Fandom WWZ - IC

[NanLia]

Two weeks before the Great Panic
​

On any typical day Ginny was up with the first light, early enough to work with the field hands to bring in the free-roaming cattle for morning count, get them fed, and then back to the house to make breakfast for her kids and the men who worked for her. A long standing tradition for Ginny, she knew they worked hard to help her earn her keep and, while funds were often tight -she paid them well enough, she knew little simple things were always the most rewarding. She made certain her workers were well fed, breakfast at the house every morning, lunch brought to them wherever they were in the fields; it was a long tough day and doing this made the work just a little easier.

Today was an exception to the typical day; today was transport day. The heifers had all season to roam, eat and get fat in the wild fields behind the Wallace Farm. Ginny and Joe had long since believed that free-roaming cattle yielded the best beef and their belief had been rewarded over the years; they were known across the country for their superior quality beef over competitors. She had been happy when Matthew Wallace, Joe's father, had taken her suggestion to heart. It had only been a few months after Joe had passed and she was looking for something, anything to focus on besides the absence of her husband. She could only assume Mathew had known and complied for this reason. He gave her a small breeding stock of thirty bows and two bulls and told her to do as she pleased. She had devoted her heart and soul into making it work and at the end of the first season she had success. The cows had cost less to maintain than the typical barn-yard, grain fed brethren, and suffered far less in medical costs. The following year Mathew doubled Ginny's breeding stock and the rest was history. Now the Wallace Farm was known for it's free-roam, valley fed, high-quality beef.

Already the transport trucks were lined up down the dirt and gravel road that lead to the farm yard, where the cattle was being herded within, counted and separated. This was the time of year that Ginny picked her new breeders for the following season, always choosing the best of stock; it was the only way to ensure the following yield would be that much better. She stood in her stirrups looking over the cows are they passed, signaling ahead to the farm hands which to detour back into the fields and which to let move onto the trucks.

This process had started near two am and now, with the sun rising, Ginny could feel the exhaustion started to ware her down, eyes started to feel grainy with lack of sleep; she had yet to go to bed. There would be plenty of time for rest soon enough. She thought to herself, once the cattle was gone and only breeders left her work load would be cut to a fifth of what it had been, and in the next week the fields would be harvested; her corn, wheat and soybeans off to market as well.

Sitting back in her saddle she looked back over the segregated farm yard, they were nearly done the process and she was satisfied with the stock she had selected. She was about to return to the barn, give her horse a rub down before heading into the house when she heard the bass of her sisters truck thumping down the road. She waited, shaking her head, as Katie roared into the lane way, spewing gravel behind her. It only disturbed the cattle slightly; they were far from skittish; known for trampling down wolves and coyotes that wandered too close to the herd.

Kaite, without missing a beat, swung the door open on her truck and sang, 'Hey mama, this that shit that make you grove, mama. Get on the floor and move your booty, mama!" and danced provocatively while holding onto the side of the truck, earning the stares and good natured whistles of the farm hands. Her sister had always been a wildcat, known for her crazy antics. Married life certainly had not settled down her wild ways, if anything it only made her worse. Katie was older than Ginny by three years, but she still act like she was still in college. The woman married young to a rich older man who spent a great deal of time away from home, leaving Katie to her own devices.

"Katie!" Ginny hissed, spurring her horse closer to the truck, despite its dislike for the noise assaulting its ears. Ears pinned back the horse nodded his head at Katie and the noise, chomping his teeth. At least his displeasure was enough to prompt the older woman to turn down the music.

***
​

Ginny sat with Katie at the kitchen table as Marta, her beloved assistant, housekeeper and nanny was cooking up breakfast. Ginny sipped her hot coffee with mild satisfaction as she eyed her older sister.

"Common, Gin!" Katie whined, grabbing the pant leg to Ginny's jeans and shaking them. "It's tradition, you know everyone else is going to be there!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and set her cup down. "I don't know." She started, which lead to Katie giving an exasperated sigh.

"Everyone is turning in their stock today, and you know everyone is out to party tonight. The McKennon's even hired a DJ, it'll be fun. And it's only a drunken stumble down the road from here." Of course Katie was trying to tempt her younger sister out for a night of fun. "Charlie will be there." She said slyly, this comment even getting Marta to turn from her work with a smirk.

Ginny's eyes widened. "So?" Despite the want to deny, her cheeks still flushed.

"You know you like him." Katie said with a smirk.

"Yea, and he's only interested in my breeding stock." Ginny countered, but this comment made Katie cackle.

"Oh! Is he ever!" Ginny smacked her sister's arm, embarrassed.

***
​

Breakfast served and the men fed, Ginny woke her kids and hustled them to the table to eat while she packed them a lunch for school. They were quiet and she knew why they were so sleepy, the two probably spent most of their morning at the window watching the cattle drive and transport load. Every years Liza-May begged to be part of the drive, and while Ginny wanted nothing more than to let her daughter join her, she still felt the girl was too young to be out in the field in the middle of the night driving ornery cows.

It was short work to get the two packed into the truck and headed into town. Ginny turned on her stereo playing from her iPod. Finding a song she linked she turned it up. This immediately warranted a groan of displeasure from her daughter in the passenger seat next to her.

"Lame, mom." Liza-May said, with a roll of her eyes, looking out the window and shaking her head.

Ginny laughed and turned down the music slightly to inquire. "How am I lame?" She certainly was not prepared for the torrent of replies she received from Liza-May.

"Well, to start, you music sucks." This earned a tisk from Ginny, but the girl continued. "You're old. You wear weird things, and you don't do what the other moms do."

Ginny frowned, "Wait, what?" she looked to her daughter in disbelief, glancing in the rear-view to see her son nodding away in agreement. "Okay, music aside, I am not that old." In fact she was younger than most of the parents of Liza-May and Jackson's friends. "and how is what I'm wearing weird?" She had to look down to see that she was wearing a pair of miss-matched rubber boots, one green one black. Jeans and Joe's old red-flannel shirt.

"Just don't get out of the truck, okay mom?" Liza-May pleaded as they drew closer to the drop off line for their school.

Ginny huffed, but she wouldn't do anything to embarrass her kids. "I'm not weird." She grumbled as they pulled up the side walk.

"Yea, sure mom." Liza-May said with another eye roll, but despite this she leaned over and planted a kiss on her mother's cheek. "See you later!" She jumped from the truck and dashed across the play ground to find her friends. Jackson was slower to exit, leaning between the front seats to wrap his arms around her shoulders and hug her.

"I still love you even though you're weird." He said before he too gave her a kiss goodbye.

***
​

Evening rolled around and Katie finally managed to convince Ginny to go to the party at the McKennon's. It was far better than Ginny had expected, though really she wasn't sure why else to expect from a bunch of farmers that were turning down the end of a very long year of work.

Drunk and happy Ginny and Katie started their drunken stumble the few miles from the McKennon's farm to Ginny's. It was a quiet walk that was interrupted only by Ginny and Katie's off tune singing and laughter. Both drank far more than they likely should have, but given neither of them had much to do the following day, they didn't seem to care.

A mile and a half from the McKennon's there was yelp that broke the night air, a woman's voice from the bush, followed by the subsequent noise of grunting. Ginny looked to Katie and the two burst into laughter; clearly someone was having far more fun than they should. The two hurried past the point where the buses were moving erotically, the noise of the two together, moaning and grunting.

"Get a room!" Katie called as they stumbled past, her call was answered by a guttural moan.




The Great Panic

​

Ginny started her day in the typical fashion, up with the sun, ready to go out and start another day, except, there was nothing to start. The cattle had been taken, the fields harvested. All that remained was the small orchard; the four apple trees, one of which had yielded nothing this season, the green house and the garden. Anything that needed to be harvested had been, re-seeding had already begun int he green house to provide fresh produce for her and her family all winter long. There was nothing to do.

Glancing at the clock it read 4:32 AM, it would be hours before the kids were up and when she would need to make them breakfast. The farm hands were gone for the season, hell, even Marta wasn't coming in as early as she sued to. She knew she would never fall back asleep and so she sat at the edge of her bed. It was times like this that she thought of Joe. She missed him. She saw him every day in the faces of their children. In the love and dedication he put into this farm. Her memory lived on, but it killed Ginny to remember him.

As much as they had been able to say their goodbyes; he hadn't been taken from her suddenly, it was still far too soon. They were supposed to be together forever; that had been his promise. They were supposed to grow old together, watch their kids grow old, grow up. He was supposed to threaten Liza-May's first boyfriend with his rifle, teach Jackson to play football.

Feeling tears start to well up, she knew the only way she would feel better was a long standing tradition. Fishing out her iPod, she put on her earbuds turning the display wheel to the song Joe had played their first time and, coincidentally, the conception of their first child. The first notes rang out and she slipped the iPod into her cotton pants pocket.

Don't let me down
Nobody ever love me like she does,
Oh, she does. Yea, she does
And if somebody love me like she does
Oh, she does. Yea, she does​

Ginny traveled the short distance to the walk in closet to find Joe's old coat. His senior football Letterman jacket had been his prized possession and the first gift he'd ever given her. He had wanted to give her a promise ring, but given neither of them had money beyond what their parents gave them; it was the next best thing. She pulled it from the hanger and hugged it close, surprised even to this day how much it still smelt like him.

Don't let me down
I'm in love for the first time
Don't cha know it's gonna last
It's a love that lasts forever
It's a love that has no past​

She pulled the coat over her shoulders, far too large for her slim frame, but she wrapped it tightly around her, turning off the closet light and closing the door. She returned to the bed, crawling into Joe's side to curl up and wait until the kids needed her.

Don't let me down
An from the first time that she really done me
Oh, she done me. She done me good.
I guess nobody ever really done me
Oh, she done me. She done me good.​

***
​

"Oh my god, mom. Why do you have to be so weird?" Liza-May once more chastising Ginny on her choice of clothing. At least this morning her rubber boots matched, but she still wore Joe's Letterman jacket. She couldn't bring herself to take it off when she finally pulled herself out of bed. Something about today was gnawing at her. It was like she was forgetting something important but she couldn't think of what.

"I think it's cool." Jackson defended from the back seat. It made her smile and she playfully stuck her tongue out a Liza-May. "Is it daddy's?"

She looked up in the rear-view and nodded. "Yea baby, it's daddy's jacket." From the corner of her eye she could see Liza-May's expression changing, clearly accepting her mother's weirdness today.

***
​

Kids at school, Ginny returned home to get some work done. By the afternoon she had run out of work. Gardens had been tended to, house cleared twice. She couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting back to Joe, and how much he would love to see how well the farm and his family was doing now. She had even called Katie to try and distract herself, but her sister was at some day spa, unable to answer her phone, or so the message said.

Sitting in the kitchen drinking her third up of coffee for the day her phone rang. She glanced at the display, expecting to see Katie's face but it was Liza-May. She frowned and answered. "Hey baby, you okay?"

"Mommy? Mommy where are you?" Her daughter sounded desperate, terrified. "There are men here, with guns. They said we can't stay. Mommy, please come and get us."

Ginny was already running for the truck, phone still in hand. "I'm coming baby, hold tight." Climbing in she put the phone to Bluetooth and turned on the speakers. "Keep talking, love-bugs. Tell me what they said."

Ginny had never driven as fast as she ha that day in her entire life. Half way into town there was a road bloc, Deputy Cross standing on the side of the road, flagging her down. She certainly was not going to stop. Seeing she had not slowed, the Deputy had stepped out into the roadway. Ginny veered swerving onto the other side of the road and by passing the man, leaving him to catch his hand in the wind.

She pulled into the parking lot of the school minutes later and was shocked to see the local reserves there, directing traffic. She pulled into where they told her to park and climbed out of the truck. Already Liza-May was running for her, dragging her brother by the hand behind her. She knelt down and hugged each of them, as one of the army reserves approached. Looking up it was none other than Charlie Martin. Ginny ushered her kids into the back of the truck before closing the door. "What's going on?" She asked Charlie, then cursed quietly as Deputy Cross pulled into the lot behind her truck, lights on.

She certainly wasn't about to excuse herself for running from his stop; but she would do it over again and again if need be. The Deputy stepped out of his cruiser, replacing his had, before approaching. However before he could speak Charlie was stepping in. "Officer Cross." He said stepped between Ginny and the Deputy. "Hope we didn't cause you any trouble. We called Ginny down here to pick up her kids, but kinda failed to tell her it wasn't an emergency."

She was surprised that Charlie lied so easily, and she bit her lip hoping this wouldn't cause more trouble for him. Deputy Cross looked between her and the Reserve before nodding and addressing her. "I'll let you off this time, Gin. But don't you make this a habit." He tipped his had before returning to his cruiser to leave.

Once he was gone, Charlie turned back to Ginny. "Thank you so much." She said with honestly. "You didn't need to do that, I mean, I appreciate it and all. But don't get yourself into trouble for me."

Charlie laughed, reaching out to pat her shoulder. "Ginny, everyone in this town knows you're the least of anyone's worries." He was reaching past her to open the door to her truck. "Now get home safe and slow, I'll come by later to make sure you and the kids are alright." She smiled, and thank him again, before doing as he suggested, returning her and her kids to the safety of their home.

 

[St. Boethius]

Two Weeks Before the Great Panic​

Norman's mornings started with a strict Schedule of PT starting at 0600 in the morning till 0730. From there it was paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Being the Sergeant in one of the very few and very high demand CBRN units in the country it was his job to make sure his squad was prepared for any trouble that could arise. That meant a whole lot of drills and of course more paperwork. Most of the time the paperwork were performance reports for his squad as well as any inquiries that his squad mates had. For instance one of his squad members Specialist Dunning was requesting leave so that he could attend a sister's wedding.... a week before it was happening. That would have been fine if they weren't already scheduled for a nuclear threat drill. Norman sighed as he looked over the report. He would have to either deny the request to change around the timing of the drill. Norman was much more of a softy than he cared to admit.... well in his own way of course. Norman would approve Specialist Dunning's leave of absence and move the drill from 0900-1300 to 0400-0800. Not to mention when Dunning got back he would be cleaning all of their decontamination equipment. With that little matter decided on and the paperwork filed there was one more file of note. From the Joint Chiefs of Staff on procedure changes for CBRN units. Norman couldn't help but sigh to himself and he looked at the packet. After a good hour or two of reading and making notes of the changes it was time to meet up with his unit for some firearms practice. Norman was sure that this time he would qualify expert, and after a good hour or so of his unit going through he would finally get that expert qualification. There were cheers and banter from everyone in his unit and one of his squad members even offered to buy them all a round of drinks.

Norman may have... drank a little too much. He had left his unit far before they were done. There were snips about the Indian boy not being able to hold his liquor which was quite true. However the man who said it was going to have a hard time laughing about when his face met the bar. The situation devolved quickly after that. Norman had preceded to punch the man's face into the floor a good 3 times before his unit managed to pull him off the man. It was shortly after that he was thrown out of the bar and left in the street. In his drunken state Norman knew he couldn't drive back to post so he wandered through the streets of Memphis to his parents house, which was about a block or two away from the bar. Luckily the thugs that usually wandered the street didn't bother him. Norman couldn't really figure out why until he looked behind him to see his unit behind him. Norman couldn't help but smile and thank them before disappearing into his parent's home. Honestly Norman wasn't sure what he was expecting when he wandered into his family home at 2:00 in the morning. What he got however was a stern talking to by his mother followed up by a conversation about some marriage candidates his father and her had been looking at. Norman buried his face his in hands as they walked him through the list. They were all 'good Indian girls' whose parents were friends of his. Doubtless they were just looking for an anchor husband, not to mention that his parents had been pestering him to get married since he came back from basic. Norman somehow managed to con his parents into letting him sleep by telling them he would choose in the morning.

Which of course was nothing more than a lie... in a sense. Norman had an appointment to keep at fort benning, but he did circle the name and picture of a nice enough looking girl. Apparently she was a pharmacist in Dubai so at the very least she had enough money to support herself. After some hastily made coffee Norman was out of the door heading to the most feared part of any new recruits basic training, the Gas Chamber. It was an introduction into his field of work as well as a crash course on how to properly use a gas mask, and honestly despite the massive headache he was nursing from the night before Norman was looking forward to it. It was always funny to watch the new recruits scrambling to get the mask on as the gas filled the room.

The Great Panic​

Norman's trip to Fort Benning was just as he had figured it would be. Full of new recruits who didn't seem to understand his quite simple explanation of how to use the mask. Norman had been back on base for about two weeks and things were all still pretty normal. He had been reprimanded for the bar fight but it was nothing more than a slap on the wrist really. What was really nothing Norman was the mood on post. Everyone seemed to be worried about something. Had there been another round of deployments? Norman didn't understand until he sat down at his desk and saw the orders on his desk. The Surgeon General was calling for a general quarantine and his unit was to mobilize to set up decontamination areas and assist in the quarantine. After the first 48 hours if there were people on the street he had orders to detain them and start decontamination procedures. Norman found this to be a little strange. Usually the national guard was called in before the army... Norman shrugged, " Guess they don't want to take any chances." He said to himself as he went to gather his squad. Norman relayed the orders to his squad and told them to suit up in their protective gear. Once everyone was gathered Norman put on his gas mask as well checked his rifle and his side arm before they headed out into the city to begin the evacuation.
After leading the reserves with the evacuation Norman and his squad set up a quarantine zone, big plastic tent and all, with all the works to make sure than whatever was on the outside couldn't get in and whatever was on the inside couldn't get out. It was going to be here that his unit along with the reserves would herd anyone remotely sick for a check up

 

[Sir Swigglesworth]

Two weeks before the "Great Panic"​

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP….Jackson’s alarm went off within the split second of hitting 5:30 AM. They groaned lightly and feebly pawed at the alarm clock, “Guhhh…..is it morning already?” Jack had asked himself as they sat up in their bed and looked around the room with groggy eyes. Today was gym day, he had to be to class at 1 in the afternoon and until then the whole morning was ahead of him to do what they so pleased with it. So thus began the typical morning routine that started the young man’s day.

Rubbing their eyes before getting out of bed, Jackson almost immediately made his way to the small kitchenette in his dorm room; soon afterwards having trudged his way to the fridge and began to pull out all the varying ingredients they’d use in their usual morning ritual of smoothies.

“Kale, blueberries, ice, a dab of miiilk, some protein powder, aaaaaaaand strawberries en mangos...poifect.” Jack subtly muttered to himself as they began rummaging through the refrigerator to pull out all their favored smoothie items. Being the Monday that it was, today was a full body day for Jack once he had hit the gym and that meant he’d use a copious amount of energy and needed to take in a large number of sugars and carbs before getting there. The young man then quickly trotted their way over towards the cabinet and pulled out a bullet ninja blender, “Ninjaaaaa!” Jack jokingly sputtered to himself as they plugged the little bad boy in and began to add in all the ingredients from earlier. Beginning to add all the ingredients to the blender, Jack began making little sound effects to go along with it, a bang here, pop there, and a bloop over yonder. Then once everything had been stuffed into the blender, Jack leaned in close to the power button and stared it down.

“Here lies the greatest creator of all smoothie kind…..the all noble...POWER BUTTOOOON!” Jack yelled as they pressed the button and near instantly the blender kicked on in its loud VRRRRRRRR. Meanwhile the sounds of the blender were covering up Jackson’s idiotic laughter. “God it’s the simple things that keep me amused, I swear” Jack said with a chuckle before turning the machine off and pulled off the blending cup. As the smoothie was poured into a large cup, Jack smiled lightly at the mouthwatering sweet aroma that was emanating from the drink.

“It’s smoothie time baybeh” Jack commented before starting to almost chug the ice cold drink; yet while they were doing this Jackson’s phone began to go off in his room. As their eyes darted to their doorway in response to the sudden noise, Jack choked slightly on the smoothie and started to cough violently as they wiped their mouth clean and jogged off towards his room. Picking up his phone with a curious and cough ridden, “Hello?” revealed Jackson’s brother Jonathan on the phone.

“Frostyyyyyyy!” Jonathan yelled over the phone at his older brother followed by a chuckle afterwards.

Laughing lightly at Jon’s comment, Jack smiled and said, “Hahaha, what’s up little bro?” into the phone in an enthusiastically questioning tone.

“Oh piss off, you're just a year older than me ya twat. But nothing too much, I just felt like I should call and say hey. So how’ve things been over there lately?” Jonathan asked over the phone with a small smile on his end of the line.

“Oh, not too bad actually. Class has been going well, oh and I got a job finally. I’m a gymnastics and parkour instructor at the gym man.” Jack said with a bright smile.

Said with great deal of enthusiasm, Jonathan announced over the phone,“Dude that’s great! Always good to have something that keeps money flowing eh breh? Besides, only makes things better that you enjoy all that stuff too man.”

“Yeah, it’s a hella good job. Keeps me in shape, and I’ve met some really nice people while there as well.” Jack had stated with a light chuckle coupled with a small smile.

“Hah, yeahhhh. Well it was great talking to you man, duty calls. Me and Bryce are patrolling the area around the capitol building today.” Jonathan, being a police officer, was today tasked with patrolling the area around the capitol building with an old friend of the two brothers; Bryce Haelstrom, also an officer of course.

“Alright, seeya little man. Hey maybe I’ll come and visit all of you guys back home sometime soon eh? God knows I wouldn’t mind a break from school.” Talking with a small smile, Jackson hung up the phone after he and his brother exchanged goodbyes and then trotted off back to the kitchen to finish their smoothie.

Skipping ahead several hours in time, Jack had just finished his full body workout at the gym. Already exhausted and sweaty, the man now began his 3 lap jog around campus and back to their dorm building which all in all was a decent 4 miles. Going at about a 6 minute mile pace, Jackson had lapped the campus 3 times in about 25 minutes and had now began his jog home, which from where he ended only took 2 minutes.

Reaching the entrance of his dorm building, Jack leaned against the wall for support, the young man was drenched in sweat and breathing heavy. “Hah..hah...hah...hah...good...hah...good job today….” Jack commented to himself as they caught their breath and stood still in the cooling breeze that blew past. After relaxing for a minute or so, the young man took off their muscle shirt and used it to wipe off their face before throwing it over his neck and and entering the building to walk back to his dorm. With the time now being just about 10:45 AM and having arrived at the gym at around 7:15, Jackson had had a good full day’s workout and was ready for class at 1. But now, lunch time.

Walking through the hallways, the young man smiled and greeted several people he knew in the dorms. Jocks, nerds, hot girls, Jack wasn’t particular on who he talked to or who he met. All they had cared about was talking and having a good time, and of course as he walked to his dorm a few of the pretty girls eyed him on and giggled when he had smiled and muttered a gentle hello to them.

Skipping ahead another couple hours as nothing important had happened, now brought the time to 12:30 in the afternoon. Jack had come home, showered up, cooked lunch and had relaxed with a game or 2 of CS:GO. Now as the young man was packing up for class, which in reality was not much, just a small carry bag with his pencil sets, sketch pad, and electronic pad and stylus for if they happened to do digital art today; they smiled lightly and thought of what they may do in class this time around. “Portraits maybe? Or maybe creative….” they thought to themselves as they finished packing up.

“Aight, lets see what time it i-SHIT!” Yeah let's just say 12:30 was too late for Jack. It took him on average 40 minutes to walk to class, and when he checked his watch and saw the time, he cursed loudly. With the time being realized, Jackson swapped all his class supplies from his carry bag into a tight fitting single strap backpack, threw on his parkour shoes and took off out the door bolting.

It was time to run, and Jackson knew just the short cut; though of course it did require a lot of climbing and jumping varying buildings. Sprinting through the courtyard, Jackson ran directly up to the fountain and once he planted one foot to the edge he launched himself forward. Tucking his legs and folding his arms, Jack flipped forward and twisted sideways, coming back to land directly on his feet and continued sprinting off towards class, heading toward the outside staircase on another dorm building.

Making his way towards the staircase, Jack jumped up and pulled himself over the railing, leaping up several flights of stairs before reaching a section that was level with the building next to the door. Jack quickly afterwards gripped the bar with his left hand and vaulted over the railing, spinning on his wrist as they vaulted and landed down on the roof facing the direction they had intended to run. The young man continued running across the roof, vaulting over vent systems and the like until he noticed the edge of the building coming to a close stop. “Well shit, I can’t jump this and roll over my shoulder, I’ll break everything in my pack….Uhhh… OH, I CAN DO A SLAP LANDING!!” Jack thought to himself as almost in the split second of thinking of what to do lept over the edge and came down onto the roof of the other building. As their legs hit the cement, he squatted down and slapped the ground with his hands, using them to push up and simultaneously shot up with his legs to propel himself forward and keep his momentum going. Keeping his sprint across the building, they grinned, having saw the art building in view not so far away.

Jack, now starting to breath heavy from his constant sprint during the last few minutes, kept his pace strong, noticing the time being 12:48; the man had 12 minutes to spare in his attempt to get to class but the shortcut across the buildings he had taken while sprinting severely cut down his time. Coming up towards the edge of this building as well, the young man vaulted over the edge and landed on the staircase just 8 feet below. Quickly climbing like a monkey down the side of the staircase Jack reached the ground in just a few seconds from the top of a 10 story building.

Jack was now quickly running down the sidewalk, closing up on the art building. But as he crossed paths with another walkway, he all but crashed into a local jock of the area. Jack tumbled down to the ground and quickly got back up to his feet. With a generous hand, the man walked over to who he had ran into and reached out to help them up. The jock’s name was Collin McLellins, not well known for being nice but rather a huge prick.
“Sor- hah….sorry Collin...hah…” Jack said between heavy breaths. Yet as he reached his hand down to help the man up, they slapped Jack’s hand away with a low grumble.
“Watch where you’re fucking going huh Rider!” Collin had yelled as they stood up, obviously looking quite furious.
Meanwhile Jack jokingly put his hands up in the air near his ears and tilted his head with a small chuckle along with a smile, “Jeez man, drink a chilltini yeah? God knows you could use it.” Jack had said afterwards. One could say that was not exactly the best idea, because with Collin being the brute that he was planted his hands roughly on Jack’s chest and shoved them back about 3 feet.
Stumbling backwards, Jack looked to Collin still carrying his smile that had now turned into a smug grin. “Oh c’mon Collin, don’t get your panties in a bunch man, I said sorry; besides, I was at least nice enough to try to help you out. Alright I gotta bail man, I’m almost late for art class.” Jack said with a small chuckle afterwards, but as he turned around to continue running Collin snatched their shoulder by the strap of his backpack and yanked the man back, causing them to fall to the ground. Jack growled lightly as they stood up, soon afterwards taking off his backpack and setting it onto the ground. “Ya know what Collin, if you wanna be a damn asswipe. Fine, I’ll let you be one. But no one just throws me around and gets away with that shit.” Jack said with a very serious face, additionally by now a few people had begun to surround the two, eager to see a fight. Jack and Collin were both the same height but Collin was the bigger one of the two, having focused more on body building than calisthenics and having a toned body. But Collin on the other hand, never really actually fought skillfully. He was a brawler that would just throw hands with who he got pissed at, and in this case it was Jackson, or Rider as they had called them.

