Attempt 1
It was a quiet afternoon, Michael finally had the house to himself. Classic Vinewood always cleared his thoughts, embellishing in better times was all he wanted to fantasize. Those thoughts were sourly interrupted...
"Dad! Daddy!" Trace's voice could be heard echoing through the house. "DAD!"
Annoyed, Michael turned his attention towards Tracy. "What is it? Can't you- is that blood?"
Tracy was covered, if not all over. She looked beyond panicked. "Dad- Mom- Jimmy- Dad."
"Wait, wait." Micheal turned off his TV. "Tracy, just breathe, What's wrong?"
"It was MOM! She got attacked by Jimmy. She got bit by him. They-" Tracy was sobbing.
"It's ok, Trace." Michael couldn't help himself. He had to calm his daughter down. "I'm here, it's ok. You'll be fine." Then his face and thoughts had processed her words. "Wait. Bitten? Your Mother was BITTEN?"
A gurgling sound from the door. There was Jimmy with the pale look in his eyes. He had a distinct smell to him that made both Michael and Tracy cringe. "Jimmy, now I don't know what the hell you were thinking-" He made a gesture at Tracy. "-Just get behind me, Trace." He tried all he could to focus on his son's now dead eyes. "You don't fucking bite your own Mother. Do you understand me?"
Jimmy charged at Michael, giving a hungry groan. There was a sound of a gunshot as Trace screamed in fear. Jimmy's head was exploded into pieces. Michael was in shock. His own son was just shot as blood spray across his shirt.
"Mike. Oh good Michael, you're alive. So is your daughter. Wish I could say the same about your wife and half of this goddamned city."
"Trevor. What the fuck is wrong with you? What is going on? Why in GOD'S name would you SHOOT MY FUCKING SON!?"
"Michael, there isn't time to explain. Here, take one of my guns. We need to get out of Los Santos. We are heading to Sandy Shores."
What would Michael do? Trace was now freaking out, looking at her Brother as much disbelief as Michael tried processing. He approached his daughter. Hugging her. She started balling. There were no words to comfort either of them in their situation.
"You know Mikey, that's beautiful, that really is, but we don't have time. Now get packed. Get in the car and follow me in my truck. We have no time to lose."
"Honey, Trace. Do what Trevor says. We're going to make it though this. Now go..." Tracy, still choked up, ran up the stairs, obeying her Father's Orders. "Trevor. You better be fucking right about killing my Son, or so help me God, I will have your head on a fucking pike."
Michael and Tracy did what they could to pack as he escorted the group out to the front. Mike took an extra moment to lock up the house as he ran into the front. Trevor was already in his truck as Micheal climbed into his car.
"Hey, just to let you know, Frank is safe. He should be at the trailer. Let's get going before any of this gets worse."
Michael stared as Trevor didn't hesitate to get out of Michael's driveway. Mike's eyes drew gaze on Tracy. She was still crying. For the first time Mike felt his heart break. All but Tracy... his family was dead. His fingers switched on the radio station. Seeing if that would relieve the tension. Announcements of an Emergency Station, perhaps from the News. There were calls of panic, attacks. Telling people to stay in their homes.
Michael pulled out of his driveway, following Trevor not too far behind. His eyes scoping the streets. Pedestrians running, screaming for help. Tracy tucked her legs, closing her eyes. Michael knew what his baby-girl was feeling. It was a nightmare, but when were they going to wake up?