Fiction · Uncategorized

Memorandum

Memorandum #2713

In April 2005, there was an accident. The Brazilian cargo ship Diminua Morte left port from Ceara, Brazil headed across the Atlantic to dock in Cadiz, Spain. The ship, unbeknownst to the crew, was carrying among its cargo, the dismembered remains of an autopsy patient for further study among the experts of the Universidad Complutense de Madrid. The word of the day is: Oops.

The body of one Marco San Juan was last seen being stuffed into a crate and placed in the brig to be carefully watched by a select few individuals whose identities are unknown. The reason being that the body of one Marco San Juan was last seen kicking and moaning despite his heart, liver, and small intestine being removed during autopsy. The scientists in Madrid never saw their unusual delivery as the ship was discovered two hundred miles off the coast of Ireland 96 days after its scheduled arrival in Spain. The word of the day is: Suspicious.

6 months later the first reports of attacks in Ireland hit the airwaves. Two weeks later all communication to and from the nation of Ireland was ceased and the island was quarantined by the United Nations. The news said it was a virus. A mutated form of leprosy that infected all of those that came into contact with a victim. Symptoms included open sores, vomiting of blood, loss of bowel control, convulsions, toxic shock, and death within forty-two hours. There is no reason to fret, the situation is under control. The word of the day is: Lies.

In December 2006, reports of viral outbreaks in Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Florida aired on American news stations. In two days the virus had spread to thirty of the fifty states. It was said to be carried by rats and other rodent vermin. Many compared it to The Plague. Many said the Second Coming was nigh. The word of the day is: Repent.

By January 2007, the President of the United States declared martial law. Stay indoors, 7 p.m. curfew, those that do not comply will be exterminated. Ration your food, ration munitions. We have nothing to fear, but fear itself. Stay calm, keep hope, survive. We will overcome, we will rebuild. The word of the day is: Panic.

By July 2007, there was no law. Communication was limited to word of mouth and makeshift radio broadcast. Cities were overrun with what we assumed to be the dead. Those of us still alive sought safety in numbers. But numbers only meant someone else might die first. There were 18 of us in July. There were 7 of us in August. The word of the day is: Fucked.

Today is February 4th, 2008. I write this to keep record in case we don’t survive. There are three of us now: Marco, Christina, and myself. We’ve taken refuge in an abandoned house. We lose hope every day. We haven’t seen a survivor in nine weeks. The word of the day is: Alone.

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