one is sleeping through the alarm clock. If I couldn't, how can they?

First, checking the halls for intruders, I begin to search the house with only two explanations in my head. One; my family is waiting for me to turn off the alarm clock where they then hop out and scare me, or two; something has happened to my family and I'm next.

Making it to the first bedroom door, I gently open it giving my family plenty of time to jump out. However, the room is clean and the bed is made. My brother's room, clean and empty? It's a sure sign that they're all messing with me.
There are only three rooms to check though, only so many places to hide. They can’t scare me for much longer. Even with the hopeful thought of my family trying to pull a prank, I can still feel the fear pulsing through my veins when heading to the second room. If they’re going to get me, I hope they do it now.
The room was the same as the first though, with no one hiding in the closets or under the beds. Luckily, if there is a murderer hiding in the third room, he won’t be able to hear me panting in anxiety over the sound of the alarm clock.

After what feels like an eternity, I make it to the final bedroom. There’s no need to open the bedroom door because it’s unhinged and lying on the floor. The crib is knocked over and the entire room is ransacked; everything of value is gone. No one is in here either.

The alarm clock had become comforting after considering that it’s the only thing keeping the house from being completely silent, and more importantly, from someone hearing me. If there is a killer loose, I don't want him to know that I'm still here.

I walk over to the window to stare out of it. If the streets were full, everything would look normal. But, if everyone left for some sort of event, wouldn’t I have heard about it? I have to consider that maybe my family has left me. It could be an easily plausible explanation. The eldest of five children, left all alone. I should be able to take care of myself. They have no reason to worry about me.

Ugh, these are just thoughts filled with fear. I know my family wouldn’t leave me without a good reason. I should be more worried about what has happened to them. But, they are all gone, which means they left together.
“They are okay. I am okay. I have nothing to be afraid of.” I whisper quietly, to help convince me that it’s true.

Why is it still so quiet outside? Generally, our bubble buzzes and sounds like a little bee flying around. Today, I can’t even hear that.

Thinking back to history class, what did I learn about bubbles? I know that hundreds of years ago, they didn’t even have them! A virus was released and destroyed 75% of the world’s population. Of course that was a long time ago, not even my parent's parents had been born yet. I don't even understand why they call it a bubble because really, it's a typical city with a huge force field around it all. After the population had been killed off, the remaining survivors were assigned to cities in hope of successful re-population. The bubble protects us from the remaining infected.
All that has ever mattered at home was that we followed the basic rules; don't be disruptive, and don't leave the bubble. I've never even seen outside the city, and I know my family wouldn't have much interest in leaving it, but is it possible that they were just tired of this place?

Before I can think any further, I hear the flip of a switch and the alarm clock shut off. It’s deadly silent. I don’t want to turn around and see who is there. The sound of his breathing is filling my mind and surely there’s no way I can escape when I'm all the way by the window, and he is in front of the door.

So, I turn around quickly, waiting for the blunt object that he or she has to hit me with. But, there is no flying object or murderer. Standing before me is only my sister, my seven year old sister.

Thousands of questions swarm in my head. “What are you doing here-”. Before I could finish the question, another had slipped into my head. “Where is everyone else?”

Rather than answer my question, she shook her head to signify that she too didn't know where anyone was.

“I don’t know what to do. Where would everyone go? Why did they just leave us? Would they go outside the bubble or did the city all agree to meet somewhere? Do you know anything?” The questions can’t leave my mouth soon enough, I have so much to ask her.

After a long silence she says, “No, but the only way to find out, is to look.”

Grabbing her hand and guiding her outside, we quietly search for any sign of life. In a city like New York, you shouldn't have to look very far to find someone. New York only has 5 districts and we live in the first. It’s the biggest of all of them and certainly has more people than any other.
Rather than continuing to walk around aimlessly, we turn back around to Mr. Parsley’s house. His front door is locked so I pull out my hair pin and have it open in seconds. Usually he is sitting in his orange recliner, next to the fire with a book in his hands. However, he isn’t today.
After walking fifteen feet into the living room, I can see huge spots of blood on the floor. Whoever it came from, surely didn’t survive. With Ima following my every step, I don’t want to look through the house for whatever body is lying around; it’s better to not know.
After running back outside, I collapse onto the concrete. My family can’t be in danger, there has to be something that we are forgetting. They have to be okay. They are okay.
But there isn't anything except for that alarm clock! Last night was a regular night, eating dinner and watching TV, there isn't anything to retrace! With my mind becoming so clouded, I have to sit up on the sidewalk just to get a deep breath.

