Original Stories Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction ❯ Plague 11: The Outbreak ❯ The City ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Writer7171 
John and Trent decide to head into the city. The plan doesn't bode well for them upon arrival.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Post-apocalyptic / Horror / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 04.10.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 298 | Status: Completed
John and Trent decide to head into the city. The plan doesn't bode well for them upon arrival.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Post-apocalyptic / Horror / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 04.10.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 298 | Status: Completed
Chapter 2: The City
John and Trent cruised across the road in Trent's car. They weren't so cautious now. Since the death of their friend, Luis, they had tried their best to hit as many zombies on the roads as possible. The entire hood of the car was covered in blood and guts. Trent's eyes lowered on the gas meter. It was almost empty. He turned to John who stared out the window. "We need to stop." Trent said.
"Where?" John asked.
"We have to get gas. We'll be dry really soon." Trent explained.
John and Trent argued for a while over stopping and how dangerous it was to get out of the car with the monsters walking around. Finally they resolved the matter. After a half a mile, they stopped at an older gas station. John and Trent stepped out and took their positions. "I'll go in there and turn the pump on. Just be ready to run." John said, heading to the station, bat in hand.
With a powerful swing, John shattered the window and jumped in. He looked around the store until he saw the cashier counter. As he neared it, a figure rose. It was the now decaying, zombie-like cashier. He jumped over the counter and lunged at John. John stepped back and swung the bat hard. It struck the cashier in the head and splintered into a jagged edge. The cashier stumbled back and fell to the floor. John ran at him and stabbed the wooden handle into the head, killing him.
Trent looked at the building. He called to John. "Hey! What's the deal, man? Turn the gas on!"
John jumped over the counter and found the gas pump switches. He looked out the window and saw it was pump number 6. He flipped switch 6 and looked back at the cashier. Then it hit him. How did he become a zombie in the first place? He was suddenly filled with fear. Quickly, he started looking around for anything that could be used as a weapon.
Trent stood at the pump, filling his car. He looked around the parking lot. Not a single person was around. He was beginning to think that they were the only survivors. Trent turned back to the car and saw a person walk out of the trees. He crossed the car and took a better look. His hopes were smashed when he saw her eyes, which were white, and a large bite mark on her shin. He pulled the gun and pointed it at her. One shot rang off, the bullet splattering her head apart. The echo rang out and killed the silence. Trent stepped back, but stepped short, bumping into the car. A shrill, loud, and constant alarm sounded off and filled the air. In the distance, Trent heard a howl. Oh crap..., he thought.
John searched the counter all over. Nothing was there. He hopped over the counter and made his way to the door. The sound of the car alarm caught his ear. He looked outside. Trent looked at him. "John! We have to go, now! Come on!" he yelled.
John jumped out of the store and ran to the car. Suddenlly, a swarm of zombies appeared, running and limping toward the parking lot. John ran to the car but was cut short as something behind him grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. He turned and saw a zombie, which he figured was the one that was inside. He tried to pull away, but fell to the ground. The zombie follow and started biting at his neck. John tried to push off the monster as best as he could. He heard Trent's voice. "John! Get flat!"
John layed back as flat as he could. Trent's car slammed into the zombie, caving its head into the rest of its body. John rolled out from under the car and jumped inside the vehicle. Trent turned the car around and the drove off, smashing into a number of people in their way. John looked back at the zombies. He let out a sigh of relief. "Well that was close." he said.
After an hour of driving, a thought popped into John's head. He turned to Trent. "Hey, I think I know where we can go. What if we head to the police station my dad works in? There are guns there and it's a lot safer than the car. What do you think?" John offered.
"That's a good plan, but we'd have to go toward the city. And there's probably more there than there are here. It'd almost be a suicide mission." Trent replied.
"Well where else should we go? The police station is the smartest place to go. You won't regret it." John assured his friend.
Trent turned onto the highway and the two survivors made their way toward the Hunton City. Not long after getting on the highway, did John see a large sign. It read: Welcome to Hunton City, Colorado- The State's Most Friendly City! But the sign was very misleading in these circumstances. John and Trent drove by smoldering buildings, more corpses, cars, and after five minutes of driving into the city, the hordes of zombies become very apparent. John looked at the deadly creatures. One by one they noticed the car. Then, one by one, they made a mad dash for it. Trent cursed aloud as the zombies attacked his car. John reached for the bags and turned to Trent. "Trent, we have to go. The car won't hold. We just need to make it to that building right there." John said, pointing to a small antique shop right on the other side of the road. It was the closest store.