So to spur Collin on, Jackson let his hands hang at their sides after flipping the football playing brute off. Angrily Collin lunged at Jack, swinging his hands in a semi wild manner. Focused but uncoordinated Jack thought to himself as they easily evaded the flurry of swings with simple movements of their head, ducking, bobbing and weaving past each of Collin’s swings. Collin, now getting quite agitated attempted to tackle Jackson and soon after realized it was a horrible mistake on his end once the man grabbed hold of their wrists and actually fell back with the tackle. As Jack purposely fell back with the forward momentum of the tackle, he placed his feet on Collin’s hips and rolled back once they had hit the ground and threw the big man over head then followed through with the roll and went right on over his shoulder, coming to a stance back up onto his feet. Several people in the small crowd laughed and cheered Jackson on as the young man glared at Collin who was by now getting back onto his feet, looking furious for being made a laughing stock right now. Jack chuckled lightly to piss them off more and the bait was quickly taken with Collin having lunged once again, this time attempting to send a powerful right arm at his jaw. But being the skillful guy they were, Jackson blocked then sequentially locked Collin’s arm and spun in a 180 while dropping his right knee to the floor and kept his shoulder pressed close to Collin's chest; pulling the jock along with him. As the brawlers body hit the ground with a thud, Jack kept a tight hold on their arm and sent his own fist directly into Collin’s nose. The fists connection had shattered the bone inside and sent their vision into a blurry confusion while creating a bloody fountain from each nostril afterwards. Knowing the fight was over, Jack stood up and let Collin lay on the ground in misery. As the crowd laughed and cheered he simply picked up his backpack up and continued running off towards his art class. They were not a boaster or a person who gloated about their success. Sure they didn’t WANT to fight Collin, but then again Jackson will not allow himself to be pushed around; that clearly being apparent by leaving the man back there with a nose just as broken as their ego now.

Now as Jackson rushed towards the art building, they made it there at exactly 12:58 just two minutes early. Their professor had looked at them oddly as to why they were breathing heavy and Jack simply replied with, “Oh ya know, almost late….had to run here…” Which after saying, the professor dismissed it lightly and continued on with starting class considering everyone else had already arrived. Class had lasted for 5 hours, taking the time to 6:00 PM and Jack made his way back home afterwards.. This marked the end of his usual day, well minus the fact he had to run to class and break a dude’s nose. So as Jack arrived back to his dorm room, they dropped their backpack to the floor and immediately trotted off towards the shower to wash the day away. After doing that he just relaxed around the room until he went to bed. Playing CS:GO a small bit, then cooking dinner and getting BACK to CS:GO was his schedule tonight considering he didn’t have much in the name of homework to do right now.

And that marks the end of Jack’s day, he had crashed at 11PM and drifted off to sleep only to wake up and repeat the process the day after.

The "Great Panic"​

It was a calm and relaxed Sunday morning, meaning that Jack was both resting and recuperating from a whole week of exercise and off from school. That also allowed him to sleep in, an opportunity he took to the fullest extent. The time was exactly 1:38PM when Jackson’s phone began ringing. The aggressive ringing of the phone had woken Jack and they sat up slightly wide eyed. Jackson darted their eyes towards his phone and answered it, now sounding more calm as well.
“Hello?” The young man asked groggily to whoever was on the line of the phone. The person on the other end on the phone had sounded frantic. “JACKSON!!...I-IT’S THE VIRUS! IT’S HERE, IN AMERICA AND ALL THE MAJOR CITIES ARE IN CHAOS!!” Jack had quickly realized the person to be an old friend of his, Amy Blackwater. She sounded panicked and frantic.

“Woah woah woah Amy, relax ok? Deeeeeeep breaths…” Jackson tried his best to calm her down but to little avail, she wailed over the phone, “JACK OHMYGOD WHAT IF IT HITS US DOWN HERE IN VIRGINIA, O-OR YOU IN ALBANY?!” It was quite obvious she was petrified, having seen the news of what happened overseas. “Amy, calm down ok? I’m sure the military has everything under control. Besides, I’m fine here in Albany ok? I just want you to worry about you and the family yeah? Everything will be fine. Ok, so what happened, and I want you to talk slooowly ok, relax.” Between stutters and sobs Amy muttered over the phone, “T-t-this afternoon, there was a government announcement. Africanized rabies has reached the coast of the U.S….the east coast more specifically. The government is trying to set up quarantine zones all down the eastern half of the U.S but big cities are absolutely freaking out. New York is in chaos right now...Chicago...Miami….everyone is freaking out. I’m just...I’m just worried about you and your family in New York...the infection is spreading fast too…”

The young man sighed lightly, thinking to themselves there shouldn't really be much of a worry, the military can handle it. Or so he thought, but only much later would Jackson realize the military had no control over this virus. Later on, as life ran normal for the most part minus the military presence in the city, the virus would come to decimate Jackson’s city, leaving him one of few remaining survivors. But back to the present, Amy was on the phone freaking out and Jackson felt she had no real reason to worry, that everything can and will be settled soon enough. “Look, Amy….those are major cities. It’s only obvious that panic and chaos would happen when the general public freaks out about something that shouldn’t worry them at all. Besides, we all have the vaccine coming out remember? Not to mention I’m sure the military has everything planned out for if the virus makes its appearance. Everything is fine here in Albany Amy.” Jack had said while in the midst of turning on the tv, but once he did he saw the news going crazy. Reporters going mad about the virus having come to the coast, and the local news showed military trucks and red cross setting up a presence and more importantly a quarantine zone in the city. “Xeesh….shit’s getting serious out there isn’t it?” Jack had thought to himself before placing the phone back to his phone to hear Amy continuing her talk, “-be we should stock up and leave Virginia, go somewhere more safe?”

The man paused for a quick second to think of an appropriate answer to Amy’s question. “Well, I can’t really tell you what to do. If you think that’s best then go for it, but personally I don’t think we have anything to worry about. But if you did stock up and leave, where would you even go, and what about the kids Amy, how would they cope with this?” Amy went silent for a few moments over the phone, “I…..Well I...I guess you’re right? The kids would have a really hard time getting over the sudden stress...Ok Jack, I have to go, kids are calling me right now.” “Bye Amy” Jack said over the phone and hung up the next second and placed it back onto the nightstand near his bed. Giving off a soft sigh, the man walked over and grabbed his laptop to log on and check the news. The internet was packed with worries considering the infection having hit the U.S, riots in major cities, death tolls rising, in some areas it was dreadful. Now despite his assurance to Amy that the military would handle it, he did subtly worry about it but was never too absorbed with it. “No real worries around here” Jack had thought to himself. But what was going on around explained different. People all along the coast were getting sick, the virus was spreading slowly, yet Jackson still let his confidence take it’s stay over them. Not worrying about the military in Albany and the infection that was at first being detained by them.

As Jack had kept on reading the news, it also stated that people are recommended to stay inside and avoid anyone who appeared to be sickly in any manner. “But...but my run….” Jackson had wanted to go out on a run today for at least a few minutes to do something active. So through their better judgement, Jackson STILL got his running gear on and left to go on a run around the campus, this time though packing his pistol on him in a concealed carry holster, different from his leg strapped one. “Well if they say to be safe, then I can bring my pistol. I’m probably not gonna need it but oh well, better safe than sorry I guess,” was the thought that ran through Jackson’s mind as he left their dorm room. Walking through the halls revealed things to be much more solitary than usual, people usually were always walking throughout the halls, talking and laughing sometimes even leaving their doors open.

“Jesus, this place is really dead right now….Is everyone taking the scare so badly right now?” Jackson had mentally acknowledged, having not taking too much of it. But that’s when someone came back through the halls looking quite scared, when the person turned to look at Jackson they jolted.
“GAH! Oh...jesus Jack you scared me” The person had said, now being revealed as Dillon Bronsworth
“Sorry man, I didn’t realize everyone was so jumpy,” Jackson had said with a small chuckle, “Why is this place so dead right now? Is everyone freaking out that bad?”
“Yes everyone is freaking out that bad, everyone is holed up in their dorms. People are a bit worried after the announcement today ya know? The military looks to be calming the crowds downtown but I dunno. I know they say to keep inside and not worry, but I’m just a bit concerned man. Wait, w-where are you going?” Dillon had asked curiously.

“I’m just going on a run dude, I don’t think I’ll have much to worry about on campus man.” Jackson had said with a calm and relaxing tone.

“Aight….just, well just stay safe yeah? I heard a few kids are feeling bad since they went to the food drive yesterday to help the homeless” The young nerd had said with a slightly scared tone in their voice.

As both Jackson and Dillon dismissed one another and went on their separate ways, Jackson looked back at Dillon a bit curiously while having the thought of, “Damn, I wonder why he seems so spooked. Are things really that bad?” cross through his mind. But at that he had reached the buildings exit and began his jog the second after. Working up to pace fairly fast, Jackson soon fell into rhythm and casually scanned the campus as he jogged around. The entire area was desolate minus the occasional straggler, but somewhere off in the distance there was shouting heard. Jack turned his head towards where the noise had originally came from but saw nothing. So thus he made nothing of it and continued their jog, but as he was rounding the curve by the medical tech building, he heard groaning and what sounded like someone’s dying screams. Not allowing himself to let this one pass by any means he hastily made his way over to the alley that lie between the medical building and the next one over. Muttering a soft but loud, “Hello?” spurred something on in the distance. It looked like someone crouching down that after after the hello had eerily turned their head towards Jackson. With flickering eyes, Jackson also noticed what appeared to be a body underneath the individual. As the person stood up and slowly turned around to face Jack the young man's eyes widened. Standing just 15 feet away was a person who would have normally looked just like anyone else, but they had sickly pale skin, dull and faint colored eyes, and the most shocking part was the blood that stained their shirt and dripped from their mouth coupled with even what had seemed to be chunks of meat. Jackson cursed to himself slightly, in awe of what was standing before. But with another, “Hello, are you alright man?” sent the individual stumbling towards him.

As the person approached closer to Jackson, the man ordered them to stay back in a strong and stern voice, “STAY BACK!” he shouted as they began to pull out their phone and quickly dialed 911. As they eyed the person stumbling towards them a few thoughts crossed through his mind, “Jesus, is this guy on fucking drugs or something? I mean he just ate someone for Christs sake!” but as the call finally went through they were hit with an error message. It had seemed that the 911 call servers were full and there were still more calls coming in, Jackson sighed lightly to himself and as the man approached closer to them he drew their pistol and shouted, “STAY BACK, I DON’T WANNA HURT YOU. THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING!” but the person had nonetheless shuffled ever closer. Jackson growled to himself and shouted one more time for the person to back off but they never did, and as they crept close enough finally, they had lunged at Jackson. That lunge caused Jack to send a single round into the person’s chest directly into the heart. But yet they didn’t drop dead as he had expected but instead grabbed onto them and ferociously attempted to bite Jackson, the only thing holding them back was his elbow at their throat. With savage snapping teeth the person tried to their best ability to sink their teeth into Jack anywhere they could.

With quick thinking Jackson grabbed the wrist of the individual with his left hand and with the forearm connected to his gun hand he pulled with his left arm and pushed with his right while simultaneously wrapping a single leg behind the person's leg and with enough force and leverage pushed them back and made them fall onto the ground. “Jesus dude, what the fuck is wrong with this guy, he should be fucking dead right now!” was an adrenaline fueled thought that sped through Jackson’s head as the man slowly got up while emitting a somewhat frightening monotone groan, as if nothing was bothering them in the slightest. With a low grumble and sigh, Jackson raised his pistol to eye level and put a single round through his aggressors skull. As the bullet passed through the person’s skull and left an almost artistic blood spatter on the wall, their body fell to the ground with a loud thump. Jackson mumbled curse words to himself lightly while they cautiously crept past the dead body, and once doing so he made his way towards the person’s victim. It appeared she was a young girl who had just arrived on campus all but a month ago. He sighed lightly and crouched down to check for a pulse, despite the fact that if there even was one there would be blood spurting from her ripped open neck.“Damn, poor girl. She had a good life ahead of her.” Jackson had said to himself as he stood back up and set his gaze back onto the lifeless body of his and her attacker. The young man stood there, silent for a few moments as they took in what had just happened. He was attacked by a crazy man who was more than likely drugged up, took a shot to their heart and yet still lived on to attack Jack and only dropped when a round was put through their skull. Then here lay the corpse of this poor lifeless woman, “Jesus...what a fucking day...I’m still concerned about the rest of the town though. I mean, I know the military and police are calming the crowds pretty well but what the hell is going on for the servers to be FULL?” he had thought to himself.

Then, the unexpected happened. As Jack had stood there processing the situation, the woman's corpse leapt to life and aggressively grabbed onto his ankle. With a frightened yelp coupled with a near leap from Jack, the man wrenched his foot away from the girl and stood back several feet, his pistol aimed on her head. As fear partially flooded their head, Jackson’s mind screamed to itself, “HOW THE FUCK IS SHE ALIVE?! THERE WAS NO PULSE AND HER NECK WAS IN SHREDS!!” as he watched the woman rise to her feet and began to shamble towards Jackson just as the other person had before. Not even skipping a second to process this one, he already knew she was in the same situation as the other person was, but yet still gave them a warning. “Back off, I’m warning you.” he announced to the now seemingly revived young woman that stood before him. But just as the other person had, they did not stop and continued their advance towards him. Sighing lightly, he raised their pistol to eye level and sent another round through this individual's skull. The woman’s body dropped to the ground in a similar fashion as her killer had and Jack stood there in silence. Cursing to himself lightly after a few solemn moments, Jackson turned to face the exit of the alley and muttered, “I have to fucking get home, this is too much for me right now.” then began to sprint off back towards his dorm building.

“Ok, what in the actual hell just happened? I had to kill two people just now...but were they even people?" Jackson thought to themselves as they sprinted back to their dorm building, still stricken with fear and wonder. He had after all just killed two people, but in self defense of course. Soon after reaching the entrance they barreled through the doorway and ran down the halls to his room. Almost plowing through the door, Jackson slammed it shut behind him before grabbing his laptop and throwing it open immediately getting onto his email to begin typing off a worried message to all his friends and family. The message reads as shown below.

Friends and Family,

Guys, we have an issue. Now don’t take me to heart on this but I think there is something seriously wrong going on. Sure the major cities are in chaos but that’s not important to US right now. I was just attacked while out on my run and had to kill 2 people, and what’s worse is that the police phone servers are down. Fucking down, how many calls are they getting? But here’s the issue...the people I just had to kill...well..they shouldn’t have even been alive. I found one guy literally EATING another girl on my campus, so she’s dead right? No, nahnahnah I warned the guy who was approaching me to back off while I called the cops, and as you know, they didn’t pick up. This guy kept on coming at me but he was oddly slow and shambled a bit. Must have been on drugs, or well I thought. When I warned him to back off one last time after drawing my pistol,thanks for letting me have that by the way dad, he lunged at me and tried to grab onto me and bite me. I shot him directly in the heart, a sure kill right? No, this guy just kept on coming at me, ferociously trying to bite me, as if they had wanted to eat me like they did the girl. But after I threw him back and he got back up, he just groaned lightly as if not a single thing bothered me. When he came back at me I shot him in the skull, I had no choice. But that finally killed him. That’s what’s worrying me, what makes it so a person takes a .45 ACP round to the heart and lives like it was nothing? Oh but here's the other thing, the girl he was eating...Yeah her neck was entirely torn to absolute shreds, she was NOT alive. But as I was standing near the wall, processing what I had just done, she magically rose from the damn dead and tried to attack me just like the other guy did. I had to shoot her as well. What’s going on guys? There’s no way anything like that should have happened right? It might actually be the virus? Maybe that’s why the military is here setting up quarantines. But that’s absurd yeah? There’s no way someone can die and just come back from the dead, but yet I just watched it happen...I’m scared guys, I have no idea what’s going on and it worries me. I don’t know what’s going on anymore and especially with this “Africanized rabies” but something isn’t right. Ok guys, I have to go try to contact the police again. Please stay safe, and be cautious of ANYONE who has pale sickly skin, dull colored eyes and seems to be constantly groaning ok? Because that’s what these two poor bastards looked like, they looked like dead men walking.

Love, Frost

That night, after locking his dorm room tight and trying to contact the police several times over, Jackson rested in worry. He had no idea of what was coming, but all he knew was that whatever it was is not going to be pretty…..

 

[Jackstack]

Two Weeks Before the Great Panic​

Houston was sitting on a brown couch that was seated in front of a forty-five inch TV. Wheel of Fortune was on, and the correct letter buzzer was going off every other minute. There was a glass table with one black leather briefcase and coffee mug on it, that just barely hovered over his knees. He had been analyzing a spreadsheet on where most of the taxes came from. It seemed that the application taxes was where the money was seeping into. He looked at the paper, and looked at a tax law book on his upper leg. He was trying to find a law where they could skip the application and go straight for the loan. So far, the previous tax attorney had made sure that all the money that could be saved from that area, was being saved. He was trying hard to make a name for himself within the company, he wanted to be the employee who they knew was reliable and dependable. Finding new ways to save money was the best route for him to do this. He had spend nights looking over old documents and looking into old city tax code.

"It's Dream on" and then the woman behind the wheel got the right answer. "I knew it" and when back to looking at the spreadsheet. He loved Wheel of Fortune, and hoped one day he could get the chance to be on it, though, he left that memory at the dock

The phone rang, and the caller's name was called out by a feminine robot voice, "Call from..Grant Ult, call from...Grant Ult" and he picked up the phone. "Hey, I was calling to check up on dad, how's he been doing?". His brother Grant had called to check up on their father, this was the second time he had called, and it made him feel better that he was concerned, "They are going to take out the pump and replace it with a new one, but they said that if he makes it past the surgery, he'll be fine." there was a pause and had replied, "Have you been down to see them?", "Yeah, visited them two days ago. Mother is being mother, and father is being father. So, same old stuff.". The conversation didn't last long from there, they both talked about what they were doing, to make it seem like there was an interest. Houston ended the conversation by asking his brother to come out and see their parents. His brother gave him the "I'll try but probably not" answer, which was expected. He put the phone back on the charger, and went back to his work.

Wheel of Fortune had ended, and he couldn't look at the papers anymore. He put the paper back into the briefcase and sat the briefcase on the arm of the couch. He took the mug back into the kitchen to get washed out, and faced it down in the drying rack. It was his bedtime, and everything had to be ready for work tomorrow.

It was weird, he usually had someone to talk to in his house. His girlfriend of a year had broken up with him, and to be honest, both of their lives were not compatible. He was always working, and didn't tell her much. This made her upset because she never knew what to expect next. She always wanted to make plans, but knew that those plans could be thwarted by his work. She like the fact that he had a wonderfully paying job, and he was responsible with his actions. There was just no meaning to it, so they went their separate ways. He was devastated, or as much as someone who had been a single year relationship could be. He loved her, he thought that she'd understand, but she needed a life other than waiting for someone finish their work. Their breakup happened two months ago, she came to get the last of her stuff the week before. They were civil, though they both could not look each other in the eye. He was ashamed that he didn't spend enough time with her, and she was sad that she had to do this. It was for the better, maybe he'd learn from this.

It was the next day, he woke up and went through his morning routine. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, and and ironed his suit. Ironing was something he never enjoyed, either his parents would do it or his girlfriend, though, she's bug him that he should do it himself more often. He came down the steps, and walked through his living room to get to his kitchen, where some bacon had been thawing out. He opened his cabinet above the sink, and pulled out a blue ceramic plate. He put the plate on the countertop and laid a paper towel on it. Soon, the strips of bacon were in the microwave being cooked. Most of his meals were cooked in the microwave, and he hadn't used the stove in weeks. After the bacon was done cooking, he made a sandwich with just bacon and mayonnaise. After he finished his breakfast, his gathered his briefcase and a cup of coffee. His friend was picking him up, and it was almost time for her to arrive. As he put the newspaper on the cushion on the couch, he heard her car stop right next to his sidewalk. Walking out of the house, he turned around and locked his door. He lived in a good neighborhood, but growing up, his parents always made him lock the house door or garage door. She was sitting in her car with big square sunglasses on, and smiled as he entered the blue sedan. "Hey", "Hello, how is your morning.", she smiled, rather sarcastically, "The kids refused to get ready, citing that there were just too many school days, and the oldest one was leading the pack... So, that's how it's going." He smiled, "I don't think I necessarily disagree with them.", she laughed, "Yeah, I guess.". The rest of the drive was consumed by talk about work. Such as gossip, Houston never got into the gossip, but if there was a promotion, he was curious to see who was going to get it. The new promotion rumor was that Hank from the mortgage section was going to get a new position. This wasn't news, because it was rather expected. He had worked for them for ten years, and it was time for him to get a better paying position.

They arrived at the bank, she pulled into the slot that was right next to the employee entrance. She hated walking, but he wasn't the type to complain about such things. They walked in together and held the door for her. About five minutes into entering his office, the assistance walked in, rather in a hurry, "Hey, the boss wants to see you" he rolled his eyes and sighed, "He couldn't wait five seconds, okay, tell him I'll be there" then the assistant left.

He walked up to the office of where his boss was, the branch manager, and sat in front of him. He sat in a brown leather chair, that was a little too small. His boss looked at him as he sat down, "Hey, I was wondering if you had any ideas of the cutting back on the different forms.", Houston dug out some paper from his briefcase and showed it to his boss, "I looked at everything, and we can save a few dollars here and there." pointing to the sections that he had highlighted. His boss shook his head up and down and gave a approving look, "That looks fine, I'll show it to the board and they'll see what to do." After that, which was the main reason why he went up there, they talked about the various things that would be going on in the office over the next month or so. Nothing major, one secretary was retiring and that was it. Houston excused himself, and went back to his office, where he had to deal with a few more things, dealing with the forms.

The Great Panic​

The bank had been busy over the past few days, people taking out large sums of money, but never all of it. this created a lot of problems for the bank's legal department. He had to go over all the transactions, he had to make sure that they were doing things in the proper order. All of that, plus, in a short time frame. It had gotten so busy, that in fact, his boss barely ever requested him. Though, many had speculated as to why all of this was happening. His friend, the one he usually carpooled with, speculated that it has something to do with this new disease. Houston had blown this off as not likely, he thought that if the swine flu didn't get people to risk their money, then this won't. He thought that maybe, there was another rumor that the banks were gambling with their money again and could collapse the system. All in All, he didn't think much of the panic, he thought it was just more secure work for him. Though, he would occasionally peek at a TV screen to see the local news. The news had been reporting of the army coming in and securing designated restriction sites. That was thought that maybe someone had planted a bomb on a gas line or something. His friend, she stuck with he disease theory. He thought quarantining a building because of a disease was even less likely. As worked from his office, he would look out the window and see military truck pass by the building. Some of them were troop transport trucks, with military personnel and everything. He had never seen this in real life before, but he did see it on television. The news also reported that hospitals were getting above normal amount of patients, and that they were getting extra supplies. Houston thought to himself, "Why do people have to panic, it'll all be over in a few days.", he was annoyed that the traffic would be so bad and it could take a long time to get home. His friend then came into his office and she looked distraught. He put his elbows on the table and pulled himself to a more attentive posture, "What's wrong?" she looked at him, "They're getting out all the kids in the schools early. They advise parents to meet with their children at the home, and stay with them until they declare it's okay to go back to school". At this point, Houston started to get worried. He looked for answer to give to her in his head, and the only thing he could tell her, "Go get them, and I'll get a ride from Shane, he lives relatively close to me." She didn't even hesitate to say no. She got up and said "Are you sure you can get a ride from Shane?" and Houston just shook his head yes. Shen left his office, and he could hear her get out her keys as she left the office. He looked out the window, he was thinking whether he should go home now or not. He had lots of work to do, but if things were getting serious, then it might be better if he were at a safer place. He looked at his phone and called Shane's desk, it rang twice before Shane picked up, "Yeah?", "Hey, it's Houston, I was wondering if could take me home after work?" there was a pause and then a "Sure". They talked about at what time would they want to leave, Shane wanted to stay until the day ended and Houston went along with it. Well, after Shane sounded calm, he was able to get a grip back on reality as well. Houston eventually agreed with Shane.

He worked for a hour more, before the branch manager called them into the main lobby. They heard his voice over the intercom and walked to the lobby. This was strange, this was the first time that they all had been called to the lobby, or at least since Houston had been there. He walked behind a few of this co-workers and listened to their conversation. They were worried about their families, some had older parents alone at home, pets, and kids with babysitters. He knew that it might be worse than he originally thought.

They made it to the lobby where the branch manager waited, he looked around and saw that everyone who worked for the bank was there. He put his hands in his pocket, and spoke, "Listen, I just got a call from the police station, they advise everyone to go back to their homes. In light of this warning, I'm telling you to go home. The bank will call you when you're allowed to come back to work. As of now, I don't know how long that will be. It could be days or week, but I don't think it will be months. Take whatever work that you need to get done..", there were a few hands that raised but were brought down when the branch manager walked away. Some people went back to their desks to leave, others stood around and talked, trying to figure out what to do. Shane walked up to Houston and asked, "Do you still need a ride?" and Houston answer "yes". Houston just asked him if he could go back to his office and grab a few things. Shane agreed, and Houston gathered his work related things. He walked back down to the lobby, where the exit to the parking lot was. He saw people carrying boxes, full of work and personal stuff. Some were one their phones calling people, most likely their families. By the time he made it back down to the lobby, a lot of the people had already left. It was a little eerie, but he paid no attention to it. Shane was waiting in his car, as Houston walked towards the car, Shane seemed to be in a more impatient mood. Though, with a hint of worry thrown into the expression. Houston opened the door, and Shane looked at him, "Let's go" and Houston nodded his head in agreement. The drove out of the parking lot, and they were the third to last person there.

As they drove, they would have to slow down for an ambulance, firetruck, or a police cruiser. Some of them were going so fast that if, it had hit them, they would not have made it. Shane was a nervous wreck, it seemed to be his first time dealing with this type of scenario. Houston talked to him, calming him down until they made it back to their street. Houston got out with his box of belongings, and wished Shane the best of luck. Shane's car sped away from him at a alarming rate. A couple of pebbles from the road were kicked up and hit him. He turned around and headed back into his home. As he walked down the sidewalk, he could hear helicopters fly overhead, he even saw one, it was a medical helicopter.

