Chapter 1 cont. part 3

...“You want my help don’t you.”
“Um, yes. Yes I do.” Chris smiled at her.
“Well I wouldn’t normally be so willing, but since this story has some how been covered up, I would like it to get out too. I will help you Chris!” She stuck out her hand. Chris shook it excitedly.
“Thank you. So then, you’re coming back from Colorado and you’re from Forest Hills? That must mean--”
“Yes. There was a facility there where they took people that tested positive for the infection, but didn’t transform or have any symptoms.”
“Transform?”
“Yes. Once the infection was strong enough in a person’s body, it slowly made them turn into something. Something crazy. Something that looked dead but was still alive and constantly hungry.”
Chris was a little nervous to learn anymore. “Uh huh, more on that later. So you were infected?”
“Am infected. It’s under control though. You don’t have to worry.”
“I assume when you say ‘under control’ you mean with medication. What would happen if you weren’t on it?”
“Probably nothing too extreme. I don’t think the infection can grow anymore in me. I have a few symptoms, but nothing like what the transformed would go through.”
“How many were only half infected?”
“Only a handful. There’s a few of us on this plane and a few decided to stay in Colorado because they had nothing left in Forest Hills. No family. No friends.” Katrina gazed out the window.
“Did it spread outside of the town?” Chris asked.
“Luckily no. But people outside the town heard about it and refuse to go near Forest Hills now. It was bad for business.”
“Business?”
“Yup. Way back in the day my family started the first logging company. They made their first profit on the area they logged just to make the town. People in the industry came for work and never left. All the homes there are historical and there’s no need to build anymore, there’s no expansion. But, my dad was tired of running the company and had enough money to live for a long time, so he sold the company to the Dawes family who keeps the company running to this day.”
The stewardess came around and gave Chris and Katrina a coffee.
“So how is it that this story hasn’t gotten out yet?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know. But when we got taken to Colorado, I’m certain the government had something to do with it. The town mayor had been trying to get help into the town but no one would come. It wasn’t a matter of importance I guess. Up until half the residence were gone, and the military finally came, locals were taking care of it; patrolling the streets, going into the forest where the infected would hide during the day. They made a living out of it.” Katrina took a long gulp of coffee. “Smaller newspapers in Kentucky published the story, but they made it sound less important than it was so no one picked up on it.”
“What about the people treating you in Colorado?”
“What about them? They were doctors. They already had the drug and just administered it when we needed it. We all lived in a common building with people from all over the US. It wasn’t the first time or place this has happened. Everyone had horrific stories. But somehow, the one common denominator was that it was always in a small town; never the big city.”
“Interesting. How quickly did it spread?”
“Very! Well, you know it killed three hundred people in three months!”
“I guess I mean, how quickly did it take for one to become fully infected from the time of contact?”
“Depends. Could be immediately, could be days. If you got bit on the neck, face, or blood from an infected got inside a wound, then it was quick. If you just had saliva contact, or got bit on an arm or something it would take longer if it happened at all. I don’t really know a lot since I didn’t see the whole thing through. The Forest Hills doctors would know more about it. You can talk to them when we get there.”

Katrina nonchalantly grasped the armrests preparing her for the descent into Lexington.
“Why are you so nervous of flying?” Chris asked her.
“This is only my second time in an airplane. Whenever you hear about plane crashes, the majority—of the ones I hear anyways—are always during a take off or landing.”
“Oh. Well, if it helps: your chances of being in a plane crash are less likely than being hit by thunder.”
“ You mean lightning.” She corrected.
“Yeah. You heard that one?”
“Yes, but judging by the three plane crashes in the past few months and the amount of people who died, I highly doubt that many people have been hit by lightning in that short of time.”
“I see your logic. You never know.”
“Ok, no more talking.” Katrina closed her eyes and focused inward trying to keep herself calm. She realized that she wasn’t as nervous as she thought she would be. “Tell me a joke.” Chris’ voice was soothing to her.
Chris was caught off guard. Her eyes were closed. Did she want him to speak? “Really?” He just wanted to be sure.
“Yes.”
“Um, Ok.” Chris pressed his temples trying to think. “The passengers on a plane had been waiting for the pilot and copilot to board the plane so they could take off. When they boarded, the passengers notices that both pilots had a white stick and were wearing dark glasses. The passengers realized they were blind and thought it must be some practical joke. Nothing was corrected so when the plane started to move through the runway, gaining speed, the passengers got more nervous and when they were out of runway they started screaming. The plane suddenly took off and everyone quieted. In the cockpit the copilot said: ‘you know, someday they might not scream to let you know it’s time to take off’.”
“Funny.” Katrina said.
“Well, we’re almost…down.” The plane landed and came screeching to a halt.
Katrina opened her eyes and braced herself on the seat in front of her.