A.N: Thanks for the reviews on the prologue, guys. I know you're not sure what to expect from this fic but I hope what I decide to do with it grabs your attention and keeps you wanting more. Also my understanding of Idaho's geography may be half-assed but I did do some research to strengthen the writing. Hope it paid off... Reviews appreciated - Mike

Quarantine

Location: USA, near the Western border of Idaho.

Bill Johnston was fuming. He'd waited over an hour on the interstate heading into Oregon in heavy traffic. The line of vehicles in front of him had barely crawled a few feet forward every minute or so, when he finally came into view of what was causing the congestion.

Military checkpoint was what came to mind. Soldiers lined a makeshift wall of chain-link fencing, concrete blockades and reels of barbed wire. As his truck crept closer, Bill could make out finer details – humvees toting heavy machine guns that swivelled and scanned the area, a large tank blocked the freeway ahead of him; just beyond the fence. National Guard troops ran frantically back and forth shouting orders as they received them – and then Bill saw something that made him curse out loud. He was now close enough to see that every vehicle in front of him was being diverted back along the adjacent freeway.

The reason for his hour wait was due to a combination of the disgruntled protests of each driver as they met the barricade and the steady flow of cars coming out of Oregon; very few seemed eager to slow down. Why the hell would they be letting people out of Oregon but not into it?

As Bill approached the barricade he glared without restraint at the soldier who informed him that for his own personal safety he would need to turn back the way he'd come. The fact his home resided beyond this barricade did nothing to gain sympathy for his predicament.

A sound from above caught his attention and he looked up to see three Chinooks fly overhead. Two carrying large crates and one with what looked like another humvee. They're seriously pulling out all the stops to keep people from crossing the border, he thought solemnly. As he enviously watched the aircraft move toward his own destination something else caught his eye.

The colour of the sky.

The clouds to be exact, seeing as you couldn't see the night sky past the stormy weather.

They were red. It was very subtle an hour ago but now the sky was a violent shade of scarlet.

"Sir. Please, it's in your best interests to turn around now." Bill started as he looked back down at the soldier he'd forgotten all about. "Sir?" Bill eyed the rifle held between the man's hands and sighed.

"Okay, I heard ya the first time. I'm gone."

Bill begrudgingly turned his truck and waited for someone to let him through. Eventually a car slowed to allow him access. But as Bill waved his thanks to the driver, for the briefest of moments as his headlights caught the car's windscreen, he saw their face; ashen with terror, eyes wide and unblinking.

Bill shuddered and sped off down the freeway.

"What's ya poison, son?" The truck driver acknowledged the question with a head nod towards the whiskey and gave muttered thanks when the bartender returned with his drink.

He took a long swig from his small glass and gestured that he wanted another. Bill had caught a break when driving back towards Boise; a secluded joint off the freeway caught his eye, nestled against the coniferous trees surrounding it and he figured a drink would soothe his foul mood. So far, so good.

The place was packed with confused, tired people. Some tourists, others regulars or just truckers like himself. Whoever they were and wherever they came from was unimportant; the place was buzzing with whispers and rumours of what was happening in Oregon. He'd already heard such gems as,

"...the storms across the coast got so bad they had to prevent people getting in and making the problem worse. I heard it on CNN. They need to help those affected and aid is stretched already as it is..." Bill overheard a female tourist explain to the group around her, as he stepped from his truck's cabin and locked the door. Looking up he was still greeted by foreboding clouds of rusted red.

And after that, when Bill went to visit the restroom, "It's a huge cover up by the government, Bob, I'm tellin'ya!" said an inebriated redneck to his buddy at the urinals. "Some disease, making people die left 'n' right like crazy. It's 'cross the whole damn West Coast 'n' they don't want it goin' no further."

Lastly and most recently were the mutterings of the scraggily-bearded, wild-eyed man beside him. "...is...'pocalypse...dem'ns. Dem'ns comin'!" Bill simply raised an eyebrow and shook his head, taking a swig from his second drink.

"He's been like that since I got here." Said the guy on Bill's other side.

"Something's definitely got the locals spooked I'll give you that much." He joked before offering his hand and the stranger shook it. "Bill."