He opened the door, and sat his stuff down, and shut the door behind him. He locked it and walked all around the house. He was looking for any signs of robbery, or if anyone had decided to take up residence for the night. To his relief, he had found nothing missing and no one had entered his house. He walked into his living room and turned on the news. All the news channels were showing the same thing, panic and disorder. Some of the news reports would show a hospital or two, they news anchors would be talking to a doctor, asking questions about the disease. "A disease" she was right, it was a virus of some sorts, or at least from what he could gather. He pulled out his phone, and tried to call her, but got no answer. The news gave instructions on what to do if you're sick, they told you where to go and who to avoid. He just couldn't believe it, he sat there, he wanted to lock himself in the bathroom. He figured he's just have to wait to see what happens.

 

[DemetrioMachete]

Two Weeks before the Great Panic
​

"Llllllladies and Gentlemen!" The crowd erupted into brief cheers, as the man on the mic's presence indicated that the match was soon to begin.

"Tonight's Card is sponsored by ESPN, capture every last highlight reel. Now, introducing tonight's fighters for the Main Event!"

The First walked out, accompanied by the song "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. It was a white male, curly brown hair. He was dressed in grey trunks with black trims, as well as black gloves.

"From Calgary, Canada, weighing in at 280 pounds, Calvin Clyde, the "Boy Wonder!" He walked into the ring, accompanied by mild cheering. He didn't look physically intimidating, compared to his opponent. His music hit, it was "Don't Stop" by ROTC.

"And the Champion! From Battle Creek, Michigan, weighing in at 284 pounds, Merlin! The Wizard! Peeeeerkiiins!" The crowd erupted as the man came into view. Dark skin. Short hair. Wearing the Red trunks with white trim, and red gloves. As he entered the ring, the Ref parted the rules of the fight to them both. This was Clyde's first ever title match. As the rules and prohibition of illegal blows were explained, the fighters went back to their corners. Soon after that, the bell rang, and they approached, their hands raised.

Clyde moved on his feet with agility, circling around Perkins and throwing jabs ineffectually at the Wizard's block. No punches were thrown in retaliation as Clyde pranced around him, attempting to punch past his gloves. The commentators were quick to remind everyone that while many believed that Perkins had no strategy; he just punched and he punched hard, there was an inner plan to his method. He waited to see how his opponent's boxed, and the moment he had seen enough, he would exploit their gimmick and unload several heavy hits.

The process repeated for about a minute and a half, with Clyde dancing around the ring, keeping pressure on Perkins with swift jabs. The moment the commentators made the comparison to Ali vs Frazier, Perkins made his move. When Clyde's jab came out, Perkins moved under it, unleashing a heavy uppercut into the midsection, which knocked the wind out of Clyde. As he tried to move away, Perkins trapped him in the corner, and began pelting him with calculated hooks, crosses and uppercuts. The last punch of the round, with only 13 seconds left, was a right hook so overwhelmingly strong that it knocked Clyde's mouthpiece out of his head. He then collapsed against the ropes, and did not get up in time to continue the round. The crowd roared in approval of the knockout victory, as the Wizard got his hand raised in victory.

During the post fight interview, a journalist asked Perkins about his opponent, to which Perkins replied:
"Y'know, when you see the same parlor trick of fast feet and fast hands for lile, half of your career, y'start to learn ways to take that style and bust it over y'knee. If y'cain't hit hard, man, you shouldn't be in a damn boxing ring. I come here to fight, not to prance, dog." With that, Perkins returned to his Penthouse suite, not particularly exhausted from his title match, although his hands hurt from how many jabs they absorbed, as well as unloading on Clyde. Tomorrow he'd sign a new fight contract, hopefully against a name he knew. That way they would make the match a pay-per-view, it would sell so many tickets. He turned on the news, expecting to hear about his fight, but instead he got a report about Africanized Rabies spreading across the Eastern world. At the time, Perkins thought nothing of it, thinking it would blow over like H1N1 and Ebola.

 

[Safton]

Two Weeks Before The Great Panic...

​

Jonah’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the alarm clock’s insistent blaring, chasing away the fog of sleep and half-remembered dreams. He groaned lightly, sitting up in bed to rub at his bleary eyes with the heel of his hand. He knew the drowsiness would fade with time, it always did. After more than a decade of blue-collar jobs demanding that he wake up by 0500 – or earlier – he had been forced to become a functional “morning person”… even if his body didn’t always agree with the schedule. After showering and grabbing a quick breakfast (a granola bar hastily crammed into his mouth on his way out the door) Jonah headed outside to his truck. He could feel the sticky humidity in the air, threatening a storm later on in the day. Shaking his head, he climbed into the vehicle and fired it up.

He watched the old, ranch-style home disappear into the rearview before settling in for the drive to the office. Jonah’s home was just over half-an-hour’s drive south of Atlanta proper, sitting in what passed for a “rural” part Metro Atlanta. Decker valued the relative isolation to work on his various projects – a junk car, usually – in peace and quiet. However, it also meant getting on the road early to make it to the office on time.

***​

Jonah pulled into the parking lot of Rossi Engineering – a squat, one-story office building with metal siding, tucked behind a strip mall – and headed inside. The business wasn’t particularly large, with only a single registered land surveyor, one civil engineer, and two draftsmen underneath them. Jonah led one of the three two-man field crews, a pitiful number by the standards of the industry. It had previously been standard procedure to have two three-man crews, but the nature of recent jobs had made it more cost-efficient to have an additional crew to cover more sites. Once upon a time, Rossi had been one of the biggest firms in the Southeast in their field, but the recession had hit them hard. With the housing market drying up practically overnight and construction projects screeching to an abrupt halt, the company never truly recovered.

Decker made his way inside and to the office of his boss, Daniel Matlock. The man nodded to him as he entered. He was in his mid-50s, with salt-and-pepper hair, a slight paunch, and ruddy skin. Jonah had quickly learned that Matlock was a no-nonsense supervisor. He trusted the workers underneath him to do their jobs until they proved unworthy of that trust, at which point they usually weren’t long for the company. Luckily, Decker had passed the older man’s battery of unspoken tests early on.

“Mornin’, Sarge,” Daniel remarked flatly. No matter how often Decker reminded him that he was no longer serving, his boss still insisted on using the nickname. Jonah returned the greeting as Matlock leaned back in his office chair, rubbing an exasperated hand across his face. “I’ll be honest with ya. We don’t have much in the pipe for work. I don’t know if it has to do with all that rabies shit they keep shouting about on the news or what, but we haven’t been getting many calls lately. A few more quotes for fence line surveys than normal… but the pay from those barely covers our expenses.”

Decker remained silent, arms crossed in front of him. Was he about to be laid off?

“Anyway, we’ll figure it out. For now we’ve got a site plan downtown, near the Tech campus. Should be fairly straightforward. Address is on the folder,” he remarked, handing Jonah a manila envelope with the relevant information about the job printed neatly on the front. “Bring Mikey with you. Shouldn’t take long; hopefully you guys can beat the rain before it rolls in.” Matlock remarked before turning back to his computer. Jonah knew that was as close to a dismissal as he was going to get.

***

The cold rain poured down Jonah’s neck, flowing from the bill of his cap in a miniature waterfall. He cursed under his breath, rolling up the measuring tape. “14.3!” Decker called out. Down the alleyway from him, Michael nodded and desperately attempted to hastily transfer the measurement into writing on the rain-soaked sketch of the warehouse he’d made.

“’Maybe we’ll beat the rain’…” Jonah muttered.

“Say again?” Michael asked, looking up from his drawing.

Decker shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s head back to the truck. We’re done here.” The two of them jogged through the downpour back to the work truck, tossing their equipment in the back of the covered bed.

“Aw, hell,” Michael groaned. “I forgot the tripod back behind the warehouse.”

Jonah stifled a sigh. “I’ll grab it,” he said, handing the keys over to Mike. “But you’re driving.” Decker turned and made his way back into the rain – his shirt completely soaked through now – and down the alleyway leading behind the warehouse. Sure enough, the tripod was waiting for him in what used to serve as a loading dock back when the warehouse was still active.

Decker was approaching the tripod when he heard the sound of shuffling just inside the doors of the outbuilding to his right. He whirled around in surprise, seeing the emaciated form of a man curled up in a corner near the sliding doors. He was shivering, arms wrapped around his knees. His clothes were ragged, his face unshaven. Undoubtedly homeless, a common sight downtown. Jonah felt a pang of sympathy for him. He knew most like this man weren’t bad people, just… victims of bad circumstances.

Jonah frowned when he saw a tint of red on the man’s forearm. Focusing on it, his eyes widened when he recognized it as blood surrounding a gash in the skin – a deep one, by the looks of it. Was that… a bite mark? Swallowing deeply, Decker approached the man, hands raised non-threateningly. “You all right, bud?”

He looked up at Jonah, eyes wide, just now realizing he wasn’t alone. The man mumbled something under his breath, shaking his head and beginning to rock back and forth. Something caught Jonah’s eye on the floor surrounding the man. A syringe, recently discarded by the looks of it. And it wasn’t alone. Jonah sighed, his face creasing into a knowing frown.

The man’s mumbles became more intense as he once again looked up to make eye contact with Decker. It took a moment for him to decipher that the guy was asking him for money – and cigarettes. “Sorry bud. I don’t have my wallet on me. Don’t smoke, either. You sure you don’t want me to call someone? Maybe get you some help?”

The man shook his head vehemently, letting out an unintelligible shout, something about “cops”. Jonah once again raised his arms, “Hey, hey. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna—“ he was interrupted by the sound of crunching glass in the alleyway behind the outbuilding. His eyes followed the source of the sound, looking through the window at the back of the room. A blur of movement crossed it. He couldn’t make out just what it had been, though it definitely looked like a person, though their gait was wrong… almost a drunken stagger.

Jonah gave the man on the floor another glance before shaking his head. “Take care of yourself,” he said, turning back to pick up the tripod and heft it onto his shoulder. As he started moving back toward the truck, he heard something coming from the alleyway behind him – a moan, guttural, almost animalistic. Just as he became aware of it and began to turn toward the sound of the noise, thunder cracked overhead, drowning it out. His ears rang.

Decker turned back and hurried to the truck.

***

The Great Panic
​

Jonah leaned back into the couch, listening to the rain pouring against the roof. He'd always liked the rain. Sitting on the porch of their house in the Blue Ridge Mountains growing up, there was nothing he loved more than to watch a storm roll in over the foothills. His eyelids were growing heavy as the patter grew more intense...

Knock, knock.

His eyes snapped open to the sound, unsure if he'd only imagined it at first. Then, it came again; someone was at his door. Standing up, he hurried over and glanced through the peephole. Sabrina. Jonah sighed, raised a hand to rub at his temple before smoothing his hair, taking a deep breath before opening the door up. She stood there, just on the other side of the screen door. She offered a meager smile.

"I'm sorry, I should've called," she began anxiously, not meeting his gaze.

Jonah waved the apology away. "No, no. It's fine. Just wasn't expecting to see you is all."

Sabrina bit her lip. "I, uh, still have some things here. I just came by to grab them."

"Oh." Decker said flatly. Then, recovering, he opened the screen door up and stepped aside. "Come on in."

She murmured a thanks before stepping inside, a duffel bag hanging from her shoulder. She went from room to room, collecting odds and ends left over from their short-lived relationship. She had never officially moved in, but things had been heading that way... until they weren't. The breakup, such as it was, had been amicable. There was no messy fight, no infidelity. Just two young working professionals with no time for each other. They had grown apart. No one's fault, they'd said.

"You know, I would have been happy to gather up all of this and bring it by your apartment," Jonah called into the hallway. Sabrina appeared a moment later, the duffel bag noticeably fuller.

"I appreciate it, but this was kind of short notice for me. There's gonna be a lot of long nights at the hospital coming up and I wasn't sure when I'd be able to make it out here," she said.

Jonah's eyebrows raised. "That bad?" The news had been covering a series of so-called "violent incidents" occurring throughout the Metro Atlanta, with all the hallmarks of the rabies attacks in other parts of the world.

Sabrina nodded solemnly. "Pretty bad. Parents are keeping their kids home from school. Some of the staff at the hospital are taking 'long vacations'... stores are being cleaned out." There was an extended silence, Sabrina finally breaking it by clearing her throat. She patted the duffel bag. "I think this is everything. Thanks again."

"No problem," Jonah said, walking her to the door and holding it open for her. She paused at the threshold.

"Oh! I almost forgot. I still have your gun. Let me grab it," she said. He had taught her how to shoot while they were dating, eventually going so far as to give her a small pistol she could carry with her as a gift -- back when things looked like they might get serious between them after a few months together. While it may have seemed a strange gift for one's girlfriend, Jonah had seen it as practical considering the rough neighborhoods surrounding the hospital where she worked and the apartment where she lived... and he was nothing if not practical. Sabrina, for her part, had never protested and she'd been the one to ask for lessons in the first place.

Decker waved her off. "It was a gift. You hold onto it for now. By the sound of things, you'll need it more than me."

Sabrina smiled, nodding hesitantly. "In that case, I guess this is goodbye... you take care of yourself, Jonah," Sabrina said, standing up on her tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, nodding.

"You too." He watched her pull out of the dirt drive and head down the road, sighing deeply. Turning to head back inside the house, he shut the door behind him and locked it. He paused, glancing over at the end table.

A framed photograph sat there. It centered on a large group of young men in full "battle rattle": desert camouflage fatigues, body armor, rifles. Some were kneeling up front, others standing behind them. Decker's stature had guaranteed that he was one of the latter, towering over most of his fellow Marines. He barely recognized himself. A banner was visible behind the unit as they posed: a gray castle inside of a blue diamond, with a red "1" interposed over the center of the structure. An inscription was engraved into the bronze plaque attached to the bottom of the picture frame:

Company B
1st Combat Engineer Battalion
United States Marine Corps
"The Super Breed"
Al Anbar Province, Iraq - 2006

***
​

The next day, Jonah could tell that something was different. The normally quiet ride to work was twice interrupted by the sound of emergency sirens. A Sheriff's Deputy nearly ran him off the road attempting to pass him, lights flashing as Decker pulled over to let him by.

Jonah turned the radio on, switching to a news channel. The droning voice of an anchor intoned: "...The governor declined to comment on whether a state of emergency will be declared and the National Guard deployed, though anonymous sources inside the Georgia Emergency Management Agency and the Department of Public Safety report that both are forthcoming..."

Jonah frowned, continuing to listen. The protesting had been going on for days now, people seeking answers or help as the case may be. There had been a notable lack of widespread rioting and looting, though the Red Cross was standing by.

Jonah gripped the steering wheel tighter and continued the drive...

***

​

"This is bullshit, man," Michael remarked over the sound of honking horns.

"You said that already," Jonah muttered, his elbow propped up against the window, head resting on his hand. The bumper-to-bumper traffic seemed endless. Both directions of the interstate leading into -- and out of -- Atlanta were clogged as far as the eye could see in either direction.

"What does Daniel expect us to accomplish when we're stuck in this traffic jam?"

Decker sighed. "Company needs to pay the bills," he said absentmindedly.

"Which explains why they have us out here, burning gas in a company truck with no hope of getting to the job."

Jonah didn't say anything. Mike was venting and it wouldn't do any good to stoke the fires of his frustration. In truth, he had a point. Traffic around Atlanta was near-impassable with the riots going on. Not to mention the mass exodus of people who believed it was safer to take their family and belongings and flee downtown... and the influx of those who believed the opposite. Decker was already considering calling it and turning the truck around at the next exit -- Daniel's expectations be damned -- when something in the southbound lane caught his attention.

He saw a flash of lights clearing a path through the vehicles, the vehicle it was attached to blaring its siren and emergency horn until they moved aside, even onto the shoulder if need be. It was a State Trooper's cruiser with lights flashing, but what was more remarkable was the convoy behind it. School buses -- dozens of them -- with blacked-out windows. Red crosses were painted on the side. They followed behind the police cruiser, in turn followed by a blacked-out SUV that brought up the rear. Jonah and Michael turned to look at one another, expressions blank.

Without a word, Jonah steered the truck slowly towards the nearest exit. As if on cue, he thought he heard a loud series of pops over the noise of traffic and fading sirens. The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end, the sound triggering old responses he thought long forgotten as his hairs stood on end.

A car backfiring maybe... or gunshots.

***​

Jonah stuck to the backroads where possible during the drive back to the office. Nonetheless, he saw no shortage of emergency vehicles on the way. Dropping Michael back at the office, Decker started to climb back into his own truck before hesitating. Opening up the bed of the work vehicle, he reached in to grab a few choice items, tossing them into his own truck before climbing in and heading home.

Pulling up into the driveway, his heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw the door to his house wide open. His hand went to his glove compartment out of instinct, opening it up and rummaging around inside... finding nothing but old bills and napkins.

Of course. Sabrina has it.

Muttering a curse, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed 911, only to be met with the robotic voice of an automated recording: "All circuits are currently busy, please hang up and try again. If this is an emer--"

Jonah hung up, stepping cautiously from his truck before reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small folding knife. He carefully made his way inside, searching room-to-room.

As it turned out, his concern was unfounded. Whoever had broken in, they were long gone. They hadn't bothered with electronics or traditional valuables... only his gun safe. Its contents -- every firearm, every cartridge -- were gone. A small, hand-scrawled note was left behind: I'm sorry

Letting out another stream of curses, Jonah balled the note up in his hands and flung it against the far wall. He then went about cleaning up the house as best he could, securing the front door, and taking stock of what supplies he had left. He had no idea what was coming... but he knew that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. The adrenaline dump that marked when something very, very bad was about to happen. He hadn't felt it a single day of his civilian life... and now it was back.

 

[Crono]

Two Weeks before the Great Panic

It was a chilly morning in Chicago, but no more than usual. People were still going about their business, cars were bustling. Currently Ethan was standing on to porch of Diane Thompson's porch in his jogging outfit. He'd stopped by on his run this morning as planned, and by stopped by, it's actually pretty far out of the way. And he'd actually driven most of the way before setting out on his morning jog. Currently Ethan resides in Bridgeport, not the best neighborhood but not the worst either. Diane however, the well off lawyer friend lives in Lincoln Park. Diane was catching Ethan up on the case, the one to allow Ethan to gain guardianship of his younger siblings, and it wasn't going well.

"So, what are you saying?" Ethan asked, turning rather abruptly from where he'd been standing.

Diane gave the man a thoughtful look, the brunette woman shaking her head, "Like I said, they aren't willing to testify."

"You should have let me talk to them first." Ethan spoke, leaning back and sitting on the white wooden railing ignoring the look from the woman in front of him.

"And risk you blowing this case up? No way in hell. I want this to work just as much as you do, lord knows those kids need out of there. But this has to be done by the books because it's already a rocky case to begin with."

Ethan chewed at his lower lip, he knew that this wasn't going to be easy since the beginning. But damn if he just didn't want it to work out, and quickly. "I understand, I just hate all of these legalities. If I'd been there then maybe they would have said yes. They need to know that I have their back no matter how this all ends."

"Ethan, they're scared. Remember for a second that they are still kids, they're afraid we won't win and they'll go into the system and be split up. So yes, maybe it would have helped. And maybe it wouldn't have. Stop dwelling on it and let's move on to the next step." At this point Diane had placed her hands on her hips and was clearly not about to back down.

"Which is?"

"Proving that you are a suitable guardian. That you can provide for them and that they'd be safe with you." The eyes she was giving him told Ethan not to say what he was about to say about his prison time, that she understood but was still spelling the process out for him.

"I even got the place in Bridgeport, to get further out from those neighborhoods."

"It's a start but you're still right on the border, but that's still more than enough. Just don't expect it to have a huge effect when it comes down to the case is all."

The conversation continued another twenty minutes before the two spoke goodbye's and Ethan continued his jog. Unsure if he was closer or further away from his goal.


Great Panic

Ethan was sat at his place of work, Melvin's Auto Shop which was a local establishment. Currently he was in his blue work coveralls with sleeves rolled up, both hands and forearms black with grease. Beside him was Melvin and the other employee Quinton, the three were staring at the television mounted on the wall as the president gave the announcement. The place was deathly quiet as it ended and the three men took in what they'd just been told.

Melvin was the first to move, and Ethan looked at the older man briefly before he spoke. "Alright. Quinton you live clear across town so you'd better get going. Ethan you live closer, will you help me lock this place up tight before you head out?" Ethan had nodded in reply, the younger Quinton had murmured a thanks before walking briskly for the back door.

Forty-five minutes later after all but barricading half the place and locking most things up a loud noise outside caused the two men to pause and look at each other. There was faint shouting, followed by horns blaring. Melvin cursed silently, "Forget the rest Ethan, you get home safe."

"You too boss, say hey to the missus for me." Ethan cast the man a wave before heading towards the back door himself. The first thing he noticed when stepping outside was the sirens in the distance as well as the smell of smoke and momentarily he realized that this was more serious than originally thought. So Ethan wasted no time, walking quickly to his 2002 Ford pickup and pulling out of the back lot and onto the street. A rather empty street until he'd turned at the intersection to find a small mob of people partially blocking the road, some running in and out of an electronic store with no windows left intact, all with arms full of stolen goods. Jesus people, you act like the worlds ending. Ethan reversed back to the intersection, planning to take the longer route when his cell rang.

An unknown number but local, Ethan flipped it open and held it to his ear. "Hello?" He asked, head turning to look down his destined road to see how clear it was. "Ethan...?" The voice was distraught, female, and even if it had been a while he quickly recognized it. "Danny? Danny, what's wrong?" He asked with great concern, ignoring everything but the phone for the moment as the truck idled. They weren't really meant to be having contact with the current case, but he'd asked Diane had slipped the twins his number in case of an emergency.

"Thank god. Mom and dad wouldn't let us inside, Rob's got a cold and they think he's got the rabies or whatever." The young girl had to to pause to breathe, clearly she was more distraught than he'd assumed or they'd been running. "Where are you, I'm coming to get you right now." Ethan interjected, he wasn't taking no for an answer, and he had a guess that was the reason she'd called anyhow. "Trayner street, near 5th." She'd replied without hesitation and Ethan was already turning the truck in that direction. "Stay on the phone with me, what happened?"

"We were going to a friends place to hold up instead but we got caught up in a riot but things got violent, there's been gunshots all over the place down here Ethan. I'm afraid to leave the alley we ducked into." Why Ethan only paid attention to the background noise of shouting, and a siren he wasn't sure. But having his younger sister admit that she was afraid only spurred him to drive faster with one hand on the wheel and the other on the phone.

"Okay, I'll be there in--" Ethan paused, driving around a corner and nearly colliding into a larger mob than the one before and he laid his hand down on the horn to get them to move. They did with many angry shouts, and he drove slowly through the crowd. Danny asked what was wrong but Ethan told her everything was fine while he focused on driving slowly through the crowd, trying not to hit anyone. However once he reached the next intersection he was met with a line of riot geared police, "I don't have time for this." He spoke to himself, much to Danny's confusion, turning he set out for the side of the roadblock with the intent to just go around it.

However two of the officers stepped in his way with hands up to stop him, Ethan hit the brakes and rolled down his window as stepped around to talk to him. Or rather, yell at him to turn his ass around, that this area was being blocked off. "My brother and sister are in there out in the open, you have got to let me through."

To his dismay the officer didn't look bothered before returning to his partner at the front of the vehicle, and then Ethan heard the movement over the phone like someone rubbed clothing against it. "Get your damn hands off me!" He could hear Danny yelling further away from the phone, having likely dropped it.

That was that, Ethan dropped the cell phone into his lap and put both hands on the steering wheel as he glared at the officers. The pickup moved forwards just a bump as he hit the gas before immediately hitting the brakes, any further and the two would have been knocked to the ground. It was a challenge, a dare, a threat. They were to move or risk being run down. Ethan's eyes darted from one man to the other as both looked at him wondering if he would, and he had to guess that the look on his face was a dead serious one because they caved and scurried out of the trucks way.

Ethan hit the gas, the ford truck jumped the curb as he drove around the blockade of vehicles and driving swiftly away.​

 

[DemetrioMachete]

The Great Panic
​

The door to and from the gymnasium squeaked open, as Merlin departed, glossed in sweat as a man who punches others for a living ought to be. After a drink of water, he headed back up to the penthouse, ready to take it easy for the day. First thing on the Tele was, once again, in relation to the Africanized Rabies. Talk of riots and such in the bigger cities. He looked out the window, a glorious view of Battle Creek, and he saw no such rioting occurring. There was no need for this nonsense, the Boxer thought. Maybe his celebrity presence could quell the masses? Boxing may have taken a backseat to UFC, in recent years, but with no Brock Lesnar, Chuck Liddel or Jon Jones to appeal to those outside the fandom, maybe he would have some reputation. He got his phone ready, and began recording a video. As soon as he was ready, he began to speak.

"Ey, America. It's yo boy Merlin Perkins. For those of you who don't know me, I'm the Heavyweight Champion of Boxing, right now. Now, I'm a little concerned about these riots going on in the big cities. We folk in Battle Creek ain't freakin' out, neither should you. I mean, i's just rabies, right? Y'all jus' need to get some vaccines, know what I'm sayin? Y'cant just take out your aggression and your fear on what ever you want. Fear makes you weak, dog. And aggression, man, that needs to stay in the ring. Hell, the last two epidemics, they weren't shit. This whole rabies scare, it'll go away. Let them homies at CDC do their jobs. Wash yo hands, see a doctor if you can, and if you can't power out the sickness."

He took a deep breath. And then continued.

"Take it from the Wizard. I remember my first career blemish. It was against this crackhead back in 2011. I went to the ring fighting a battle with Yellow Fever. I didn't get no one sick, luckily.. but I didn't win that fight. Judged scored a no contest. If I.. If I can go to a boxing match with Yellow Fever and stay up for 15 rounds, man we Americans can ride out a little rabies. We jus' gotta stay calm, dog! Peace."

Afterwards, he uploaded the video to his YouTube and FaceBook accounts. Hopefully the people would heed his words, before they let fear overtake them.

It wasn't long afterwards before he received a call from his trainer, Jack Stein. Deciding this must have been important, Merlin answered.

"W'sup, cuz?" Merlin answered.

"Playa, we need to get up outta the States. Get down to the lobby, we're gonna catch a plane to New Zealand." Jack sounded urgent.

"What? What for? Why New Zealand?"

"New Zealand is isolated, baby! Now come on, quit stalling!"

Jack hung up, and Merlin shook his head in frustration. The Penthouse practically belonged to him. He didn't want to leave, though. Maybe some other prolific celebrity would come and claim it. Nonetheless, he made his way downstairs to the lobby, where Jack was waiting for him.

