“Fucker!” Blankenship cried, before passing out in Henry’s grasp. Henry continued to chew and gnaw on the officer’s neck and shoulder, swallowing each bite of flesh that he chomped off. When Henry had his fill, he dropped the limp officer to the floor.
Though everyone in the cafeteria had leapt from their seats and bedlam was setting in, Nolan couldn’t hear anything besides his own heartbeat. He wondered if he had spontaneously gone deaf.
Chloe grabbed him by the shoulders and hollered something. Nolan couldn’t help but stare at her, glazed over and unable to read her lips.
“Let’s go,” Chloe begged, shaking her friend forcefully.
Nolan sat, unable to move.
“Nolan what’s wrong with you? Let’s go!” Chloe continued to rattle her friend.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nolan watched Henry pull himself through the cafeteria doors. Shards of glass stuck out of his skin. Blankenship lay on the tiled floor beside the doorway. A pool of blood grew from beneath him.
“Nolan, Jesus!” Chloe bit her lip then pulled her hand back. After a short hesitation she slapped Nolan square across his face.
Nolan felt his face turn warm and suddenly heard a growing roar, like a hive of bees had been let loose in his head. The buzzing grew and grew until it was replaced by screams, hollering, and Chloe’s desperate voice.
“Nolan, can you hear me?” Chloe asked, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
“Yuh—yeah,” Nolan said, feeling like he might throw up. “Yeah. What’s going on?”
“Fuck, Nolan, you checked out. We have to go!”
Students were running around chaotically in all different directions.
Nolan said, “Okay. We’re going. Let’s go. Where are we going?”
Chloe stood up and yanked Nolan by his sleeve. “Just follow me for now.”
Nolan stumbled along behind Chloe as they made their way through the crowd of students. Some dared to pass Henry and ran out of the cafeteria doors. Others had started to roam the halls of Henderson High, anxious to find sanctuary.
“Here,” Chloe said, pushing Nolan into the chemistry lab. Jared and Rachel, who Chloe hadn’t realized were also following her, ducked into the lab behind them.
Chloe slammed the door shut behind her, and locked it.
Rachel and Jared collapsed to the floor, breathless. Jared’s hands were still cuffed in front of him. Chloe slid down the locked door until she was sitting in front of it. The sound of stomping, racing footsteps flooded the hall behind her.
Nolan took a seat at a desk on the far side of the room. He looked out over the hills of East Violet; every few minutes a helicopter would pass by on the horizon. Once, a military jet flew over. Little fires grew in the distance. Nolan watched them flicker and swell, so hypnotized by them that he could barely hear the pounding knocks on the classroom door behind him.
“Residents in New York City and southeast New York State are urged to remain indoors,” the talking head on Dana’s television set said, “and to only leave their homes if absolutely necessary. Be aware that travel bans have been put into effect in the following counties: Suffolk, Nassau, Queens, Kings, Richmond, New York, Bronx, Rockland, Westchester, Putnam, Orange, Dutchess, Sullivan, Ulster, and Columbia. Please understand that emergency services may be severely delayed in these affected areas as we head into the afternoon.”
According to the news reports, all of the violence and all of the mayhem throughout New York was not random. Those who were going crazy, frothing at the mouth, ill with madness…they had all succumbed to the will of some nightmarish virus. Rumors concerning the source of the virus ran rampant across cable news networks. Over the course of an hour spent watching various news programs, Dana became convinced that anything from her tap water to her particular brand of deodorant might cause her to have a sudden craving for human flesh.
Dana sat on her couch, her legs crisscrossed, and continued to watch the news with Elliott. The pup had curled up between her legs and fallen asleep while Dana played with her phone. Reception was spotty and she had no luck making phone calls all morning. She was nervous, afraid, and unsure of what to do.
With her Internet being her most reliable source of communication, Dana decided to peck out some emails to her family from her phone.
“Mom—just want to make sure you’re inside and safe. Things are getting crazy here. I wasn’t allowed into my school this morning. East Violet is under lock down; news says that the National Guard will be coming into town to assist evacuations. They mentioned relocating us to Albany. Phone is not reliable, but hopefully we can meet up once they pull us out. I love you. Stay safe. I’m fine.”
“Mia. I’ve tried texting you all morning with no luck. I can’t get in touch with mom or dad, either. If you talk to them, let them know I’m fine and I’m thinking of them. Are you on campus? Are you with mom? Stay inside and safe. Keep trying me.”