"No. We're not leaving the car. No way in hell." Trent said.
"Now's not the time to be stubborn! Come on!" John said, grabbing the gun. He pulled the bags forward and reached for the door. "Trent! We need to go! Please!" John said.
The car shook intensely, back and forth. The zombies yanked at the mirrors and anything they could pull. John grabbed Trent's shoulder and pulled him. "Let's go!" he yelled again.
Trent gave an angry yell. "I knew we shouldn't have come into the city! Damn it!" he yelled.
"Good enough for me. Come on!" John replied.
The pair jumped out of the car fast and ran to the antique store. John shot at the zombies as they followed them. He was getting better at aiming the gun and could hit them in the head easier. Blood surged from their heads as John unloaded the clip on the monsters. He kept running as the loud blasts turned into empty clicks. Trent reached the door and yanked it open. John ran inside and Trent followed as well. Jusrt as the door was sliding closed, a single zombie flew through the opening and crashed onto the floor inside. Trent slammed the door closed as John reloaded the pistol. The zombie ran at John making horrid noises. John shot twice, missing once and hitting him in the chest. The zombie faltered and John sent a third shot into its head.
They rested quickly as the people outside slammed on the shatter-proof glass. John breathed heavily as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He pulled the clip from his gun and check how much ammo he had left. It was the last clip and they only had five bullets left. He slapped the clip back into the gun and stood up. Trent located a light switch and flipped it on. The room lit up brightly. There were shelves all around, each stacked with old pots, lamps, and utensils. Trent moved to the counter and looked around the area. He slid under the counter and looked at the many signs on the wall.
A single sign caught his eye. It read: Shoplifters Will Be Punished Severely. Trent looked at more signs and then back toward the shelves. Something black and smooth caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a large, pump-action shotgun. "Oh nice!" he called out.
John walked up to the counter. "Where the hell did you find that?" he asked.
"It was just here. I guess the old shop keeper really hated shoplifters." Trent said, checking out the new weapon.
He checked the loadout. It held ten shells and a box with twelve more shells was set next to it. A noise came from the back. John turned and drew his gun. Trent started loading the shotgun. He jumped over the counter and braced himself. John and Trent walked slowly to the back, guns drawn. John saw a figure walking towards them. He stepped forward. "Are you human?" he called to them.
He waited for a second. Then an answer came. "Yes." it said. It sounded like a girl.
Trent and John walked over to her. She walked out of the dark corner. "My name is Lauren. Who are you guys?" she asked.
"My name's John Thompson. This is my friend Trent. We're from a small section of town way on the other side of the city. We're the only survivors, to our knowledge." John explained.
The group talked for a while. Lauren explained that she worked in the shop and had been sealed off from the city by the zombies. She didn't have any rations and her phone didn't work at the moment. John and Trent opened the bags, revealing food and water. They also had matches, knives, some rope, and other useful items. They would be set for at least a day. But they had to escape. John told Lauren of their failed plan to get to the police station.
"Really? The station? It's only five blocks west. We could find a way over there." Lauren explained.
John checked around the store. He noticed a hatch, leading to the roof. He, Trent, and Lauren made their way onto the roof and looked below. Crowds of zombies littered the streets. As John looked around for any signs of help, Trent turned to Lauren. "So, how old are you?" he asked nonchelantly.
Lauren gave him a weird look and rolled her eyes. "I'm nineteen. How about you?" she said.
"Me and John are eighteen. We just graduated, so-" Trent was cut off. John had called them over. He showed them an alley way across the street that was empty and a much larger building to go into, via a back door. "We have to get over there." John said.
They returned to the shop and looked around. There had to be some way of getting to the other side safely. With only a few bits of ammunition, they couldn't protect themselves for long. And five city blocks was too far with such a small defense. John returned to the roof. He scoped out the street. Below, the undead clawed as high as they could. After almost an hour of trying to find a safe way, John settled in for a rest. Trent was still wandering around the store. He noticed a can of bug spray sitting on a table in the back room. Then it hit him. He grabbed the can and rushed back to the main room. "I've got it!" he exclaimed.
John stood up and looked at him in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? You got a plan?" he asked.
"Yeah," Trent began, "We can take this spray and the matches and scare those dead freaks away with fire! I've seen these movies. Zombies always go down in fire. We just need to light them up."