"Ain't got no time to lose, Merlin let's get goin!"

"Old man we ain't trainin', don't rush me!"

(I will add more when I can think of how them attempting to leave will fail.)

 

[NanLia]

Ginny arrived home shortly after leaving the kids school, both Liza-May and Jackson were quiet, and it worried her greatly, but she didn’t want to bring up anything until she had them safe in their home. She wanted them to feel comfortable and safe before she brought up any upsetting topics. As she pulled up to the house she could already see Marta’s pensive face. The moment she stepped out of the truck her housekeeper was speaking.

“Miss Gin.” She said, Ginny couldn’t convince her to call her by her name without the formality before it, at the very least she stopped calling her Mrs. Wallace. “I waited for you to come back, so you wouldn’t think I left, but I need to go home. My son is sick.” She was taking the few steps down the front porch. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh! No Marta, go home!” Ginny did her best to give her friend a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. Your family needs you, comeback when you can. Okay?” She waited in the lane way as Marta got into her car, and then waited longer until she was out of sight. Her kids were waiting by the door way, inside the house, still quiet.

***​

Ginny final got her kids relaxed and settled on the couch; the only way the two would settle was if they could both lay with her. After a bit of maneuvering Liza-May finally settled by wedging herself between Ginny and the couch and Jackson sprawled a top of her. After only half an hour of their Netflix cartoon movie, both kids were fast asleep.

Ginny used this time, when the kids were asleep and she wouldn’t disturb them, to search the local news sites on her phone to find out exactly what this curfew and presidential speech was about. At first the thought it was some hoax, a virus sweeping across the nation, infecting indiscriminately, but moving from her local news site to CNN she could see reports of illness and chaos across the county. New York had been shut down, the police and military refusing to even enter until the rioting ended. Los Angeles was in flames, people tearing people apart.

There were other sites, as well, that were boasting information about the ‘Africanized Rabies’, that it’s symptoms were identical to the flu; high fever, vomiting, nausea. And it wasn’t even the infection that killed it’s victims in the end, it was the symptoms. Of course, as it typically occurred when trolling the internet, she wandered from the beaten path to far more odd websites, sites that offered conspiracy theories, the most prevalent was that once the victims of the virus died, they would come back to life and attack anything living.

At this point Ginny forced herself to stop looking up anything else; she’d done enough to worry herself, anything more and she wouldn’t be able to keep her worries from her kids. With a sigh she set the phone on the coffee table and settled in for a quiet afternoon nap.

***​

True to his work Charlie showed up in the evening to check on Ginny and the kids. The family was in the back of the house, preparing dinner and so the Reserve let himself into the house; no one ever knocked around McCone County, if the door was locked it meant no one was home.

“Gin?” He called out and was rewarded with the sight of her poking her head around the corner to see who it was. “Common in, Charlie!” She called and disappeared out of sight again. He took off his boots and coat before heading down the long hallway into the old farm kitchen.

Ginny was at the stove with her cast iron fry pans, cooking steak. “God bless you, Gin.” He said as he came into the room further, the kids were at the table, both earbuds in, watching videos on their phones. She laughed, taking the pans from the stove and putting them in the over to finish cooking, turning off the jets. “You got enough for a fourth for dinner?” He asked and was delighted with her laugh again.

***​

“Dinner was divine.” Charlie told Ginny after the kids were in bed and the two were sitting on the swing out. Night had rolled in and the stars were visible in the cloudless sky. Nothing could be heard by the crickets and muted squeak from the swing as it moved. Ginny had opened a bottle of wine with dinner, but once that was gone they had turned to the Jack Daniels.

“Shut up.” Ginny said with a giggle, shaking her head.

“No really Gin, best steak and potatoes this side of the Rockies.” He confirmed, and then noted her glass was empty. He slid across the seat, bottle in hand. He nudged her wrist and she complied, holding out the glass so he could fill it. “Mind you, that beef can’t be beat.” Once more she was flushing; embarrassed.

“Thank you.” She said finally, looking away.

They sat in silence for a long while; the two had known each other years, since high school. Charlie had been Joe’s best friend, and by that factor, he had been Ginny’s too. Once more her glass was empty, but when Charlie attempted to refill it, she stopped him. “I’m good.” She said, with a slight slur.

Charlie nodded, setting the bottle down under the swing and tipping back the rest of the contents of his glass before resting it on the porch next to the bottle.

“I should go to bed.” She said finally, attempting to get off the swing, but failing the first time. She giggled and tried again, successfully shuffling forward to lean on the railing. She turned to smile to Charlie. “Thanks for coming out to see us.” Cheeks flushed with the effects of the alcohol she had drunk. “Really appreciate you keeping an eye on the kids today, too.”

Charlie stood, reaching out to take her hand gently. “I could stay, Gin.” He said quietly, and watched her expression change. No longer smiling the woman looked sad by the idea.

“I can’t,” She started to explain but Charlie cursed.

“Christ, Ginny. “ He turned away, taking a step before turning back. “It’s been years since Joe,” He cut himself off. “How long you going to wait, Gin? How long does it need to be?” He immediately regretted his words as he watched her face darken. “Sorry Ginny, I-“

She cut him off with a simple gesture. “I’ll wait as long as it takes,” She said, voice cold, no longer giggly or bubbly. “Forever if that’s what it takes.” She was turning towards the open door to the house. “Good night, Charlie.”

***​

The following week in McCone County was rather uneventful. The local city buildings did not reopen, including the schools, which mean Ginny had the kids home all week, though the local businesses stayed open. New reports from across the country was hard to watch. Rioting and looting continued in the larger cities for days after the Presidential announcement. New York, Chicago, Las Vegas, Los Angeles. Ginny had banned the kids from watching the news, even went as far as to restrict sites on her kids devices. She had no doubt they would still find out what was happening; that it looked like the world around them was falling apart, but she felt it was her job to keep as much of this from their eyes as possible.

On CNN they were announcing that the FDA and the CDC were pushing through a vaccine that would prevent infection; they were hoping to have it released to the general public in the next couple of weeks, barring no state officials vetoed it out of the senate. She couldn't imagine any of those political fools questioning it, even if there was a risk of side effects -they did say they were skipping human trials, she felt it would be worth it to prevent watching her kids die horribly.

More reports were coming in from around the world, entire countries were going "dark" as the newscaster called it. North Korea, Japan, a large part of China, all gone. No one was going in or out of those countries, no news, no internet. Hell, when they attempted to use a satellite to get some imaging, even from a distance, it was literal blackout. There were lots of theories as to why, most of which was their domineering government was ruling with an iron fist and refusing to share their information with the rest of the world or the virus had over run the country and they were unable to contain it.

Ginny expressed her concerns with Katie, who clearly didn't share them. Her sister told her, reaffirmed with her, that they were perfectly safe. After all they were living in a first world country, the best of the best and that their government was already on top of it. Hell there was a vaccine on the way. "In two weeks time this will all blow over and we'll be back to doing what we do." Ginny had smiled and thanked her sister for making her feel better, but the truth was she couldn't shake that something was deeply wrong.

Marta hadn't returned to work, her son still ill. Ginny worried after the boy, he had always been prone to sickness but Marta assured her that he would get better. And he did, after a couple of days being nursed back to health by his mother the boys fever had broken and he was one the mend. Ginny insisted Marta stay home until the boy was fully healed before she came back to work; she could handle the farm and affairs on her own until then.

Charlie hadn't returned to the farm, and while Ginny felt bad, guilty even, she was glad he hadn't. This was a reoccurring thing for them, and she was getting plain sick of it. As much as she loved Charlie, she wasn't in love with the man, she wasn't sure if she could ever love anyone else like she had, did Joe. And it wouldn't be fair to anyone she did decide to knock boots with; she belonged to someone else.

On the fifth day after the Presidential announcement Ginny and the kids were out for an early morning ride, just to see how the herd was fairing. They were still a few weeks away from starting breeding for the next two years of stock, but she liked to keep an eye on the mostly wild cattle. The kids had restarted their summer chores, much to their dismay and after the two had neatly groomed Moose, Kit Kat and Buttons, the three were out in the fields tracking down the 200 head of cattle that remained of Ginny's breeding stock.

It took a few hours to find new tracks for them; they had wandered far further than they typically did, and an hour after that the had the herd in sight. A quick count told them none were missing, 200 heifers, 4 bulls and 2 bull-calves all contently grazing in the wild fields, barely aware of their riders approach. Ginny always liked wading Moose through the herd, getting a closer look at the beasts; while many wouldn't bother with this act, Ginny had prevented a great deal of infections and herd death by being able to see the tiniest of issues with the herd. A cow with a tilted head could mean something as simple as an inner ear issue or foot and mouth disease.

As she trailed through the heard, making her second pass she noted one of the bulls was being avoided by the rest of the herd. He stood off, a good twenty feet, and every time he wandered closer to any of the cows, they moved away, keeping an equal distance. This was behavior she had never seen before. Freeing herself from the herd she approached the bull then dismounted Mouse, letting his reins free. She had no fear that Moose would wander, nor any fear of the bull. The 2.000 pound beast could easily kill her without a second thought she knew the animals temperament. She had made a point of hand raising her breeding bulls; just for this reason.

The beast snorted as she came closer, nodding his head in warning. She paused, looking him over. He was covered, no drenched in what could only be identified as dried blood. Brown thick liquid oozed from his horns, down his chest and shoulders and coated his forelegs and hooves. This was not uncommon for Ginny's herd; the bulls and cows often drover off wolves and coyotes that thought they could get an easy meal but this.... This was far more blood than one wolf or one coyote had. And it looked old, dead blood. She had inspected every other breast there and he was the only one.

She raised a hand, palm out and the beast backed away, snorting once more. She waited, he was spooked and she knew eventually he would come to her. She was not wrong, after a few minutes of standing still he edged forward, foot by foot until his forehead pressed against her palm. "There you are, boy." She crooned, and he nodded his head again. Pulling the rope from her belt she looped it around his neck easily. Returning to Moose she led the bull back to the barnyard.

After cleaning him up and inspecting him he seemed entirely uninjured; whatever he had attacked hadn't even injured the beast. She turned him back to the fields to return to the herd before dark, making a note to call the local farmers and inquire after their own herds. There maybe a new pack of wolves moving into the territory they would need to deal with.

 

[DemetrioMachete]

Jacl lead Merlin to the limousine, ordering the driver to take them to the nearest airport. All the while, the Boxer and his trainer conversed.

"So why this? Why this big move?"

"Baby have you not been watching the news? All the big cities in America are fallin' apart!"

"Man, that's because they're scared. Rabies is a scary thing. Africanized is a scary word. They'll get over their fear."

"Well I don't wanna risk my fighter getting sick! New Zealand or bust, Playa!"

At this, Merlin could only shake his head in disdain.

"Wasn't it you that said that Fighters found strength, not excuses? Ebola and Swine Flu passed through and I didn't get sick from either one, man. Rabies ain't no thang."

"AFRICANIZED rabies! Like an Africanized Bee, they don't just stop at stinging ya, baby they gotta kill you before they stop!"

"What ever you say, man."

Soon after, they arrived at the airport. The Wizard's mouth dropped. It was plumb full of people attempting to leave the country. He didn't know how they were gonna get through that. Jack, however, had an idea.

"Ey ey ey ey! Make way, playas! Merlin Perkins comin through!" He shouted and waved, motioning for the Boxer to follow him. To Merlin's surprise, some of these people actually parted ways to let him through, even fewer asking for autographs and such, though Jack shood them away, laughing.

"Ahahahahaaa! Star power, baby! Merlin, you untouchable!" Merlin sat quietly as Jack handled the preparation of the flight.

"Lil lady, think you can book a flight for New Zealand, today?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. New orders. We can only book flights to Canada and Mexico, now, in light of the Epidemic." At this, Jack seemed to get frustrated, but saved face by gesturing to Merlin.

"Maybe you don't know us. But that boi there is Merlin Perkins, the Wizard of Boxing and the Heavyweight Champion. Now I think that should warrant a flight to New Zealand."

The lady hesitated for a second, but she shook her head.

"Sorry sir, we had to do away with Celebrity Privilege. I-I could get you a discounted flight to Cana-"

"Naw naw naw, baby! We got to get my fighter as far away from America as possible! It's falling apart at the seams!"

"Jack, you're making a scene, man..."

"Hush up, Playa, I got this. Now get us a Flight to New Zealand, or we'll sue!"

"I'm really sorry, sir, but I simply cant."

Unknown to the two, the lady had pressed the button for Security, who arrived and promptly escorted Merlin and Jack out of the airport. They got back in the Limo, headed for the Penthouse.

"Where's that "Star Power" now, you old fool?"

"I was just tryin' to keep you safe, Playa."

"Fool, I live in the Penthouse of the Battle Creek Hotel, whatever it's called! Ain't no rabies gonna reach me up there! What you wanna hang out with me until the Rabies blows over?"

"Yeah, yeah I guess. But I don't want no excuses when we get some rabid room service bangin' at the door!"

"Whatever, old man."

Upon arriving in Merlin's room, Jack turned on the TV again. He needed to know everything that was happening. Merlin, meanwhile, ordered some dinner. Tonight would be Porterhouse steak and fried potatoes...

 

[St. Boethius]

To say Norman's first week after setting up were horrible was an understatement. After setting up several Decontamination zones in the city, each zone overseen by one of his specialists, he was still getting reports that all zones were experiencing an overflow of patients. The first few days all the decontamination zones did was sift through those that were sick and those that were 'infected'. Norman and his team had been given the run down on exactly what this virus was and frankly he still wasn't sure if it was real, but what he believed didn't matter. What mattered was keeping it contained to the city. Each of the decontamination zones were heavily guarded by military personal and any ruckus was met with.. extreme caution. As such even though he could hear the distant sounds of riots and no doubt looting it wasn't what concerned him at the moment. With the Police as well as the National Guard it wouldn't take long to lockdown the city. Honestly Norman spent most of his first week on the radio talking his squad through procedures. For most of them it was the first time actually doing their jobs outside drills and the panic was setting in. They were ordered to take blood and do full body examinations for any bite marks. If any were found they were... marked for disposal. The infected were loaded up like cattle and sent off to the slaughter. If that wasn't bad enough another function of his team was to... get rid of the bodies. There was only one quick and dirty way to ensure nothing was left behind:Fire.

As the Sergeant in charge in charge of the unit Norman gave that job to himself alone. He didn't want anyone else in his unit to have to deal with such a harsh job. With the help of some heavy equipment what amounted to mass graves were almost constantly being dug on the outside of the city. Graves that Norman would turn into Pyres. To make matters worse he had to double check each body he received to ensure that all the infected reported found during the day were accounted for. Bureaucracy at its finest, and so the pattern of checking names off a list and matching pictures to faces began for a week. Every every few hours another few bodies would be brought to him along with news. The driver apologized to Norman as he handed him the list this time. Norman gave him a strange look as it had been the first time he had done so. After helping Norman get all the body bags into the grave the driver even stayed behind for a moment to once again apologize before the Indian-American went him on his way. Norman didn't understand what was going on with that man until he started going down the line matching names to body bags. At this point, after 4 days of this, Norman just made sure the names matched. It was right when he got to the C's that he understood why the driver had apologized to him. What was his last name doing on this list? It couldn't be! Norman dropped the clipboard approached the two body bags warily. It was all so surreal, those couldn't be his parents right.... It couldn't, but as Norman opened up the body bags to find find his parents staring back at him with dead eyes he retched and could barely get his gas mask off in time to vomit. Norman took a moment, just a moment to process how this could have happened before getting up and continuing. The next truck was due soon and he didn't need to get behind. This hole was almost full so he could go ahead and prepare the fuel.

With the last trick came more bodies and different orders as well. He was being assigned a new duty. His request for more men had been granted and with Memphis all but contained, if you could call daily riots suppressed by a Mexican stand off with the army contained, His unit and an escort Alpha Unit would pack up and head out to worse off cities, starting with Chicago apparently, to set up decontamination units and teach the new protocol the ground units there. Once the final Bonfire was lit he said a prayer for his parents before letting his team know to pack there things.

When Norman and his team first got off transport at the edge of Chicago they immediately knew things were getting bad. While they were on transport they had gotten news that the Governor of Tennessee had declared Marshal Law and reiterated the new policies Norman and his team had practiced in Memphis. Norman could only hope this procedures would work out. When Norman let the Commanding Officer know his duties he thought it was insane. To set up decontamination zones inside a city the size of Chicago was just asking more Norman and his men to get overwhelmed and left for dead. With no other choice Norman and his Alpha escort unit would set up the first testing center at the edge of the city and slowly work their way in.

 

[Jackstack]

Houston ​

Houston watch the TVs, he watched the local news station, as well as CNN. Local news was significantly more bearable. The reporters were showing stores being filled by the hundreds, reports of the stores running out of supplies. There were military transport trucks coming into Pittsburgh, filled with supplies and soldiers. There were scenes of people standing in long lines that stretched for blocks, leading to the military trucks with food rations. Houston’s belief that this disease would blow over dwindled with every scene, the scenes that scared him the most were the ones where people were being shot or beaten. Pittsburgh was on the cool down period now, the schools were still closed, and the police were now acting in a supporting role to the military. Hotline numbers, in big red letters, outlined in black, were shown so people could report anyone infected with the disease. The helicopters and the emergency responder sirens were still blaring, he could hear them faintly from his house. Occasionally, a police cruiser or ambulance would speed past his house. He locked his doors, shut his blinds, and made sure that his gun was near by. When he first went home, that’s one of the first things he did. He had taken the gun out of the lockbox and put the gun in the back of his waist. The ammo was simply put in his pocket. He had thought about getting a holster, but never got around to it. Guns weren’t something he was fond of, he just thought that they were a necessity. Pittsburgh was relatively calm, the reports stated the military had everything under control. His girlfriend was a police officer, he tried contacting her, but kept getting the answering machine. He left a message, asking if she was alright, and if she would want to stay the night at his place. She had no family in the area, and many of her friends were cops too, so they would be busy as well. After everything in the house was set, he sat on the couch to plan what he was going to do. First, he was going to call his brother, then he was going to call his parents. He worried about his brother, his brother lived in California, near Los Angeles. This is where the national and international news become grim. Most of the poorer countries were now no longer in contact, they stated that the governments are presumed to have fallen. Though, the conspiracy theorists thought that these countries were doing it on purpose, to his their vaccine or cure. Houston couldn’t make heads or tails of it, he had clients in Japan who he was in contact with up until three days ago. The local news reported that most of the major cities in the US were in bad shape, Los Angeles being the worst of them all. There was reports that the city was in flames and that the military completely abandoned it. This is the reason why he was worried about his brother. He held the phone in his hand, twisting it in intervals of two or three. He didn’t want to call, he didn’t want to get that answering machine because he knew what that could mean. He was waiting for that text or call to indicate that his brother was alright, but it never came. As he sat, he gave out a last sigh and unlocked his phone. He would scroll through the contacts as if he couldn’t find the number, he was just prolonging the inevitable. He then picked on the number that was his brother’s and made the call. It rang, and it rang, until the answering machine picked up. He could hear the voice that was provided by the phone, his brother never bothered to set up his own. After the saying “After the Tone, please leave a message.” *beeeep, he asked if he would call him back and to see if he was all right. He told him that he loved him and that Pittsburgh was secure. Then he hung up, the last people to call were his parents. They were up in Albany, New York. His parents decided to move into a community apartment after his mother retired. His grandparents originally lived up there, but his grandfather died of heart complications, and his grandmother died after getting pneumonia. Houston’s mother stated that her mother really died of a broken heart. Which could have been true, she probably didn’t fight the disease as well as she could. So, his parents just stayed up there, they loved the gaming nights, and the pool. His father sure was fond of that pool, he was there almost every day. His mother just preferred to stay out and read a book, it was her way. Houston called the mainline, not their cell phones, god only knew when they would ever answer them. There was a ring and a ring, then his father picked up the phone, “Hey, Houston” his father said. There was a weight lifted off of his shoulders, houston held the phone a little closer to his ear, “Hey dad, I just wanted to call you to make sure that everything in your neck of the woods was alright. Just worried and all”, his father gave a reassuring laugh, “Yeah, we’re fine, we are just being told to stay in-doors. The military came over earlier, they came to get a few people from their apartment. The rumor is that they were sick or had died. Your mother is shaking at the heels about that. I told her that we’d be fine, we are at the younger end of the spectrum to worry about being too old to whether the disease.” Houston genuinely laughed at that, “Everything here in Pittsburgh here is like that as well. We were told to stay in our homes and to report anyone who might be sick or dead. I haven’t seen any of that for myself, but I guess it has to be true if they are advising it to the general public. Most of the stores are open, but stocks are running low, the military now has decided to give out those MREs. Or something equivalent to that.”,

“Yeah son, we are facing the same thing. Though, the military is handing out food door to door for us old folk. I guess we are too old to fight the mob.” then there was some interruption from his mother, in the background, you could hear her asking for the phone. Then his father gave her the phone, “Houston, hey, are you doing alright?”, “Yes mom, I’m in my home and having everything on lockdown.” there was a sigh in her voice, but when she spoke, there was still a concern, “Have you talked to your brother.” He could not lie to his mother, he couldn’t bear it. “No mom, I have not. I tried calling him but no answer.” He thought she sobbed for a moment, but her voice came back. “Honey, you be safe, I don’t want you trying to be a hero or anything”, and he said “Sure” and gave a last goodbye and hung up. He stood up, and walked into the kitchen, there was no one left that he had to worry about. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to go out and risk getting attacked or getting sick. He couldn’t just stand here and contemplate about what might happen, that would drive him insane. He did not know his neighbors, they had moved into the house on the right a few weeks ago. He was closer to the older couple who lived there before the new neighbors, but that was about it. The house on the left, which was deteriorating everyday, sat empty without a owner. It had already been abandoned when he moved into his home, and the story goes that the previous couple just left. That could be the community not willing or knowing the true story. He decided to eat, though, it was more stress eating more than anything. Houston usually made himself a meal, such as hamburger or spaghetti, but he didn’t feel like preparing. There were several packets of Ramen Noodles, the beef flavor, in the cupboard above and to the right of the left of the sink. He took them out and put them in a medium sized, blue plastic, microwaveable bowl. He was surprised that the power had not gone our or flickered. As the microwave cooked the food, he would walk back into his living room and listen if the were still any sirens outside. He was hearing if Pittsburgh was still in overload mode. They were still there, but most of the sirens were far off, such as near the hospital or the ghetto of Pittsburgh. There hadn’t been a emergency responder by his house since he called his brother. Maybe things were coming back to normal, this did not let his guard down. He would feel his backside to see if his firearm was still there, and he would feel his pockets to see if the extra ammo was still there. He was nervous, he was scared for his brother and parents. His parents had no relatives up there, and the nearest relative to his brother was three hours away. Then the microwave buzzer went off. He walked over, took a towel off the stove handle and gently put the noodles on the counter. The steam was coming up and it felt good on his face. He took the two packets of seasoning, and put the seasoning in the noodles. He stirred up the combination and walked over to the kitchen table. He didn’t want to eat in the living room because the carpet was new. He sat there, thinking about the situation. What happens if things got worse, what would he do. Finding his brother would be a challenged, who knows where he was, he could be in the hellhole that his called Los Angeles or he could be miles away, headed for somewhere. His parents were in Albany, he could go up there and get them. If the highway was backed up, and the alternative routes too, it could be as long as a day before he got there. If he were to do anything, he would run up and grab his parents. Then he’d have to figure out things from there. Then he felt a buzz in his pocket, it was his phone. The caller Id stated that it was his ex-girlfriend, he dropped the fork and answered the phone, “Hey, is everything alright?”, Houston said, “Yeah, I have just coming off of a sixteen hour shift. I slept in a whole day, they told me I had to.” Houston giving a few agreeing moans, “Well, sure, you need to be able to function.” and she giggled a little bit.

“So, have you decided if you want to stay with me, for the night of course.”,

“No, I can’t, all my stuff is at the condo.”

“Listen, you can get your things later, I think it would be safer at my place. Plus, your condo is close to the inner city, I heard that place is getting bad. There’s a high chance that you will seriously hurt.”

“Well...Maybe you’re right, though, just till this thing blows over, I also have to still go to work, ya know?”

“Yeah, just get over here. My door will be locked so knock or call.”

She said alright and hung up. He finished his Ramen Noodles and did nothing else of significance. He went upstairs to get some extra sheets and pillow for himself, he would sleep on the couch and she could take the bed. About a half an hour passed by before she arrived, she was still in uniform. She walked in and closed to door, “Lock that will you” he shouted from the kitchen, as he hand washed the bowl he used for his Ramen. She took off her black work shoes and walked into the kitchen. Her hair was a mess, and she looked like she had been dragged through the dirt. He walked over to her and asked if she wanted anything to eat. She declined, saying she had a sandwich from her lunch. He looked at her, “Listen, that’s not going to be good enough, you need actual, significant amount of food in your system, especially for your line of work” he took out another bowl and Ramen and repeated the process of what he did before to cook it. She gave him a sarcastic look, “Actual food” and he replied, “Well, it’s better than not eating at all.”. After it was done cooking, the bother sat at the kitchen table, facing each other. She asked how he was managing, “The bank took a hectic turn, people were in and out all day. The top guy finally said for us to go home and wait for a call to come back. He seemed to be confused as all of us, but he was able to push through. I came home and called you, my parents and my brother.”. She listened, but it seemed to be in and out. She told him how there was call after call. There seemed to be no end, she would be assisting a case where someone had falled down, from sickness. Then, she would get a call to stop an assault in progress. She had to pull her gun twice and used the taser once. The taser didn’t work, so, her partner had to subdue the guy by force. They put him in handcuffs and took him to the station. This went on for since she started her shift. She finished her food and asked if she could wash her clothes and herself. He said sure, and hinted that she didn’t need to ask permission. When she left to go do what she asked to do, he went back to watching the news. It was the same old stuff, nothing new. She walked into the living room and asked Houston if he could throw the clothes in the dryer when it was finished, it would be only twenty minutes. He said sure and she asked where to sleep, he said she had the option of the bed or couch. She smiled at him, “I really need that bed tonight..” and he said that she deserved it. Soon after that, she walked back upstairs to the bedroom. He stayed up to finish her clothes, and when they were done drying, he folded them and put there where she would be able to see them. He turned off the TV, made sure the doors and windows were locked, and gave the house one last check up before he went to bed.

His dream that night was one of his most realistic nightmares, he was at the zoo with his mother and father, but there was no brother. He asked his parents where he was, but they would not answer him. He would tug as hard has he could on their hands, but nothing. Soon, the zoo was on fire and there was nowhere to escape. He tried running with them, but they wouldn’t budge, he desperately wanted them to get out, but he had to leave them. People were trampling on him as he tried out of the zoo, he screamed but no one answered.