“Dad—I wish you were here. I don’t know what’s going on with all of these people getting sick. I’m scared. You would know what to do in times like this. I’ve tried calling. I can’t get through to you or Mia or Mom. They’re not letting anyone in or out of East Violet. They’re telling us to stay inside until the National Guard pulls us out. They’re talking about putting us in Albany after. I’ll have my phone. I’ll keep trying to get ahold of you and let you know where I am. I love you.”
After all three emails had successfully sent, Dana leaned back into her couch cushion and sighed. Sending her father an email made her recall a particularly bad snowstorm when she was a child. Her and Mia missed three days of school, the first two of which were spent without power. Her dad had tirelessly prepared for the storm in the days leading up to it—water, firewood, batteries, kerosene, and canned goods were all bought in abundance. Her family had plenty of supplies stashed away and the lot rode out the storm like royalty. In a blizzard that left three dead, Dana and Mia spent seventy-two hours blissfully free from school, bundled up in front of the fireplace playing Monopoly with their parents.
The images of that childhood storm still fresh in her mind, Dana uncrossed her legs and stood up from the couch. Elliott woke up and followed her to the kitchen, where she inspected the inside of her pantry for the first time all morning.
The pantry had a sparse amount of food. A few soup cans here and there, a small bag of rice. A taco kit that expired about six months earlier.
The fridge didn’t offer anything too promising, either. There was a paper bag with left over Thai food—a dish of Volcano Chicken
if Dana remembered right—that had surely spoiled. It was the last reminder of an awful blind date she went on a week back. The date sucked, but the lightly fried chicken dish was fantastic, and though Dana never intended to call Mitch (or whatever his name was) back again, she
did
intend to finish the Thai food. She suddenly felt terrible for forgetting about it.
Other than her leftovers, there were a few bottles of vitamin water, a quart of milk, and some cranberry juice scattered throughout the fridge. In the far back were a few cans of coconut water. A friend from Dana’s yoga class had given them to her.
“Doesn’t exactly scream ‘prepared for a natural disaster,’ does it?” Dana asked Elliott. Elliott, glad for the attention, stuck out his tongue and started to pant.
Dana looked at her watch, then peeked out her heavy dining room drapes. The sidewalks were mostly empty. She figured if she was going to be stuck in the house, she wasn’t prepared at all. There wasn’t much food or water, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to drink from her faucet, whether she boiled the water or not. Judging by the day she had so far, the Thai Palace wouldn’t be delivering anytime soon, either.
Just then, her television set cut from the channel five news to black and silence. A moment later, a dreadful dial tone screeched through the flat screen’s speakers. After several blips and beeps, a boxy gray text appeared in the center of the blank screen.
“The Emergency Action Notification System Has Been Initiated. Please Standby for Further Instruction.”
Dana slowly shut her pantry door and returned to her sofa. Elliott trailed his master back to the living room and curled up on the floor in front of her feet.
A siren went screaming down the street outside of her apartment. A short moment of silence, and then a second siren. And a third.
A strange, male voice popped from the television speakers and interrupted the wailing vehicles passing by outside.
“This is an Emergency Action Notification requested by the White House. All broadcast stations and cable systems shall transmit this Emergency Action Notification Message following activation procedures for a national level emergency. The President of the United States, or his representative, will shortly deliver a message over the Emergency Alert System.”
Dana reached down for Elliott, picked him up, and stuffed him between her crossed legs. She nervously rubbed his belly as the faceless voice continued on.
“During this emergency, most stations will remain on the air providing news and information to the public in assigned areas. This is WKXV New York. We will continue to serve the Upstate New York Region. If you are not in this local area, you should tune to stations providing news and information for your local area.
“Do not use your telephone. The telephone lines should be kept open for emergency use. The Emergency Alert System has been activated.”
Dana gulped as the message began to loop on repeat. “The White House?” she asked Elliott.
Mid-loop the automated message ended, and her screen switched from black to that of a podium with a blue backdrop behind it. On either side of the podium was an American flag. Behind the podium was a placard, emblazoned with a photo of the nation’s capitol.
Dana watched with feverish curiosity as a thin, unfamiliar man approached the lectern.
“Good morning ladies and gentleman,” the man said, “my name is Press Secretary Stephen Hurst and I will be speaking to those of you here, and those at home as well, on behalf of the President. We kindly ask that the press save all questions until the end of this statement, as there is some important information we need to convey to all of those who are able to hear this broadcast.
“This morning, local law enforcement agencies across several counties in New York State responded to an unusually high number of violent incidents. These incidents appear to have started simultaneously and have been reported as far north as Ulster county and as far south as Suffolk.
