Chapter 2:
Genesis

Day: 1

The world went to hell in a hand basket on that chilly day in mid-August. Everyone was along for the ride, including Chicago, Illinois native Nathaniel Marks. A 32 year old former marine, now turned bodyguard/hired gun for the highest bidder. A great living if you were able to stomach the work that was sometimes involved with the job; but was often left out of the job description in the beginning.

The apartment complex Nathaniel lived in, Hawthorne House, located on Lake Shore Drive didn't have the greatest view of the city. But when the shit hit the fan, his studio apartment located at the top of the building was the best location he could hope for. From his living room window, he was able to watch as the city burned, alarms clanged, and people screamed.

The large, plasma screen television behind Nathaniel was muted, the face of a young reporter silently spitting out as much information as she could within the time allotted to her. He'd heard the same information throughout the entire morning and nothing had changed since then. So the former marine had silenced the woman's voice. Stay indoors, lock up, and close your blinds, that was the gist of what the news stations had to offer. Nothing about the source of the infection, or how it was able to spread from person to person, or how anyone who was required to defend themselves could go about doing so; it was infuriating to Nathaniel.

The simple fact was, people were "rioting". More appropriately, they were eating each other, and causing mass panic throughout the city of Chicago. By all accounts from the first interviews they had taken with police officials, the attacks had began in downtown Chicago, and quickly spread uptown.

The man was standing at his window, peering down at the madness and panic ensuing below. So far, the chaos had yet to reach the inside of the apartment complex, but it wouldn't be much longer. Sadly, Nathaniel was incapable of doing anything in ending the horrors that plagued this city. In the end, he would be forced to do what everyone else had to do; survive.


Doctor Debra Whilling was having a bad day, in fact, that was an understatement. Awaking to a shrill alarm after only receiving two hours of sleep had been the beginning of what would become a terrible, hectic day. The constant increase of patients in the emergency room wasn't helping matters either. All of them had the same basic injury; bite wounds. However, each varied in severity and quantity.

There were simple bites that only appeared to need a disinfectant, to those that required immediate surgery. She was soon to discover that things were going to get much worse. Screams echoed through the waiting room as one of the bite victims leaped from his seat and proceeded to tear large chunks of bloody flesh and muscle from the neck of the woman sitting next to him.

Security guards rushed forward to pull the man away from the quickly dying woman, but only succeeded in becoming the next victims of the madman's rampage. Soon, several other patients arose from their seats to terrorize the civilians within the waiting room. One of the multitudes that had arisen turned her attention towards Debra and rushed her. A single gunshot echoed through the waiting room, cause the panic and chaos to slacken for a moment, only to return to its previous fervor a second later. The gunshot came from a security guard near the entrance of the emergency room, a smoking Beretta 92 in his hand.

The woman that had previously been rushing Debra stumbled as the bullet slammed into her back, but she did not fall. However, it gave Debra the few seconds she needed to turn and run from the waiting room. Her Reeboks smacked against the highly polished floor as she rushed past closed rooms, screams coming from the other sides of their doors. A glance over her shoulder caused her heartbeat to slow down considerably. The crazed woman wasn't following her, she had more than likely turned her attention to the security guard that had fired at her. The 29 year old doctor muttered a silent "thank you" to the security guard whose name she did not know. Because of him, she'd been able to escape, but he had very likely given his own life.


He'd had it planned perfectly; the entire day was going to be amazing. Pick her up from her house; take her shopping for clothes, shoes, whatever she wanted. Later the two of them would have lunch at a place of her choosing. Afterwards a movie, then back to his place for dinner, one that he would cook himself. That was when he would propose; little did the young man know he couldn't make it much farther than the shopping spree that day.

Josh had indeed picked his girlfriend, Caitlin James, up from her house and took her shopping. That was as far as they got, the mall had been a madhouse. He should've known, every radio station they turned to was covering the riots and attacks that were spreading rapidly throughout Chicago. Neither he, nor Caitlin had realized just how far the panic had spread, until they reached the shopping center. One of the rioters slammed into the driver side of the small Honda Civic Si, a graduation gift from his parents.

The force with which the man had slammed into the car rocked it from side to side, and an ear splitting scream came from Caitlin. Josh nearly jumped out of his skin, and it felt like his heart was now beating in his throat. Streaks of blood ran down the window from the open wounds in the man's hands. His lower jaw hung limply, the left side torn away completely from the rest of his head.

A horrid retching sound came from his right, as the smell of bile filled the interior of the compact car. Josh was only vaguely aware of the vomit that now pooled around his girlfriend's shoes. The two's worries were only just beginning; the window was beginning to crack due to the constant bombardment of the man's fists against the saf-t-glass.

Caitlin's whimpering was the only sound in Josh's ears as he slammed his foot on the accelerator and shot away from the horrendous sight. In only a moment, the two of them were several hundred yards away from the mall, as the turbocharged twin-cam whined, sending power to the front wheels. The young man reached out and rubbed his future wife's back, giving her the only comfort he could at the moment.

"It's ok, baby. It's gone, there's nothing there anymore."

Still, her crying, the whine of the engine, and his heartbeat were the only sounds that made it to his ears. There would be plenty of time later to let his mind wander, and take in the events that had already occurred. But at the moment, he had only one priority, and that was making sure Caitlin stayed safe.

It'd been planned perfectly, why did the day have to turn out so wrong?


A/N: Here it is, the second chapter. Thank you for all the readers who took the time to review. I plan to have a new chapter out at least once a week, for those of you who might be wondering. However, if it takes longer, bear with me. There is a great deal of time, patience, and believe it or not, research going into this story. So, enjoy this latest chapter. Constructive criticism is welcomed.