"Sam." The stubble-faced stranger smiled. "Tell me about it. You hear the odd story of something bad going down in the woods, strange occurrences, unexplained deaths; that kind of crap. But nothing this full blown. Is it true there's a tank on the interstate?"

"Yup." Bill took a sip and winced briefly. "Not exactly sure how I'm gonna get back home at this rate."

"Shit." Sam seemed thoughtful for a moment as he played with the coaster under his beer bottle. "This must be serious. A friend of mine living in Santa Barbara told me a few weeks back that something huge went down a town over from her. Maybe this has something to do with it."

"California? You sayin' what every happened has crossed up the entire fucking coast? Doubtful my friend." Bill chuckled dryly.

"Look, I dunno, man. I just know that she was really shaken up. The whole damn city was in meltdown and planning an evacuation."

"And?"

"Well," Sam bit his lip, hesitating with the information he was about to reveal, "that was really...the last I heard...from her." His eyes shifted to Bill's, then away. Remembering this was apparently disturbing him. He then continued quickly as if to reconcile himself, "But I mean, I assumed she was just busy with all the commotion and evacuating and setting down somewhere new must eat into a person's daily routine. I'm sure she's fine." He shrugged the last part off like he had convinced himself of it.

"That's still kind of weird." Bill chipped in, his brow furrowed in thought.

"That's not even the weird part." Sam added after drinking deeply from his beer. He leaned in and Bill found himself doing the same as Sam said in a hushed tone, "She said that...she said whatever was happening...the people involved weren't...quite...human."

Bill's face looked incredulous but he waited for Sam to continue.

"It sounds stupid but she said..." He rolled his eyes as the words left his mouth, "it was 'vampire'."

They two men, strangers to one another, stared. Trying to gage the other's reaction. And then Bill chuckled cynically.

"Oh please. Vampires in California? You're more likely to catch melanoma than you are to develop a taste for human blood."

A loud snort of laughter distracted the two from their conversation and they turned to see a girl dressed in a worn, red top with the hood pulled over her head sitting at the end of the bar. Bangs of dirty, blonde hair hung past the hem of her hood and several shot glasses sat in front of her with what appeared to be a whole bottle of vodka; which she cradled gently in one hand.

"Something funny, little lady?" Bill inquired, his tone expressing annoyance. The blonde twisted round enough so that her face was just barely in view. She looked young.

"Private joke. One of those, 'you had to be there to get it', kinda deals." She replied, her bitter laugh reminiscent of a hyena mocking something it wanted to eat.

"That right? Well maybe try keeping the jokes to yourself." Bill growled with a sarcastic wink. The blonde chose to swivel further round on her stool to face him better, her body language demonstrating she wasn't scared of him in the slightest.

"Listen, Bill, wasn't it? Sam?" The two men exchanged looks at the revelation that she knew their names. "I overheard your...little chat...and I have to tell you...vampires are the least of your problems. That so called 'military barricade' down the road? It won't last the night." By this point most of the bar was listening to her, eager for answers.

"Why?" Bill challenged, not wanting her to get the last word. "What are they trying to stop?"

The blonde groaned as if his he'd asked something incredibly stupid and boring. "Don't you watch the news?" She spluttered, gesturing towards the television above the bar. "There's been city-wide destruction going on for nearly a month and you're all sooo content on believing the crap they tell you." The whole room seemed to have their attention on her as the rumble of chatter died down.

"The bad guys won. They're out. And they're cutting a bloody path up the West Coast just because that's the way they want to celebrate." She growled venomously.

An involuntary twitch jolted her.

"Killed my Spike killed my Angel tried to help...didn't work. Badidea. Shouldofknownbetter!" Her words came out so quickly that they were indistinguishable by the end of her sentence.

Bill watched her face contort as if in the midst of a bad dream, her eyes unfocused. People nearest the blonde took a careful step back.

"Well I'm glad you decided to share your mental breakdown," Bill mocked impatiently, "but I got a family beyond that fence and I plan on seeing them again real soon."

The girl seemed to wake from her thoughts as he spoke and let out a long, giddy laugh. Her smile extremely unnerving considering the way she'd just behaved.

"No you don't." The blonde practically giggled as her eyes bore into his. "They're already dead."