"That does sound like a good plan. I think we should take this opportunity. What do you think, John?" Lauren said.
John nodded. The team gathered all their supplies and stood at the door way. Outside, tons of the undead zombies clammered at the windows, smudging it with blood and dirt. John pulled out a large box of matches and handed them to Trent. John passed the pistol to Lauren and took over the shotgun. Lauren turn the lock on the door sideways, causing the locking mechanism to click open. John kicked the door as hard as he could, sending it flying open and knocking a few zombies back. "Now, Trent!" he yelled.
Trent struck a bunch of matches. They ignited into a glorious flame. He then pressed the button on the can, shooting the bug spray directly into the fire. In an instant, a huge fireball roared into the crowd of zombies. As they caught fire, the let out a shrieking noise and stumbled away, some slowly falling to the ground. John, Trent, and Lauren ran out into the street, moving as fast as they could. As zombies ran up, Lauren took aim and shot them square in the head. John turned and fired a powerful buckshot into another creature. Trent flicked more matches and sent another flurry of fire into the path of the zombies. Finally, they reached the alley way. Lauren ran in first, followed by Trent, and then John. She tugged at the door, but to no avail. The zombies closed in on the alley. Trent blasted more fire at them, holding them off. John turned to the door and aimed the shotgun at the lock. The spraying sound of the can died slowly, and the flame withered to nothing.
John cocked the gun and fired a powerful blast into the lock. Lauren pulled it open and the three ran inside. They ran through another doorway, slamming the door behind them. There was a simple press lock, but that wouldn't be able to hold for long. John looked around. It was an office building. They took a desk and shoved it into the door, barracading it. Slams and knocks came from the other side, cuppled with moans and grunts from the zombies. John turned around and looked at the office. It was a lackluster building with real enitising attributes. They made their way through the building. In the front, there was a waiting area with a receptionist desk and a set of stairs leading to a second floor.
Trent sat down on a chair in the waiting area. A few zombies clammered at the front door and windows. They all breathed with exhaustion, taking a short rest. John loaded two knew shells into the shotgun. Lauren handed him the pistol on his request. John pulled out the clip. He sighed in frustration. "We only have three shots on the pistol left. That's great. Enough to blow all our brains out." he said.
They traveled up the stairs. There was still nothing. The whole building was deserted. John picked up a phone at one of the desks. He listened for a dial tone, but to no avail. Trent checked the bags again. In the rush, John had left his cell phone at the house, and it seemed that Trent had misplaced his as well. Trent looked at Lauren. "Do you have a cell phone?" he asked.
"I had it for a while in the antique shop. But after a few hours, it died. I guess I forgot to charge it last night." Lauren said bluntly.
John walked across the room to a mounted television set. He pressed the power button and held his breathe. The set beeped to life and a picture appeared on the screen. It was channel 4 and it had an emergency public notice that read: PLEASE WAIT FOR FURTHER COVERAGE. John pressed another button and the picture changed to a man at a desk. He turned up the volume and pulled a chair over. Trent and Lauren walked over and stared at the t.v. The man was wearing a suit and sat at a desk in front of a "Channel 5 News" sign.
"...the number could be anywhere in the thousands." he said. "If you are just now joining us, we, here at Channel 5 are bringing you around the clock coverage of the events transpiring on this horrid day. As I just stated, the death tolls are said to be in the very high thousands, yet this is only an early estimation. The National Guard has been dispatched across the nation to help in the defense against this new threat. Starting tomorrow, safety camps will be set up. Any and all survivors are urged to go to the nearest camp. These locations will be broadcast later. I... I am just now recieving word that a group of doctors and scientists working at Harvard Medical have uncovered some information on the infected humans. I have a list of precautions here and will now read them to you. Do not approach the creatures. These people are easily provoked and when provoked, display immense physical endurance. Next, after close inspection, it has been confirmed that the infected humans will only die after serious trauma to the head. This includes any form a gunshot, impact, or even decapitation. The last note left from our sources is listed as urgent and very important. The infection that has been plaguing our country has been confirmed to be transmuted through bite. If one is bitten, the victem will succumb to the wound, followed by death and immediate reanimation. It is believed that the rate of change in any individual victim is dependent on the severity of the bite. If anyone is bitten, no cure is, at this moment, available. We, once again, urge all viewers to seek shelter and wait for help. Hopefully, we will reciever some news on-"
John turned the set off. He looked out a nearby window into the crowed street. It was getting late and the sun was setting. "Let's get some rest. In the morning, we'll figure out a way to the police station. I don't think any National Guard squads will reach us in time. And I sure as hell am not staying in here forever. We'll get to the station. I'll make sure we do."