When he woke up, but there was no shriek, or puddles of sweat, just him lying there on the couch. What woke him up was the sound of his home phone, he got up and ran to the set on the wall near the kitchen. When he picked it up, it was his boss. He looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nine o’clock. He asked why he was calling, his boss said, “We’re calling most of the people back to work. The government had mandated that all banks stay open. According to what I was told, by the upper management, the banks being open is a sign of stability. This will hopefully keep some people from panicking. There’s not much work here for you to do, loans are being halted, along with everything else. Just clear up some paperwork and whatever else you can.” his boss then hung up. He didn’t like the idea of going to the bank, but he thought that it would be fine. Most of the streets were clear. He got ready and headed out to the bank. There was no car pull this time, he had to drive himself. He drove, and the emergency responders and the military were still out patrolling the streets and taking people to the hospital. He would look at the police cars that passed him by carefully, to see if it was his ex-girlfriends cruiser. He thought he spotted her near the subway by his bank, but it left too soon for him to be sure. He walked in, and you could feel the uneasiness in the air, you could feel the fear. The faces at the desks and counters wouldn’t look up at him and the ones that did just gave a nod. As he walked to his office, no one passed him in the hallway. No secretaries rushing to get papers to other workers, no one getting to their office. Houston guessed he was one of the few people to come in. His office light were off and he turned them on. He expected to see something different, like someone ready to kill him, but nothing. He sat his stuff down, like his briefcase, on the chair in front of his desk. He looked out the window, and saw what he saw driving into work. He couldn’t focus on the papers, but he did his best to try to get something accomplished. He would look at them, and adjust some things, then we would look back out the window, expecting it to be normal again. His boss came in around twelve, checking up on him. His boss sat in the chair that was not occupied by his stuff. They exchanged hellos, and Houston asked his boss how his family was doing. His boss sounded relieved, “They’re up in South Dakota with my brother-in-law. They said that the infection is one of the furthest thing from their minds around there. So, once I’m done here, I’m headed up there.” Houston nodded his head. And then his boss asked him about his family, Houston told him about his parents, his boss then gave a relaxed “good” response, and Houston told him his brother was out of contact.

His boss knew how to deal with people, he was good at that. His looked at him, “Listen, don’t jump to conclusions, he could be high-tailing it out of there, and he forgot his phone or it could be dead. Any number of things. You just have to keep your mind on other things in the meantime. Just hope and pray.” Houston then have his boss a appreciative “Thank You”. His boss looked at the papers on the right side of Houston’s desk.

“What do you have done.”

“All this stuff here is checked and ready to be put away.” He said, waving his palm over the papers.

“Good, we’ll get one of the secretaries here to file it.” His boss then got up from the chair, and said goodby. When he walked out, he waved his hand behind his back.

For the rest of the day, he did his work, he didn’t talk to anyone and didn’t go near the lobby. He wanted to avoid that mess as much as possible. He would look out the window, and the scenery would never change. He didn’t even have lunch, he just sat there and did his work. He would sometimes hear footsteps outside his door and into the hallway, but that was seldomly. He would quietly sneak out of his room and use the restroom. The bathrooms almost seemed haunted, all quiet except for the air conditioner. He would look back in the mirror and expect someone to grab his head and smash it into the mirror, or someone would grab him and throw him into the stall. Every Time, that wouldn’t happen and he would just go back to his office. When it came time to leave, he didn’t want to leave, in fear of something might get him. But, he had to get back home. The speaker to the whole bank came on, it was his boss again, “Once again, we’ll call you if we want you to come back to work.” and that was it.

He walked outside to his car, as he did, he would check both ways constantly. He would glance behind his shoulder, he would even look up sometimes. He got to his car and there was someone at it. He froze dead in his tracks, he had taken his gun out of his pants and hit it in a kitchen drawer. His bank had a no firearm policy, and that was just the natural thing for him to do. He slowly back up and took out his phone, the woman didn’t look right. She was leaning and hitting her shoulder off of the car. It looked like she was high on heroin. He stood there, looking all around him to see if there was no one else like that. After a few moments, she realized he was standing there, and preceded to come towards him. He unlocked his phone and pulled up the contacts list. He had saved the area hotline number on his phone and called it. There was a woman on the other end, “Are you reporting an infection?” She sounded genuinely concerned, “Yes, there’s this woman by my car who’s not right, I’m at the Bank of America, northside branch. She’s slowly coming towards me. What should I do?”

“Do not approach her, find a safe space to stay while authorities arrive. I have to let you go, I have other calls. The officers have your location and are on their way. Okay?”

“Okay, I understand” and with that, the call ended. His heart was still racing, and the woman was no more than ten yards away. She looked around and started to back up. He had a plan, he would get in his car and wait there, he would just lure her past two cars and then go around the cars. When he thought his plan would work, that’s when he initiated it. He lead the woman towards the second car next to his, and ran around it. He made it to his car and unlocked it, by this time, the woman was slowly turning around and making her way towards him again. He sat in his car and watched her approach it. He tried to shoo her away, but she wouldn’t budge. She hit her head and shoulders off the edge of the car door opening and the window. Only causing mild hits, nothing that would even damage the car. He watched her, her eyes looked like frosted glass, and her skin had blue and purple spots all over it. It took about fifteen minutes for the responders to arrive. They rushed over and pushed her to the ground. He thought that was excessive but didn’t say anything. The group of two men and a woman dragged her to a humvee looking vehicle and put her in it. The one man and woman walked back over to him and asked him some questions, such as, ”did she bit you or have any contact with you at all.” he answered “no” to both. They asked is this was the first time Houston had seen such a thing, and he said “yes”. They finished their business and left. He then got in his car and left too. It was almost dark but not quite. On his drive home, the emergency responder lights were much more pronounced, since it was almost dark. This left a sickening feeling in his stomach. He didn’t see much around his neighborhood, and pulled into his car into the garage. He got out and checked around, to see if anything had made it’s way in. There was nothing, he went into his house and did the same thing. All the doors and all the windows were the same as he left them. He put his stuff down, and walked over to the kitchen drawer where his gun and ammo was. He put the gun towards the rights pocket this time, and the ammo in the left pocket. He didn’t feel like eating, so he called his ex..ring ring and then a answer, which was a welcomed change “Hey Houston, is something wrong?”

“No, I was just wondering if you were coming over again tonight?”

“I think I will, I just have to grab an extra uniform from my locker..” There was a pause, “Do you have any of my clothes left?” Houston thought about it and knew there were some in the upstairs closet. “Yeah, there are some in the upstairs closet, though, I don’t know what they are.”

“Alright, I might be late, do you keep the key under the rock still?”

“Yeah”

“Okay, see you.”

“Same” He wanted to say ‘love you’ but thought it would be inappropriate. He then tried to call his brother, again. The same thing as yesterday came up, the robotic voice answering machine. He left a message, saying that this was Houston calling again, and so forth. He hung up, and was on the verge of tears, there was a aching pain in his chest. It wouldn’t go away, but he had to call his parents. He called them, and his mother picked up, “Any news on your brother?”

“No, I left another message” Then there was a long pause, and she asked how he was doing, “Doing the same as yesterday, mom. I went into work, and did what I could” She let out a surprised “Huh” and they proceeded to talk about that. After that, he asked her how things were going on there end and she replied with, “They’re goin’ “ which means nothing new and or alright. She then gave the phone to her husband, and Houston hand his father talked about the same things as yesterday. After a few minutes of talking, they parted ways with a “I love you dad/son” and hung up. He thought of no use to stay up any longer, all the entrances and possible entrances were locked and secured. He went back to sleep on the couch, so that his ex could have the bed.

 

[Sir Swigglesworth]

Week One...​

The day started normally as any other would, the only thing now disturbing the peace was the panic that still held a vice like grip on the people of the city. The military had calmed down the crowds, quarantines were set up and stores were allowed open once more. Though state related buildings were still shut down as long as most other places, even the gym was closed for once. People lined up in the streets for military rations considering stores were cleared out by a number of panicked individuals while elsewhere people who were in the quarantine zone that were sick and people who were infected got separated with the latter being loaded on to buses and taken to god only knows where. Despite having calmed down, the city still ran wild with emergency vehicles speeding to and fro for varying reasons. Local police took on a supporting role along with the military, they were the ones primarily calming the crowds and responding to emergencies strewn about the city whereas the military took control of the area in and around their quarantine zones.

Red cross lead relief efforts within the quarantine zones, treating any of those who were sick and turning those infected over towards the military. Hospitals were being entirely overrun with the sudden spike in new admissions, both military and police forces held very high presence in these places; likely for reasons left unknown to the public. But as a whole, everything was getting settled down and there were sayings going around that by tomorrow the city would be returning to normal, with most buildings being re-opened minus those that were being secured and restricted by the military. This was the large intake of news that Jackson had heard once waking up earlier this morning, “Well...as long as things are getting settled fairly well. But how bad are the quarantine zones though?” Jackson thought to himself as they sauntered around their apartment, their day fairly uneventful so far. They had checked their email and responded to his worried friends and family, consoling them and assuring them everything was fine by now. Jackson still had today off since most places were closed, so nothing too attention worthy really happened. He had also called the police earlier that morning and instead of police arriving to his dorm 2 soldiers had, with one scientist looking individual. Jackson had remembered the entire confrontation in full detail.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK...were the only three signs that the authorities Jackson had called gave to alert their presence when they arrived to his dorm room. Acting in quick response, the young man sauntered on towards their door and opened it widely to greet the people he had called. Though his eyebrows did shoot up in slight confusion when his eyes caught sight of 2 soldiers and a scientist instead of just police. “Hello Mr. Rider,” the first soldier had said in a calm but oddly booming tone, "I’m Cpl. Margrave and these two are PFC Donahue and Specialist Brookers, one of our scientists.” Jackson gave the three a warming smile and opened the door even wider, “Come on in, I’m guessing this will be a while yeah?” he had asked in a curious but also calm and collected tone as the two men and one woman all walked into his dorm room. “2 soldiers...and a scientist. Why not just typical police?” Jackson thought curiously as he pulled out chairs for the three to take a seat in. Then, as everyone had settled down, Cpl Margrave locked their gaze onto Jackson and began speaking in a calm but serious tone. “So Mr. Rider, can you ex-” Their words were cut off by Jackson’s. “Please, just call me Jackson.” He had said with a small smile. “Alright Jackson,” Margrave seemed a bit rough about using the man’s first name in this situation but carried on anyways. “Can you explain to us the confrontation you were in yesterday?” The Cpl had asked, and so Jackson, with his calm smile answered as expected. “Of course, I’ll just start at the beginning yeah? Well my day started off on quite the odd note, ya see, my friend Amy from Virginia called me in the morning and was entirely freaking right the hell out. She was blubbering something about the virus hitting American coasts and how the major cities are in chaos yada yada. Apparently while I slept in, there was a government announcement that the virus had hit our coasts and some places went into full on panic.” Jackson cut off his talking for a quick moment to take a sip of their water and then turned to the trio that sat in front of him, “You guys want anything to drink?” He had asked, and after his asking, the PFC raised their hand just slightly to say, “Water is fine for me thank you.” So Jackson made their way towards the fridge and produced a cold, fresh, water bottle for PFC Donahue. As the young man headed back towards the trio and handed the PFC their drink, he sat back down and continued their little account. “So yeah, Amy was freaking out but I calmed her down a bit and convinced her there was nothing to worry about for the time being. So after that I looked at the news to get the rundown on what’s really goin on and man, it is NOT pretty. But with that being done and out of the way, despite the warning that you’re “Recommended to stay indoors” and that sort of thing, I wanted to go for a quick run.”

Pausing slightly, Jackson gazed out the window quickly and snapped back to what he was doing before. “So I left go on my run, this time packing my M1911 as a just in case since everyone was so on edge and scared after the announcement. Then, as I was passing the medical tech building on campus I heard what sounded like someone’s dying screams.” Through PFC Donahue’s perspective, all that was seen is their pencil scribbling down onto the notepad in their hands, taking down the important details of Jackson’s story. Once her eyes looked back up to face Jackson, she had a thought pass through her mind. “Why is he so calm about this? I wonder what Margrave and Brookers are thinking right now. Will Mr. Rider snatch a guess that the virus is what caused what he saw yesterday? Please lord I hope not….” But her hand continued writing down the important details of their account. “As I made my way into the alley. I saw this guy, he was crouched down over a person that I later found out to be a girl from campus. I called out to them to ask if they were ok. But once they turned around, oh hohoho MAN, he was far from ok. Sickly pale skin, glassy eyes, I swear he looked they were a dead man walking. What made it worse that I had realized he was EATING the girl, yeah his shirt was soaked in her blood, even had chunks of meat stuck in his teeth. I thought they had to have been on drugs or something like that, or well I thought. So after seeing that I warned him to stay back as I called the police. Well, I tried to call them at least, the phone lines were full. Apparently a massive clusterfuck was happening yesterday. So I hung up and saw the guy was walking, scrap that, SHAMBLING towards me. I drew my pistol and aimed it at the man to threaten them and warned him to back off again. He kept on coming and once I warned him one final time the bastard lunged at me, trying to grab me. The split second he lunged, I fired a round and hit him directly in the heart. That’s a kill shot, both you and I know it. But this guy didn’t drop, he didn’t even look like it bothered him. So they grabbed onto me and tried bite me, with savage snapping teeth. Only thing holding them back was my elbow at their throat. But after a few seconds of struggling, I managed to sweep his legs and sent them falling back. Then once he got back, I still warned them to back off. He didn’t and came back at me, so I shot him in the skull. Yeah that finally killed him. What the hell makes it to where a guy can take a .45 ACP to the heart and live? Well...if he was even actually fucking alive, that’s where this next bit comes in.”

The trio of soldiers and scientist all looked to one another, their eyes a bit widened at Jackson’s previous comment. Having stopped writing once they did, PFC Donahue sent a gaze to Margrave with a look that screamed she thought Rider knew something. Margrave simply responded with a nod and a glance to Brookers. Jack, obviously having saw this quick interaction thought to himself, “Hmmm, that’s odd. Why did they just do that?” Then began continuing with his account. “Anyways, after I killed the guy, I made my way over to check out the girl and see if she even had the slightest pulse, despite the better part of me screaming that there was no way she could. Which was right, she was as dead as Hitler. But here’s the odd part, when I was leaning against the wall processing what had just happened. Sally saggy tits,” His comment was cut off by a slight chuckle from both Donahue and Brookers. “Decided to rise back to the land of the living and try to attack me like splatter brains from before did. I was shocked, scared, and confused. There is not a single doubt in my mind that that girl was dead. Dead as dead could be, her neck was entirely torn to shreds. But anyways, once she lunged at me I shot her in the skull, ran home since I couldn’t contact the police, and sent a worried email to my friends and family. That’s about it, that’s what happened”

The three all looked to one another before Brookers spoke up, “Yes uhhhhh, Mr. R-er Jackson, we’re going to have to ask you if you can strip for a moment. We know you weren’t bit but we still need to search you for scratches, as that is also a method of how this virus spreads.” Jackson turned to the scientist and nodded then began stripping, but as he did so he also of course ran his mouth. “So Doc, can I ask you something? What the fuck is going on with this virus yeah? I’m pretty sketched out that yesterday considering I literally watched a girl rise from the dead and shot a man in the heart without him dying. No drug can do that for damn sure, so I want an honest answer if you can give me one. This Africanized Rabies or as you are all calling it, it doesn’t just kill its victims does it?” Stunned, the doc looked to Jackson almost entirely forgetting what they were about to do. Both Margrave and Donahue we’re also in blinking awe, “SHIT, HE’S FUCKING ONTO IT!!” PFC Donahue had thought the immediate second Jackson mentioned the virus and people being brought back from the dead. “I...I...I uhhhh...We-” The doctor was cut of by Cpl. Margrave’s stern words. “We’re not at any liberty to say Mr. Rider. I suggest you keep your thoughts and assumptions to yourself for personal safety.” Jackson shot a quite unamused look to the Cpl while Donahue in her own world wrote down the final details onto her notepad, the looks of which are shown below.

• Individual stands at 5' 11''
• Has heterochromic eyes, one green the other blue
• Age: 23
• Mr. Rider has very worried friends and family in the states
• Seems to not be worried at first about the general panic caused by the announcement from yesterday
• Subject is in extremely fit condition, outgoing, hospitable, makes subtle jokes to lighten mood, charismatic
• Subject left for a run around college campus despite govt warning to stay indoors, though they did leave armed
• Encounter first began with Mr. Rider hearing someone’s dying screams
• Once approaching the scene, subject noticed the original infected crouched over deceased victim
• Mr. Rider attempted to contact authorities, to no avail
• By then, infected individual had begun approaching Mr. Rider
• Mr. Rider warned individual to stay back numerous times, originally thinking they were on drugs
• As the infected closed in towards Mr. Rider, they drew their pistol in attempt to warn the infected to stay back
• Infected, as expected, did not back off and attempted to attack Mr. Rider
• Mr. Rider first shot the individual in the heart, which under normal circumstances WOULD have killed them instantly
• Mr. Rider states that afterwards the man continued to attack them, acting as if the round had not a single effect on them
• Subject states that infected individual attempted to bite them with savage, snapping teeth
• After a short scuffle, Mr. Rider threw the individual to the ground
• As the individual rose back up to the ground, Mr. Rider gave one last warning
• When the individual did not comply, Mr. Rider then shot them in the skull, eliminating the threat.
• Mr. Rider then examined the individual’s victim, being revealed as a young woman
• Victim had a severely shredded, torn, and by Mr. Rider’s words, eaten neck. Victim was by no means alive
• Mr. Rider posted themselves against a wall to process what had happened just then
• Suddenly, in Mr. Riders words “Sally saggy tits, decided to rise back to the land of the living and try to attack me like splatter brains from before did.”
• Subject then killed the newly revived victim (I worry he may be getting curious of the virus)
• Mr. Rider then left the scene and made their way home where afterwards they sent a concerned email to friends and family
• Subject then also continued attempting to call the police, which led to us coming here to question them
• End of subject's story
• Brookers asked Mr. Rider to strip so they could examine them for scratches
• We’re all shocked, Mr. Rider just asked about the virus
• “So Doc, can I ask you something? What the fuck is going on with this virus yeah? I’m pretty sketched out that yesterday I literally watched a girl rise from the dead and shot a man in the heart without him dying. No drug can do that for damn sure, so I want an honest answer if you can give me one. This Africanized Rabies or as you are all calling it, it doesn’t just kill its victims does it?”
• Subject is with no doubt, suspicious of the virus and its actual properties
• Brookers is in a stuttered state, has no idea on how to answer
• Margrave stepped in and recommended Mr. Rider keep thoughts and opinions to themselves for personal safety

This is not good, if Mr. Rider spreads word of what is happening, more people will catch onto the virus and panic will ensue again.


As Jackson finished stripping all but their drawers, Specialist Brookers then moved in to complete the body examination. After only about 2 or so minutes, there were no signs of scratches or infection found in Jackson’s person. Meanwhile, before when Brookers was examining Mr. Rider, both the PFC and the Cpl talked in a corner with a cautioned and hushed tone. “Ok, something’s not right. Those two over there look like they're freaking out…” Jackson thought to himself as Brookers examined them. Then once the examination was over and the doctor dismissed the young man to put their clothes back on, he did. After a few minutes of peculiar silence passed by, the three approached Jackson once more, with Margrave in front as earlier. “Well Mr. Rider, er..Jackson. We were glad you could explain to us your encounter yesterday. Take it easy yeah? Relax, I assure you the military has everything under control.” The tall man had said in his typical calm but proud voice. But there was something in their look that told Jackson otherwise, that doubt was also solidified by PFC Donahue’s nervous stature. Reading people was never something Jackson could do the best, but he was certainly keen on a few key things, and Miss Donahue’s composure explained quite well to him that something was bugging her. As Jackson dismissed the crew with a soft smile and a thankful little, “No problem Corporal, glad to help any time. You as well Miss Donahue, also you Mr. Brookers. Glad I was able to assist in any way.” as they all exited his dorm. Once Brookers was the final one to leave his dorm Jackson smiled and said goodbye once more and then shut his door in front of them. After that...Jackson’s day nonetheless the entire week for that matter was quite uneventful after the first day.

Day passed as day passed, Jackson returned to school and his job after all the buildings had opened up once more. But there was always something that held his concern, and they never let it fade away. As the week progressed, he had in some aspect prepared for the worst. A little bit of food being bought here, some more ammo for his M1911 there, but nothing too drastic. “Just a little something something for in case I would say.” Was the main thought that crossed through his mind the entire week. After the first two days, everything had been returned to a mainly normal state minus the heavy police and military activity around the quarantine zones, hospitals, and their constant calls around the city. Despite all the “normality” that things seemed to hold, there was still something going wrong and Jackson knew it. He had, later in the week, got a few concerned calls from local friends who said they had seen and reported infected individuals over to the authorities. All Jack could tell them was that they had done a good job, the only encounters he had were on the one day that will stain a lasting memory into their mind. But who knows what else lurks in the future, time will eventually tell as the weeks passed...

 

[Safton]

Jonah rubbed his temples, doing his best to tune out the mind-numbing noise of shouts and chatter that filled the store, along with the nigh-constant blip of items being scanned and rung up. The cashiers and baggers looked every bit as disheveled as many of the customers: uniforms wrinkled, bags under their eyes. None of the usual pleasantries were exchanged as each customer approached.

The desperate masses didn't seem to care. They were too busy snapping up any and every item they felt they might need in whatever the next few weeks brought: everything from food and water to batteries and toilet paper. This was the last store Jonah planned to visit for the day. He had woken up early that morning after cleaning up the damage that the thief had left behind in his or her single-minded gun heist.

After taking stock of what supplies he kept on-hand, Decker realized he was uncomfortably low on several essentials. His father would have been disappointed in his lack of readiness. Practical though he was, Jonah had never been one to spend much time "prepping". A lot of his buddies from the Corps had gone to great lengths after they got out, building panic rooms and setting up "Bug-Out Bags". For some, it was a hobby. For others, a potential lifeline.

Jonah realized now that they may have had a point.

He had left the house early, hoping to beat the rush and make stops at several places: the hardware store, a local gun shop, and finally the supermarket. That had been nearly ten hours ago. The hardware store had enough of the basics for him to make do, but the gun shop had been a total bust. They'd been all but cleaned out and ended up forcing the would-be customers out before rolling down the shutters.

The supermarket, however, was nothing short of a madhouse. Jonah had never been crazy enough to give Black Friday shopping a try, but what he had seen in the supermarket seemed worse than the most morbid tales he'd heard. Decker had seen brawls over a few cans of tomato soup. Two women -- one barely in her twenties, the other wrinkled and gray -- locked into a tug-of-war over baby formula. The store's staff were hopelessly overwhelmed and the county police had been frequently in and out of the establishment, breaking up fistfights and hauling a few shoplifters away. With time, however, their visits became more infrequent before seemingly stopping altogether.

The sound of a very pointed throat-clearing snapped Decker from his reverie and he looked up to see that the line had finally moved forward. He made it to the register, muttering a greeting to the bleary-eyed cashier -- a teenager who looked be fresh out of high school. The boy said nothing, ringing up each of the items in a mechanical, robotic fashion. Jonah paid and left, desperate to get back home.

Jonah was making his way to his pickup through the parking lot when a high-pitched yell brought his head snapping around. In the adjacent row, a middle-aged woman was furiously attempting to hold onto a bag of groceries as a young man -- face obscured by a hood -- attempted to pull them from her arms. All the while, a toddler huddled at the rear of the minivan and screeched, tears running down his face.

Without a second thought, Decker jogged over, sliding between two sedans to approach. "What the hell are you doin'?" he shouted, his Southern drawl leaking through as it always did under stress.

Neither of the two so much as acknowledged him. "Give me the bag, bitch!" The man hissed, raising his free hand and bringing it backwards across the woman's face. The sound of flesh-on-flesh was audible even over the toddler's screams, which only grew louder at the sight. The mother yelped in shock, falling backward against the van's lift gate.

Jonah was moving before he knew it, seizing the thief by the collar, fists curled in the fabric of his hoodie. The man was small-framed even by normal standards; Decker seemed to tower over him. He dropped his newly-claimed prize in the ensuing struggle before Jonah tossed him roughly to the asphalt. The man landed flat on his back with a grunt.

He looked up at the former Marine with wide eyes, scrambling to his feet, hand going for his pocket. It came out with a pocketknife, flicking the blade out with an audible click. Without hesitation, Jonah lifted the hem of his shirt to draw his own, much larger blade from its scabbard on his belt, gripping the handle tightly in the sweaty palm of his right hand.

Fixing the would-be thief with a challenging glare, he muttered, "I need you to make a real smart play here, bud. You walk away, or else one or both of us is gonna get cut up real bad over a goddamn box of cereal."

Looking at the size of the fighting-knife in the larger man's grip, the looter turned on his heel and dashed behind a row of cars, ducking out of sight. Jonah let out a breath of air he didn't know he'd been holding, returning the blade to its scabbard. He turned toward the woman, still crouched at the rear of the van with wide eyes.

"You all right, ma'am?" he said, reaching out to her. She balked at his outstretched arm and he withdrew it immediately. "I'm not gonna hurt you. You want me to call 911 for you?"

"No, no. I just... I need to get home right now," she said frantically, standing up and taking the toddler in her arms. She cautiously reached down to reclaim the fallen bag from the confrontation, keeping one eye on Jonah the entire time. She never said another word as she hastily strapped her child into his harness, jumping into the minivan and peeling out of the parking lot.

Jonah shook his head, turning back toward his truck.

***​

After arriving back at the house, the sun already hanging low in the early evening sky, Decker immediately went to work putting the perishables away and making some modest reinforcements to the house with the small selection of timber he had managed to pick up at the hardware store. It was nothing elaborate -- a few 2x4s nailed into place across the windows, provisions for a drop-bar across the front door. He wasn't sure if he had more to fear from the Africanized Rabies or the looters after what he'd seen at the store... but he wasn't intent on taking unnecessary risks in the meantime.

After finishing up, he noted that the answering machine was displaying a missed call and voicemail. Frowning, he pressed Play.

"This is a United States Marine Corps Forces Reserve readiness call for Sergeant Jonah Alan Decker. In light of recent events, your status within the Individual Ready Reserve makes you eligible for reactivation and continued military service. You will be receiving orders regarding your new duty station in the next 72 hours. This call-up will be mandatory, under penalty of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. If you have pressing personal health or family issues which prevent travel, you are required to contact the following num--"

Jonah stopped the recording, a chill running down his body. He'd done his time on Active Duty and the Reserves... but even as a civilian the terms of his contract held him over for an additional period where he was eligible to be recalled if a period of war or national emergency broke out.

