Bullseye

By Bridie Jessica Rose

Alice and Rosalie have been best friends for as long as they can remember. Their friendship has endured many tests and trials, but a plague may just be the last one they can endure. Join Alice and Rosalie as they fight to save the home they love, the people they love, and the friendship worth fighting for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543400977

Bridie Jessica Rose

Bridie Jessica Rose has loved reading and writing since the age of five. She has always read books, usually fictional, and has been writing stories herself since she was nine years old. Bullseye is the first book Bridie has published, so far.

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Copyright © 2017 by Bridie Jessica Rose.

ISBN:            Softcover            978-1-5434-0098-4

                      eBook                  978-1-5434-0097-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/17/2017

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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CONTENTS

Dedications

Chapter 1: Before The Plague

Chapter 2: Training

Chapter 3: Hallucinate

Chapter 4: Via’s Arrow

Chapter 5: The Wrong One

Chapter 6: The Home Away From Home

Chapter 7: Moving On

Chapter 8: Yelena

Chapter 9: A Letter To Rosalie.

Chapter 10: Seven Years Later

Epilogue The Beginning

Acknowledgements

DEDICATIONS

Dedicated to:

The Gifted and Talented Class at Orange High School, for being the reason that I wrote this story.

My family, for always being so supportive of my decisions, especially regarding my career.

To Claudia Smith, Kailee Dickson, Abigail Kittler, Ellie Giger, Milly Martin, Harriet Tucknott, Cheyenne Sciascia, Angela Weckert, Madison McLachlan, Abigail Thew, Isabella Wythes and Emily Smith, for being the other people that read my stories, and the only people that give me honest feedback and tell me when they’re disappointed that their character died. Sorry!

CHAPTER ONE

Before the Plague

I still remember when people used to laugh and smile. When no screams haunted the night air. I still breathe in the air, fresh; like grass; when there was no scent of death that could kill you in a week.

I remember walking around town, looking at the smiling people. Talking with my best friend Rosalie Eveia. The smell of coffee drifting through the streets, winding its way through the air; coming from the café around the corner.

Rosalie and I had been best friends for years; ever since we were born. We’d spent most of our lives together, living together, breathing together. Living in a small town means that you run into each other; a lot more than anyone else would.

And I don’t know what I’d ever do without her.

We’d attended school together, and we were the only two people in our town that were thirteen. We’d taken archery lessons together; learned everything together.

I remember our first archery competition. Rosalie had come second in her stage. I’d come first. Straight bullseye, three times. Line it up, and shoot.

If I ever had to fight, the bow and arrow would be my weapon-of-choice. They can be deadly; they can be a part of me; an extension of my arm.

Rosalie and I were the only two girls in our town interested in archery. The boys were all over it, but the girls preferred dancing and figure-skating. Ugh, the boring stuff.

They skated on the frozen lake most of the time. Only really in winter. In summer it’s too watery and in spring the rain coats it. In Autumn it’s covered in leaves. Those seasons are when everyone dresses in expensive costumes for a dance that goes for three minutes. Really. Fifty dollars for an outfit you’ll wear once?

That might be why I never really felt like I belonged in dancing classes. Not only that, but I was really clumsy. The only time I didn’t feel like I was going to fall over my own feet; when I held the bow and arrow.

My head was clear of all thoughts; all I knew was what I needed to do to bury the arrowhead deep into the target.

My little sister; Via, and my older sister; Katlin were so caught up in figure-skating, that even when I was at an archery competition, the only things they talked about were the newest tricks that they’d learned.

I didn’t mind though. They never paid attention to me before. It worked for me. I’d rather be ignored. Anyway, if my sisters noticed me, it would mean that something was wrong. I was the only one they’d come to when they had bad news. I was the one that took the blame for everything; especially when Via fell through the window. According to Katlin; ‘Alice was the one that broke the window! She was pretending to use a bow and arrow and she slipped!’

My parents believed her. They always did. Little Via could do no wrong, nor could Katlin. I was the lamb to the slaughter; the one that took the fall.

Rosalie had a little sister called Samantha, and they hung out a lot. When Rosalie wasn’t with me, she was with Samantha. Samantha didn’t have the same love for the bow and arrow that we did, though, which meant that I was the first thing that came to Rosalie’s mind when she wanted to go to the park, or for a walk.

Whenever we did anything, we usually ended up walking back to home. Home is where the heart is; my heart is at archery camp, so no matter what; we were always there.

Rosalie and I had grown closer than most people would, faster than most people would. Very young, we became inseparable; no better friends had ever existed.

Her mother was our teacher at school, and her mother taught us and three other students. One of the benefits of living in a small town, I guess. You know everyone’s business, sometimes even before they do.

