Two

Coach stepped inside the restaurant feeling slightly out of place wearing a suit. He could count on one hand the number of times in his life he had worn a suit like this; black trousers and jacket with a crisp shirt and neat bowtie, which was only clipped onto his shirt. He looked around the room, full of diners talking, eating and enjoying themselves. In the middle of the room he saw a man and a woman sat together opposite two empty seats. He made his way for them when someone tapped his arm.

'Excuse me,' said a young woman who was sat with her friends. 'Could we get some more wine please?' Coach's eyes widened in surprise.

'Do I look like a waiter?' he asked petulantly. The woman eyed him up before nodding.

'Well, yeah.' Coach walked off to his table without saying anything in response as his thoughts were hardly gentlemanly. As he approached it, the elderly couple sat there stood up and hugged him.

'My son!' Coach's father exclaimed, shaking his hand energetically. 'Congratulations!'

'Thanks, Dad,' he said, before hugging his mother. 'How have you guys been doing?'

'Oh you know,' Coach's mother, Gloria, said lightly. 'How are you doing?'

'Yeah,' Coach's father, Greg, added. 'How come you didn't tell us you were planning on proposing?'

'Well I wasn't,' Coach answered truthfully. 'It just happened and it... felt right.' Gloria looked to Greg and smiled.

'That's just like how your father proposed to me,' she sighed, resting her hand on his.

'Actually you were the one to pop the question,' Greg corrected her.

'Damn right I was!' Gloria slapped his hand. 'It's not as if you were going to do it!'

'I was taking my time,' he insisted.

'Three years,' Gloria looked to her son. 'Three whole years we'd been together and he still hadn't proposed. I can't tell you what I was thinking.'

'Thank God for that...' Greg muttered.

'I was thinking,' Gloria continued, causing Greg to roll his eyes, 'has he got another woman? Is he poor? Is he gay?'

'I think it's obvious I wasn't gay!' Greg laughed.

'I dunno,' Gloria shook her head. 'You always did like San Francisco and you watch cooking shows more often than football.'

'That's because you can't cook!'

'Another reason I thought,' Gloria raised her finger. 'Does he not like my cooking? Am I not good enough for him? Can you imagine; me not being good enough for him? Well we're here now aren't we? Happy as can be, right honey? Don't bring up the past like that I know how you get.' Gloria rubbed Greg's hand with hers once more and Coach leant back in his chair.

'Is this what I'm in for?' he asked.

'Oh yes, honey,' Gloria smiled. 'Oh yes you're in for many happy years like ours, right Greg?'

'That's right,' Greg nodded. 'Many... long... years...' Coach smiled and reached for the menu.

'So where's Ruth then?' Greg asked.

'She had a meeting so she said she'd meet us here.'

'You can't go walking into a restaurant without your fiancé!' Gloria shook her head.

'Well she wanted to make one of her...' Coach paused and sighed. 'One of her grand entrances.'

'Why does she want to do that?' Greg asked.

'She wants to show off her ring...'

At that moment, the doors opened and Ruth stepped inside. Her blonde hair had been curled exquisitely and her face was beautifully made up. Her dress was long and white that had tiny bits of glitter on it that shimmered in the light. Her heels matched the dress and she looked like a graceful movie star. However she did not act like one.

As the waiter asked if he could help her, she laughed and showed him her engagement ring.

'Jesus Christ I can see that rock from over here!' Greg gasped. 'How much did that cost you?' As Ruth made her way around the room, she stopped people eating and showed them her ring, saying things like; 'it's beautiful isn't it?', 'I'm getting married you know,' and 'I'm sorry to disturb you but don't you think this looks fantastic?' Eventually Ruth joined Coach and his family at their table, bouncing toward her seat. Coach stood up and pulled her seat out for her, and Ruth giggled.

'Such a gentleman,' she grinned before stopping the nearest waiter. 'A gentleman who brought me this ring! Don't you think it's lovely?' Coach sat her down and looked around the room, trying to ignore the fact that nearly everyone was staring at them.

'Hello Ruth, dear,' Gloria smiled. 'Would you like some wine?'

'I think she's had enough,' Greg whispered to her.

'Are you drunk?' Coach asked.

'Only on life, my fiancé, my life partner... my soul buddy!'

'Soul buddy?' Greg muttered under his breath.

'Wine, dear?' Gloria offered again.

'Oh, no thank you,' Ruth politely declined. 'Sorry I'm acting so strange but I have fantastic news!'

