Lockdown (AM13 Outbreak Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

usual social media checking—for research, of course—and when I get bored of this, I open the newspaper I bought. Although these are really out of date in our world, I figure it might just give me some inspiration, something to get me started.
    The pages are all filled with stuff I can’t even begin to muster up any enthusiasm for. Stories that have been retold so many times, from every angle, that everyone has lost interest: a footballer’s affair, a politician misusing taxes, another food group that’s bad for us. Yawn. Until suddenly, I come across a very small article, on one of the middle pages towards the bottom.
    I don’t know what draws my eye to it. Maybe subconsciously I suspect what it’s about, or maybe I glimpsed my name, right there in black and white. In a national newspaper, for the whole of the country to see. I hold my breath as I read.
    It’s awful, so nasty about me. It calls me a ‘ditzy researcher’ who has conned my boss with a hoax. They actually have a picture of me, taken yesterday on my way home from work. I had no idea I was being followed, or photographed. To add insult to injury, it makes me look dreadful. I look really dopey in it, all spaced out as if I have no idea what’s going on around me. If I’d known this was going to happen, I would obviously not have worn my blue bobby jumper that makes me look almost homeless, which is made worse by my obvious hangover. It’s not very nice about Jamie either, saying he went along with it in a desperate ploy to up our terrible ratings, and now we’ve lost any integrity we had.
    I can feel the heat rising through my body as I throw the paper down on my desk. I glance around the room with suspicious eyes, wondering if anyone else has seen this story and not told me. Suddenly every whisper and giggle is about me and I feel trapped. My throat feels constricted to the point I almost can’t breathe. All I know for sure is I have to get out of here immediately, so I grab my coat and run outside the building as fast as I can, without even a single glance backwards.
    As soon as the fresh air hits my face, I start to calm down. Despite this, I continue to walk away because I know setting foot back in that building will result in tears. I’ve never cried at work before, and I certainly don’t intend to start now. I hope Jamie won’t be too bothered about me leaving; I wasn’t exactly achieving much anyway so I can’t imagine me not being there will really be noticeable. I do have to pull myself together a bit, though, or I’m going to find myself unemployed, and I’m not bloody job hunting again.
    I start to repeat the same mantra in my head over and over again, attempting to convince myself. No one cares about some stupid paper; no one cares about some stupid paper. Anyway, most people who read that paper don’t even know me. Why should their opinions bother me?
    Oh God, what about all the people I went to school with? My teachers, my uni mates, my parents. What if any of them see it? I’m going to be an inside joke forever. I’ll never be able to go to any reunions.
    I decide the best thing to do is head home and crawl into bed. I think lack of sleep is making me take this much worse. A nap could be the answer to all my problems. I’ll be able to make more rational decisions when I’m more rested, at any rate.
     
    ***
     
    This is the absolute last thing I need. My flat is surrounded by people, lots of them. What the hell is going on now? There must be a fire or something. I start running, panicking. Judging by the week I’m having, it can only be my house that’s burning to the ground! But as I get nearer I slow down. Something doesn’t seem quite right. There’s no smoke or flames, and the people outside my flat aren’t shouting or worrying. In fact, they’re all standing around calmly chatting. I actually think I might recognise one of them.
    That’s when it hits me. Journalists. What are they doing surrounding where I