Free Dead Days (Book 1): Mike by Tom Hartill Page B

can I help?”  The voice isn’t Phil’s, its Becky’s.  She works on my floor, has done for two years.  She’s a nice girl, not the brightest, but sweet.  I think she kissed me once at an office party.
    “Becky?  It’s Mike, where’s Phil?”
    “Mike hi!  I don’t know, to be honest I haven’t seen him at all this morning. I thought that might be him calling.”
    “Oh ok, well I was just ringing to say that I won’t be coming in, I-”
    “Well there’s a surprise.”
    “What do you mean?”  I reply defensively.
    “Mike, hardly anyone’s in.  It’s just me and Darren on our whole floor.”
    “Really?  Is it the riots?”
    “I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the riots but you’re only the second person that’s called in.  Kevin called earlier but I think he was properly ill, he was coughing the whole time he was talking anyway.”
    She lowers her voice.
    “I’m thinking I might just go home, there doesn’t seem much point.  Plus Darren’s acting weird.  Someone tried to mug him this morning on his way to work and now he’s all freaked out.”
    I can almost see her rolling her eyes.  Still, it is a little weird that hardly anyone went in today.  Maybe things are worse than I thought. 
     
    Suddenly I want to talk to Tess.  Just to make sure she’s alright. 
     
    “Maybe you should go home Becky, things are starting to look quite bad.”
    “You think?”  She sounds suddenly nervous.
    “Well, you may as well take the day right?  Everyone else is.”  I force my voice to sound cheery, but all I really want to do is hang up.
    “Ok Mike, well I guess I’ll go home then, thanks.”
    “Good, and just be careful on your way back.”
    “I will.  See you soon.”
    “Bye Becky.”
    “Bye.”
    I hang up and immediately call Tess.  The phone goes through to her answering machine but I don’t know what to say so I don’t leave a message.  She’s probably busy, but I’d feel better if I knew she was at home.
          I turn the TV back to the news.  A field reporter is interviewing a young doctor who looks pale and frightened.
     
    “The principal cause of injury that we’re seeing here isn’t blunt force or trauma consistent with what you might expect from a riot or protest.  Most of the wounds that we are treating are actually…” 
     
    He swallows and looks off camera for a moment
        
    “Most of the injuries we are treating at present appear to be ragged lacerations or cuts, indicative of scratches, or….”
    The reporter, a pretty young black woman, looks confused.
    “Or?”
    “It’s possible that they may be… bites.”
    “Bites?  Sorry doctor are you saying that these injuries are animal bites?”
    “No.”
    My stomach drops a little as I realise the doctor is close to tears.
    “The bites appear to be-”
    “Turn those cameras off please.”  Another doctor, older, a consultant has walked into shot and is ushering the younger doctor down the corridor.  He turns back to the camera.  “I said can you turn those off?  We are dealing with a difficult situation and until we know more it’s not helpful to speculate on-”
    The reporter cuts him off.
    “Doctor, we’ve just learned that people are being admitted with bite wounds, can you tell us more about-”
    “That is not the case!  As I say, we will deliver an official statement when we know more, but as I say, now is simply not-”
    The sound of a crash cart can be heard off camera and a team of nurses wheel a gurney behind the doctor, a young man lying on it is having some kind of seizure.
    “I have to go, please-”
    “Doctor, do you have any advice for the public?”
    “Yes, get off the streets and go home!”  He turns and follows the gurney.  The report cuts back to the anchorwoman in the studio, who looks momentarily bewildered.
     
    “Er, there we have a slightly confused report from St George’s hospital in south London… I should apologise to any viewers at home who