mordechaianiliewicz
Member
Chapter 1
Afternoon before work
George Lincoln sat calmly, waiting for the tea on the stove to get ready. It was 4 o'clock, and in another hour, he was going to have to head off to work at the hospital. He looked down at the paper on the table. The New York Times had an article in the Editorials section that was about to turn his stomach, so he turned the page. His wife, Renee was in the bathroom, taking a shower. At three months pregnant, she was only showing a slight pooch, although she was beginning to get paranoid about looking "fat." George smirked thinking about it, and decided to turn on the TV.
"And, this just in. Breaking news," said the young, overly done up anchorwoman, "If you are in Dallas, Rockwall, Kaufman, Ellis, Johnson, Tarrant, Denton, or Collin Counties, you are now being advised to stay in your home, and stay calm at this time. The Governor of Texas is going to make a public announcement we are told within the hour. The outbreak of the as of this time unknown virus known as Brazillian Rabies is not said to be contagious, but officials are urging caution. I repeat, stay in your homes. More updates as we get them."
The tea was boiling, but George hadn't even noticed it. What? he thought. Brazillian Rabies?
He automatically ran to the bathroom, and opened the door.
"You wanna come in, and get dirty before you got to clean uu..." asked his wife, trailing off, her face turning from a look of excitement, to a look of concern, "George, what is it?"
"The news, baby. You gotta get out of the shower. Somethin' is goin' on."
"What is it?"
"Renee, you got to see it, or hear it. Some kind of outbreak of some kind of disease. Brazillian Rabies is what they called it on the news."
Renee Lincoln got out of the shower, and began totowel up her hair, wondering what it was. More annoyed than scared. She followed George into the living room, as he turned on the television.
"-abies is thought as of this time to be non-contagious, but the CDC is warning everyone in California, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Texas to stay in their homes at this time." said the anchor on FOX News.
"What is it, honey?" she asked.
"I don't know, they just started talking about it."
"And in other news-"
George turned to CNN. "And now the governor of Texas" said a female voice. They were in a conference room with a large silver star on the front of a podium. Rick Morris, the Governor of Texas stood at the lecturn, and cleared his throat."I have been in contact with the President and the Governors of the several other states that now have the same problem. According to the personnel at the CDC, large numbers of people in the border states have contracted a disease that is being called "Brazillian Rabies." The CDC has now confirmed that the disease is contagious. And we are advising all Texans to stay in their homes at this time."
I can now take questions.
A fat balding man stood up and asked, "How is it transmitted?"
"Well, the CDC has informed me it is contagious through mucous membranes, and all the bodies orrifices. Past that, they say they aren't sure."
The same fat man asked, "Airborne, touch, water? Blood? Are any of these concerns?"
"We don't know."
The throng of reporters began to clamour before the governor chose an attractive young Asian reporter. "Danni Chen, Houston Channel 7 News, Mr. Morris, what steps are being taken to control the outbreak?"
"Well-" the governor was cut off by George pressing the mute button.
George turned off the TV. "Well, it looks like we're gonna be calling in today, honey."
Traffic Stop
Officer Gary Sinclair was sipping a fresh coffee from the truckstop when a car came zooming down the highway. He hit the lights and sirens, and began to speed up to catch the motorist.
"Oh, sh#t." he said. Being a Highway Patrolman for Arizona in Cochise County was generally pretty boring when it came right down to it.
He accelerated to 70 miles an hour, following the 2004 Pontiac Grand Am which wasn't slowing down. The car had California plates, and it was booking along at maybe 100 miles an hour. He sped up, pressing in the accelerator, and feeling the power of the Police Interceptor begin to catch him up to the speeding vehicle.
"Pull over now!" he yelled into the PA.
Still the car wouldn't slow down, so he called in to have another Patrolman come to assist him.
"Here, and I wanted a little excitement," he said to himself, grimmacing as the Pontiac pushed the limits of it's speed governor, then, horrifyingly, it began to slow down, losing control, and beginning to spin around. Then, it went on it's hood, flipping, and coming to a stop 50 yards into Garrett Walker's ranch.
Sinclair got out of his vehicle. His heart racing. In all his 20 years on the job, he'd onlt seen somthing like this happen three other times. Each time, no one inside had survived. But, he knew the SOP. And he pulled his service pistol out of it's holster, and walked to the totalled Pontiac, the Glock 22 at the ready.