“The cause of these violent outbreaks has yet to be positively determined. As of 9:00 a.m. this morning, National Guard units have been mobilized to assist local law enforcement’s response to these outbreaks in all areas that have been reporting them.
“For our national audience, please be aware that all domestic and international flights have been grounded. Travel across the northern border into and out of Canada has been restricted, as well as travel to and from Mexico through our southern border.
“To those of you watching and listening who reside specifically in Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and the District of Colombia, please be aware of the following precautions. A boil water advisory has been put into effect statewide in your location. Do not bathe, brush your teeth, or cook with untreated water. Make sure that any tap water needed is boiled for one-minute prior to use.
“Additionally, we urge you to stay indoors until this matter is resolved. Do not answer your door for anyone you are unfamiliar with, and if any law enforcement officer attempts to enter your home, ensure that they have proper identification.
“If you encounter anyone who is exhibiting the following symptoms: unresponsiveness, violent behavior, a pallid complexion, bleeding from orifices such as the eyes, nose, and ears, and an inability to communicate, please report them to your local law enforcement agency immediately and avoid contact with said person at all costs.
“Please ration food and water in a way that ensures it lasts five to seven days.
“If you have any more questions, a hotline has been established that will be given at the end of this broadcast. Now, I’ll take several short questions. In the interest of brevity I can take no more than three before calling an end to this press conference.”
A voice immediately piped up before Secretary Hurst could finish the word “conference.”
“Yes, Mr. Hurst. Dan Goodman from CNN News—where is the President right now, and why was he not the one who gave this address?”
“Sure, Mr. Goodman. I cannot speculate or comment on the location of the President. I can tell you that we met this morning. He informed me of his confidence in me to deliver this address.”
“Mr. Hurst, Samantha Janes, NBC news—you mentioned that those in the affected areas should remain indoors. There have been several reports from in and around New York City stating that the city has already begun evacuation procedures, with National Guardsmen rounding up residents block by block and escorting them to evacuation points. Would you care to comment?”
“Miss Janes, I cannot comment on any military action that is or is not occurring right now. To those listening in the affected areas, I would urge you to follow our recommendation to stay indoors. If a law enforcement agency, National Guard unit, or any other type of U.S. military unit approaches your home or neighborhood, make sure that they are properly identified as such and exhibit the credentials of such an agency. No one can force you to leave your home, but if such an agency should approach you and advise you of any evacuation efforts, it is the opinion of the White House that you should follow those orders diligently.”
“Mr. Hurst, Rebecca Claire, FOX News—some law enforcement reports have described the brutal murders sweeping the North East this morning as random, while others have noted that their simultaneous timing may hint at a more insidious and coordinated attack. As more reports continue to flood in, is the White House prepared to label this mornings slayings as an ‘Act of Terrorism?’”
“Miss Claire, the government is not prepared to classify this mornings events as terrorism.”
Dana watched the thin Press Secretary step back from behind his podium and exit stage right. A flurry of camera clicks and questions rang out in the room and the camera feed switched back to the morning news. The local anchors were waiting on standby to discuss and analyze the secretary’s brief statement.
“It’s unusual that we did not hear from the president himself, is it not?” A female host asked from her desk.
Across the table, a neatly dressed man with salt and pepper hair answered. “It sure is, Patricia. I think it’s even more interesting that Secretary Hurst didn’t acknowledge something we’ve known for several hours now—which is, all of those who have exhibited violent aggressiveness, every single one, has been identified as testing positive for this highly communicable virus—”
Dana thought for a moment, bothered by the news anchors’ commentary. There was no doubt that a virus was spreading. So why hadn’t it been mentioned at all during the press conference?
Unless that press conference was pre-recorded…
Dana wondered.
Suddenly, Dana felt shivers run through her.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
She picked up Elliott and set him on the floor in front of the sofa. Once more, she returned to her kitchen. This time, she started to comb through her freezer like a maniac. She was desperate to find anything that hinted at her being able to stay comfortably at home for the next few days. She dreaded the thought of having to venture past her front door again. Dana could picture it already—strangers attacking one another, shoppers climbing over each other for the last can of soup, cops at every intersection harassing her over her outdated driver’s license. It would be a nightmare.
In the freezer was a small, gluten-free frozen pizza. On top of that was an ice-cube tray and a pint of
Ben’n’Jerry’s,
the kind with the little chocolate fish. Beside that were a few pieces of frozen chicken breast, some frozen carrots, and a lengthy flank of salmon.