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Trapped. That’s how John felt. He’d gone from one foreign country to another but still couldn’t get back home. Whatever was going on back in the territories had reached critical status. Due to the volume of flights, he’d been grounded in Germany with his team along with hundreds of others before German authorities issued a lock down. No more incoming flights. No more outgoing.
They just couldn’t handle more people fleeing from America. Glancing around the small room he’d been lucky enough to get close to base with his three friends, John had to agree. The whole military facility was buzzing with personnel and no one was feigning calm any more. It was full-on oh shit, we’re fucked mode.
Satellite towers and communication systems capable of delivering images down to the most minute detail were reduced to scattered, often fragmented bits and pieces of information. People had abandoned their jobs or ceased to operate facilities to transmit data.
From what he could see of the other side of the world, over half the country was being overrun by the hordes. His parents were there. Alone on their land. John dropped back on his bunk and stared up at the speckled ceiling and prayed like he never had before. He wasn’t religious, but now he needed something to cling to. It was official. Victims of the horde had been spotted in every territory, including his home in Washingtonia.
Reports had trickled in and it was clear to everyone that the death toll was in the tens of thousands, if not greater.
“Crawley, you up?”
John tipped his head to the right. The shadowy outline of a figure pushing up on the other bunk in the room blurred as John squinted. He cleared his dry throat. “Yeah.”
A quick glance showed the others in the room nodding. Ruxton’s dark brows creased. “So are we gonna acknowledge what this is?”
Granger, the usually quiet one of their group, cleared his throat. “Hell, zombies is the term being used. My take is that a virus went fuck all crazy and now the disease or whatever they want to call it, is being transmitted through blood and saliva from biting each other.”
John inhaled sharply and blew out a breath. The term zombies fit. Crazed crowds of people with blood streaming over them as they attacked and tore into the flesh of those they caught. Having a strong stomach was one thing, but John admitted to being sickened by the few vids posted on The Hive before connectivity became more of an issue.
Communication coming from America now was limited and sporadic. The horde had grown in size and was spreading through the territories at a rapid rate. Blackouts were called and citizens were warned to stay indoors and to barricade themselves inside for their safety.
“I’m in. We help each other save our families.”