Fractured: Outbreak ZOM-813

FRACTURED

Outbreak ZOM-813

MARIE LANZA

Copyright © 2013 by Marie Lanza
http://www.MarieLanza.com

Fractured: Outbreak ZOM-813 is an original work of fiction by Marie Lanza, who holds the sole rights to all characters and concepts herein.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are productions of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

To Dan

My love, my rock.

Gerald, Thanks for everything!

Sirens…. Then it begins.

INTRODUCTION

GROUND ZERO: LOS ANGELES

Looking back, it all began with one news story.  A homeless man attacked another down on Skid Row. It wasn’t uncommon for two homeless men to attack each other; by all accounts they were mostly crazy people anyway. This particular story made headlines because the attacker had the victim’s face for breakfast. The story read that as the victim lay there screaming, his attacker sat over him tearing away at his flesh, at one point even throwing an eye ball at a passing car. Officials blamed the never ending battle with drugs - specifically bath salts.

The victim was said to survive, the attacker was first sent for mental evaluation, and then jail. However, because the attention span of the average person is only fifteen minutes, when that story’s minutes were up, it was forgotten. How long can you continue to discuss two homeless men anyway? In a big city, this was a daily occurrence; maybe not the flesh eating part, but assaults were the norm. What didn’t make headlines was that neither of these men were ever seen again.

CHAPTER 1

5am – My usual wake up ritual. Take a few minutes to collect my thoughts, cuddle with my dog Mayhem, get up, dressed, and off for a daily jog blasting Iron Maiden on my Ipod. Mayhem would practically grab his own leash for our morning run, waiting at the front door and showing his excitement with his steady tail wag. Dan was still sleeping. He would eventually wake up, do his own exercise, then head on to work.

Dan and I had been living together for a few years now. Both of us had kept the same strict routines from before we met. It was nice that neither of us had a hard time adjusting to the other. Morning exercise, breakfast, work, home, dinner, sleep – not that exciting, but it worked.

The sun started to show its face around 5:45am bringing out light pastels of pinks and purples into the sky. The air was crisp, the sky spit out some moisture, but it was far from rain.  

That day, something was different. It was quiet, a little too quiet. Not that I was accustomed to dozens of people on this run path in the morning, but a handful was normal.

Mayhem didn’t seem to be bothered. He ran slightly ahead of me with his leash in his mouth, sniffing the dirt and trees the same as usual.

Is it a holiday and I missed it on the calendar?
That must be it - the city is sleeping in.
I should check my calendar when I get home.

My mind was running as fast as my legs as I climbed up the hill.

What did I miss today?

My thoughts were so loud that they had drowned out the blaring music coming through my headphones. I pushed on up the trail, checking my heart rate every few minutes, breathing steady as chilled air hit my face and cools my lungs.

Dan and I lived in a neighborhood close to the hills which was perfect for us as we are both the outdoors type. There were popular trails close enough to us so that our jogs could begin from the house.  Getting to the top of the trail I could look down into the valley and, on a clear day, see Downtown Los Angeles and sometimes even the ocean. The city looked so peaceful from up there. Away from traffic congestion, clusters of people, noise, and smog you could really admire the city’s greatness.

The main trail branches off in several places, with trails taking you to different neighborhoods of the community. About two miles up is a park where I would usually turn around. This park connects to other trails that continue for miles into state and national parks.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I reached the park and got my first glimpse of the city.   A massive cloud of black smoke was rising from downtown, and helicopters were hovering over the scene keeping watch.  I no longer wondered why I was alone on the trail.  My questions were replaced with a growing feeling of concern.

“What in the world?” I asked myself while pulling my headphones out of my ears, trying to catch my breath.

The scene in the distance only told me why I was alone on the trail, not what was happening downtown. I couldn’t hear anything from the top of this hill; I could only see the billows of smoke and police helicopters circling. Off in the distance it appeared news choppers were also up trying to get a glimpse of whatever was happening.

All I could think of was that I needed to get home, and turn on the news.

Mayhem sat next to me looking out over the valley. I doubted he was having the same thoughts as me. That’s the beauty of a dog, always seeming like they don’t have a care in the world. They’re just happy to be with you.

Running down the hill I explained to myself that unlike me, everyone else had turned on their televisions before leaving home, and seeing there was a fire in the city, had decided to take the day off from exercise due to bad air quality. This made sense.

