Note: This is my first fanfic in a long time, so be nice.

Chapter 1: Signal

I screamed.

I screamed until my throat was sore.

Looking at the sky, I tuned out all of the sounds around me. I just kept thinking, "How am I gonna get out of here? Am I going to live to see tomorrow? And Isabella….Is she going to live?" The sound of her cries brought me back to reality. "Frank, what are you doing?" Not wanting to move my eyes, I slowly lowered my head to see where that voice came from. She was still on top of the rolled Jeep, kicking her legs to keep the zombies at bay. We need to get out of here, I thought. We…need to go….now. My limbs were frozen in place, refusing to move. Snap out of it! You need to take Isabella and get out of here before it's too late!

Even though that's what I need to do, I felt so numb. So numb that the only thing I could feel was my heartbeat. Just need to take it slow. Start with my fingers and work my way up. I don't need to feel anything. I just need to move.

I awoke from my dream drenched with sweat. The loud consistent being of the alarm clock on my phone had been going off for a good twenty minutes. I set it to wake me up at 7:00am and it was now 7:52am. Noticing the battery life on the device was almost depleted, I silently cursed myself for having forgotten the charger at home. Though not wanting to get up, I raised my head from the leather seat of my BMW ActiveHybrid 5. Must have fallen asleep there, I thought. I had been waiting for my source to meet me in a deserted parking lot of and old factory somewhere in the outskirts of Vegas. Having drove for 2 hours straight (from 4:00am to 6:45am) made me exhausted. The sun wasn't out yet, but it usually wasn't this time of year. I could still see most of the stars I saw while driving here.

The person I was supposed to meet was someone who claimed they had evidence that would "change everyone's perspective about Phenotrans," the company who makes Zombrex. This man's bold statement made me think he was some kind of lunatic. But it got me interested enough to go through with this guy's idea. And I had nothing else to do since my fame had gone down along with my dignity as a photojournalist. This could be my ticket back to doing what I do best; being a hot-headed, underhanded, hotshot paparazzi with nothing better to do then to invade people's privacy. Ha. Words of a poet.

I checked the clock again and realized I needed to take my daily dose of Zombrex. I hated it. When I inject that crap into my blood, I can almost taste it. Fuck'n sucks to have your life revolve around a drug. An expensive drug at that. But it keeps me alive to see another day which isn't all bad.

I dug into my camera bag I had with me and found a box of Zombrex. Taking out the syringe, I injected the contents into my neck, popped the syringe back in the box and tossed it out the window.

Just as I was going to lie back down, my phone rang.

It was my source.

"Frank, can you hear me?" His voice was whisper quiet. Still sleepy, I had to muster any patience I could. "Yeah. Where are you?" "Listen, I can't make it."

"…what?"

"I can't make it, Frank."

All my patience had left the building.

"So you have me wake up at the ass-crack of dawn and drive for 2 hours to tell me you ain't coming?" Well, this wasn't the first time a source has bailed on me.

Breathing heavily, he replied "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you." I could hear shuffling in the background.

"What, you gonna pay to put gas in my car for the 2 hour drive I gotta take back?" The harsh sarcasm seemed to frighten the man even more then my anger.

"Right now, all I can say is, don't trust Phenotrans." Huh? "What did you say?" "Don't trust them. They are as corrupt as they come, Frank."

Interesting. Very interesting.

"What do you mean by that?"

Just as he was about to respond, a gunshot intercepted his sentence and the line went dead. All I could hear was static.

Well, shit.