The day the world went to shit, Saga Lindhurst was locked inside a box and being run through with swords. It was a fairly routine practice session with Jonathan "Hinder" Woodson, her partner and the face of their illusion and magic show. Tech rehearsals had gone well in the theatre outside of Washington D.C. where they were scheduled for three shows in two days, but the box trick had been giving them fits. Saga kept getting a kink in her shoulder every time she tried to twist down to where she needed to be inside the custom box and Hinder kept refusing to lengthen his patter to accommodate. "You should have this, Saga," he snapped as the sword thunked home into its spot in the box. "What the hell is taking so long?"
"You're changing the line," she snarled back from inside the box. "I'd like to see you manage this in that short a time!"
"Maybe we should just cut the box all together," he sighed in frustration as he finished the final sword and threw open the curtains, more of a flip to signify the dramatic flourish he would use with an audience. "Is it your shoulder again?"
Saga glared up at him from her corner, then huffed, "Yes. It keeps hitching and I can't make the turn any faster than I am. You've got to give me more time before that first sword, Jon."
"I don't know--" Jon stopped his angry retort at the sounds of gunshots and screaming outside the theatre. "What the hell?"
"What is it?" Saga asked from inside the box. With the swords in place, she couldn't move comfortably enough to reach the release catch inside, so she waited for her partner to let her out. "Jon?" He didn't answer right away and she could hear his footsteps across the stage. "Jon. Let me out."
"Just a second," he replied and Saga grunted in irritation. Another gunshot blasted, closer this time and he shouted, "Jesus!"
"Get out!" someone screamed from the back of the auditorium. "They're coming!"
"Who's coming?" Jon shouted back.
"Jon!" Saga snapped. "Let me out!"
Another scream came from the auditorium and Saga could hear Jon staggering backwards and swearing. "What the hell was that!? Jesus, he ripped her arm off..." The box rocked when he collided with it. "Saga?"
"Get me the fuck out of here!" she screamed at him, still trying to reach the latch. "I can't reach the release!"
"Shit." Her partner grappled with the swords and popped the emergency catch from the outside, spilling Saga out onto the stage in her practice leotard. She looked up past the footlights of the stage and found herself at a loss for words at what she was seeing.
Two people were staggering up the aisles toward them, one dragging his leg and the other with her scalp peeled back to expose gorey skin and bone. The screaming from the back of the auditorium had gone silent and from where she crouched, Saga could see the hunched backs of two more people who seemed to be ripping a third apart with their hands and teeth. Jon stood next to her, staring out at the oncoming threat with an equal measure of shock. "What's happening?" he breathed.
"Fucking zombie apocalypse, that's what," Saga snapped back and scrambled to her feet. She dashed for the props for the sturdy demonstration sword, more a length of sword-shaped steel than anything balanced as a weapon. Hinder used it to show the audience that the swords he was going to spear through Saga inside her box prison were solid and not collapsible. Its length was dented from being bashed against tables, brick walls, and other hard objects in the course of their shows. Once she had it in hand, she felt like a warrior and she stared back out at the staggering corpses. "Your ass is mine, fucker," she snarled and leaped off the stage, the sword out like a baseball bat.