He rubbed an exasperated hand down his face, pushing the thoughts aside. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it. While the news he'd heard on the ride back to the house hadn't sounded promising -- Hartsfield-Jackson Airport shut down, international borders closed, the National Guard activated -- it wasn't all bad. More than a few experts and news anchors had referenced a rabies vaccine that was to hit the shelves soon. With any luck, that would take the edge off the chaos and nip this panic in the bud.

Standing by the phone, Jonah sighed. He'd been avoiding the task of calling his brothers to check in on them, but he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. Picking up the receiver, he dialed his older sibling Rich first. The phone rang and rang with no response and Jonah was about to give it up when the line opened.

"'Ello?"

"Rich? Hey man, it's Jonah."

A brief silence. "Hey little brother. Been a while."

Jonah frowned. Rich's voice was slurred and he knew the cause. Ever since his wife had left him and taken their young son with her, he'd been an unrepentant alcoholic. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just wanted to call in touch base, see how things are back home."

"Fine."

Jonah cleared his throat. "No riots or outbreaks up there?"

"No. You know how it is up here, Jonah. Nothing much happens while the rest of the world just passes us by." He was ranting now, the slur all the more prominent.

"Listen, Rich... I'm sorry about Maria. I know I wasn't around when the two of you..."

The man was quick to cut him off. "Hey, uh, I gotta go. I'll, uh, call you later. Take care, little brother." The line clicked dead before Jonah could so much as respond. He shook his head, dialing for Brent next.

"We're sorry, but we are experiencing a large influx of calls for inmates within Georgia State correctional facilities. Telephone communication is unavailable. Due to CDC quarantine guidelines we are not permitting standard visitation appointments by family or friends at this time. If you--"

Jonah hung up, half-relieved. He knew he didn't have much to worry about. Brent had managed to survive two years already at Georgia State Prison alongside murderers and armed robbers... ironically it was probably one of the safest places to be if these outbreaks got any worse. Ian, the youngest of the bunch, was his last call.

The line connected on the second ring. "Hey Jonah. Been meaning to call you."

"Hey little bro. Just wanted to check in. You still in Atlanta?"

"Yeah. They canceled classes, though. Sending a lot of students home."

"You're not thinking about staying at your apartment in Midtown?" Jonah asked insistently.

"Well, yeah..."

"Ian, I saw what Atlanta's like. The place is a war zone. Why don't you come stay with me until this all blows over? Hell, I'll come pick you u--"

"Jonah, stop. It's fine. Seriously. I know you feel the need to play the good big brother and make up for lost time or whatever, but I can take care of myself now."

"Goddamnit, Ian, that's not what this is about and you know it."

"Whatever you say, Jonah. I need to get going. I'm meeting some friends. Stay safe."

"Ian!" the line clicked, eliciting another curse from Jonah as he slammed the receiver down.

 

[DemetrioMachete]

Merlin and Jack spent the next couple of days huddled up in the penthouse. The boxer was notified that his Fight Contract signing was cancelled until further notice. Jack also discouraged him from going downstairs to the gym, so his exercise and training regimen was limited to push-ups and punching a dummy. When he wasn't coaching, Jack was monitoring the news and updating his Twitter feed. What ever was happening only seemed to get worse, from what he saw. But when he looked out the window to peaceful little Battle Creek, he saw no such riots. He almost wouldn't believe the bigger cities were falling apart had it not been for the constant stream of videos showing all the horrors.

"Man, I feel like none of them fools listened to me," Merlin complained, as he took a drink of water. "They still fighting?"

"Playa you know they still fightin'. They ain't no calming down a panicked animal. Much less a whole group of em." Jack replied, putting his phone down to focus on the news. Nothing about Battle Creek, just New York, Charlotte, Miami, all the big places.

"Shit, you think I should try and say something else, now?" Merlin asked, wiping off his sweat with a towel. "Not another video, but like, a statement?"

"Wouldn't hurt a bit."

As soon as he had a moment, Merlin would post a statement on his own Twitter, Jack being among the first to retweet it. It read as follows

"When y'all grow up and stop behaving like animals, come down to Battle Creek. Real quiet here." Followed by a picture of the city below.

Food was quick to arrive. Merlin's diet involved a lot of protein to keep his muscles fed. Today's lunch was Sirloin and steamed vegetables. Merlin scarfed it down within a few minutes, Jack simply subsiding on a turkey sandwich and Kit Kat bar.

"They ain't nothing left to do but wait, Playa." Jack told Merlin, pointing to the TV. "Nothin to do but wait. Wait for it to blow over."

 

[Crono]

Three hours later

The partially unpacked apartment in Chicago was a welcomed sight to Ethan, with Danny and Robert in tow. The girl keeping an eye on her twin who's head injury wasn't serious but Rob was still holding pressure to his bleeding wound. The twins tiredly plopped down on the small couch whilst Ethan went to the windows connected to the fire escape to make sure that he hadn't left them unlocked.

A few boxes were strewn about but mostly the place looked empty and clean except for the few pieces of furniture he'd managed to acquire. Ethan had been busy the last two weeks so he hadn't had time to unpack for the most part, not that he had a whole lot to unpack to begin with. Afterwards he went to the small kitchen to pour two cups of water for them.

Ethan paused in the entryway to the kitchen, staring at his siblings who had their back to him whilst on the couch. They were leaning on each other, speaking softly and for the moment he couldn't bring himself to interrupt. They'd only been three when he'd taken off, four when he ended up in jail for the twelve year sentence. They were his family but he didn't really know them, not really, he hadn't been there to see them grow up. Their Aunt had brought them for a few visits in jail when they were younger teenagers, when the pair had decided they wanted to see Ethan, but his parents hadn't wanted to bring them.

"Hey." He'd finally spoken up, nearing the couch and clearing his throat whilst maneuvering around the couch to hand them their cups. Ethan stood closer to Rob and coaxed the teenager to take the rag from his wound so he could look, "Let me have a look." Robert hesitated but did, the wound was matted with hair and dark blood. Ethan sighed at the sight, "We'll need to get that cleaned up."

"I've got it." Danny said quickly and interrupting Ethan, setting her glass down on the floor since there was no coffee table. "And then we'll see if you need stitches or not." This caused Robert to groan, and Danny pulled gently at his arm as she stood to get him to follow. Ethan pointed to the nearby doorway to the hall where the Bathroom was located, "Then we have to talk about a cover for where you guys stayed through all this."

Danny spun around abruptly with a scow, "Why the hell do we have to have a cover? We can leave right now if you don't want us here Ethan." In return Ethan threw his hands up defensively from his seat on the couch, "When this is all over you might have to explain where you were Dan. And legally you aren't supposed to be here....I just don't want the case to get thrown out. You know I want you here."

The answer didn't seem to do much as she angrily tugged Robert along, their brother didn't seem particularly bothered. Ethan sunk back onto the brown couch letting out a deep breath, the sounds of sirens, things breaking, and yelling coming from the streets below in the quiet. Ethan flipped on the TV going straight for the news coverage.

"Rabies my ass." Ethan muttered, turning the volume up.

-----

Two and a half hours ago Ethan had finally found the alleyway that Danny and Robert were hiding in, someone was lying lifeless on the ground as Danny clutched to him in tears. The girl was mumbling out apologies for killing him and Ethan had held her tighter in a moment of fear of what it meant could happen if people found out despite the chaos and riots. Ethan was still thinking about the future when this was all over, which he suspected would be a few days.

Robert was crouched near the body as Ethan moved closer carefully with Danny still hugging onto the larger man. When the man suddenly started moving it was nearly slow motion, a series of emotions went through Ethan until he could see the lifeless eyes and Robert stumbling away in fear. This was how the three of them would learn of the dead coming back to life, in a dark alleyway with a corpse that Danny had created.

They'd run, straight to Ethan's truck and left. Only speaking the smallest of disbelief before going quiet on the rather fearful trip back to the older brother's apartment.​

 

[NanLia]

Week Two

World News

CNN
​

"The Israel Ambassador shocked the UN General Assembly today by announcing Israel's voluntary quarantine. In light of the virus traveling swiftly across the globe they state they have procedures in place to not only protect their borders but have also offered asylum, no questions asked, to any foreign born Jew, any foreigner of Israeli-born parents and any Palestinians currently residing in any other countries or territories. This has caused a flood of refugees from all over Europe and Asia to flock to it's call."

Viral
​

"Video has been released today that shows what actually happened in Cape Town, South Africa." Video starts to play from footage that looks like street cameras set up at a large intersection in the main pair of down town Cape Town. To the south side of the video is a barricade of local law enforcement in full riot gear. From the north, east and west part of the intersection a large riot of people are running towards the barricades. The protesters rush at the barricade, and though there is no audio in this clip, it is clear whoever is in charge of the law enforcement is waving the protesters away.

With no end in sight of the stream of protesters, the law behind the barricade opens fire on them, sending many to the ground dead and those further back scattering through the streets, out of harm's way. The video rolls forward, sped up, time ticking away in the bottom right hand corner. Minutes fly by and soon enough those dead in the streets start to move, the video slows to normal pace once more as the first of the dead start to rise and shamble back towards the barricades, towards the streets where people still hid.

Once more the men behind the barricade open fire, decimating those within rage, but still the dead continue to rise, continue to move forward. There is a sudden flash and the video ends. "We have yet to determine the authenticity of this video, however reports from around the globe are saying that the dead are rising and turning on those surviving."

US News
​

"Key members of congress have accnounced today their unanimous approval of the vaccine 'Phalanx'. The company Breckenridge run and operated by CEO and President Breck Scott says that they have been preparing stock int he event of congresses approval and will start shipping later this week. 'Phalanx' should be available in pharmacies early next week."

​

"The President has declared Martial Law across the nation; all non-military, non-emergency flights have been canceled. Once more citizens are advised to remain int heir homes and report any illness or strange behavior to the local authorities. The following cities have been banned for travel due to quarantine: Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Jacksonville, Atlanta, New Orleans, Miami, Chicago and San Diego."

"In other news in Chicago local law enforcement and deployed military have already started evacuating the residents of the surrounding suburbs; and residents down and around the center core of the city are being sequestered into quarantine zones. Once cleared they will be sent to near by cities that are prepared for the refugees resettlement."


St. Boethius Crono Safton Sir Swigglesworth Jackstack DemetrioMachete

 

[NanLia]

Ginny was surprised how quickly life turned back to relative normalcy, it seemed like the rest of the world was going crazy, tearing each other apart, but life in McCone County plodded on virtually unaffected. She had heard of some of the people living in town taking off, abandoning jobs and homes alike to seek shelter from the coming plague. Others simply disappeared: no money taken from bank accounts, nothing packed from their homes; just gone in the night. It was assumed they had up and left like the others, panic stricken they fled, but it left Ginny feeling cold that people could so quickly abandon everything. She could never imagine doing that herself; she had too much riding on her land and far too many memories to give up.

The kids had returned to school, while the US Government had declared martial law across the country, McCone heeded its warnings, but with a population less than 2,000 it just wasn’t possible. Three quarters of the population either owned or worked on a farm, and having kids home all day while working the land could not be done. Not to mention, many of those that had fled the town were care takers and teachers. In all only around fifty students has returned to the school, not enough to fill any one single class room, the remaining faculty simply amalgamated the class into the gymnasium. They took precautions to prevent the children from being infected: the kids wore gloves and masks all day, ate only their own home made meals and were carefully supervised. No one in the country, that remained at least, believed the Cape Town street camera footage had any merit. Ginny personally believed it was just another media scare tactic released by god knows who just to make news. Jest people preying on the weak.

Ginny had watched the video the first time in horror alone, thankfully. She had started recording the six o’clock news in her bedroom PVR and banned the news channels from the other T.V’s around the house, just to try and keep the kids less exposed to whatever was happening around the world and within their own country. She had sat at the edge of her bed in shock and awe as she watched the muted T.V. display the panicked people streaming towards the blockade, running from something unseen in the darkness. She had gasped and needed to look away as she watched the flashes from the guns open fire on their own people. But when the people started rising again from the ground, now seemingly impervious to gun fire, she knew it was a hoax, and she was angry she had believed the first part of the video.

She was thankful that Marta had returned to work, her son fully recovered. That poor boy was prone to bronchitis each and every time he got a cold. There was just nothing any of the doctors could do for him, only wait it out and make him safe and comfortable until it passed. Ginny was happy that the boy was better, and that her best friend was back in her life. She had needed someone to talk to, and the two women returned to normal life quickly. Both shared the same fears, that this virus would come here and then where would they be?

Around mid-week Katie had come to stay with her, her husband had been in Las Vegas on ‘business’ and was set to return by the end of the week. Of course when the epidemic started he left Vegas early with the intention of getting back to his family, but with no available flights out of Vegas he had rented a car to drive to St. George and fly from there. With the announcement of martial law and all flights canceled he was stuck. He had called Katie and old her to leave the farm house; she didn’t need to run things there and he would feel better if she were with her family. Her step-sons, Richard and Timothy, were less than thrilled at the idea, had even protested staying at their home alone, but Katie wouldn’t have it. Even though the woman was prone to wild fun, she knew when she needed to be a reasonably responsible adult. She had cracked a deal with the teenage boys; they didn’t have to go to school, but they did have to work, at least part time, on Ginny’s farm.

Now with two farm hands Ginny didn’t know what to do with she contacted her bordering neighbors. After the first incident with the bloodied bull she had found evidence, though far less, in the week since. Something was out in the fields and woods trying to take her cattle and it wasn’t giving up. After speaking to her neighbors, the Johnston’s dairy farmers (and who the bull calves in her herd were destined to), the McLain’s sheep farmers and the Stevens on the far end of the county where Ginny’s back border met theirs, their hobby farm produced the most amazing locally farmed goat milk products. Ginny soon found that she had been lucky with only near misses with her heard.

In the last week and a half the Johnston's had lost two cows and now only let their cattle roam during the day, barning them for the night, Stevens had lost seven in total and kept their herd restricted to the yard at all times, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was attacking them. McLain's had been hit the worst of the three, having lost nearly half his flock in a single night, the same night Ginny suspected her bull had killed whatever it was that had attacked her herd. It was decided then, amongst the four of them, that they would split the work and the cost to erect fences along the perimeters of each of their properties, they hoped it would at least slow whatever it was that had come to feast.

Ginny had been keeping tabs on the world and US events almost religiously, typically it would be rare to see her using her cell phone for anything other than texting of phoning her kids or family. However since the beginning of this epidemic she found herself almost constantly searching sights, news and conspiracy, for more information, or the latest updates. It had been a shock to hear that an entire country was declaring self-quarantine, news reports showing the walls being erected and it became very evident just how long the rest of the world had been suffering before the US had been hit. Evacuations had started in Chicago, apparently the city had been hit hard with outbreak and the news was reporting how the military was working with its citizens to try and stop the spread.

The best news to come from the past week was Phalanx. Finally Ginny felt like there would be a turn for the better for their nation, a vaccine that, while on the required dosing, they would be safe from harm and from contracting the virus. She had called the local pharmacy and was told that, while the product would be available, the likely hood of McCone seeing any in the short term was unlikely.

***​

One day, towards the end of the week, Ginny was driving her truck back in from the fields after a long day of helping her re-hired farm hands with mending the old fences and reinforcing them when she saw the local reserves milling about in her front yard. She pulled through the gates and jumped out of the truck, she was headed to Charlie to find out what was happening when a man she had never seen before stepped in the way.

“Misses Wallace?” He asked and she nodded slowly, “Good, we’ve been waiting for you, if you’d follow me please.” He turned and started walking towards her home. She gave Charlie a quick glance but he only shook his head; obviously he hadn’t a clue what was happening. Following the military man inside her own home she was lead into her front parlor; within were the owners of the only local farms, large and small, all looking just as tense as she felt.

“Please have a seat.” He said as he moved to the front of the room to turn and address them. “My name is Sergeant O’Donovan. I have been sent her by the US military to advise you your equipment, crops and all relevant assets are here by seized under the Redeker Plan, section 42, paragraph 13.” He raised his voice to speak over the farmers and growers now speaking at once, in complaint. “It is my duty to advise you of this and to offer you the option to follow your crops, equipment and assets west where they will be relocated and implemented. Once there you will be provided with lodging and safe care with the expectation you will continue to do as you do for the US military and government. Should you choose to accept this you will be provided with an approximate date when you will be transported to give you appropriate time to pack the belongings you own that are necessary. Should you decline this request you will have 48 hours to vacate your current properties.”

He turned, taking a stack of clipboards from behind him and starting to call out names. One of the other’s stood up and cleared his throat. “Well this is all fine and dandy, but do we not get to ask any questions?”

Sergeant O’Donovan paused, considering then nodded. “What are your concerns?”

“Why are we moving west?” Someone called from behind Ginny.

“Classified. Next?”

“Does this have to do with the virus? And the video from Cape Town?”

“Classified. Next?”

This continued on for some time as Sergeant O’Donovan handed out the clipboards, Ginny lost focus of what was being asked because the man’s answers were all the same. The first few pages of her clipboard were rolled up revealing the final page that had her name at the top, age and immediate family. Beneath was a blurb about signing over consent to her assets and becoming part of the functioning military, that she and anyone of age within her immediate family would receive basic training after relocating, should they not already have it. As well there was a guarantee that once the need for their services was done they would be returned and assisted in reclaiming their land and re-establishing their business to return to profitable margins. The bottom of the page had the typical space for a signature and date.

Others around her had either signed or discarded the board to leave, clearly opting for forfeiting, though she doubted anyone would give over willingly. Ginny loosened the clip at the top of the board and rolled down the folded paper, however she was not prepared for what she was about to read.

The first page was a details biography on her person. Beyond age and general, public, information, they had a medical history on her, and her parents, her education and her occupation; and hand written notes in the column, like people had been assessing her stock value.

• Medical History - A-1
• Fertility - A-2
• Education - D-4
• Occupation – A-1

Subject has no medical history of genetic disorders or hereditary illnesses. As well subject has no medical records that would indicate any form of mental illness that could cause duress in the coming years.
Subject has proven fertility with two surviving offspring and no records to indicate any life loss. As well subject has the potential for five more offspring before high-risk pregnancy would occur.
Subject does not have any college or university education. Nothing beyond the law mandatory education provided publicly, however subject’s SAT score (1470) would suggest the potential for continuing education if outside sources had not prevented this (teenage pregnancy, low-income lifestyle).
Subject’s occupation and proven field knowledge would be an asset to the coming need; even with competitors in the area the subject’s market history and product quality has only risen. Having the subject readily available to ascertain other stock would be an asset to the commonwealth.


At the bottom of the page is large dark print was the overall ranking: A-3.

Ginny set her clipboard down, people were still arguing, or trying to argue with the Sergeant. She glanced to the discarded clipboard beside her and noted the rank of B-2, with a frown. She leaned forward in her chair and looked over the shoulder of the man in front of her, his ranking D-1. She raised her hand, eyes turning up to Sergeant O’Donovan, and when he made eyes contact she spoke.

“To be clear,” She said quietly, and the men around her fell silent to listen. “We either sign this and go with the army wherever, retain her our assets, receive shelter for our families and when this whole thing is done, you will return me and mine here and help us rebuild?”

Sergeant O’Donovan paused, waiting for another comment but nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Ginny nodded, tapping her ranking, she wasn’t a fool and she read the notes, the last in particular meant they at least knew she would be an asset to them. “I want more than my family secured.” She said, watching him carefully. “If I go, willingly, you bring my farm hands and their families too.” She paused but continued quickly. “They know the herd and my ways; retraining others would take time and cost money I’m betting you don’t have.” She held her breath, waiting.

After a few long minutes of silence, and O’Donovan’s direct stare making her nervous the man finally nodded. “Yes ma’am. That can be done.”

***​

Ginny ultimately signed the contract and, after hours of waiting, became the owner of two other farmers herds in the area, both smaller breed dairy cows. The owners of those two farms had forfeited their rights to the land, or so she had been told, but she knew she didn’t need their land to tend to the herds. Once the Sergeant had left with the local reserves Ginny reached out to the farmers and their families making them her own offer. She came to terms with one of the families, his contract was far different from Ginny’s, there was no offer to help rebuild his business after the fact, no investment promise, only that of shelter.

By dusk that night the other family had joined Ginny, on her farm and their farmhands had chosen to join her as well. She had made a promise to the other farmer that when she was returned and reinstated she would help his family regain what they had lost.

***​

Ginny found herself sitting on the swing on her front porch. Kids, hers and Kaite's, were all in bed, as was her sister and the neighboring family all resting soundly. Ginny couldn't sleep, she looked down at her cell phone contemplating for along time before dialing.

The phone rang, over and over again until finally it was answered by a gruff voice. "Hullo?"

"Daddy?" There was silence on the other then, she thought, hoped he hadn't heard her. "Daddy, it's Gin." The line went dead. The world was turning to chaos around her, and here she hoped her parents would finally forgive her.

 

[DemetrioMachete]

Merlin's next week was quiet. Aside from his regular routine of exercise, dinner, then TV, he wasn't doing much else. Jack actually been leaving the room several times a day, and neglected to tell Merlin what was going on. Jack didn't look sick or anything, but he was still a 68 year old man, former boxing champion or not. If not Africanized Rabies.. What if he was going senile?

The following week, right at Sunday, Jack returned to the room at around 4:30 PM. There was a large smirk on his face. Merlin merely looked at him, bewildered.

"Playa, you been watching the news?"

"Either that or Family Guy, man. What you want?"

"Take a look at what I snagged for ya."

At this, Jack held out a small box in his hand. It was that Phalanx vaccine! This caught Merlin's attention, walking over and observing it.

"Didn't they just.. literally hit the shelves, old man? How in the hell did you get your hands on this?"

"Celebrity privelage may not apply to the airports, but it sure as hell gets you through the Pharmacy line, baby!" Jack let out a hearty, triumphant laugh, opening up the box, and readying the syringe.

"Now gimme your arm. This ain't no cure for the Rabies, it's a vaccine. Gotta take it now while you're healthy!"

Merlin shrugged, rolling up his sleeve and presenting Jack his arm. After tightening up the veins, Merlin got jabbed by the needle and pumped full of vaccine. He winced greatly, thinking a syringe hurt way worse than any punch he had ever taken.

"Now I suggest that y'all keep this whole secret of ours between us. Can't let people know you're vaccinated."

"Didn't you just say that you barged through the line at the Pharmacy and snatched this, though?"

"Naw, I had a cover story. Any one that asked, I was gettin you suppositories." Merlin rolled his eyes as Jack cackled, bandaging up the place where the needle stuck him.

"So I suggest you stick to that story, Merlin, unless ya want an angry mob barging through the hotel to get yo ass."

"Whatever, old man. Let's just keep an eye on the news..."

NanLia

 

[Jackstack]

Houston ​

In Pittsburgh, things went from bad to worse. Riots were now back on the rise, and any branch of the government trying to keep order was at it’s max. He became more vigilant than ever, and he started to carry his firearm on a regular basis. Home life was not much better, he had enough food for two weeks when the epidemic hit Pittsburgh. His supplies had dwindled to only a few old boxes of spaghetti and ketchup. He went out three times to get what the military and Red Cross were offering. The first two times he was able to get his ration, the third time they had ran out. The third time also proved to be his last time he would ever venture out to get his ration. The reason for this was, when they ran out, someone was murdered in cold blood, and none of the officers seemed to do anything. It was pure anarchy, and he feared for his life. With this in mind, he made the most of what he had. The rations he got were called “24 hour” MRE, and all of them were the same, taco salad with energy bar, cake, and a few other things. He cut out his lunch, had most of his meal for breakfast and the only a small portion for dinner. He had hoped this would last him till they were able to bring more meals in. Though, he had been waiting for a while, and today was going to be the last of his ration.



The news coming in was grim, and it left a sick feeling in his stomach. The big cities were done, and there was no hope of getting them back. As stated before, Pittsburgh was becoming like one of those cities. He tried to keep everything professional, if the bank called, he went. He thought that this might make him look like a loyal employee, and would come with benefits. But as the situation dragged on, he knew that the clock was ticking for this way of life. Today was going to be different though, this would be the last day of any kind of normality.



He woke up this morning in the bed this time. He and his ex-girlfriend had been sharing the house and agreed to also share the bed, by, one day she gets the bed, the other day he gets it. If he thought that she had a particularly rough night, he would just give her the bed. When she came to his house the night before, he knew that she might quit. He knew that she knew the end was near, and the police would have no control. He could see in her eyes that the whole thing was pointless, he could see the stress. He was glad that he didn’t have her job. So, this morning, she had already gone to the police station. The water in his house was now going off at random times, this made him keep buckets of it in his bathtub and sink. He did his normal routine, eat breakfast, get dressed, and watch the news for the remaining time. They didn’t call last night, so he wondered if he even had a job. Then the call came, usually, it was from a automated machine. His boss was the person to call him in, and by the tone of his voice, this wasn’t going to be a normal call. His boss spoke, “Houston, this will be the last time I call you in. I know you might have expected this, so I’ll just give it to you straight. It’s just going to be you and me in the bank today, everyone else got the notice that their services were no longer required. The reason why it’s just going to be you and I, we’re going to liquidate all the information. There are two incinerators in the basement of the bank, used for destroying sensitive material. We’re going to take things such as tax records, customer information, money transfers, and all the other sorts. We going to destroy it, this is a direct order from the government. They want no info to be left behind, though, we are going to do the best we can, until we feel the bank is no longer safe. There is something additionally I want to do, though, I’ll wait till you get here to tell you about that.”. Houston gave him an “Alright” and hung up the phone. Houston was scarred, life was dissolving before his eyes, and this was the final nail in the coffin. He didn’t even gather anything, he stuck his gun in his belt, and went to the bank as he was told.



