Chapter Text
14 January 2045; London, England.
Patient zero
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” the old man commented, his eyes glassy as he stood in the hospital. Dr. Dorset was old enough to remember COVID-19, back in 2020, and something akin to fear settled low in his stomach. He held the latest CBS (Complete Body Scan) device in his hands, reading over the report it had been generating before the man in the hospital bed had passed.
In the background, he could hear the usual beeping and hustle of the hospital, but something felt different, sinister in the rapid decline of the man now growing cold.
“Maybe he was just very ill,” the nurse said next to him, and he took a thick swallow. No, the man was rushed here from Hawkins' lab, after an accident…a mistake he was told.
The man had only been twenty-three years old; he shouldn’t have rapidly declined as he had after being exposed to a supposedly unknown virus. His body deteriorated so quickly that Dorset had barely had the nurse put in an IV before he was gone. The CBS had told him that the man's heart had been elevated to extreme levels, his blood pressure out of control. That, coupled with a huge rash that had spread all over his chest and arms, caused the man’s heart to give out on him.
In the end, it wasn’t the virus that killed him per se, but the symptoms that it brought along with it.
“We must call the CDC,” Dr. Dorset declared, thankful for the hazmat suit and PPE he was wearing.
“No,” a voice said behind him.
“Take them into custody; they must be quarantined.” It was men from the lab; he and his nurse were dragged away, though Dorset knew it was too late. Still, he tried anyway.
“You must listen to me. If we want to save anyone, we need more hypertension medication; we need to start preparing preventative measures now for the side effects of whatever this virus is! Who knows how many have already been exposed?” he was wholly ignored, just pushed and probed until he was silenced.
Twenty-four hours later, Dr. Dorset and his nurse were dead, along with half the men from the lab.
It was only just the start of the end of the world.
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Six months later
Somewhere in England
Her breath was coming out labored as she ran. Sweat dripping from her forehead, she wished she could take off the baseball cap she was wearing, but she couldn’t. It was another layer of protection. Even if she cursed the muggy summer heat as it suffocated her.
It didn’t help that she had a thick bandage wrapped tightly around her chest and a baggy oversized flannel with the sleeves pulled up to her elbows.
Things were precarious at best, and being perceived as women wasn’t the best idea at the moment.
Everything as they knew it was gone.
After a mysterious illness wiped out more than half the population, rather rapidly, the world changed. Carefully placed rules and laws were thrown out the window, and anarchy took its place.
It had been three months, really, since things had turned fully.
For a while, everyone was able to keep going as it was. Everything went on as normal, at least as normal as things could be with half the world gone. Mass graves were built for the dead and dying. But food was still being stocked at the local supermarkets. Quarantines and curfews were put into place, trying to quell the majority of it. But it wasn’t enough.
Then, almost overnight, everything changed again.
Whatever had been holding everything in place snapped upon the announcement of the death of the Prime Minister. Full chaos ensued, and nothing had been the same since.
She hated to think it, but her mum and two sisters getting taken out by the illness early was a blessing. Fighting to survive in this new world almost wasn’t worth it.
Penelope wondered daily why she didn’t just end it all. She couldn’t hope for the illness to take her out, as everyone who survived the first wave appeared to be immune. Which should have been a good thing…but it wasn’t.
She had been hiding out for weeks in a gated community, one she had painstakingly picked out because of its relative safety and easier access to get inside. There were gates around the community, but the homes were old enough that they hadn’t been updated with the newest bioscan doors yet. She had been stuck outside in the woods plenty of nights because of those now useless doors, huge and sturdy that required a finger or eye scan from their owner, and almost impossible to break through.
Also, for her safety, she had cut her hair short in the beginning. The first time that she had stumbled across what it meant to be a woman in this new world.
With half the population gone, it appeared as if only the truly terrible had survived.
She had never seen something so horrible, and there was nothing she could have done. She was alone, and there had to have been at least seven men in that clearing that crisp April night.
They took turns on the poor woman that they had been able to capture; her screams lasted until the early morning light.
Penelope buried her once she was certain the men had cleared out.
She cried and apologized over and over for not being able to help. Knowing if she had tried, she would have been dealt the same fate.
Now, Penelope was always on guard. Disguised as a man, a boy really, was the best she could do to protect herself. She would also rub her face with dirt every morning, scared that her feminine features would give her away. She was too soft, too round…just too womanly to ever fully disguise as a man.
The best she could hope for was to stay hidden.
So she was constantly on the move, at any sign of other people, and she was gone.
She had grown too comfortable in the gated community, so she was caught unprepared when she heard the deep voices of men. She scrambled out of the house as fast as she could. Her heart was beating in her ears, and pain squeezed her chest at the thought of starting over once more.
She had to leave her backpack behind, which hurt most of all. It had all her necessities. Food, water, a knife, a change of clothing, and, of course, her menstrual cup.
She felt naked without her bag and started slowing to a stop.
She had to go back for it.
She would be dead without the water purifying tablets she had in the pack.
She crouched by a tree, catching her breath, a plan already forming.