Bill was out of his seat so fast he didn't quite recollect how he'd managed to get within punching range of the blonde girl and been restrained by Sam and the biker next to him. The blonde didn't even flinch. She was too busy downing a shot and wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat, sticking her tongue out and shutting her eyes as she shuddered. "Never getting used to that. Bleurgh." Then she downed another.

"Are you drunk or just plain, batshit crazy?" He spat in her face and the petite blonde merely swayed a bit on her stool.

She regarded him coolly, "Were you always this tall?"

Bill breathed out in frustration and indicated he'd lost interest in hitting the drunken idiot in front of him and was let go. He returned to his seat, glaring down at his glass as he ground his teeth.

"Don't listen to her, man. She's wasted." Sam tried as he joined him again, normalcy slowly returning to the room. "Besides, this place has had its fair share of crazies over the last few weeks." Sam joked.

Bill gave a grunt in acknowledgement but didn't look at him.

"Dear, I think you've had enough." Bill heard the bartender down the other end of the bar state curtly to the young blonde. She sighed deeply and made a sound that he would associate with someone stretching.

"Good call, barkeep. A girl shouldn't go to work drunk."

He didn't dare look up. The temptation to slap her was becoming impossible to ignore. But the sound of several gasps and screams from her vicinity was enough to pique his interest. It took Bill a moment to notice the red and silver axe-like weapon the blonde had withdrawn from inside her top; its head currently resting gently against the counter. It was smothered in blood.

The bartender had drawn a shotgun from under the bar and was pointing it squarely at her head.

Unafraid of his reaction she chuckled, "You'd be better off saving the ammo."

The bartender gave her a look that was almost comical. Bill's eyes widened as he saw what lay beneath the girl's unzipped top. Aside from a tattered and bloodied tank top, the blonde had compiled a nasty collection of wounds and scars that covered any expanse of bare skin he could see. In some places bandages had been applied, but in others the wounds were so deep and so fresh that they still wept. The bartender noticed this too and gasped, pumping the shotgun as a warning to her.

His stomach churned unpleasantly as her gaze met his slowly. His discomfort increasing as a smile crept across her face. There was nothing warm or inviting about it and Bill mentally recoiled, losing the last ounce of bravado he'd presented towards her previously.

Something told Bill she wasn't ready to leave.

A loud crash from outside jolted the entire building and broke the staring competition between Bill and the strange blonde. There was a ripple of initial shock followed by hushed silence. All eyes were on the main entrance and several more gasps were uttered as the sound of automatic gunfire tore through the tense silence. This continued for several, nerve-rattling seconds as the bar's patrons waited with bated breath. There was a loud shriek and then the weapon ceased firing.

After what felt like an hour someone near the doors asked in a frightened whisper, "Do we go out?", before jumping back in fear as they were shoved open. A U.S marine caked in blood and dirt stumbled in, out of breath and visibly shaken.

"A full retreat's been ordered. Every...everyone here needs to move east to Boise; or as far as you can go. Ju..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as if trying to shake away some invisible distraction. "Just keep going east. This area is no longer safe."

"But why? What the hell's going on?" asked a burly-looking guy close to the marine.

The soldier glanced across the sea of curious, scared faces and repeated, "This area is no longer safe."

The sound of more gunfire accompanied by a cacophony of tanks was fast approaching in the distance along with other, disturbing sounds that Bill couldn't place. "Come on people let's move!" The soldier barked trying to regain his composure as people began to move quickly passed him.

People nearest the entrance got out first and even with Bill's forceful advances it took him a while to exit with the panicked crowd. What he saw on the outside made him wish he'd stayed inside. The cause of the crash became immediately evident as Bill saw the crumpled remains of a humvee against the outside of the building. The driver was hanging out of the window and had most of his throat missing.

Someone else was lying on top of the hummer's roof. Bill paused as he looked closer.

Its features weren't human. And its blood wasn't red.

Before he could absorb the shock of what he'd just seen he was pushed forward by more people from inside, all of whom were making hasty advances to their automobiles. A line of tanks were firing into the night and slowly reversing towards the bar's position.

"We've got incoming!" Shouted a marine looking upwards.