John and Trent cruised across the road in Trent's car. They weren't so cautious now. Since the death of their friend, Luis, they had tried their best to hit as many zombies on the roads as possible. The entire hood of the car was covered in blood and guts. Trent's eyes lowered on the gas meter. It was almost empty. He turned to John who stared out the window. "We need to stop." Trent said.
"Where?" John asked.
"We have to get gas. We'll be dry really soon." Trent explained.
John and Trent argued for a while over stopping and how dangerous it was to get out of the car with the monsters walking around. Finally they resolved the matter. After a half a mile, they stopped at an older gas station. John and Trent stepped out and took their positions. "I'll go in there and turn the pump on. Just be ready to run." John said, heading to the station, bat in hand.
With a powerful swing, John shattered the window and jumped in. He looked around the store until he saw the cashier counter. As he neared it, a figure rose. It was the now decaying, zombie-like cashier. He jumped over the counter and lunged at John. John stepped back and swung the bat hard. It struck the cashier in the head and splintered into a jagged edge. The cashier stumbled back and fell to the floor. John ran at him and stabbed the wooden handle into the head, killing him.
Trent looked at the building. He called to John. "Hey! What's the deal, man? Turn the gas on!"
John jumped over the counter and found the gas pump switches. He looked out the window and saw it was pump number 6. He flipped switch 6 and looked back at the cashier. Then it hit him. How did he become a zombie in the first place? He was suddenly filled with fear. Quickly, he started looking around for anything that could be used as a weapon.
Trent stood at the pump, filling his car. He looked around the parking lot. Not a single person was around. He was beginning to think that they were the only survivors. Trent turned back to the car and saw a person walk out of the trees. He crossed the car and took a better look. His hopes were smashed when he saw her eyes, which were white, and a large bite mark on her shin. He pulled the gun and pointed it at her. One shot rang off, the bullet splattering her head apart. The echo rang out and killed the silence. Trent stepped back, but stepped short, bumping into the car. A shrill, loud, and constant alarm sounded off and filled the air. In the distance, Trent heard a howl. Oh crap..., he thought.
John searched the counter all over. Nothing was there. He hopped over the counter and made his way to the door. The sound of the car alarm caught his ear. He looked outside. Trent looked at him. "John! We have to go, now! Come on!" he yelled.
John jumped out of the store and ran to the car. Suddenlly, a swarm of zombies appeared, running and limping toward the parking lot. John ran to the car but was cut short as something behind him grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. He turned and saw a zombie, which he figured was the one that was inside. He tried to pull away, but fell to the ground. The zombie follow and started biting at his neck. John tried to push off the monster as best as he could. He heard Trent's voice. "John! Get flat!"
John layed back as flat as he could. Trent's car slammed into the zombie, caving its head into the rest of its body. John rolled out from under the car and jumped inside the vehicle. Trent turned the car around and the drove off, smashing into a number of people in their way. John looked back at the zombies. He let out a sigh of relief. "Well that was close." he said.
After an hour of driving, a thought popped into John's head. He turned to Trent. "Hey, I think I know where we can go. What if we head to the police station my dad works in? There are guns there and it's a lot safer than the car. What do you think?" John offered.
"That's a good plan, but we'd have to go toward the city. And there's probably more there than there are here. It'd almost be a suicide mission." Trent replied.
"Well where else should we go? The police station is the smartest place to go. You won't regret it." John assured his friend.
Trent turned onto the highway and the two survivors made their way toward the Hunton City. Not long after getting on the highway, did John see a large sign. It read: Welcome to Hunton City, Colorado- The State's Most Friendly City! But the sign was very misleading in these circumstances. John and Trent drove by smoldering buildings, more corpses, cars, and after five minutes of driving into the city, the hordes of zombies become very apparent. John looked at the deadly creatures. One by one they noticed the car. Then, one by one, they made a mad dash for it. Trent cursed aloud as the zombies attacked his car. John reached for the bags and turned to Trent. "Trent, we have to go. The car won't hold. We just need to make it to that building right there." John said, pointing to a small antique shop right on the other side of the road. It was the closest store.
"No. We're not leaving the car. No way in hell." Trent said.