It had only been two men…She should be able to sneak back in once night fell and take her things back.
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It was a long day, hiding out in the trees, biding her time.
She waited until it was well past midnight, at least according to her wristwatch, the one her father had given to her several years ago before he passed.
She slunk up to the house through the back garden, keeping her steps quiet. She hoped, beyond hope, that they hadn’t found her pack. Hadn’t riffled through it and taken her precious supplies. Or, worst of all, spotted her menstrual cup.
The back door was locked, as she had presumed it would be.
She groaned as she crept away from the door, looking for a sizable rock, and thought she was still happy it at least wasn’t a biolock she had to try and break through.
She spotted one quickly, picking it up before pulling her flannel off her back. She wrapped the rock in it, so when she smashed it through the window, it wouldn’t be so loud.
“Shhh,” she said to herself as it took several tries before the glass finally shattered, louder than she had hoped.
“Fuck,” she whispered, slipping her hand through the broken panel and carefully turning the lock.
It was dark inside the house, and her flashlight was tucked inside her backpack, so she had to wait several long minutes for her eyes to adjust. She vowed in the future to either keep the backpack on her person always, or at least keep some supplies in her pockets so she wasn’t left so vulnerable ever again.
She was so fucking scared as she slowly crept around the kitchen. She was unsure where the two men would be at this point.
She made it to the living room and didn’t see a soul. She knew her backpack was in one of the bedrooms upstairs. It looked like the room had belonged to a little girl at one point; she had gravitated to that room, mostly out of habit.
And, perhaps, because she was missing her identity just a bit, playing a boy.
She made it to the middle of the stairs when suddenly she heard a noise, a bright light blinding her vision.
“Oi, who’s there?” a deep masculine voice called, and Penelope turned and started fleeing down the stairs, her heart in her throat.
“Wait, stop!” the voice called, chasing after her faster than she anticipated.
He caught her in the kitchen when she skillfully tripped on the leg of a chair. In her defense, she had just been blinded by a flashlight beam; it was dark as shit, and she was being chased by a man, one with a state-of-the-art flashlight that lit up the whole room as if it were daylight.
“What’s going on, mate? Why are you breaking into this place?” the man behind her must have seen that she was no threat, sprawled on the floor as she was. She peered up at him, barely registering the bare chest she was greeted with.
The man, at least, had the decency to keep the flashlight out of her eyes this time, pointing it at her feet instead, but still the entire room was illuminated.
She cleared her throat as she started scrambling up. She tried to deepen her voice when she responded, just a bit- not enough to seem like she was playing pretend, but hopefully enough to pass as a man.
“You’re the one who broke into my place; I was just trying to get back what is mine,” she said as another figure came into the room. She flinched.
This man was holding a lantern, which seemed a little pointless, not with the other man holding the brightest flashlight she had ever seen in her life.
“Oh, sorry mate, we didn’t know anyone had been here when we stopped for the night,” the man who had chased her said, and Penelope cocked an eyebrow. She couldn’t remember the last time she had stumbled across people who were decent.
“It’s alright,” she said slowly. The man was looking at her all wide-eyed, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks pink. She didn’t know what that was all about.
“I’m Phillip, sorry for stealing your shelter; we are only here to rest and will be out of your hair come first light,” the man holding the lantern said, and Penelope didn’t know what to say or do.
“I am Colin,” the bare-chested man said, and Penelope gave him a nod before remembering her manners. It had been a long time since she had used them.
“Oh, uh, I am Paul,” she said quickly, hoping she would remember to respond if they called her that.
“Nice to meet you, Paul,” Phillip said with a smile, while Colin’s eyes remained on her. She was still worried, wary. Just because they seemed like decent blokes didn’t mean they couldn’t be luring her into a false sense of security.
“Let me just get the pack I left behind, and I’ll leave you to it,” she said quickly, and Colin hesitated, his arm reaching out before dropping it.
“What if you stay and rest for the night? We feel terrible knowing we made you feel unwelcome in your own shelter.” Colin seemed desperate, for some reason, for her not to leave.
“I dunno,” she said slowly. She was utterly knackered, but at the same time, she didn’t know these two people.
“You can stay in any room of the house, with the door locked; we promise we won’t bug you,” Phillip offered, and she blinked a few times before agreeing.
“Oh, alright,” she said, a yawn spilling from her lips.
“We can talk more in the morning, before we head out,” Colin said cheerfully. She wondered what their story was. Why did they seem so nice, so bloody optimistic, when the world had gone to shite, and everyone else had succumbed to anarchy around them?
She went up to the bedroom she had been staying in; they followed behind her tentatively.
“Good night,” Colin said softly before making his way into the master bedroom, Phillip right behind him.
She shut the door behind her, using the chair she had nicked previously to jam under the doorknob.
She found her pack right where she had left it and breathed a sigh of relief when it looked like it hadn’t been touched. She had hidden it deep in the closet, but still. She had pilfered through many strangers' homes looking for supplies; it could have easily been found.
She slept with her pocket knife in her hand and startled at every noise.
