"The year is this year. The day is this day. The time?
I don't know. Irrelevant.

Not like I'm going to be late to a meeting, or a party, or a date. Life doesn't have those anymore. Life doesn't have much of anything anymore.

They're all gone. Billions of humans. Perished. To what? The flu. The flu ended us. Not a meteor. Not the zombie apocalypse. It was the flu. A cough worse than the Plague.

All that's left are the doctors who were smart enough to avoid it, and those immune to it. The doctors don't have much time left. It's airborne now, in it's final stages. They'll be gone soon too.

I'm with one doctor. Doctor Tripp. He locked me in this room. Called me PATIENT ZERO. But I'm no patient. I'm a lab rat. A test tube. A frantic, forlorn hope for salvation.

He's tested my blood for weeks. Maybe months. Who knows? When it began there was a team of doctors and scientists and armed security to back him up, but now, they're all gone. He's all that's left.

I'm done being in this box. I miss the wind outside hitting my face. I miss the smell of my city. I miss freedom.

I'm leaving this place."

Today.