"Now's not the time to be stubborn! Come on!" John said, grabbing the gun. He pulled the bags forward and reached for the door. "Trent! We need to go! Please!" John said.
The car shook intensely, back and forth. The zombies yanked at the mirrors and anything they could pull. John grabbed Trent's shoulder and pulled him. "Let's go!" he yelled again.
Trent gave an angry yell. "I knew we shouldn't have come into the city! Damn it!" he yelled.
"Good enough for me. Come on!" John replied.
The pair jumped out of the car fast and ran to the antique store. John shot at the zombies as they followed them. He was getting better at aiming the gun and could hit them in the head easier. Blood surged from their heads as John unloaded the clip on the monsters. He kept running as the loud blasts turned into empty clicks. Trent reached the door and yanked it open. John ran inside and Trent followed as well. Jusrt as the door was sliding closed, a single zombie flew through the opening and crashed onto the floor inside. Trent slammed the door closed as John reloaded the pistol. The zombie ran at John making horrid noises. John shot twice, missing once and hitting him in the chest. The zombie faltered and John sent a third shot into its head.
They rested quickly as the people outside slammed on the shatter-proof glass. John breathed heavily as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He pulled the clip from his gun and check how much ammo he had left. It was the last clip and they only had five bullets left. He slapped the clip back into the gun and stood up. Trent located a light switch and flipped it on. The room lit up brightly. There were shelves all around, each stacked with old pots, lamps, and utensils. Trent moved to the counter and looked around the area. He slid under the counter and looked at the many signs on the wall.
A single sign caught his eye. It read: Shoplifters Will Be Punished Severely. Trent looked at more signs and then back toward the shelves. Something black and smooth caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a large, pump-action shotgun. "Oh nice!" he called out.
John walked up to the counter. "Where the hell did you find that?" he asked.
"It was just here. I guess the old shop keeper really hated shoplifters." Trent said, checking out the new weapon.
He checked the loadout. It held ten shells and a box with twelve more shells was set next to it. A noise came from the back. John turned and drew his gun. Trent started loading the shotgun. He jumped over the counter and braced himself. John and Trent walked slowly to the back, guns drawn. John saw a figure walking towards them. He stepped forward. "Are you human?" he called to them.
He waited for a second. Then an answer came. "Yes." it said. It sounded like a girl.
Trent and John walked over to her. She walked out of the dark corner. "My name is Lauren. Who are you guys?" she asked.
"My name's John Thompson. This is my friend Trent. We're from a small section of town way on the other side of the city. We're the only survivors, to our knowledge." John explained.
The group talked for a while. Lauren explained that she worked in the shop and had been sealed off from the city by the zombies. She didn't have any rations and her phone didn't work at the moment. John and Trent opened the bags, revealing food and water. They also had matches, knives, some rope, and other useful items. They would be set for at least a day. But they had to escape. John told Lauren of their failed plan to get to the police station.
"Really? The station? It's only five blocks west. We could find a way over there." Lauren explained.
John checked around the store. He noticed a hatch, leading to the roof. He, Trent, and Lauren made their way onto the roof and looked below. Crowds of zombies littered the streets. As John looked around for any signs of help, Trent turned to Lauren. "So, how old are you?" he asked nonchelantly.
Lauren gave him a weird look and rolled her eyes. "I'm nineteen. How about you?" she said.
"Me and John are eighteen. We just graduated, so-" Trent was cut off. John had called them over. He showed them an alley way across the street that was empty and a much larger building to go into, via a back door. "We have to get over there." John said.
They returned to the shop and looked around. There had to be some way of getting to the other side safely. With only a few bits of ammunition, they couldn't protect themselves for long. And five city blocks was too far with such a small defense. John returned to the roof. He scoped out the street. Below, the undead clawed as high as they could. After almost an hour of trying to find a safe way, John settled in for a rest. Trent was still wandering around the store. He noticed a can of bug spray sitting on a table in the back room. Then it hit him. He grabbed the can and rushed back to the main room. "I've got it!" he exclaimed.
John stood up and looked at him in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? You got a plan?" he asked.
"Yeah," Trent began, "We can take this spray and the matches and scare those dead freaks away with fire! I've seen these movies. Zombies always go down in fire. We just need to light them up."
"That does sound like a good plan. I think we should take this opportunity. What do you think, John?" Lauren said.
