The Outbreak

Chapter 1

Scott POV

I walk through the mess of tents and sleeping bags with the smell of smoke from small fires, scarce food, medicine and blood filling my nose. Hiding out in an abandoned warehouse isn't exactly the best thing in the world, especially since it is so cramped with all of us living in here, but it will have to do for now. It is easy to barricade and keep out those... Those things outside. What should I call them? Zombies? The infected? Whatever they are, there is no humanity left in them. They are monsters. Their skin is deathly pale and peeling, their eyes are sunken in and pitch black, their hair is falling out and the smell... The smell is the worst. It makes me want to gag. My heightened werewolf senses don't help with that, but still. It's disgusting. Apparently there are some mutated versions of the infected as well. They're stronger and faster than the others. Their fingernails have turned into razor sharp claws and they have weird tentacle things sticking out of their backs, helping them to catch their prey. I have no idea how or why they have mutated like that, but I would prefer to stay way from those creatures. I have only heard stories from people I have come across in my travels for new supplies. I continue to walk through the sea of people. I can hear babies and children crying, which breaks my heart. They don't deserve to live like this. I can feel everyone's eyes trained on me, but I pretend not to notice. I make my way to a small room on the other end of the warehouse. I open the door and let myself in.

I make sure to close the door behind me before I walk further into the room, where Derek, Lydia, Liam, Malia, Kira, Hayden, Mason, Corey, the Sheriff, Deaton, Argent and my mom are waiting for me. I take my jacket off and place it on a chair. I take my gun out of its holster and place it down on the table. I hate guns, but in this new dystopian world, I don't really have a choice but to use it if I want to live. The things outside can only be killed if they are shot directly in the head. The bullet has to pierce through the brain. Otherwise, the creatures are pretty much invincible. Still, I only own the one hand gun and I haven't had to use it too much. It's more of a safety measure. I can usually fight off the infected long enough with my werewolf strength, speed and claws to get myself out of danger. Even though those things aren't human anymore, I try to not take too many lives. Every time I do, I think about the life that these things could have lived if this virus didn't exist or someone had found a cure. I'll usually lie awake in bed and cry about it for a while. It takes me ages to get over one of the creatures' deaths. People pay me out for it, but I don't care. It's just who I am. This world has changed me in ways that I never thought possible. I never thought that I would ever handle a gun. I never thought that I would be forced to kill to save my own life. Then again, I also never thought that I would have to live without Stiles. My heart aches at the very thought of my best friend's name.

"So, Scott. Did you see anything out on your patrol?" Argent asks, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts.

"Uh, no, from what I could see, all was clear. I guess the infected are hiding somewhere or have decided to leave this part of the city." I inform him. Argent nods in acknowledgement.

"Would it be wise to keep more guards out on post tonight, just to make sure everything is alright?" Liam asks me curiously. Everyone gazes at me, waiting for my response, since I am the leader of this survivor group. I don't know why people seemed to elect me as the leader, especially the people who didn't know I was a true alpha (they do now though. Once the virus broke out, the secrecy of the supernatural dropped almost immediately). I don't want to be the leader because quite frankly, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm just a 23 year old guy that is supposed to be in college studying to be a vet. However, life decided to give me a different fate, I guess. "Yeah, I think that is a good idea. The infected seem to be getting smarter. Like they're evolving, somehow. Things are going to get worse. We have to always be ready for them." I inform the younger man. He nods quickly in understanding.