30 Days of Undead Summer

#SciFiSaturday

Margaret Morrowood had faced a lot of strange diseases in her life. It came with the job, after all, of working at the CDC.

But never in her twenty-year-long career had she encountered such a disease.

Her team believed that it was a mutated rabies virus, although how that had happened, they had no clue. All they knew right now was that the disease was spreading like wildfire through North America, specifically Mexico and southern America, and its victims turned into what amounted to literal zombies.

Zombies. That was the word that everyone - the police, the CDC, even newscasters - had been avoiding. Margaret herself wasn't a fan of science fiction or horror stories - there was enough disease and horror in the real world, after all - but she was one of the only people on her team actually using the term "zombie" to describe the infected patients.

Many policemen and CDC workers thought that the word would terrify the public, especially after so much exposure to the media, which had filled their minds with "The Walking Dead" and other ridiculous zombie television shows and movies.

Now, there was a real problem, and the public knew next to nothing, which was so much worse

Margaret knew from her time at the CDC during the Ebola "outbreak" and the zika panic that keeping the public at all in the dark was the worst possible thing to do. It opened the doors for conspiracies and fear that gripped the nation. By then, it was too late to calm everyone down with a rational explanation.

Margaret knew that the best way to solve this puzzle of a virus was to inform the public of the steps both the CDC and the police department were taking, teach them the symptoms and the similarities between victims to help them prepare, and hope for the best. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best any of them could do in a situation like this.

She fumbled with her key as she attempted to unlock her apartment door, her fingers tired and cramping from hours fiddling with minute settings on delicate lab equipment. Finally, she was able to push the door open with her hip, one hand already removing the key and the other gripping her purse tightly.

She tossed her key into the small bowl by her door as she shut said opening with her foot. Sighing, she dropped her purse onto the floor, slid off her shoes, and collapsed onto her couch. She had been working longer and longer hours since the zombie virus had emerged, and her body was certainly feeling it.

I seriously have to get a massage when this is all over, she thought to herself, ignoring the dark thought that "this" might never be over and wincing as she stood. Her back felt like it would never be straight again. She had spent the majority of the day hunched over blood and cell samples from victims who had already died from the strange disease.

Well, the majority of them had actually been shot by policemen, but that wasn't here nor there.

Margaret grabbed the remote and turned on the television as she shuffled into the kitchen to grab dinner. 

She froze as she listened to the reporter on the news station speak.

"...killed in a strange massacre in Grant Park today. A man carrying no visible weapons tore the twelve victims apart with his teeth and bare hands, pulling out and devouring chunks of their brain tissue. Authorities have not spoken further on the event, nor have the victims been identified. Stay tuned and we'll keep you posted."

Margaret turned off the TV, feeling sick. Dinner forgotten, she drifted absentmindedly over to where she had dropped her purse and turned on her phone.

Sure enough, she had three missed calls from her boss at the CDC already.

Margaret cast a longing look at the clock. It was already 6:30 - she had worked way overtime this week.

Sighing, she slipped her shoes back on, grabbed a protein bar from her cabinet, and hurried from her apartment.