Sinclair looked into the car, and saw a bloody mess. From the front of the vehicle, 25 feet away, there was a woman restrained by the harness who had half her face missing. Sinclair's stomach began to turn a little, and he swollowed the bile. Then, he looked at the driver's side, but couldn't see anyone there. The problem was that there wasn't a hole in the driver's side. The sign that he might have been thrown. Sinclair was beginning to wonder what had happened when he began to see a figure emerge from the back of the car.
He holstered the sidearm, and moved to the side of the car. Extracating himself from the vehicle was a 30 something looking man with bloodshot eyes, and virtually no color to his face. What's more, he was missing his right leg. But what was really strange was that the man's mouth and neck were covered in blood.
"Sir, I am going to call assistance here. Medical assistance to help you." said the Patrolman. He pulled the radio from his lapel, and began to call for help, when the man broke free totally from the vehicle, and began to crawl towards him. "Sir, stay where you are, I'm going to get assistance. The-"
The man howled, like a wolf, moving very quickly towards Sinclair.
"Sir, stay where you are."
Then, it began to snap at him, all it's teeth obvious. It was only 5 feet away now, and Sinclair drew the pistol, stepping back, and poiting it at the figure on the ground as he moved backwards. "Sir, step back."
Frantically he began to think, Drugs, PCP? Doesn't make sense. Then it came together. The woman, half her face gone, blood all over the man's mouth, and neck. Not his blood. This man had been, been... chewing, eating the woman. And it was trying to eat him.
"Back, you psycho!" he screamed at it, keeping it at a distance. By now, he was nearly to Walker's barb wired fence. "What the f**k?" he asked, more to the gods of crazy situations than to the man, coming at him.
Just then, another squad car pulled up to the side of the road, next to his car, and his supervisor, Neil McClintock got out, pulling an AR-15 out of the vehicle.
He walked up to the retreating Patrolman, not saying a word at first, then saying when he was a little closer, "Get back, Sinclair, you don't want it's blood on you."
Sinclair was going mad in confusion over the situation. But a small part of his mind asked, "It's?"
The supervisor was about 25 feet away from the man, and he said, "Sinclair, get over here, behind me."
Sinclair did, then the supervisor took a single shot.
The crack of the rifle echoed a little, but the man was dead.
Sinclair, looked at McClintock, stupified. "You just, you just killed that man."
"No, Officer Sinclair. I did not. I shot him. But he was already dead."
Afternoon before work
George Lincoln sat calmly, waiting for the tea on the stove to get ready. It was 4 o'clock, and in another hour, he was going to have to head off to work at the hospital. He looked down at the paper on the table. The New York Times had an article in the Editorials section that was about to turn his stomach, so he turned the page. His wife, Renee was in the bathroom, taking a shower. At three months pregnant, she was only showing a slight pooch, although she was beginning to get paranoid about looking "fat." George smirked thinking about it, and decided to turn on the TV.
"And, this just in. Breaking news," said the young, overly done up anchorwoman, "If you are in Dallas, Rockwall, Kaufman, Ellis, Johnson, Tarrant, Denton, or Collin Counties, you are now being advised to stay in your home, and stay calm at this time. The Governor of Texas is going to make a public announcement we are told within the hour. The outbreak of the as of this time unknown virus known as Brazillian Rabies is not said to be contagious, but officials are urging caution. I repeat, stay in your homes. More updates as we get them."
The tea was boiling, but George hadn't even noticed it. What? he thought. Brazillian Rabies?
He automatically ran to the bathroom, and opened the door.
"You wanna come in, and get dirty before you got to clean uu..." asked his wife, trailing off, her face turning from a look of excitement, to a look of concern, "George, what is it?"
"The news, baby. You gotta get out of the shower. Somethin' is goin' on."
"What is it?"
"Renee, you got to see it, or hear it. Some kind of outbreak of some kind of disease. Brazillian Rabies is what they called it on the news."
Renee Lincoln got out of the shower, and began totowel up her hair, wondering what it was. More annoyed than scared. She followed George into the living room, as he turned on the television.
"-abies is thought as of this time to be non-contagious, but the CDC is warning everyone in California, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Texas to stay in their homes at this time." said the anchor on FOX News.
"What is it, honey?" she asked.
"I don't know, they just started talking about it."
"And in other news-"
George turned to CNN. "And now the governor of Texas" said a female voice. They were in a conference room with a large silver star on the front of a podium. Rick Morris, the Governor of Texas stood at the lecturn, and cleared his throat."I have been in contact with the President and the Governors of the several other states that now have the same problem. According to the personnel at the CDC, large numbers of people in the border states have contracted a disease that is being called "Brazillian Rabies." The CDC has now confirmed that the disease is contagious. And we are advising all Texans to stay in their homes at this time."