You’re the first people to know when a sickness strikes.

*     *     *

Today was supposed to be a normal day. I go to school, and I do my class work. I go home from school. Simple. Maybe, I even talk to Rosalie a little.

I walked the half a kilometre distance to school, and went straight up to roll-call, because; as per usual; I had overslept.

Rosa waved at me from inside her classroom, and I smiled back. I sat down, and waited for the daily announcements.

By the time it was lunch, another of the girls in my class wasn’t looking very well. We were the only girls that were thirteen, but we were in mixed classes, considering there was only one hundred and fifty kids… roughly. Lily-Anne claimed to be fine, to feel fine. Throughout lunch, she grew paler, and paler, coughing and spluttering.

When the bell rang for the end of lunch, Lily-Anne tried to get up, but she fainted, falling to the ground. Rosalie ran to get the teacher, and Lily-Anne ended up in the hospital. It wasn’t long before we learned that she was dead. She’d stopped breathing, due to a clotting in her lungs. No one believed the lies they tried to feed us. We all knew that something was wrong.

Lily-Anne was a strong girl. She loved running. She always said it was like flying; her feet moving fast enough that she barely felt them touching the ground; her hair flying with the wind. It was hard to believe that she was gone; hard to believe that Lily-Anne wasn’t playing a prank, getting ready to jump out of her coffin at her funeral, and say ‘tricked you!’ and laugh.

But she didn’t, because she was gone.

Watching someone young die, it’s eye opening; it really shows you that you’re not invincible. You don’t get to live forever.

School was closed down for two weeks, kind of like a holiday, really, and when school came back, everyone knew what had happened. Everyone knew.

People asked us why she’d fainted. We just didn’t have the knowledge to answer them. It wasn’t long before another person got sick. A boy. He was a couple years younger than me, but I still knew him.

Three weeks passed, and another five casualties with it. No one knew what to call this sickness. I only knew that if we weren’t careful, there wouldn’t be a home to come back to.

Home is where the heart is…

What would happen to archery camp? Would it close down?

Rosalie and I met together. At the archery grounds, of course.

What do you think’s going on? She asked me, in her soft, lilting voice.

I’d always read books, especially about plagues and things. I don’t know why, but people decided that kids liked more death and chaos. They’re not wrong, by the way.

I think it’s the plague. I whispered, staring at Rosa, daring her to accuse me of reading too much.

Me too. She agreed, probably flicking back in her mind to every single book she’d ever read, all the ones with the word plague even barely mentioned.

Why though? Why had the plague re-emerged after all these years? Unless… it was a different plague.

That was a scarier thought. Heading into the unknown, after realising that everything around you was crumbling.

With the old plague, we knew the symptoms. We knew how we would die. Not knowing how you would survive was a lot scarier than knowing you would die. You had no ideas of the pain you would go through, before you died.

I did some research late that night, after the world around me had fallen asleep, the night animals were awakening for hunting. I opened my laptop, and searched up anything to do with my home, and the town around it.

There have been several outbreaks of an unknown disease in a small town, in the centre of the country.

We aren’t aware what caused the disease, and we hope that it can be contained. We are putting the small town under quarantine until a cure is found.

We aren’t aware of any symptoms currently.

Thank you.

The article didn’t have an author, but it didn’t matter. They couldn’t do this! They couldn’t lock us into quarantine! They’re basically saying: ‘Oh, let’s let those poor people die, because we don’t want to die too!’

I looked up any information over the last year on any excavations that had been made here. Apparently there had been a coal mine set up, and people were burning coal around here. It explains why it had been so smoky, anyhow.

Maybe it was the smoke… Maybe it was the smoke that we were breathing in.

That was how the sickness must have started. And the amount of smoke… The amount of smoke confused their brains, allowing hallucinations. Lily-Anne had screamed one day in class, and nearly given everyone a heart attack. It wasn’t long before she died.

The reason Lily-Anne would’ve been one of the first to die was because she was a marathon runner. She would’ve breathed in more coal-polluted air than the rest of us, faster than the rest of us.

I put my laptop away, snuggling deeper beneath the warm covers of my bed.

But no matter how much I tried, I could not tell my brain to be quiet enough to let me sleep.

So I stared at the roof of my bedroom until dawn came.

*     *     *

Rosalie came running to me, at school. She had a look of wild, undulated fear and worry written across her face. Well, not written, but as her best friend, I could read her better than a book.

Rosalie! What is it? I called, before she barrelled into me, I grabbed her arms, and kept her on her feet, swaying as she was.

My… My… My little sister… She’s sick… Samantha’s sick. She has the plague. She panted, and I finally noticed the tears running down her cheeks.