The drive the bank was chaotic, every over block, there would be a ambulance or police cruiser parked sideways on the sidewalk, it’s rear end sticking out into the road. He would have to slow down and go around to get by it, hoping there wouldn’t be a car coming in the other lane. There were a few times where he would almost hit someone crossing the road, with luggage in their hands. The citizens of Pittsburgh were about to make a mass exodus. When he got onto the highway, going to work was fine, but he saw the outbound lanes, they were backed up all the way to downtown Pittsburgh. You could see small hatchbacks with that person’s belongings strapped to the roof, and the the hatch not being fully closed because of the stuff sticking out. Charter busses filled to the brim with people, some were sticking their heads out the window, trying to get fresh air, it went on and on. The street where his bank was situated was not as hectic, there were no homes or apartments, and only a few other buildings. He could see a few cars go buy, but that was about it. He parked as close as he could to the entrance to the bank, so he wouldn’t risk getting attacked again, or he that was his theory anyway. He saw his bosses huge Cadillac SUV sitting on the other side of the entrance. He knew his boss was here, but it was still a relief to see it. Before he exited his car, he looked both ways to see if anyone was near, but it was all clear. He opened the door and got out, though, he did this a slow motion. It was as if he didn’t want to wake his parents up after being out all night. He walked over to the bank entrance and found that it was locked, he pulled out his cell phone and started to dial, but he was then interrupted by his boss opening the door. His boss moved his hand back in a motion that indicated he wanted Houston to step in. When Houston walked in, his boss shut and locked the door behind him, “Okay, Houston, I don’t know how long this will take, but let’s go as fast as possible.” As they walked down the hall to the basement, his boss rambled on, seemingly trying to avoid the bigger topic, “I had the secretaries and other workers move the most sensitive stuff to the basement the first day the government gave the order for us to stay open. We’ll take care of that first, then, we’ll assess what’s left up stairs in the offices.” Houston then butted in, “I don’t think much is left, my office had nothing sensitive in it. I made a habit of putting that stuff in the secured room.”. Then then made it to the basement, after two flights of stairs. The door was already propped open by one paper box. They walked in and saw mountains of paperwork piled on each other. The most important papers being closest to the incinerators. His boss walked over to the incinerators, which were colored blue, and turned them on, by flipping a switch in the bottom back of the machine. There was a loud pop by one of them, and you could hear a loud, mini jet, noise coming from both of them. His boss walked back over to Houston, and made direct eye contact with him, “I’m going to start on this, now, this is the part I wanted to tell you about. There are already two duffel bags in the safety deposit box room. You probably know what I’m getting at.” He pulled out a long, and complex master key from his back pocket. He then gave it to Houston, “By the government orders, we are to collect all precious metals, that means jewelry, silver and gold coins, ingots of those metals, gems, and the like. Now, I don’t see how the government can enforce us to give those things to them, so, if you want them, they’re yours.” Houston had a conflicting look on his face, “What about you, I mean, wouldn’t you want a share.” His boss, not deviating from his mission esque look, said, “I think in the coming days, that stuff will be worthless, and will only get you killed. I would just prefer to keep them there, if it were me.” Then there was a pause, like he was debating something, “I called you out here just in case this epidemic were to blow over, so you would have a job in the future. But, that’s going against my core gut feeling, and I think you know that as well. That’s the reason why I’m here, so I might possibly have a job, when this ends. So, I was questioning whether or not to tell you this, but I think it would be immoral is I didn’t. There’s no reason for you to bere here. The security cameras are off, well, there is no security but the locked doors, anyway, there would be no way to tell whether you were here or not. I’m a man of principle, I think you know that, or that’s what I want to believe. You just being here means a lot. If you want to leave, get out of town, by all means, do. I will vouch for you when, or most likely if, the time comes to rehire you. I’m going to stay and burn the most sensitive.” Then there was a pause, and Houston had to think. Either leave, or stay and help the man. “Boss, I’m staying, but agree to this, I know you seem conflicted about emptying the safety deposit boxes. But we don’t have to take everything. I know for a fact that there are four boxes down there which are unclaimed, the owners must have died, and there were no calls about them. I was informed that they were soon to be dealt with, since all of their contents are reaching the five year limit. Lets just open those and see what we find. I know there are two bottles of 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild in one of them.” His boss gave a smile, “Just need a reason to stay, eh?”, and Houston smiled back, “Sure”. And they went to work on the papers. The smell was the worst thing you could imagine, it was a combination of rubber and crap. Both his boss and he had to exit to room for short periods of time to breath. Empty boxes were thrown in a pile near the far corner of the room. About halfway through the pile, one of the incinerators gave out, giving a final pop before quitting. His boss just looked at him and said, “Okay, you hand me the papers and I’ll put them in the working one.” and that's what they did. There had done that for a hour, then the power would flicker on and off. His boss put up his hand, and waved as if he meant, “No more”, Houston then put the papers that he had in his hand away in the box they came from. “That’s it Houston, I think we have done the best we could, there’s no point any more.” His boss looked around, eyeing up the progress they had made, and sighed, “If one good thing were to come out of this, we are getting some fine ass wine.” and proceeded out the basement door. After Houston had exited, his boss locked the door behind him. And they walked past the stairs into another room. This time, it was the bank vault they were going to. The vault door was enormous, it looked as if it could take a nuclear explosion. His boss put a digital pin on a keypad that was situated next to the vault door. A green light was emitted when the right code was made. You could hear the gears moving in the door, the metallic *ching ching and the metal hitting against metal. The door slowly came open, and you could see the boxes all neatly in their rows. They had to step over the crack that the door rested in, then they were in. His boss knew what Houston was talking about, and went to the directory on a computer in the center of the room. There, he looked up the name and number of the box and found it, “177, row 2” his boss said aloud. And they both walked over to where that box was located. He turned to Houston, “Still have the master key” and Houston dug it out of his pocket. He put it in the palm of his boss's hand and they were able to open the box. Houston proved to be right, with a few other papers and coins, there were two bottle of wine that Houston had said there were. His boss took out the ten silver coins that were in there, giving houston five. He then took out their prize, two 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild. His boss gave Houston one, and walked out of the room, “There’s no reason to look in the others, let’s get out of here” and Houston followed behind. They walked back up the steps and into the hallway that lead into the lobby. This was the longest walk of his life. He had just done something he knew indicated that modern civilization wouldn’t be the same. Destroying records on a mass scale like he just did, that’s the first he had ever heard of it. The government sanctioning stealing private property, without even one single push back. He knew the government was riding a thin wire, he knew the modern world was riding a thing wire. Houston walked, thinking on what was happening, thinking on what he was going to do. That’s when he and his boss reached the lobby at last. He could see out the gated windows, there were people no running down the sidewalk across the street. This made both men stop in their tracks, and Houston turned to his boss, “Listen, make sure you make it somewhere safe. I hope to see you again someday”, his boss put his hand on Houston’s shoulder, “Likewise.” and they departed out of the bank and onto the street.



Houston didn’t stop to look around, he went straight to his car. He could hear the multiple footsteps of the terrified people. He could hear the sirens of the emergency responders’ vehicles. Helicopters still buzzing overhead, and a few gunshots in the distance, south of the bank. In the havoc of it all, he didn’t hear that someone had come up behind him. They pushed him to the hood of his car, and had something sharp in their hand, the guy, with a low but young voice said, “Give me the keys to the fuckin’ car, or I will kill you.”. There was not much Houston could do, he was being pinned. He answered the mugger, “Listen, I can’t give you the keys if you have me trapped like this, you have to let me get them.”, but the mugger was already feeling up his pockets. Houston most feared that the mugger would discover that he had a gun in his back belt. This would put him in more trouble than he could imagine. As the mugger patted him down, Houston made one back kick for the guy’s knee. He only hit the side of the mugger’s knee, but made a impact enough to make him jump back away from him. Houston turned around to face him, and pulled his gun on the mugger. The mugger looked surprised and angry, then he spit at him, “What the fuck are you going to do?” and Houston pulled the trigger, the bullet hit the mugger’s leg. The guy’s back hit the sidewalk, and he laid their cursing at Houston. Houston was still facing the guy, when he back to the entrance of his car. The gun was still slightly pointed at the mugger, before he got into the car. Once he did, he drove off to his house. The streets and highway were still as they were when he first came to work, just slightly more people in his way. He couldn’t think, the thought of what he just did weighed on him like a ten ton boulder.He pulled into his garage, and hit the button that lowered the garage door. As soon as he walked into his house, he could feel the vomit in his stomach rise. He ran to the sink in his kitchen and vomited, until all that was left was just acid. He did this for five to ten minutes before it subisded. When he was done, he walked over to his couch and laid there. There was nothing in his head, just that scene replaying over and over again. He could still feel the gun in his hand, even though he had it in his front pocket. When he sat back up, her turned on the TV, it was the news that was on. The new was saying that Pittsburgh was no longer a viable option for habitation, that all residents try to evacuate to the Washington D.C area. The idea that he might have to leave Pittsburgh came to his mind several times. D.C was stated to have food and shelter, along with other supplies. After he had heard all the information that he needed to know about D.C, he started to make his plan. He had to meet up with his parents somehow. They lived in Albany, he could try to get to them. Though, Albany is probably in the same shape as Pittsburgh is. He knew from going up there a fair amount of times, that the back way from Pittsburgh to Albany is the best option. It would take an extra hour and a half, but there would probably be less traffic and interruptions. Also, since speeding isn’t the police's list of top problems, he could go twenty over the speed limit if he had to. What would he take, he had very little supplies, but he didn’t need much for the trip up there. His parents always had enough food for a week of two, they prepared for things like this. In truth, Houston just wanted to get up there as fast as possible, and get down to D.C. He knew the longer he waited, the more distractions and interruptions would surface. He got up from the couch and walked into his room that was on the second floor, he got two suitcases, one for food, and the other for everything else. As he was up there, he put two sets of clothes in his other suitcase, a first aid kit from his bathroom, shampoo, and a rope that was hanging in his closet. That filled the suitcase to it’s max. The other suitcase he put some food in it, a battery radio, a phone charger, and some utensils. He double checked everything, he made sure the doors were locked, the windows were locked, the blinds were shut, he even put some things in front of the windows to make it harder to break in. He unplugged several appliances, such as the microwave and oven, and even the refrigerator. The last thing he had to do were to call his parents, attempt to call his brother, and to call his ex. First was his ex, he wanted to wait for her, but he couldn’t risk it. He called her, and the phone went the voicemail, “Hey, I have to go get my parents up in Albany. If you call back, I can come back to get you. If there’s a chance I can’t get you, I will be heading down to D.C. The news say they are prepared for down there. Though, you probably already have this information. Anyway, I hope you make it out of this.”, he then hung up on the voicemail. The next person was his brother, he knew that he would probably get the answering machine, and he was right. He left a message explaining his plan to pick up their parents, and to head down to Washington D.C. And explained that this could be the last message he received from him in a while. The he same to his parents, he called, nothing, he then tried calling again, there was still nothing. He began to pace back and forth, back and forth. No one was picking up his calls, his nervous level was hitting a all time high. After the third try, he knew that he wasn’t going to reach them. This made him even more desperate to get up to Albany. He was now in panic mode, all the worst possibilities were running through his head. He kept telling himself that they already left for D.C. and he could probably just meet them there. That was not a good enough answer though, he still had to go get them.



He went out to his car, and put the suitcases in the back seat. He checked his belt area for his gun, and it was still there. He opened the garage door, and he went out onto the street to get out of Pittsburgh. He could see his neighbors doing the same thing as he was, packing up and leaving. Actually, that was what most of Pittsburgh was doing as well. His street wasn’t too bad, because most of the houses had garages where the cars were parked, so people weren’t running out into the street. The first responders were nowhere to be seen, they either quit or were too busy someplace else. You could still hear them, which was a good sign, and the helicopters were still flying over. Though, he thought that he had seen a couple of military helicopters as well, other than the typical medical flights. He was coming up to the intersection that connected the road that bypassed Pittsburgh, and his street. The one thing that stood, or broke down technically, was a SUV that looked to be from the 90s and was tan. He stopped, and it looked to be the Rell family from a couple blocks down. He looked as the wife, who was frantically apologizing to Houston, and he looked to see if he could get past them. There was nothing, the SUV was too large to go around on the road. There was a yard at the corner, a fence blocked it off, but it didn’t look to be too strong, only thin plywood. He knew what he wanted to do, it convincing himself to do it. As he thought more and more, two more cars came up behind him, honking their horns, as if it would fix the situation. As he looked back in the mirror, inside the tan SUV, he got a glimpse of what one of the children looked like. He could see the kid was terribly sick, and looked to be in trouble. He looked away from the rearview mirror, and focused his attention on the child. He noticed there was a red substance on his green and white stripped shirt, and it appeared to be coming out of the child's mouth. The thought his him like a train, he gagged, and he started to panic. Then, in one fluid motion, the kid turns their head to their father, who was on the inside of the SUV, trying to help them. The child bites down on the father's ear, ripping it off. Blood flowed and splattered all over the window, and child’s face. Houston put his car into drive and plowed through that fence, and made it onto the road he wanted to go on. He was heaving all over steering wheel, which dripped all over his pants. This didn’t even cross his mind, the horror was burning in his mind. He was crying and trying to concentrate on driving. With a loud voice, he was saying, “Please Jesus, please, please. Oh My god.”, his head was shaking back and forth, and his hand’s grip on the steering wheel would always change, either tighter or in a different location. After a while, he began to calm down, and assess his route. He knew how to bypass, Altoona, Scranton, and the college area, but getting around Kingston was something he was unfamiliar with. He always went through because they had a nice pizza shop downtown. Though, he had more immediate concerns to worry about. When he left the house, he a little less than half a tank left. He knew he would have to stop soon, or he wouldn’t make it to Albany.



He drove till there was only a quarter of a tank left, then he had to make a stop at a gas station. He was between the Lewisburg, and the college, and he was at a gas station that was near the edge of some incorporated town. He passed very few cars coming his way, and there was two that had followed him since Pittsburgh. When he got off to get gas, the two cars passed him by. When he pulled up to the pump, the light in the station was still on. Before he got out, he checked all around him to make sure no friends of his would creep up on him. When he got out, he locked the door and took the key, just in case the mugger had a vendetta against him. He walked out to the station and looked in, as if someone was still working. When he went to open the door, it was locked. He tried it again, to see if it was just a hard pull, but the door was surely locked. He looked all around, again, faced with a moral dilemma. Either find a gas station that was open, which was highly unlikely, or bust into this place and turn in the pump. He looked around to see if his second option was even doable. He rubbed his head, and then he remembered he kept a crowbar in the back of his car. He thought about shooting the glass, but that would cause too much noise. He went back to his car, and opened the trunk up. There, a red crowbar was lying on the carpet of the trunk. He took it out and walked over to the glass door of the gas station. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and brought back the crowbar, and took a swing. There was a cracking noise made by the glass, and it left a huge hole in the bottom part of the door. He had not fully broken it, and he decided to take another swing. This time, the whole bottom part of the glass fell out. And he looked in amazed curiosity that he did that, someone who had not even participated in one fight in his whole life. He kicked some of the glass out of the way, both before and after the door, and crawled through the opening. Once he was inside, he stood up and saw that no one was there, unless they were scared in the backroom. He walked over to the computer and looked at the buttons. There was a button that said gas and he pressed it. Then, a small red box came up and said pick a pump number and amount, he looked out the window and saw that he was on pump two. He put that he wanted a hundred dollars worth of gas. He didn’t have any gas cans with him, but he looked. There was none on the store, so he walked back outside. He looked all around, and saw none, he then decided that he was not going to waste him time looking for one. He jogged over to his car and put the crowbar back in the trunk. Then he began to fuel the car up. He waited there, constantly looking over his shoulder. He waited till the gas pump recognized that the car was full. He would shake the car a little bit to get the air bubbles out of the gas, so he could get more in. Once he was done, he got in and drove off. The rest of the trip was the same as before he went to the seven eleven. Few cars, and road ahead of him.



Once he got to the highway that led into Kingston, he thought that he only has one option. He didn’t know the backway, and the inner city was probably chaos. As he approached the sign that said, “Entering Kinston”, he knew that he would just have to bite the bullet. He didn’t see much, only a few slow moving people outside walking. A few cars would pass by, but the emergency responders were not here. He would stop for people who were crossing the street, though, not in a very fast manner. They would try to get up close to his window, but as soon as they were out of his way, he would take off. Most of the downtown was like this, though, he would sometimes have to take an alternative route because of a burning vehicle. He did this constantly, then he made it back onto the back road that came into the west side of Albay. There he drove and drove. Looking for the exit that he could you to get to his parents apartment. He left the road, and entered the west side of Albany. There, he could see the top of his parents apartment. He dove until he came to the gate that separated the apartment from the road. The gate was wide open, and most of the lot was empty. There used to be a security guard at a glass box, but they were missing, along with the boom barrier, that looked like it was torn right off. He made his way to the valet parking section of the hotel, he stopped. He did his usual looking around, and saw that there was no one to be seen. He got out and rushed over to the entrance of the apartment. He knew his way around, so there was no need to look. When he got inside, he saw that the place looked like a mess. There was suitcases thrown about, some of them were open with clothes hanging out of them. The window that the receptionist sat behind was shattered, and a chair laid under the window. The lights seemed to be fine, he had the expectation that they would be flickering on and off. The emergency door that lead to a flight of stairs was open, and propped up with a gallon bucket. He looked at the elevator, and then back to the stairs, he honestly thought the elevator would be quicker, but if the power failed, he would be in deep shit. Also, they were only on the fourth floor, so it wouldn’t waste too much time and energy. He ran up the steps, only tripping once the whole way. The fire lights were flashing, but there was not alarm. He would look at the signs above the doors to see what floor he was on, and then he came to the fourth floor door. He opened it and a buzzard screamed when he did. He paid no attention to it though. His parents room number was 108, and that was at the end of the hall. He walked, stepping over luggage, then something caught his eye, it was a black body back near the room 106. It was closed, and he stopped to look at it. He saw that it had orange biohazard tape on it. He then pressed on, walking away from it. He got to his parents room, he put his hand on the door handle and noticed that it wasn’t fully closed. He opened the door and found that his parents apartment room was still neat. He walked in, and shut the door behind him. He saw the living room, and it seemed that everything was in it’s place. He walked further into the apartment, and he stopped at the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen. He looked around, just where his vision could see the kitchen floor, he saw blood. He could feel the blood moving through his veins. He gripped the high chair that was scooted up against the counter. He slowly walked around the counter, each footstep was thought of in a careful manner. He then stepped off of the carpet and onto the white and black linoleum. The counter was beginning to clear his vision. He saw his dead mother, she was lying here, with a huge pool of blood on her chest and stomach area. He then saw what remained of her head, there was no top of her head, everything above the nose was gone. He looked at the refrigerator and stove, and saw pieces of bone stuck to the wall, along with her blood. He stood there, and stood there. His face contorted into what fear wanted. He pulled a chair from that side of the counter and sat. He sat there, looking at his mother, not comprehending what he was seeing. Tears were forming, though, he thought “Why were they forming”, that couldn’t be her, she never looked like that. That couldn’t possibly be her, he never saw her bleed that much blood. He balled his fists, and pounded them on the top of his thigh. His breathing was loud, he could feel the air tear at his throat. He slowly put his feet back down on the kitchen linoleum, and walked away, his brain was still turning the image he just saw into reality. He walked back into the living room, leaving bloody imprints of his shoe on the carpet. He walked into his parents bedroom, the sight was shocked his vision, like it was something only a madman would see. His parent’s bed was covered in blood. The pillow was flat from it, the sheets were on the floor, the blood was on them too. He walked further in, looking at the bed, and he saw two pair of feet lying on the ground, the bed hiding their owner. They were covered in socks, but barely any blood had gotten on them. He didn’t want to go over there, but his feet made him. His former father was lying there, with a two clean holes in his head, and a missing jaw. Once hole was in his forehead, and the other was in his cheekbone. His father’s jaw was missing, the flesh, a partial tongue, and three of the upper teeth were all that remained. He couldn’t kneel, his body prevented him from doing that, he backed up and looked away from his father. He walked out of the bedroom, he went back into the living room. He took a look around, and saw nothing. He wanted out of there that instant, whether that was through the door, or death. He walked out, shocked, scared, angry, but not being able to show it. He closed the door behind him, and walked away. He walked down the hall and noticed someone lingering in the doorway, but he didn’t call out. He stopped, and waited for the person to turn around. When they did, the stopped movement. They looked like they were analysing him, like when a predator sees their prey. They began to move towards him, in a slow fashion. He didn’t know what to do, walked towards them, he needed to get out and the exit was right there. He got out his gun from the front of his belt, and pointed it at them, “Listen, please stop, this gun will kill you.” and they responded with nothing but movement. He saw them, and with one squeeze of a trigger, the bullet hit them in the neck. Their head hit the wall slowly, and left streaks of blood on it. He rushed passed the body and went back down to the main lobby of the apartment. He went passed the entrance, and came back to his car. He got in and turned it on, there was no thought in this, only pure instinct. He sped out the gate and onto the street. As he made about five hundred feet from the apartment, the car began to sputter and finally gave out. The fuel gage read nothing, it was empty. When the car came to a stop, he leaned back and looked. Though, this looking was rather hollow. He didn’t know what to do, his plan has no meaning now. He reached for the handle, and got out of the car. He needed to get out of there, he needed a new car. There was one about ten feet from his, it was parked on the side curb. It was black, with one thin white stripe, he walked over to the driver side of the car and tried to open it. The car door opened and he got in the driver's seat, he got in and looked for the keys. He looked in the visor, in the armrest, and in the glovebox.

 

[Safton]

​

Jonah's eyes snapped open -- some stimulus had pulled him back from the brink of sleep moments before his brain shut down for the night. He lay still in the bed, listening to the sound of rain pattering lightly against the shingles and windows. Had it been a clap of thunder?

Shuffle, shuffle.

There, a very unfamiliar yet decidedly out-of-place sound... coming from outside his window. His heart immediately began working overtime. Had whoever robbed his house come back for a second run? This time with his guns in-hand? Jonah shot out of bed, all fatigue burned away by the adrenaline shooting through him. Careful not to make any noise that could possibly be heard outside, he fetched the brush hook from where it leaned against the wall of the bedroom before approaching the window.

Slowly, his fingers slid into the crevice between two blinds and pulled one down just far enough to give him a sliver to look through. He had to suppress a gasp -- not four feet from his window, a woman stood outside. Her back was turned to him, the loose-fitting tee shirt torn and ragged, matted dirty blonde hair hanging down to the small of her back. Even through the darkness and the rain, Jonah had no trouble making out the enormous gouge of flesh that had been torn from the side of her neck. The sight sent a shiver running down his spine.

The woman swayed back and forth like a drunk, head rotating to lazily scan the woodline. The wound, despite it's obvious severity, didn't seem to trouble her in the slightest. Jonah didn't even consider calling out to her, much less leaving the house to render aid. He was too dumbstruck by the sight... and the voice in the back of his head that told her this woman was infected: Africanized Rabies, or whatever the media was calling it right now.

Suddenly, she began to stagger off toward the trees, illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning. Jonah watched her as she plodded across his backyard, disappearing into the woods behind his home. He kept watching for another half-hour straight, as if expecting her to emerge again. She never did.

***​

The days following Jonah's supply run were the epitome of "hurry up and wait". The tense atmosphere of something very bad on the horizon hung oppressively over the house. The hours seemed to drag by and yet run together into one nearly incoherent stream of sleep, meals, and staring at the television screen for news updates.

Following his late-night visitor, Jonah had barely managed to get any sleep. Every noise from the storm roused him to alertness, sending his hand reaching for a weapon. He was feeling the effects now, his eyelids heavy as he went about busying himself in any way he could find. Work had been canceled indefinitely -- Daniel had left him a token message thanking him for all his hard work the last few years and that his severance pay would be forthcoming. Somehow, Jonah doubted it. Paying the bills was not at the top of his priorities right now; he simply would have appreciated the break in the psychosis-inducing routine he found himself in that work would have brought... if it didn't mean traveling out into the proverbial wolf's den.

The news made the situation in Atlanta and its surrounding areas out to be increasingly worse by the hour. The Governor had long since declared a state of emergency and deployed the National Guard. Now they were even being complemented by active duty troops activated under the Insurrection Act. Local and state police departments had called in all shifts in an attempt to maintain order, but beyond a precious few "safe zones" -- the actual safety of which was questionable at best -- they were hopelessly understaffed.

GEMA and the State Defense Force were working alongside the Red Cross to provide some measure of humanitarian aid to the stricken areas... along with carting off the infected in mysterious convoys like the one Jonah had seen days earlier. Those school buses were the subject of considerable controversy among those who demanded to know where their loved ones were being taken. Conspiracy theories were already brewing on internet message boards and social media: some said they were being unceremoniously and discreetly euthanized and disposed of, others claimed they were being used for study and experimentation.

The flurry of information always inevitably became too much for Jonah to handle, prompting him to find some other way to occupy his time until he could bring himself to face the news again. That meant either modest exercise, some kind of superfluous maintenance around the house, or taking stock of the essential supplies he had on-hand. He called Ian and Rich again during the week. The latter didn't pick up, which worried him. Ian assured him that while things were getting hectic downtown, he had it under control... though Jonah could sense the unease in his voice. He had even gone so far as to head outside to his truck, sitting there with the keys in the ignition, ready to go "rescue" his little brother from the crisis. He remained still for at least five minutes, staring at the steering wheel before shutting the truck off and heading back inside. Brent remained unreachable -- the Department of Corrections wouldn't be fielding any calls for the foreseeable future.

***
​

"...Commissioner Julian Vasquez of the Food and Drug Administration confirmed today that the new vaccine -- Phalanx -- has passed initial trials and has been issued an Emergency Use Authorization by his agency. He went on to state that this was a joint decision made with the full approval of the White House, the Secretary of Health and Human Services, the Public Health Service, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, as well as the Department of Homeland Security..." the talking head droned on, though even Jonah noted that the anchor seemed slightly disheveled, with bags under her eyes and wrinkled clothing affecting her otherwise professional demeanor. There were numerous spelling and grammatical errors in the never-ending stream of tickers across the bottom of the screen.

"...No word as of yet regarding when Phalanx will hit pharmacy shelves in the Metro Atlanta area. Public health officials urge citizens to remain calm and contact their local pharmacies, while avoiding contact with infected individuals in the meantime."

Jonah didn't bother dialing his pharmacy; he knew whatever answer they had for him wouldn't be good news. Besides, the initial panicked rush on the establishments would likely be as dangerous as the Rabies itself. As if to confirm his assessment, the anchor continued, "Despite this, law enforcement has reported a marked increase in violent crime and civil unrest throughout the Metro Atlanta area. National Guard and Military Police personnel have taken to the streets downtown to assist in riot control efforts." An image flashed across the screen of troops clad in ACUs and riot gear marching down Piedmont Avenue, bearing shields and tear gas launchers while a car fire blazed unchecked in the foreground.

Jonah shook his head, leaning back into the sofa and withdrawing his pocketknife, extending the blade and looking over the keen edge. He'd sharpened it twice already in the last few days, more out of boredom than any real need. Idly using it to pick imaginary dirt from under his fingernails, his attention was caught by another news report.