“All you have to do is think, start with the basics Sam.” That's Ima for you, always trying to help others when they should be helping her. There are so many things happening right now that a typical 7 year old wouldn’t understand, but then again, Ima isn’t your typical seven year old.
Her brown hair is covering her face, but through the strip of skin showing, I see the tears falling. She may only be seven, but I haven't seen my sister cry in years. She was one of the military’s trainees and has the intelligence level of a 60 year old scholar. But, even with that intelligence, she is still only 7, and her emotions definitely show it.

“Well, today is Saturday.” I sarcastically whisper, but then it hits me. “That's it! Nothing happens on Saturdays!”

Ima just stood and stared out behind me, ignoring me as if I’m crazy. “Ima, think about it. Saturday is the only day I sleep in, and I'm not the only one who does. When have you ever seen dad set an alarm on a Saturday?” Clearly seeing she didn't get the hint, I continue, “He must have set it with hopes that we would get up and see it!”

Rather than agree with me, she points behind me. Her eyes are glowing with terror. But when I turn around, I see my brother- why would Ima be afraid of Joseph?

“Hey Joseph, come-” Ima covers my mouth before I can continue while tugging at my arm. I can see blood on the back of his shirt, so for whatever reason that she doesn’t want him to hear us, I don’t fight her.

Once back in the house, she ran to every door and window making sure they’re locked. I could care less if they are so I just follow her. “Hello, Ima? That was our brother out there.”

She put a finger over her mouth while guiding me towards a window. I can see the front of my brother outside and... He looks nothing like my brother. His face is pale and covered in blood. His shirt has bullet holes, and he has a major limp. There’s an empty look on his face and I can't even see him breathing.

How is he not breathing? After closing the blinds I whisper, “Ima, what's going on? How do you know that Joseph doesn't need us? Or even better, that he isn't coming to get us?”

Her silence is painful. What's the worst that can happen if we call out to him from the window?

Through the tiny crack of a window, I say, “Joseph! Hey, we're over here!” When he figured out where the sound was coming from he sprinted towards us. Even with all of his severe wounds, he didn't look like he was in pain.

When he reached the window, he hit it and screamed. “Joseph, are you okay? Where is everyone?” He didn't appear to hear me and if he did, he’s choosing not to acknowledge me.

Afraid of someone hearing him screaming, I take Ima to our attic. It hasn't been opened in years but it's the safest place for us to go. I should have at least checked up here for my family earlier.

After climbing into the attic, we can clearly see that we’re alone. I had slightly hoped my family would be hiding up here and we could all figure this out together. My hopes are crushed.
I can still hear Joseph's screams from outside. Something is wrong with him. I pray my entire family doesn’t have whatever he does. On the other hand, if he isn’t with them, it should be safe to say that the rest of them are okay. But, oh god, Joseph is only 14. If he is sick, and I don’t help him and he dies, it’ll be my fault.

“Sam, what if the virus is back? What if Joseph has it and New York has been infected?”

We were always taught that the world has had plenty of deadly sicknesses. There were plagues that killed people, cancer, and then the z-virus, all of which had no cures. With the z-virus, anyone who was infected was killed. Most people refer to it as the zombie virus because when a person is infected, they want to eat and infect another person. The difference between the virus and the fictional stories is that these people are still alive.

A person infected with the zombie virus has a slowed heart rate, almost to a complete stop and their brain has so little that functions that they might as well be dead. They have no supernatural speed or biting powers. To eat you, there would need to be more than one coming at you. Imagine if someone came up to bite you, it wouldn't hurt very much and probably wouldn't even infect you unless it broke the skin. What made the virus so deadly was that a large group was infected and they moved towards other groups of people until there was so many that it was impossible to fight them off.

Months upon months later, research showed us that the virus was started by a human. Someone or even a group of people had been infecting the water and poisoning as many people as they could. They were never caught and no one understands what the purpose was.

But... Regardless of what these infected people do, they aren't dead. The infected are still alive even if they can't control their own mind. One shot to the head would kill them just as it would any other average person. Even after 350 years there still isn't a cure or vaccine developed. If Joseph is infected, it's all happening again and-

“We're all going to die.” There is no energy in me to disagree with Ima. Either we shoot the ones we love, or we become like them and wait to die.

Even if we decided we wanted to fight to live, only the military personnel has guns and we wouldn't even know where to find them. With Joseph outside screaming still, there's no way we can go out there without killing him, and what if we’re wrong about the virus being back? We’ll have hurt him for no reason.

“So what do we do?” There are plenty of things for us to do, but the plan has a better chance of being successful if Ima constructs it. I can only hope that her emotions don’t get in the way.