We have to go to my house. Now. I commanded, suddenly realising that our only hope was survival. We had no choice. We had to leave. Pack some stuff, and meet me at the tree house, out the back. Go!

But… What about school? She asked, timidly.

Oh, the dreadful feeling was back. I had to tell a nerd that she couldn’t go to school anymore!

"Forget school! Forget lessons and timetables. We need to leave, now!" I whisper-yelled, taking her arm, turning her around and giving her a shove in the direction she’d come from.

Oh… Okay. And Rosa and I walked out of school, sort of running, sort of limping. Before we knew it, we were sprinting home, running as far and fast as possible.

My eyes were blinded by tears, causing me to slip, stumbling down a hill, around the corner. I know I said earlier that there would be no lost love with me and my family, but I exaggerated a little bit. Okay, maybe I don’t love them as much as I could, but I will miss them. They’re my family, my blood and dreams.

I slammed the door open and stumbled up the stairs, my breath catching in my chest. I grabbed a backpack, and started shoving clothes into it, threading my bow through the holder on the side. Archery had been closed since the first outbreak, that’s how I knew where we should go.

I shoved a hairbrush and toothbrush into it, as well as deodorant; basically the essentials. I ran down to the kitchen and shoved any unopened food into it as well. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would last us until the plague was over.

I didn’t have much time, but I managed to grab two water bottles knowing Rosalie would be too concerned with looking good and forget the essentials.

Running back up to my room, I slid my laptop into my bag, with shaking fingers. Just in case. I’ll know about anymore deaths.

I was about to run out of the house, but I stopped myself. I hovered outside of little Via’s room. Pink paint on the walls, a wardrobe overflowing with gorgeous costumes. A pair of dance shoes at the foot of her bed.

Via might be more in sync with Katlin, but Via was the only person that would never stop loving me. Mine was the first name she’d ever said, including mum and dad.

I shook my head. I was running out of time.

Either way, I grabbed a notebook, from her bedside table, scrawling a quick message to her:

Via,

When you read this message I’ll be long gone. I’m leaving, as it’s my only hope for survival. If I could, I’d take you with me. I love you, Via. I’ll see you again one day, after this is all over. I promise you’ll survive, and we’ll see each other at the end of this race. I’ll never forget what a great kid you always were. You’ll always be my inspiration to survive. I love you lots, Vee.

Ali.

I bolted out the front door, and saw my mother driving home, face pale and set. I could see that Katlin sat in the backseat, shivering and moaning.

My heart seemed to stop in my chest, and I gave a small sob.

Oh god. Whatever Rosalie and I went through: we would always have something that happened to both of us. My sister was sick; hers was too.

I shook my head, trying to clear all images of Katlin lying on her death bed, growing pale, before she too became too weak to save herself. The vision switched to Via, and I shook my head.

No. No. No. No. No.

Even just looking at her, my stomach grew queasy.

Can’t think about this now. Get out of here, then you can worry. I told myself, sternly. Please, let them be okay! With one last look at that house; the house that I grew up in; the house that would never be home to me; never again; I walked away for the last time.

My mother saw me, saw my back pack with my bow and quiver threaded through it, and smiled, sadly; knowingly. I watched her mouth move, shaping words. I love you, as she got out of the car, helping Katlin limp inside.

She probably knew that it was highly unlikely that anyone would get out of this alive. Knew that there was a high chance that she’d never see me again.

And I knew it too. I knew that even through everything I was going to try, there was a very weak chance that I would escape from the reality that was my life now.

I swallowed my own feelings of loneliness, and hiked my backpack further up, to rest firmly on my shoulder and collarbone.

I started walking, into the backyard, to the treehouse.

I sat on the first step in the ladder, hoping that Via wouldn’t get sick. That mum and dad would be okay. That Katlin would survive.

I was fine with being ignored by them, but only if they were alive. If anything happened to them, especially when I was gone, I would never forgive myself. I could never forgive myself.

I heard footsteps and looked up from where I’d been studying my hands. It’s funny. My hands are more like a boy’s hands. They’re roughened by callouses, and ripped from multiple falls onto the ground. They’ve had multiple splinters from the old bows that I’d used before I got my smooth, mahogany bow when my parents had finally realised that they could give Katlin’s old skates to Via because I wasn’t ever; ever, going to need, or use them.

Now, Via wouldn’t need them either.

Rosalie stood in front of me, unsmiling. Her lips were pursed in concentration. Hey… I saw Katlin… She looked pretty terrible. She tried, swallowing, nervously.

I know. I saw her too. Mum was taking her inside… And I realised something. She saw me, and realised that she was sorry… For treating me like I was not her daughter… Tears fell down my face, real tears, not fake ones used to