Pandemic A

10- Fire from all sides

-{Language warning}-
I'm sorry for how lame this chapter is

It had been a week. An entire, God forsaken week.

It had started with the knock. And it was just at that moment that my entire life, and the life of civilization as we knew it was tipped off the scales.

"ALLAN! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

It was Sean. And he had a gun.

What?

It was sleek silver and small as pistols go, with the barrel about the size of his hand.

Sean clearly had a little bit of experience.

"Sean! What the fuck? Why the hell do you have a gun!?"

He seemed to awaken from a foggy shock, and realized what the thing in his hand was used for.

He quickly put it down on the nearest surface, which happened to be the floor.

"Listen, Allen, stuff's getting bad. Really, really bad. There's a riot going on." His voice had a terrified tremor.

"So? There's riots every once in awhile."

"Those are protest riots. When someone screwed up they think they have to do something about it. This is just... Hell.  Cops are shooting cops, everything is really just... Fucked."

"Jesus..."

"Turn on the TV. Hope they haven't blown the satellites out of the sky."

Every channel was broadcasting the news. The emergency broadcast station had it blaring across the screen. Death was rampant. Numbers were no longer countable.

What we had previously thought to be a flu was becoming an epidemic. The rise in Death worldwide had occurred in just a few days.

For the rest of the day Sean and I stayed locked in the house, hoping to ride out the riot. The televison played at a low volume and our eyes were glued to the screen.

This lasted for a few hours, no dialogue, just watching in horror as the events of something that was set up under our noses.

The disease was completely ravaging the southern US. Mexico had completely shut down. France and England led a campaign across eastern Europe, destroying the land with missile strikes and blitzkrieg attacks.

Israel and most of the middle east was unaccounted for.

China was reporting vast infection and was already shutting down everything.

Central America had broken out into a war for dwindling supplies, and south America as a whole had cut themselves away from the rest of the world.

Australia and New Zealand had unified and were setting in motion a massive plan to provide a safe haven for humanitarian aid.

But the United States was on its own.

Congress had announced three days earlier they wouldn't be convening until further notice.

The president had disappeared a week ago. She must have been told that something big was going to happen.

And nobody knew.

Nobody knew that the government had been shut down.

Nobody knew that this little cold was violent enough to kill people.

Everybody was wondering how something so small and so simple could be so suddenly deadly. It was unrealistic.

The city was left to fend for itself.

The people who had come to collect the sick were working under orders.

The only reason the military wasn't in shambles was because it solely operated on the purpose of protecting the healthy.

"It is with great regret that I inform you that this will be the final broadcast of our show. Until the power goes out in your area, we will broadcast the following constantly along with automated programming." The anchorman had been sickly for the entire broadcast. Again he raised a handkerchief and couched into it. "It is... Very crucial that you seek out personal territory. Isolate yourselves. Small groups if necessary. Stay away from population centers. Isolate yourself. Isolate yourself! With this I bid one final goodbye to you, America. Thanks for... Thanks for the great run."

A sleek black object- similar to the one Sean had, was brought up from behind the desk. It was lifted to his head as the feed was cut to black and the message he had said was printed in bold across the screen.
ISOLATE YOURSELF

And we did. It took a few days of gathering things in the house, to get out of the area to a less dense part.

We didn't come across anyone. People got out of the way if they saw us, but if they didn't then they moved for the guns.

Fires had burned down most of the dense city, but we pitched a tent halfway though town under a bridge that held over the cement river a road with three broken down vans.

We decided we could stay there for a little while and push on later.

It had been six days.

And the next proved to be the hardest.

That final day is when we met Reginald.

Reginald the Maurader.

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-I'm really sorry for it being too short and too bad and you waited too long for absolute shit and for that I apologize. I understand if you quit reading. I've practically quit writing.
Thanks,
-Scott