Chapter 1

       
Three years ago

          Kshhhhhhhh “This is your commander Seymour Neverand speaking. I would like you all to listen to this brief announcement.” Kshhhhhhhh

          My father hit our static-y television with his fist and fixed the rabbit ears so that the streaks on the picture went away. The announcement continued, zooming into a happy family sitting in their all-American, white picket fence, front yard. Seymour Neverand came back on.

            “There have been several cases reported of a virus outbreak in the nearby cities, but we do not have much information on it. However, we do wish that everyone listen carefully to the following, in order to keep you and your families safe and uncontaminated.”

          The camera now shifted to a man strapped to a hospital bed, flailing and thrashing about like a fish out of water. His mouth was foaming and his skin kept sliding off as the medics ran around him trying to find some way to calm him down. A man in a tweed jacket and khakis stepped into the panel. He gestured to the man in the bed and began his almost-certainly boring speech.

          “As I’m sure you have already heard, and unknown virus has been infecting people all over the globe as of last night. We do not know the direct source, but we do have some educated guesses as to where it might have originated. All we know so far is that it only takes seconds to spread from person to person, and it does so through bodily fluid contact suck as saliva, blood, and other liquids. Here are some rules that you must abide by, given directly from the headquarters of the Red Shield.”

          My mother and father looked at each other briefly, but said nothing. They were too awe-struck to speak. Now the announcement showed a long list of rules that we were apparently supposed to live by as of now. They went:

 

1.   If you suspect someone of having the virus, please contact the Red Shield at this number: 899, or locate a Red Shield official in your town/city. They will be posted at several locations marked with a red shield.

2.   If a family member is infected, your entire family must report them, and go to a Red Shield office for inspection in order to get the right treatment.

3.   No one is allowed to go within the fenced areas marked INFECTED, for risk oF getting the virus or letting already diagnosed victims out.

4.   No one is allowed to make any kind of contact, physical or verbal, with the infected. This may spread the virus, or upset isolated individuals.

5.   If a Red Shield officer gives you a task, you must do as they say. They are only doing it for your own well-being.

6.   Map out a route to a Safe Zone in case of emergencies. Make your family practice going the route several times so that they will know where to go and what to do if an outbreak occurs. Take nothing with you to Safe Zones, everything will be Provided for you,

7.   Go to your nearby Red Shield office and obtain a ID card which you will be using during inspection. Officers will ask for your ID so that they can make sure everyone in your house is supposed to be there.

8.   If you find food, toys, belongings, or other materials near a possible infection zone, report it to a Red Zone officer so that they can make sure it is safe for you to use.

 

“This concludes our announcement. Stay tuned for any

later additions.”

The screen went black and my family and I sat there, staring at the blank TV for what seemed like years. Before we could move or turn the on buttons on our brains, the television flickered to life once more. This time, it looked like a commercial.

          Again, Seymour Neverand came on, looking like a very constipated old man with Alzheimer’s. He cleared his non-existent throat and began with a deep monotone voice.

          “The Red Shield is currently recruiting people for these positions: Scavenger captain, two betas, three omegas, and any eligible trackers; Arial pilot, co pilot, and gunmen; Armed Guard captain, soldiers, and scouts; Eagles scouts, and shooters; and finally Pigeons. For more information on these positions, please contact Red Shield general Michael Norse. This concludes this announcement.

          My father snorted, which usually meant he was displeased. Mother and I both turned to look at him with confusion. He turned to me and focused his icy blue eyes on me. “Don’t you ever, you hear me? Ever even think for a second that I’ll let you go join that ridiculous organization. They’re like Nazis.”

My mother rolled her eyes and turned off the TV. Then she got up silently and walked to the kitchen to put away our ice cream bowls. She didn’t say anything until the next day, which was unusual for her since it was usually hard to make her be quiet.

I also went to bed in silence, almost as if I lived in a black and white movie. Everything felt so surreal. It’s not like it was unbelievable that some virus had gotten out, it was just weird to see the government freaking out about it so much. And now with all the new rules, it was hard to think that anyone could live life like they used to, which we couldn’t. I tried to sleep it all off, to forget everything, but the next day everything would change.

 

I woke up to the smell of pancakes, but they weren’t like I’d smelled them before. The scent had a hint of… some kind of wood or something. Groggily I followed it, expecting to see my mother with her perfect hair, clothes, and smile plastered across her face like it always was. But today, she was not smiling. Neither was my ever-joyful father. Both of them sat at the table, huddled over some sort of map, taking a bite out of their pancakes every now and then.

I picked up the pancake mix box from the island in the middle of our kitchen and stared at the front. There, smack dab in the middle of the unnecessarily happy housewife’s face was a sticker that read, Red Shield inspected. That was more than enough to explain the odd smell. Red Shield had probably made the stuff themselves. I walked over to the stove and took a bite out of a freshly made pancake, still sitting on the skillet. I spit it out almost instantaneously.

“What is this crap?” I croaked, washing my tongue in the sink.

“We don’t say crap in this house dear, we say manure.”  My mother replied, not looking up from the piece of paper before her. “The Red Shield dropped it off this morning, along with all the other food in the pantry and fridge. I find it rather nice.” I rolled my eyes at her. Nice or stupid, I thought.

          Just out of curiosity, I went to the fridge to see what ‘gifts’ the Red Shield had bestowed upon us. I cringed.  I found Dairy Shield (milk), Shield-oroni (ravioli in a box), Red Cheese, Red Shield Bakery Pizza, and best of all? Shield cake in the form of a red shield. How convenient.

          “I’m not eating any of that. I’ll eat out if I have to.” I stated matter-of-factly.

          My father sighed. “It won’t help. The Red Shield has forced all restaurants to use their products so that we don’t accidentally eat infected food. Also, they are coming by later today to spray the house with disinfectants.”

          I threw my arms up in defeat. “It’s like the Russian freaking Revolution!”

          “Now, now, dear, calm down and have some pancakes. Your father and I are almost done with our safety route map.” Mother coaxed.

          I tossed my backpack over my shoulder and grabbed an apple from our fruit bowl. “Nah, I think I’ll just go to school. See you guys when I get back.” As I walked down the street, I looked down at the shiny red apple. Guess what was stuck to the side of the apple? That’s right, another one of those stupid Red Shield Inspected stickers. Were they so paranoid that they’d started checking fruits vegetables too? I tossed the apple into a nearby dumpster, completely oblivious to what lurked inside.