But that was how she slept every night.
Always on guard, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
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In the early hours of the morning, she woke with a start, her heart beating out of her chest. The two men from the night before were making noise down in the kitchen, and her palms were sweating.
She wondered if her disguise would hold up in the light of day.
Before she went downstairs, she went to the bathroom. She checked her reflection, looking at her dirty cheeks and sleep-rumpled hair.
She pulled her cap back over her head, cursing her eyelashes. They were naturally curved and full, making her look so much like a girl. She hoped the dirt still smeared across her freckled cheeks would help with her feminine appearance.
She eventually forced herself down the stairs, seeing the two men standing in front of the kitchen table, each going over the inventory of two huge camping backpacks.
“I found some solar-powered batteries upstairs,” Colin said cheerfully, and Phillip hummed in agreement.
“I found some matches,” he told his companion.
They both turned and noticed Penelope at the same time; she cleared her throat awkwardly as they regarded her.
“Morning,” Colin said brightly, like he was beyond thrilled she had stuck around and hadn’t slipped out in the middle of the night. Not that she hadn’t thought about it; she had just been too exhausted to actually do it.
“Morning,” she replied; she had her own backpack on her back, knowing it was beyond time to move on. Her shelter had been compromised, and even if the two men were leaving, she would no longer feel safe knowing someone knew where she was.
“Sleep well?” he inquired, and she replied with a shrug.
Her stomach grumbling halted their conversation, and Colin snorted.
“Hungry?” he asked, and she pursed her lips.
What did it matter? She had some canned goods in her pack; once she was alone again, she would eat. She couldn’t concentrate on food when she held such wild fear in her heart. While her body knew she wasn’t safe.
Colin started riffling through his pack and handed her a military-grade prepacked ration.
“Oh, no, I can’t,” she said quickly, not wanting to owe anyone anything in this new world. What if he found out she was a woman? What if he expected things from her?
No, she didn’t need his food, nor his help.
“I insist, please; we have plenty,” he said, and Penelope couldn’t help but peer into his pack, and she saw a multitude of shiny rations staring back at her.
Her stomach growled once more, and this time, when he pressed the pack to her chest, she took it.
“Fine,” she said sharply, conceding. “Thank you.”
He grinned in satisfaction, as if feeding her was doing him a favor.
She took off her pack, and all three sat at the table and ate in relative silence.
They were just cleaning up when they heard the sound of several motorcycles' engines roaring down the otherwise silent street.
Penelope paled, the food she had just eaten threatening to make a reappearance.
“No, no, no,” she whispered, rushing to the window in the sitting room.
“What is it?” Phillip was behind her as they all looked out as the men parked their motorbikes and descended, standing in a group as they spoke. Most vehicles were, essentially, in this new, broken world, useless. Over the last decade, petrol-powered cars had been phased out in favor of electric-powered cars. Yet, with the electric grid no longer in operation, having fallen weeks ago, the only mode of transportation was on your own two feet.
Except for the few who had the foresight to invest in the new, solar-powered vehicles. They were still in the beginning phases of being produced, so there weren’t many of those particular motor vehicles available. Penelope was certain those men had nicked those bikes, most likely from a shop or some rich bloke's house.
“We have to go; these men are fucking disgusting,” she told them quickly, already rushing away back towards the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” Colin could see her panic as she pulled on the straps of her backpack. “How did they get those bikes to run?” he asked, but she ignored him in favor of getting ready to depart. She could tell after a moment that he wouldn’t start moving unless she said more.
“I watched them—” she shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed, and for a moment she was back in that clearing, hearing the screams of that poor woman. “Let's just say, if we wish to see another day, we must get going. Now.” Thankfully, the two men were already putting on their own backpacks, fueled by her clear desperation and fear.
She was out the door before them, already looping into the woods behind the house.
“Wait,” Colin called behind her. She stopped for a moment, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Come with us,” he said, startling her, and she played with the strap of her bag, something akin to worry coiling in her stomach. Why?
“Please, you and I both know it’s safer with more people,” he hesitated for a moment. “I hate the thought of you out here alone,” he finally admitted, and Penelope turned fully to look him in the eyes.
Phillip was standing watch behind Colin, but nodded.
“Yes, Paul, come with us,” he said in agreement.
Something in Colin’s eyes had her considering it.
She hadn’t met people like this since the world ended.
Could she trust them? Should she?
She stood thinking and blinking for longer than she should have, her mind split on what to do. On one hand, she didn’t know them, didn’t know what they were capable of. On the other hand, she was so fucking lonely, and Colin was right; it was safer with more people.
“Oh, alright, but if I change my mind, I can leave at any point I want,” she declared, and he held up his hands in surrender.
“Of course.” She paused, tilted herself to the side.
“Where are you going anyway?” she asked, and Colin let out a laugh as she followed them in the opposite direction, being sure to duck down low, lest they be spotted by the biker gang.
“Come on, we will tell you all about it on the way,” he whispered, winking at her.
She really hoped she didn’t regret this.
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