I can now take questions.
A fat balding man stood up and asked, "How is it transmitted?"
"Well, the CDC has informed me it is contagious through mucous membranes, and all the bodies orrifices. Past that, they say they aren't sure."
The same fat man asked, "Airborne, touch, water? Blood? Are any of these concerns?"
"We don't know."
The throng of reporters began to clamour before the governor chose an attractive young Asian reporter. "Danni Chen, Houston Channel 7 News, Mr. Morris, what steps are being taken to control the outbreak?"
"Well-" the governor was cut off by George pressing the mute button.
George turned off the TV. "Well, it looks like we're gonna be calling in today, honey."
Traffic Stop
Officer Gary Sinclair was sipping a fresh coffee from the truckstop when a car came zooming down the highway. He hit the lights and sirens, and began to speed up to catch the motorist.
"Oh, sh#t." he said. Being a Highway Patrolman for Arizona in Cochise County was generally pretty boring when it came right down to it.
He accelerated to 70 miles an hour, following the 2004 Pontiac Grand Am which wasn't slowing down. The car had California plates, and it was booking along at maybe 100 miles an hour. He sped up, pressing in the accelerator, and feeling the power of the Police Interceptor begin to catch him up to the speeding vehicle.
"Pull over now!" he yelled into the PA.
Still the car wouldn't slow down, so he called in to have another Patrolman come to assist him.
"Here, and I wanted a little excitement," he said to himself, grimmacing as the Pontiac pushed the limits of it's speed governor, then, horrifyingly, it began to slow down, losing control, and beginning to spin around. Then, it went on it's hood, flipping, and coming to a stop 50 yards into Garrett Walker's ranch.
Sinclair got out of his vehicle. His heart racing. In all his 20 years on the job, he'd onlt seen somthing like this happen three other times. Each time, no one inside had survived. But, he knew the SOP. And he pulled his service pistol out of it's holster, and walked to the totalled Pontiac, the Glock 22 at the ready.
Sinclair looked into the car, and saw a bloody mess. From the front of the vehicle, 25 feet away, there was a woman restrained by the harness who had half her face missing. Sinclair's stomach began to turn a little, and he swollowed the bile. Then, he looked at the driver's side, but couldn't see anyone there. The problem was that there wasn't a hole in the driver's side. The sign that he might have been thrown. Sinclair was beginning to wonder what had happened when he began to see a figure emerge from the back of the car.
He holstered the sidearm, and moved to the side of the car. Extracating himself from the vehicle was a 30 something looking man with bloodshot eyes, and virtually no color to his face. What's more, he was missing his right leg. But what was really strange was that the man's mouth and neck were covered in blood.
"Sir, I am going to call assistance here. Medical assistance to help you." said the Patrolman. He pulled the radio from his lapel, and began to call for help, when the man broke free totally from the vehicle, and began to crawl towards him. "Sir, stay where you are, I'm going to get assistance. The-"
The man howled, like a wolf, moving very quickly towards Sinclair.
"Sir, stay where you are."
Then, it began to snap at him, all it's teeth obvious. It was only 5 feet away now, and Sinclair drew the pistol, stepping back, and poiting it at the figure on the ground as he moved backwards. "Sir, step back."
Frantically he began to think, Drugs, PCP? Doesn't make sense. Then it came together. The woman, half her face gone, blood all over the man's mouth, and neck. Not his blood. This man had been, been... chewing, eating the woman. And it was trying to eat him.
"Back, you psycho!" he screamed at it, keeping it at a distance. By now, he was nearly to Walker's barb wired fence. "What the f**k?" he asked, more to the gods of crazy situations than to the man, coming at him.
Just then, another squad car pulled up to the side of the road, next to his car, and his supervisor, Neil McClintock got out, pulling an AR-15 out of the vehicle.
He walked up to the retreating Patrolman, not saying a word at first, then saying when he was a little closer, "Get back, Sinclair, you don't want it's blood on you."
Sinclair was going mad in confusion over the situation. But a small part of his mind asked, "It's?"
The supervisor was about 25 feet away from the man, and he said, "Sinclair, get over here, behind me."
Sinclair did, then the supervisor took a single shot.
The crack of the rifle echoed a little, but the man was dead.
Sinclair, looked at McClintock, stupified. "You just, you just killed that man."
"No, Officer Sinclair. I did not. I shot him. But he was already dead."
Last edited:
-kidding, somewhat, great start looking forward to the rest.
Make with some more of that, if you please.