“We don’t know what Joseph has. Until we’re certain, we shouldn’t hurt him. However, if he does have it, we kill him. Yes, it’ll be sad, but he isn’t our brother anymore and there’s no cure for what he has. We’ll be saving lives by killing him.” Ima said quietly.

I can’t disagree with her, she has many valid points. However, how do we kill our own brother? Not only emotionally do we need to prepare but physically too. What happens if we aren’t strong enough? What if he infects one of us and we infect the other and then all three of us die?

“We try to talk to him first.” Ima said while grabbing the baseball bat from the corner.
After taking our time downstairs, I reach for the handle to the door closest to Joseph. Time feels like it’s slowed down, everything is waiting for me to open the door.
After the clock ticks, and the door opens, the city alarm rings and the sound of bullets fills the air. Joseph's screams go quiet and there is a thud from his body hitting the floor. There is no time to think about him, we jump on the floor to signify that we are living and breathing people; please don’t shoot us.
Footsteps come running towards us, but I can’t see who is picking me up and squeezing me because of the tears in my eyes. I try to wipe them away but he just squeezes tighter and embraces me in a deeper hug.
It has to be my dad, who else would be here to save our lives? My family is fine, and everything is going to be okay.
“Sam, I’m so sorry about your brother. Where is the rest of your family?”
The rest of my family? I push the stranger away and force the tears to fall back. This strange voice does not belong to my dad. And after the tears clear away, I can see that the face belongs to Mr. Parsley.
“Parsley? I thought that you- I thought that you all were my family.” Standing behind him was a familiar 30 faces or so, all from around the community.
“Oh dear, we’re so sorry. There isn’t much time to explain, but the bubble has broken down. The infected have made it inside and we need to close it as soon as possible.” An older woman, about 60, in a bright yellow dress stares at me as if I should recognize her, but I don’t.
So my brother was infected, and it is all starting again. My family isn’t okay and we aren’t all going to save the day. With the bubble being broken, we’re all sitting ducks. Only the military and their trainees know how to fix-
“Ima can fix the bubble.” I say with confidence.
Ima stares blankly at me before saying, “Sam, I only know the basics of it all. The wiring could take days, and if something is broken or needs replaced, we won’t have the time to get it.” All of the faces around her nodded in agreement.
“Where is the military at? Any other trainees? I don’t see any here. Ima is going to be our only hope.” I need to convince them because if the wrong person tries to fix it, they could break it beyond repair.
“So what do you suggest then, Sam?” the woman in the yellow dress asks.
“We need to split up. The bubble can be wired from here in district 1, but for all we know, there could be other survivors in the other districts. The majority need to go and find those people, while two or three come with Ima and me to help defend us from whatever we may encounter. We will fix the bubble.” I hadn’t even put any thought to it, the plan just came out naturally.

“Anyone who disagrees with this plan can raise their hand.” No hands were raised. “Good, now who would like to come with Ima and me?”

The woman in the yellow dress steps forward, Mr. Parsley, and a younger boy who I’m not familiar with.
“We won’t have any way to keep in contact with each other. The phone towers were built around the bubble. With the bubble being down, they don’t function. This morning it was saying that the temperature was 90, so they are certainly becoming overheated very quickly.” The younger boy said. His voice showed that he was around the same age as me.
I assumed the thermometers were broken and that-
“I’ll try to rewire those first so that we can keep in touch.” Ima says while interrupting my thoughts without a shred of doubt in her voice.
After a moment of silence, I say, “We should get started. Take what we need with us, and prepare to head out.” I know that if we have to walk all the way up to the towers and then to the bubble station, we’re going to need food and blankets. After climbing to the top of these, we aren’t going to want to climb back down. However, the station will be filled with tools, so we don’t need those.
As I was starting to walk away, the young man pulled me to the side. “I’m so sorry about your family. I didn’t have any choice about your brother- I had to... I used to have Calculus with him, we were friends... I’m sorry.” I hadn’t thought about my brother’s death at all. I don’t want to, we have so many other things to worry about.
“Do I know you?” I say impatiently.
“My name is Jack. I- we had history together for the last four years, Sam.”
I smile back apologetically and walk away. I can grieve later, this guy isn’t going to help. My main focus is to help save whoever I can. I only hope he doesn’t get in the way.

After catching up with Ima back in the house, I help pack three medium sized backpacks. All of us will carry one but her; she is far too tiny and already going to be so busy.

“Girls, are you ready?” Mr. Parsley calls out as if we’re going to school rather than trying to stay alive.
Ima looks up at me as I grab the backpacks and begin to head towards the boys. “We aren't alone.” Ima and I say in unison with a glimmer of hope that we can actually make it.