The fact that there was a fire wasn’t concerning me. We have brush fires several times a year. It’s a fact of life living in California. But this fire was burning in the center of the city. I knew it could be caused by a number of things – mostly benign causes - but with the world the way it was, I instantly started thinking the worst case scenario – terrorists.
When I returned home Dan must have heard me open the front door. He called out from the back room, “Hey babe.”

Mayhem burst through the house like a wild beast upon hearing Dan’s voice.

“Hey, did you turn on the news this morning?” I was eager to find out what was happening.

“No why? How was the run?” he asked, walking down the hallway. Mayhem greeted him, and Dan took his leash to put away.

I grabbed the remote to the TV lying on the coffee table and hit the power button, turning the TV on, then walked to the kitchen where I could see Dan. He was shuffling through the cabinets doing a last minute clean up from breakfast. He approached me and kissed my forehead.
“Weird,” I answered. “No one was on the route. I think it’s because there’s a big fire downtown.” I added, still bothered by the lack of anyone else on the streets. “I just turned on the TV to see what is going on.”

“Huh.” He shrugged it off.

“That’s all you got? Huh?”

Sometimes I wonder if men are bothered with anything at all, or maybe I’m putting too much into this. It’s just like him to not give anything like that a second thought, where my mind needs an answer.

“Alright, well, I’m off to work.” Dan took his keys lying on the counter and made his way over to me again for another kiss before leaving through the door out to the garage.

I had been an out of work Investigative Newspaper Reporter for the last few months, and sitting at home all day had taken some getting used to. Jobs were few and far between in the newspaper business. I missed the daily grind of fighting traffic, getting to the office, and working around people. Dan coached at a private high school, and luckily for us, his work was stable.

I saw Dan off to work and continued getting on with my day.

First things first.

I went back to the living room to catch the local news. When I stepped in front of the TV, the garish color bars of the Emergency Broadcast System (EBS) and the familiar text of “THIS IS ONLY A TEST” were on the screen.

“Don’t overreact, simple issue,” I told myself as I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume which only brought the deafening ring that accompanied the color bars.

Hitting the mute button relieved me of that horrible noise, and I quickly flipped the channel until I found the Morning News.

The other channel must be down…

Then, there it was again, EBS flashed on the screen, but within seconds the news show resumed. I turned off mute again so I could figure out what was going on.

“DUE TO A VIOLENT RIOT THAT BROKE OUT IN THE DOWNTOWN SKID ROW AREA, POLICE ADVISE ALL RESIDENTS IN THE VICINITY TO STAY IN YOUR HOMES.”

“Riots? When did they test EBS for riots?” I asked the TV like it would answer me back.
“WE’LL BE TESTING THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEMS THROUGHOUT THE DAY. IN THE EVENT OF AN EMERGENCY, EBS WILL BE REPLACED WITH THE EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEMS,” the news anchor continued.

“The internet will give me answers,” I said to no one in particular. You could find anything on the internet. I walked into our home office where we kept our computers, and I was hitting buttons before I even sat down. My homepage was set as my favorite news site, and there I found the headlines I was looking for: “STORY DEVELOPING: POLICE RIOT TEAMS BLOCK DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES.”

Instinctively my hands picked up my cell phone, and I called Dan. I knew he would not be listening to the radio in the car, especially talk radio. He’s the guy blasting his music, singing to tunes, and zoning out on his daily commute.

“Hey honey, I knew something bad was happening in downtown.”

“What is it?”

“Says story developing, but riots broke out on Skid Row. The news even tested the Emergency Broadcast System for a few seconds.” I explained as I scan the news site to see if there was more information available.

“Since when do they broadcast that for a riot?” He questioned.

Riots are not a common thing in Los Angeles; the last major ones were over a decade ago, but it’s a good question as neither of us remember the EBS airing during those times.

“That’s what I was wondering, too, but they said they were just testing it,” I said.

“Alright, well I’m sure it’s just a big deal of nothing. I’ll try to check it out when I get to work.”

“OK, well, call me back,” I said, hanging up the phone without moving my eyes from the computer screen.

I’m not sure how many times I hit the refresh button while I sat waiting for Dan to call me back. He worked on the other side of town, and on a good day, it generally took him about thirty minutes to get to work, but on a bad day it could take over an hour. I sat there clicking away at every headline available and reading the same thing, ‘Story Developing.’

