Read Rise of the Plague (Book 0): The Sickness (Monte's Story) for Free Online Page A

risk, not to mention the towns beyond,” He says with empathy in his voice.   
    I nod my head at him and watch him turn on a heel and go back toward the barricade. Taking in his words, I am finding myself both understanding his viewpoint, but also resenting him for the deaths of the regular people. I don’t know what he could have done differently, or even, if it was possible to save those people. I do know that those soldiers saved all of us at the camp by using their guns, but all those people are still dead, sick or not.
    Turning toward the school bus, I take my time shuffling over. I’m trying to decide whether or not to still be angry about the massacre or put it behind me—along with all that has happened today. The bus’s engine is roaring and ready to go. As I make my way up the steps, I see the sweet woman who told me about the bus. She is standing beside the first seat, behind the driver, welcoming on new passengers. She reminds me a little of a hostess at a fancy restaurant. Her warm smile is welcomed, but then, she unexpectedly pulls me into an embrace. I awkwardly hug her back. The feeling is so bizarre, but I understand that she is attempting to be comforting.
    My family had never really been the hugging type. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve had a hug, with this woman’s embrace included.
    “You take a seat anywhere pumpkin. It will all be alright,” she says.
    I take notice of a soldier sitting across from the woman. He is dressed in camo, with a blonde buzz cut and looks like he’s only a handful of years older than me. As I walk past him, he looks up from a clipboard and gives me a frosty stare with his glowing blue eyes.
    The bus is nearly full, as I walk down the aisle looking for a seat. Chatter fills the bus. Everyone is explaining their stories of how they made it out or what happened to their loved ones. A few of the riders are sobbing and wiping tears from their faces. Even with most of the windows open, the pungent smell of body odor pollutes the bus. Halfway down the aisle, I see that nearly all the seats are taken. I might have to stand. How long is this ride anyway? This day can’t get any better .
    “Monte, is that you?” a delicate voice sounds.
    I look all around, but can’t find anyone familiar. Then a waving hand from the back catches my eye. I hurry toward the wagging hand, eager to find the owner. After squeezing by a gabby guy in the aisle, chatting up a cute girl, I see that the hand belongs to—Annabelle Sanchez. Oh God .
    Annabelle Sanchez is the snobbiest girl at my high school, hands down—there is no competition. She comes from a family with money, and has on many occasions been shamefully wicked to me and my friends. Of all the people to find me on the bus, Annabelle is the last one I want to see.
    “Monte, come sit over here,” she says with an unusually friendly smile on her face.
    If she is trying to play some embarrassing trick on me, I swear, I’m going to kick her ass. I’m not going to take her crap—not today, not after what I’ve been through.
    I take the seat beside Annabelle and offer nothing more than a nod at first. I look around, but don’t see her usual clan of tormentors anywhere around us.
    “I’m so glad to see a familiar face,” Annabelle says. “Since this morning, I haven’t seen anyone I knew, until now.”
    “Me neither,” I mumble.
    “I don’t know what happened to my family. They have a disease or something,” Annabelle says with tears in her eyes.
    “Mine too.”
    Maybe Annabelle and I are not that different from one another. Take away her fancy clothes and fake friends; reduce her to the same situation as me and she’s not that different. She called out to me on the bus, not because we’re friends, or because she wanted to play some embarrassing joke on me, because I’m the only thing familiar to her in this mess. And she is the only thing familiar to me. Honestly, I am glad she called me