John nodded. The team gathered all their supplies and stood at the door way. Outside, tons of the undead zombies clammered at the windows, smudging it with blood and dirt. John pulled out a large box of matches and handed them to Trent. John passed the pistol to Lauren and took over the shotgun. Lauren turn the lock on the door sideways, causing the locking mechanism to click open. John kicked the door as hard as he could, sending it flying open and knocking a few zombies back. "Now, Trent!" he yelled.
Trent struck a bunch of matches. They ignited into a glorious flame. He then pressed the button on the can, shooting the bug spray directly into the fire. In an instant, a huge fireball roared into the crowd of zombies. As they caught fire, the let out a shrieking noise and stumbled away, some slowly falling to the ground. John, Trent, and Lauren ran out into the street, moving as fast as they could. As zombies ran up, Lauren took aim and shot them square in the head. John turned and fired a powerful buckshot into another creature. Trent flicked more matches and sent another flurry of fire into the path of the zombies. Finally, they reached the alley way. Lauren ran in first, followed by Trent, and then John. She tugged at the door, but to no avail. The zombies closed in on the alley. Trent blasted more fire at them, holding them off. John turned to the door and aimed the shotgun at the lock. The spraying sound of the can died slowly, and the flame withered to nothing.
John cocked the gun and fired a powerful blast into the lock. Lauren pulled it open and the three ran inside. They ran through another doorway, slamming the door behind them. There was a simple press lock, but that wouldn't be able to hold for long. John looked around. It was an office building. They took a desk and shoved it into the door, barracading it. Slams and knocks came from the other side, cuppled with moans and grunts from the zombies. John turned around and looked at the office. It was a lackluster building with real enitising attributes. They made their way through the building. In the front, there was a waiting area with a receptionist desk and a set of stairs leading to a second floor.
Trent sat down on a chair in the waiting area. A few zombies clammered at the front door and windows. They all breathed with exhaustion, taking a short rest. John loaded two knew shells into the shotgun. Lauren handed him the pistol on his request. John pulled out the clip. He sighed in frustration. "We only have three shots on the pistol left. That's great. Enough to blow all our brains out." he said.
They traveled up the stairs. There was still nothing. The whole building was deserted. John picked up a phone at one of the desks. He listened for a dial tone, but to no avail. Trent checked the bags again. In the rush, John had left his cell phone at the house, and it seemed that Trent had misplaced his as well. Trent looked at Lauren. "Do you have a cell phone?" he asked.
"I had it for a while in the antique shop. But after a few hours, it died. I guess I forgot to charge it last night." Lauren said bluntly.
John walked across the room to a mounted television set. He pressed the power button and held his breathe. The set beeped to life and a picture appeared on the screen. It was channel 4 and it had an emergency public notice that read: PLEASE WAIT FOR FURTHER COVERAGE. John pressed another button and the picture changed to a man at a desk. He turned up the volume and pulled a chair over. Trent and Lauren walked over and stared at the t.v. The man was wearing a suit and sat at a desk in front of a "Channel 5 News" sign.
"...the number could be anywhere in the thousands." he said. "If you are just now joining us, we, here at Channel 5 are bringing you around the clock coverage of the events transpiring on this horrid day. As I just stated, the death tolls are said to be in the very high thousands, yet this is only an early estimation. The National Guard has been dispatched across the nation to help in the defense against this new threat. Starting tomorrow, safety camps will be set up. Any and all survivors are urged to go to the nearest camp. These locations will be broadcast later. I... I am just now recieving word that a group of doctors and scientists working at Harvard Medical have uncovered some information on the infected humans. I have a list of precautions here and will now read them to you. Do not approach the creatures. These people are easily provoked and when provoked, display immense physical endurance. Next, after close inspection, it has been confirmed that the infected humans will only die after serious trauma to the head. This includes any form a gunshot, impact, or even decapitation. The last note left from our sources is listed as urgent and very important. The infection that has been plaguing our country has been confirmed to be transmuted through bite. If one is bitten, the victem will succumb to the wound, followed by death and immediate reanimation. It is believed that the rate of change in any individual victim is dependent on the severity of the bite. If anyone is bitten, no cure is, at this moment, available. We, once again, urge all viewers to seek shelter and wait for help. Hopefully, we will reciever some news on-"
John turned the set off. He looked out a nearby window into the crowed street. It was getting late and the sun was setting. "Let's get some rest. In the morning, we'll figure out a way to the police station. I don't think any National Guard squads will reach us in time. And I sure as hell am not staying in here forever. We'll get to the station. I'll make sure we do."