The sudden ring of my cellphone jarred me back from my state of focus.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Looks like it’s all contained to downtown,” Dan said on the other end of the line.

As he read me a news story he found, I got up and walked back to the TV in the living room, turning up the volume a little more.

“A TWELVE BLOCK RADIUS AROUND THE SKID ROW AREA HAS BEEN ZONED OFF IN DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES. POLICE AND SAFETY CREWS ARE ON THE SCENE AND ASK PEOPLE TO KEEP CLEAR OF THE AREA. THE NATIONAL GUARD IS HELPING CONTAIN THE PERIMETER,” the news anchors explained.

“Riots?” I whispered, forgetting Dan was on the phone.

“THROUGHOUT THE DAY WE’LL BE TESTING THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEMS TO KEEP YOU INFORMED IN THE EVENT OF ANY POTENTIAL DANGER. IN THAT EVENT WE’LL GO TO THE EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEMS. AS OF RIGHT NOW THESE ARE ONLY A TEST. ” The anchors continued, “WE WILL STICK WITH OUR COVERAGE TEAM AND KEEP YOU INFORMED AS THE STORY DEVELOPS.”

“Honey, come home… or try to come home early. Don’t stick around at work today,” I begged him.

“The reports are saying it’s contained, babe. But sure, I’ll come straight home today,” he said with a slight air of dismissal in his voice.

I know this tone. He’ll tell me whatever I want to hear so I stop complaining, and he doesn’t have to listen to, what he considers, my nonsense. The conversation was otherwise silent with both of us focused on the situation in the city.

This was my worst fear. Something major happens while we were in different areas of the city and separated from each other. I always thought we should have a plan for a natural disaster or breakdown in civilization. Being on opposite sides of the city fighting traffic jams on a regular day sucked, traffic jams where the entire population is running away would be hell. Everyone talks about being prepared; I doubt anyone ever truly is.

Dan and I both had our families in the area. His parents were just over the hill from us, both enjoying retirement. My parents have passed away, but I have a sister who lived close by with her husband and two-year-old child.

“I’m going to call my sister and see if they went to work,” I told Dan, and hung up.

My sister, Melody, didn’t pick up the phone. That wasn’t unusual given the frantic nature of working at a movie studio.

I left her a short message. “Hey, it’s me, just curious if you saw the news downtown. Call me back.”

I’m an obsessive news junkie, and I knew that nothing would take me from the TV or my computer when there were violent riots taking place only twenty minutes away.

Most video and images accompanying the reports were taken from news helicopters that were being kept at a distance so as not to interfere with police choppers on the scene. Images on the ground were taken from outside the barricades and away from the actual action. Residents in the area were posting their own pictures from their windows on social media websites but nothing with any real substance. Besides, everything on the ground in the area is storefronts, and most of them were already out of business and boarded up. Housing typically began several floors up in those buildings.

As the afternoon continued, not many details came out of downtown. The reporters just kept repeating the same message: “DOWNTOWN LA NEIGHBORHOODS HAVE BEEN ZONED OFF. MILITARY AND POLICE ARE WORKING TOGETHER ON THE SCENE. RESIDENTS ARE BEING ASKED TO STAY IN THEIR HOMES AND KEEP THE DOORS LOCKED. THE RIOTS ARE CENTERED IN THE SKID ROW AREA. THROUGHOUT THE DAY WE’LL BE BROADCASTING EBS BUT IT IS ONLY A TEST.”

I spent the next few hours switching between TV channels and my standard news sites.  After a while, the investigator in me took hold and I started to scan some of the alternative, crackpot “news” sites. I can always count on these sites to turn a legitimate story into an entertaining conspiracy theory. The funny part is that they never agree on the conspiracy.  Sometimes it is a left wing conspiracy, sometimes a right.  Hell, sometimes it is an alien conspiracy!  But that day, they all shared a common theme.  A new, low cost drug was fueling the insanity downtown.  Bath Salts were somehow the cause.

The use of Bath Salts as a drug had only been around for about a year now, and not a lot was known about their physical effects. Among the mish-mash of reports from the drug underground, it was reported that Bath Salts, when ingested, caused the user to slow down in terms of their thought and movement but almost ironically delivered near superhuman strengths – apparently due to a boost in adrenaline levels.