"Jesus..." Breathed the bartender as something huge and with leathery wings swooped down from the night sky and plucked one of the tanks from the ground like a pebble; tossing it carelessly into the surrounding woods. It landed with a thunderous crunch, snapping trees as it went.

"Told you." The voice made the aging man yelp in shock and jump around. The blonde girl had whispered it into his ear from behind him as she jabbed his shotgun into his chest and he took it from her. Bill was unfortunately drawn away to the scene unfolding some short distance down the wide, dark road.

Suddenly the concept of Californian vampires seemed absolutely plausible compared to the living horrors crawling, striding and slithering their way. Shifting, shadowy shapes that defied any rational explanation were working their way towards the battalion that blocked their path.

A score of missiles erupted from a MLRS that rolled up to only a few feet from Bill, projectiles sailing over his head as he fell to the ground, holding his hands to the sides of his head.

Bursts of machine gun fire were punctuated by the occasional ferocious hiss of rocket launchers, followed by their deafening impacts as soldiers held back a swarming collaboration of monsters.

Bill could do nothing but shield his ears as all hell broke out around him.

He watched as trees were reduced to splinters, cars – with people inside – crushed beneath clawed feet, viscera exploding outwards over man and machine as hideous creatures were obliterated into bloody piles of bone and sinew; only to be overstepped by something else behind with bigger teeth.

Without warning Bill found himself being dragged by the arm across the ground, recoiling in horror as he witnessed a thick, slimy tentacle twist around him as it pulled enthusiastically at its prey. Bill grabbed at the thing, trying frantically to remove it to no avail. It had the texture of a rhinoceros hide covered in syrup and as Bill fought the urge to vomit, he watched himself approach a circle of cruel, serrated teeth. A terrified, whimper escaped his lips. His eyes shut involuntarily as his body accepted what was about to happen.

The thing hissed and snarled; its rancid breath within his range of smell. It let out a howl that chilled his blood and the steady pulling stopped. Then started again but in the opposite direction. Bill opened one eye and saw to his amazement the blonde girl pulling the tentacle – now severed – with him entangled, single-handedly back across to a more secluded area.

They were further from the fight now and as the girl tore the appendage off of him as if it were a loose belt and lifted him to his feet by the scruff of his shirt, he wondered if this predicament was any safer. Her eyes burned up at him through the bangs of her hair and for a moment he realised how attractive she'd be without that cold, murderous stare. Cute button nose, a bottom lip with its own pout and eyes that were genuinely beautiful – she was no eyesore. But the scars and marks that crisscrossed these delicate features spoke of a woman who had endured worse than a thousand men.

The face of a survivor. A warrior. A goddess.

He swallowed nervously, "Who in the hell are you?" he asked, blunt with curiosity and fear. The girl smiled that same unnerving smile. A smile that told him she knew things he'd never want to know.

"I'm Buffy...and I'll be your slayer for the evening."

Bill blinked.

"No, really?"

"I'm gonna do you a solid, Billy Boy." Buffy shouted calmly over the sounds of fighting and dying men; unfazed by the chaos around them as it reflected harmlessly in her eyes. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and he eyed her weapon apprehensively. The look on her face was devoid of her earlier humour as she simply said, "Run. Forget your dead family. Forget everything that way," she pointed with the scarlet scythe, "There's nothing good beyond the fence. Nothing you want to be anywhere near. Not anymore."

"But I can't...I can't just leave them!" Bill cried in disbelief, begging for an alternative, "I need to know if they're okay, if I can save-"

"Bored now." Her expression had changed so quickly it was terrifying, "Things to kill."

And with that she had released him, dashing off to join the battle that viciously raged on. Bill's eyes followed her in incredulity as she disappeared through the flurry of movement and cannon fire.

As the gears in his head began to turn and take in her final words, Bill Johnston paid no attention to the loud rustling in the trees behind him. Neither did he move when a creature of terrifying magnitude and shape emerged between the branches, gnashing the teeth that ran vertically down its elongated, nightmarish face.

His last thoughts weren't of his family or his friends back home. They were of the girl he'd of called insane any other night. A girl who looked barely older than his own daughter and who had skipped into a fire fight between men and monsters like it was her very own playground.

A girl named Buffy.

Pity he never took her advice.