"Video has been released today that shows what actually happened in Cape Town, South Africa. The footage is graphic in nature and may be disturbing to sensitive viewers."

Jonah looked up curiously at the screen. The video showed a contingent of armed riot police manning a barricade at a crowded intersection, but heavily outnumbered by a large crowd of civilians moving toward them, fleeing something? The officers shout unintelligible commands into bullhorns, waving off the citizens. A few token rounds of tear gas are fired in their direction, but do nothing to halt the human stampede. Jonah didn't look away, even as he saw the rifles come up, followed by the flash of muzzle blasts and the sound of rounds being sent downrange. It hadn't been the first time he'd seen a human body riddled with bullets... even if it had been a few years.

Many of the civilians fell over dead, blood pooling in the street. Others scampered off onto side streets. The video fast-forwarded before suddenly halting several moments later. No one had attempted to aid the fallen refugees. Slowly at first and then with increasing pace, several of the bodies in the street began twitching before standing slowly to their feet. There was an eerie silence beyond the sound of distant shouts and speeding cars. The figures were moving toward the barricade once again, despite blood coating their bodies, the entry wounds from the rifles still oozing steadily. Jonah shuddered, recognizing that familiar staggering gait from the other night.

Another barrage was fired -- but this time the effect was very different. There were no screams of pain, even as rounds found their mark and tore into chests and arms and legs. They continued walking, continued approaching even as more bullets came their way. Jonah saw one of the civilians -- a young man -- catch a round to the head, skull fragments and blood misting out from the back of his cranium. He fell to the ground just as the video was cut off.

The anchors appeared again, reminding viewers that the video's authenticity had not yet been confirmed, but Jonah didn't need to hear it. His eyes were glazed over as he stared idly at the wall behind the TV set. The gunfire had sounded real enough and the effect on the human body matched what he had observed himself overseas... except these people didn't fall down. It wasn't unheard of, of course. He'd heard plenty of anecdotes about determined insurgents hyped up on adrenaline and under the influence of opium or khat, taking multiple bullets and continuing to fight. But he'd never seen it firsthand.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupted him. He got up from the couch, moving over to answer it. "Hello?"

"Jonah Alan Decker?" a gruff voice on the other end asked.

"Yes?"

"This is Gunnery Sergeant Cody Dawes, United States Marine Corps Forces Reserve. This is an activation notice. Effective immediately, you are reinstated at the rank of Sergeant and assigned to Echo Company, 4th Combat Engineer Battalion."

"I'm going back to my old unit?" Jonah asked, his heart rate spiking in his chest and not out of excitement or nostalgia.

"Only on paper, Sergeant. This is a unique situation, so your activation is being done on an individual basis. Your duty station will not be in Alabama. You are to report to Berry Field in Nashville, Tennessee. Once there, you will be attached to Alpha Company, Regimental Engineer Squadron of the Tennessee Army National Guard's 278th Armored Cavalry Regiment."

A brief silence followed. "Sergeant? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here," Jonah said, his mouth dry.

The Marine on the other end remained silent for a moment before replying, his tone hushed now. "Sergeant, I'm supposed to tell you that failure to appear at your duty station in a timely manner will be punished to the fullest extent allowable by the Uniform Code of Military Justice. But I'll be straight with you: we're seeing a lot of AWOL cases. You might not even be missed if you decided to ride this thing out on your own rather than risk putting the uniform back on." Jonah frowned, staring at the phone in his hand incredulously. "But..."

"But?" Jonah prodded.

"You're in the Atlanta area?"

"That's right."

"You may want to think twice about that, then. I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but things are only getting worse in the Southeast. Atlanta's a clusterfuck waiting to happen. A lot resources are being put into making Nashville work. Just... think about it."

Jonah swallowed. "I understand, Gunny."

"Good. Welcome back to the Marine Corps, Sergeant Decker. Semper Fi."

The line clicked. Slowly, Jonah placed the receiver back into its cradle. Could he do that -- make his way north to Nashville? That would mean going through Atlanta or bypassing it entirely, neither of which would be simple with things the way they were outside. He'd have to abandon his home, take all the supplies he could carry in his truck. His visit to nearby stores last week had been aimed at buying items to help him shelter-in-place, not travel across what amounted to a war zone.

But what was the alternative? Ignore the call-up, stay here at home or head south? Jonah felt a pit in his stomach just considering it. Still, some small part of him was telling him that he had already paid his dues, had already served his country. Now it was time to look after himself. Luckily for his ability to live with himself, that part of him lost out to cold, hard logic. Atlanta was only getting worse -- the infection might be centered on the capital for the moment, but eventually it would spread outward in every direction... including his. He'd already seen the first hint of that the night of the thunderstorm.

Jonah's cellphone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, surprised to see that the text was from Ian. Punching in the passcode, he read the message and felt his blood run cold.

 

[NanLia]

Week 3

World News

CNN

“After months of global tensions between India and Pakistan the world’s worst fears were confirmed today when one of the countries opened fire on the other. With no line of command between the two lines of defense and no ability to communicate with higher ranking officers, warfare escalated until the launch of nuclear warheads.

Still no communication from either of countries leadership, it is believed to have been a miscommunication between the two governing factions. Reports are indicating that India had fired first, destroying connecting bridges over the Sutlej River that was allowing a large mass of refugees to filter form Pakistan into India. It is assumed that the Pakistani military saw this as an attack on their people and returned fire.

Specialists believe there will be little for Americans to worry in the ways of fallout from this attack. Any fallout that does reach American soil will have degraded to safe levels within the atmosphere, however it is cautioned to keep an eye on nuclear sickness symptoms and seek treatment if any occur.”









VIRAL

“A new viral video trending from overseas shows how the Russian Military are handling their soldiers from turning AWOL. Viewer discretion is advised, there are scenes of gore and violence to follow.”

Video starts to play; looking like a cellphone camera from someone’s pocket is filming. The person filming stands among many others in the same uniform, before them someone of command speaks in Russian, but translation is offered. He is shouting, face red. After a few minutes of this angry speech the people start to move, breaking off into groups of ten.

They stand facing each other and the same commander continues to shout at them as someone off camera moves a wheelbarrow filled with fist sized rocks into view. The commander speaks again, though no longer shouting and the people whom are facing each other begin to look desperate, panicked. One of the group steps into the center and knees, eyes focused on the ground before them as the other nine select rocks from the wheelbarrow.

The video cuts out as the person filming raises their hand clutching a rock.

“Human Rights organizations worldwide are attempting to communicate with the Russian military in an attempt to identify any of the soldiers within this video and determine its authenticity. Currently we CNN has received no reply from the Russian government with their comments.”




US News

“WikiLeaks has published documentation from the US government of an act called The Redecker Plan. Within the documents it states that US government had known about the virus and its effects months in advance and had been preparing a defensive plan to fight back against the spread of the disease.

Phase one indicates that there are Alpha Units sent out to cities across the nation with are known to have current outbreaks where the units are to ‘investigate, isolate and eliminate with extreme prejudice’.

The US government coupled with all forces of the US military have been building various defendable positions across the nation where citizens can retreat to and help fight the outbreak.”

“The US government is asking citizen in high population cities to make their way to these designated safe zones for further assistance and protection, as well; they have released confirmation that the virus cannot survive extreme cold and are urging citizens to head north into Canada’s open borders in order to avoid the dead.”

The first casualty of the conflict must be our own sentimentality Paul Redeker

New York

“Today in down town New York City were are getting live feed from EZ-J Female rap star, Johana Mars, from her penthouse apartment. EZ-J has gathered friends and loved ones to ride out the storm in her ‘suped-up” home with all the ‘fix-ins”.”

Video cuts to a hand held device as EZ-J is walking through her penthouse, filming other celebrities, major and minor. ‘We gonna survive this things because we EXPLISTIVE EXPLISTIVE survivors yo!” Others cheer and clap as she passed through a living room stock full of other rap-stars and their gangs. She steps out onto a balcony to show the New York City skyline. ‘We got food for days, water bottled, something called a desalinizer gonna get us some clean water from the East River. Hired me some bad ass security. Ain’t nothing gonna get me in here EXPLISTIVE!”

Behind her can be seen said hired security, standing look out on the balcony. The armored man’s radio squawks: <Oh god! There are so many! They’re coming!> EZ-J turns the camera to look down the road and a large mass is moving down the street. <Oh god! They’re running!> She zooms in and reveals a massive mob of people, adults, children, elderly, all making for the building. ‘What are you waiting for? Shoot them!” She screams; already ladders are being put up over the walls and people are pouring over them into the compound.

The video becomes fuzzy as it is clear that EZ-J is now running through the halls of her penthouse, but her destination is never met as the crowds of people from below start pushing through the doorways and halls in her penthouse. The video cuts off abruptly and the news anchor takes over again.

“Well, we will have to come back to EZ-J, later, when she and her security handle what they have going on there.”

​

Safton Crono St. Boethius Sir Swigglesworth Jackstack DemetrioMachete

 

[NanLia]

The following days after Sergeant O’Donovan left were slow moving. While the other family came to settle with them; the farm house was massive; the Wallace family had once been very large within the community, their numbers had dwindled over the years, everyone seemed content enough within the house except for Ginny. The others had not been privy to the conversation with the Sergeant, save for Donald Fitzpatrick, and he confided with Ginny that he had not told his wife or children the details, only that the government had sequestered their stock and land to provide to Ginny. She knew well enough that this virus was far worse than the authorities or the news were letting on, but she just didn’t understand why. Why not just tell the public how bad it actually was?

She continued to follow news reports, both from reputable sites and conspiracy theorist sites to try and understand more of what to expect; she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that this wouldn’t be coming their way, she was only thankful it seemed to be delayed due the lack of population here.

Despite the erection of the additional and reinforced fencing the cattle continued to battle a never seen enemy. Every morning they returned to the barn yard to be fed and every morning one or more of her bulls or bows had to be cleaned and checked over. Over the course of the week she and the farm hands had to replace parts of the fence on three separate occasions. Either whatever this was attacking her cattle was massive, or it was very determined. She had lost two dairy cows in the process and was becoming more and more dead set on finding and ending whatever it was that was out there. She had never, in all her years of farming, ever faced something as confusing as this was.

The sites where the dairy cows had been taken were odd. The scene was exactly as you would have expected it: blood everywhere, the tracks of panicked animals clouding the tracks of the predator, however it was clear the first cow went down under surprise attack. It must have been sleeping, Ginny decided, when it was set upon causing the others to split and run before recollecting themselves. She knew of no predators that could walk up to a herd of cows unseen. It was almost as though the cows didn’t fear it, that it was common place.

The second site was just as bloody as the first, but this cow hadn’t been surprised; it has been injured. By the look of the remains it seemed like it had stepped in a hole and broken its leg, the predator had set upon it after wards. At both sites there was little left that would indicate that there had been a cow there at all. The entire beast had been devoured, its bones gnawed upon and torn apart. She had little doubt that this was a pack of some sort, but the bite markers didn’t match anything she could identify. They looked almost human.

As troublesome as this was and as much as she wanted to track the predatory pack down other issues arose to the top of her list of priorities. Shortly after the Sergeant had left Ginny’s farm they had lost power. This was not an uncommon thing for out as far as they were from the city; they had the provisions needed to continue running their electricity. Ginny had a generator and a thousand gallon slip tank on the property for fueling the farm equipment. It wasn’t ideal to use the diesel in the tank for the generator, but she figured it would due out of necessity. She had just recently refueled the tank; something she did at the end over every season when the prices of fuel were the lowest, and the generators tank had been full to begin with.

Typically the power returned after a few hours, only twice as far as Ginny could recall, was it more than two days. By the third day she was becoming concerned. She decided then to take a trip into town, stock up on some supplied they didn’t otherwise have at the farm and check in on the local gossip; the best place to find out what was happening.

She wasn’t prepared for what she found.

The town was half abandoned, which explained why there was no power. The local coal plant had not received a shipment of fuel in nearly two weeks and now its workers, having nothing to do and fearing for their lives, had abandoned their jobs. With no one maintaining the plant it had run dry putting most of the NE part of Montana in darkness.

Worse than this news was that of the town; with people in the dark and abandoning their homes the grocery and pharmacy had run dry of both supplies and employees. Even now as she stepped up to the Pharmacy’s glass doors she could see the shelves were empty. The owner hadn’t even bothered to lock the doors before leaving; there was just nothing to steal.

She knew they had enough food at the farm, in storage and within the gardens to keep her family and guests fed for the near future, though they certainly wouldn’t be any feasts any time soon. Getting back into her truck she found a slip of paper and a pen to do some quick calculations. With the amount of fuel in the generator and the slip tank they could run the lights and accessories for at least a month. Given the time of year, there was no need for heat but she would certainly disconnect the air conditioner from the generator. That would save them another week of fuel. She sighed looking around the abandoned market place; this wasn’t going to end any time soon that was for sure. Re-doing the calculations if they removed the house from the generator and only supplied power to the cold storage; where the majority of their food was stored, the power could run for three months with the slip tank. They could run the lights for an hour each night, to give people a chance to re-charge cell phones and devices.

She didn’t know when the Sergeant would be returning to move them; they hadn’t provided her with an ETA, so she needed to work at worst case scenario. Limited food and power save the fuel for vehicles. With this done she decided to make one more stop before returning home. She wanted to check at the local Co-Op store. Often in the past this store was ignored because it’s supplies were for farms specifically, but given their choices Ginny would take medical supplies meant for livestock over have none at all.

She was surprised to find Alan and his sons out front of the store, door wide open; they were loading items into the back of their own pick up. She pulled into the lot beside them, thinking nothing was amiss until she hoped out of the truck and came around the side to see Alan holding his shotgun at the ready. She paused and stared at the man until he eventually lowered the gun.

“Ginny, what the hell are you doing here?” Alan was looking into the truck, for what she hadn’t a clue. “You shouldn’t be out like this, it’s not safe.”

Ginny from and planted her fists on her hips. “I do well enough alone; I don’t need anyone to protect me.” She was surprised by his attitude towards her. They had been long time hunting companions, long before Joe has passed away, she could hold out better than anyone else on a deep woods hunting trip. “I came because the stores are out of everything, wanted to see if you were open and had anything to sell.”

His expression changed then, “Don’t go back to the town, Ginny.” He was turning and whistling, the boys peered out from behind the doorway and he signaled them. “Load up some stuff for Misses Wallace.” The boys looked frightened, but nodded and disappeared into the store. Alan was turning to face her again. “We’ll load you up, but then you go home and don’t leave again. Don’t go into town, stay away from people. It’s not safe.” The boys were moving now, carrying crates of supplies from the dark store and dropping them into the bed of her truck before ducking back into the darkness.

Ginny was put off by it all, Alan’s reaction, the town abandoned. She nodded to Alan and thanked him, promising to do as he said; stay home. With supplies readied Ginny returned home.

***​

Pulling up to the house just before dark she knew Marta would have gone home for the night, Ginny had attempted to call the woman and tell her to bring her family out to the farm; she knew they lived on the outskirts of the town, but the phone lines had been busy. The front door to her house was wide open and she could see Deputy Cross standing on the porch looking in the front door.

She cursed internally, she didn’t think he would let her running a road block drop; he’d only agreed just so he wouldn’t make a scene out front of the school. She didn’t blame him, she had broken she had broken the law and she would pay the penalty for doing so. “Officer Cross!” She called walking briskly to the steps of the porch and taking them two at a time. “I’m glad you’re here, I wanted to apologize again for the other day, I was just-“She paused at Deputy Cross started to turn around, almost at a shuffle, his body listing to one side. She gasped as he turned to face her.

He was disheveled, his typically clean and crisp uniform was marred with blood and a dark brown liquid, it looked similar to what the bulls brought in with them. Shirt was un-tucked from his pants, torn in places and he had a bite wound on his throat, skin pulled back and muscles showing. “Oh God, Mike.” She stepped towards him “It’s okay Mike, I got you.” She reached for him, shouting into the house for help as he hands came to press on the wound on his throat. He groaned, the noise gurgling from the wound and she wince.

He reached for her and grasped her side and shoulder with surprising strength. Fingers dug into her skin and she winced. “It’s okay Mike, you’ll be okay.” But he was pulling her, trying to get her closer to him, lips parting as he continued to groan, almost like a growl now. “Mike stop.” She stepped back, trying to remove herself from his grip, the man was now gnashing his teeth at her, still pulling painfully. Her foot slipped at the top of the staircase and she tumbled backwards, pulling Deputy Cross down on top of her.

The next several seconds were a blur for Ginny. She could feel the weight of the Deputy on top of her, his hands still pulling at her, digging at her clothing. She heard her shirt tearing at the seams as he was still trying to pull her closer to his face, those biting teeth. Sounds were dulled, almost muted; she didn’t hear the footsteps up the gravel pathway. More hands arrived, but instead of gripping her they were pulling on the Deputy, releasing his old of her and dragging him out of side. A face appeared before her, Charlie, his lips were moving but she didn’t hear what he said, couldn’t understand him.

A gun shot cleared her shock, eyes wide she reached for Charlie. “Ginny! Damn it! Answer me. Are you hurt? Did he bite you?” She blinked in confusion at Charlie’s odd question before shaking her head. “No,” she cleared her throat, “He didn’t bite me.” He dragged her to her feet, holding her upright and she was thankful for it; her legs felt like jelly, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own, in the doorway of the house stood Katie, cell phone in hand looking panicked and worried. Charlie ushered her up the steps towards the house and into Katie’s arms.

***​

After a long bath in hot water then changing into some comfortable clothing Katie joined Ginny in bed, protectively holding her younger sibling. She explained it all then, what had happened. While Ginny was out Deputy Cross had come to the house. Katie had seen him meandering through the fields towards the house seeming lost and confused. She had heard the warnings from the news, knew to report any strange behavior but the emergency lines were busy. She had called Charlie. Charlie had told her to go in the house and hide, make no noise and he would come.

It had been lucky for Ginny that Charlie and the remainder of the reserves had arrived when they did, otherwise Ginny may have been bit. Regardless of her claims to being fine the reserves medic arrived to run his own tests; he drew her blood and gave her a brief and rather awkward physical exam before declaring that she had, in fact, not been infected.

Katie then informed Ginny that Sergeant O’Donovan, after hearing about the incident, ordered the reserves to move camp to Ginny’s farm to keep the government’s assets safe from harms way.

 

[St. Boethius]

Norman's work was progressing well in Chicago once the Phalanx vaccine was released. It allowed Norman and those under him to push further into the city to perform his tests and.... remove the infected. It was all going so well until the good people of Chicago realized that they weren't going to be getting any of that vaccine. That the government already considered their city too far gone. That's when the riots broke out once again and despite the best efforts of the police and military they were pushed back to their first quarantine zone. It had been a few days since they had been pushed back and while it was jarring Norman still had a job to do. He had received new orders from command that he was to begin evacuating the city, but that he would be prioritizing a certain group of people. Doctors, scientists, politicians, developers, farmers; People who could keep society running should something happen. Though he would have to go about this carefully.

Soon there was a city wide announcement using the emergency alert system. It would tell citizens to report to the quarantine zone for one final test and then they would be evacuated from the city. If course this was only a half truth. They didn't have the resources to care for and transport the entire population of Chicago. In fact they would barely cope just with those named on the list. So As the testing began anyone who tested clean, but not a part of that list was told to return home and prepare for an evacuation that would occur in 3 days. Those on the list were decommissioned and loaded onto a transport. Usually decontamination was reserved only for those found to have early signs of infection. This way those who were on the list would only suffer a little fear and there wouldn't be mass hysteria as they were trying to leave.

The plan worked better than expected. The infected went in one transport and were disposed off, as there were only ever a handful of them, and then they were able to transport the over packed evacuees into the now unoccupied transport. Norman and the rear guard were responsible for breaking down the quarantine zone and sealing off the city. How did they think to seal off a city as big as Chicago? Landmines. Landmines and C-4. After destroying bridges they laid land mines in every major roadway into and out of the city, and then they left the city to fall apart. It wasn't the best decision morally, but it was the best they could do given the circumstances.

It would be practically a day of driving before the convoy made it to the next fort. No sooner did Norman take a load off with his squad in the Mess did his commanding officer interrupt with a new assignment. Norman and his men were tired, but it would seem they would get some sleep on the way because they were heading for some place called Jacksonville. At least they would get a few hours sleep once they set up quarantine.

When Norman and his squad got to Jacksonville he quickly figured out why they were able to sleep so long on the ride over. They were in the middle of absolutely nowhere Montana! All they could see for miles was plains, plains, a bit of city, and more plains! This was a quarantine nightmare! Nonetheless he had a job to do and when they got to the farm house they were using as a base Norman and his squad immediately started turning it into a decontamination zone. " Everyone prepare to be tested and start packing your things. We're beginning evacuation." Norman said to the civilians and military personnel inside and his and his team worked quickly to set up their mobile lab.
NanLia

 

[DemetrioMachete]

The days went by, and the quality of living began to deteriorate for Merlin and Jack. The hotel couldn't afford to bring them steaks, anymore; instead resorting to feeding their celebrity guest items from the continental breakfast, as it was essentially all that was left. Not that Merlin complained, he grew up having to deal with what was given to him, and earning the rest. Service was getting slower because the hotel staff started vanishing, it seemed. The only one that seemed to consistently show up was a young lady named Helga, and even then, Merlin could tell she was terrified. Despite his offers to let Helga stay up in the Penthouse with Merlin, she declined, claiming she would rather be with her family after work.

One day though, not even Helga showed up when Merlin buzzed for room service before his daily exercise. Immediately, the Heavyweight Champion knew something was wrong.

"Jack, get dressed, man." Merlin told his trainer, as he himself began dressing himself in a dark red shirt and khaki colored slacks. "Something is wrong, wrong in Battle Creek."

"You're telling me this, now? Shit, Merlin just look at this." As Jack showed Merlin his phone, it was of EZ-J. Merlin knew her, of course. He mingled with quite a few celebrities. His eyes squinted with suspicion as the people below began to raid her penthouse suite. The way everyone was so casually resorting to the option of shooting, hardly referring to them as people, Merlin merely shook his head.

"That's what happens when you boast outside the job. EZ-J had that shit coming, like Karma, man." Jack only nodded to this. Merlin was about as inventive as Ali when he was fighting, but always so reserved in between his contracts.

By the time the two were dressed, they took the stairs all the way down to the bottom floor. As much as Merlin's life standards had been lowered, he didn't trust the elevator at all. Plus, this would serve as good exercise; cardio built stamina.

The lobby floor was completely deserted. While Jack didn't think much of it, Merlin knew something was up. He motioned for Jack to follow, taking him to Jack's personal car, a 2004 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, painted like his boxing scheme, with red, white and black. It almost looked like an older NASCAR vehicle, but with no numbers or sponsors upon it. It was quiet on the ignition, though. While the boxer liked professional racing, he was fearful of going too fast.

Cautiously, the pair drove through the alarmingly empty streets of Battle Creek. Cars were parked on either side of the road, but there were no people around.

"You got an idea on where we're going, playa?" Jack asked Merlin.

"Gonna stop by the pawn shop real quick."

"Pawn shop?"

"Folks are losing their shit, Jack. We gotta arm ourselves, protect ourselves. You and I are celebrities; big targets."

"Now how do ya know if the pawn shop is even intact, Merlin?"

"They got big heavy bars on the windows, and the owner is armed?"

"Eeeh yeah. Good point."

The duo arrived, left the car, making sure to lock it afterwards, and entered the pawn shop. The doors were unlocked, giving a light squeak as they were pushed open. As Merlin feared, it was empty inside. After walking around for a bit, the boxer called out.

"Ey old man! You here? We wanna buy something!" No response. Eight seconds of waiting, and the boxer shook his head, cursing under his breath. At the end of their browsing, Merlin settled on a bulky set of brass knuckles adorned with spikes, one for each hand. Jack, meanwhile, picked up a Glock, and enough rounds to fit in his pockets, which ended up being around 100. Not wanting to be labeled a thief, Merlin dumped some money on the countertop, departing with their weaponry.

"Aight, now we's armed. Where to now?"

"I think our best bet is to get out of Battle Creek, wouldn't you say? Doesn't look like a lot of people have power.. and all those refugees overwhelmed the city, didn't they?"

"There was something on the news about that. All them folks flooding in from Chicago, bein needy city folk. Must have drained Battle Creek' s resources!"

"Exactly, old timer. Now let's go."

Before Merlin could get back into the car, Jack grabbed him by the shoulder, to get his attention. He was pointing off in the distance. There was a person shambling about. Squinting, Merlin approached. What was with his gait? Was he sick? Drunk? Wounded? He wanted to make sure. As he approached, he took in the hobbling person's features. It was a man. He was sickly pale, trailing blood behind him, with blood all over his grey suit. Merlin unanimously concluded that this man was hurt bad.

"Ey cuz, you alright?" Merlin asked with genuine concern as he approached, reaching out a hand to further investigate the damage. When suddenly, the man gurgled, lunging at Merlin! His fighting instinct kicked in, and he shoved the man aside, watching as he tripped and fell to the ground. Jack was quick to catch up, looking in concerned disgust as he saw the grotesque amounts of circular wounds on his back. Most were certainly bullet holes, but some of them looked too large to be bullets. As the man got up, his face met Jack's, and immediately, Jack backed up, rambling in a panic.

"OH LAWD IN HEAVEN THAT AIN'T WHAT I THINK IT IS! MERLIN? MERLIN! BEAT THIS GUY UP BAD HE NEEDS TO DIE! OOOOH SHIT!"

Merlin approached, readying a brass knuckle as the man tried to reach for Jack. Before the coach could draw his pistol, Merlin mounted Mr. Grabby-hands' back proceeding to punch him with his spike-adorned fists. Right in the back of the skull. Shot after shot, never relenting until he started seeing brain matter. His coach had worked him up, and before he knew it, the man lay limp. By the time Merlin knew what was going on, he turned to Jack, a look of pure fury on his face.

"What the hell, old man! Telling me to kill the guy-LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO, THIS GUY IS DEAD!"

"Merlin, baby, that ain't no guy. He ain't human at all. Man, look at all them wounds on his back! That cracka shoulda been dead! It's that Africanized Rabies, homie, I'm telling you!"

Merlin paused, constantly glancing between his bloody weapon and hand, Jack, and the "man" he just caved in the skull of. The stress of killing was intense.. but he couldn't break down. He wiped the blood off his hand and brass knuckles with the cleaner bits of the dead man's suit, shaking his head as he walked back.

"Let's just get back in the car," Merlin spoke hardly as he walked past Jack, got in, and turned the key on the ignition. Jack was soon to follow. They were in for a long, quiet drive out of Battle Creek, if nothing else went wrong.

NanLia