'Dear God, you're pregnant?' Gloria gasped loud enough for everyone to turn and look. 'You're not raising a bastard!'

'Oh no!' Ruth said suddenly, without thinking, shaking her head. 'Don't worry!' Gloria sat back down, relieved. Ruth held Coach's hand and smiled. 'Well we both have had this house we've had our hearts set on for years now. Before we both met we wanted to live in this house one day... So I have good news!'

'The owner's selling?' Coach asked, excited.

'No she's dead. Killed herself; shot in the head or something, but it's now on the market for dirt cheap!' Greg looked uncomfortable upon hearing this while Gloria kept a smile on her face, to be polite after how she recently acted.

'Well,' Coach nodded slowly. 'That's... defiantly news.'

'I've put a deposit down on it already!'

'You've what?' Coach asked, shocked. Greg began choking on his glass of wine and Gloria began rubbing his back.

'Why wait?' Ruth asked. 'If we hung around someone else could have shot in there!'

'Poor choice of words...' Greg shook his head.

'Well can't we at least wait for the blood to dry before jumping in her grave?' Greg shook his head once more.

'I thought you'd be happy,' Ruth said, her perkiness suddenly dispelled.

'Oh I am,' Coach nodded. 'I am it's just... a shock that's all... I mean this is all happening so fast... we've not even ordered yet.'

'Well it's fine!' Ruth smiled. 'We have the rest of our lives to talk about this, in our dream house!'

'Yeah,' Coach nodded. 'The... rest of our lives.' He looked over to his father who winked at him.

'It's not as ominous as it sounds,' he joked. Coach pondered the idea of being stuck with someone for the rest of his life.

*

'Keith?' Ellis cried. 'Yo Keith! Where you at?' Coach trailed behind Ellis, growing increasingly more tired of his cries. They had been walking through the suburbs for quite a while and had found no sign of anyone alive, or anyone alive who was not infected. 'Keith!' Ellis cried out again.

'Hey, kid,' Coach interrupted. 'Why don't we take a break from yelling? What do you say?'

'You're probably right,' Ellis nodded, massaging his throat. 'My voice is getting super tired!'

'You don't say?' Coach nodded, looking off into the distance, thinking. If they continued to go in the direction they were going they'd be right in the middle of Savannah. There would surely be someone there to help them there.

'What was that in your pocket?' Ellis asked. Coach kept staring ahead without looking around to his companion.

'I already told you,' he said quietly, 'it's nothing.'

'Y'see, I thought that,' Ellis nodded, 'but then I got to thinking; why would someone come back and grab something that's nothing, if you get my meaning?'

'It's personal,' Coach attempted to ignore him, hoping he would stop asking questions.

'Oh I see,' Ellis said. 'Well you can share if you like? I mean, I know we ain't best buddies or nothin', but I think it'd be good to get things off your chest.'

'I'd rather not,' Coach said firmly. Ellis finally took the hint and stopped talking.

After an hour of walking, the two finally made their way onto the main streets of Savannah. The violence, panic and chaos that had filled the streets not long ago had now been dispelled and only the faintest sounds could be heard in the distance. The wind carried the noise of gunshots, screams and explosions around the city, diluting them into the faint whispers that echoed around Coach and Ellis. Holding his fire axe tight, Coach took a sharp breath as he and Ellis stood there in the middle of the street surrounded by crashed cars and numerous bodies.

'What happened here?' Ellis thought aloud. Coach had the same thought but did not voice it. Looking around he saw no signs of life, not even someone infected.

'Where is everybody?' Coach muttered.

'On the ground,' Ellis observed.

A crash came from down the street, causing Coach and Ellis to jump and turn in that direction. Holding his axe up defensively, Coach looked over and saw the circular lid of a metal waste bin roll out from an alley and then fall to the ground.

'Think someone's there?' Ellis asked nervously.

'I don't want to find out,' Coach shook his head. 'Let's get out of here.' He started moving away in one direction but stopped and saw Ellis stepping over in the direction of the bin lid. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. 'God damn it we have to stick together!' Coach hissed. Ellis looked into his eyes and saw how serious he was. Serious eyes glared at him and yet, they were also so very afraid and sad. Ellis nodded.

'Okay,' he said. 'Okay...' Coach let go of him and led the way further down the street. Ellis stuck close to his side, looking around to see if he could spot anyone else who was alive.

*

Rochelle stepped onto the street, looking around for any sign of the infected. Everything had gone eerily quiet, not that she minded of course. The quieter it was, the easier it would be for her camera to pick up her voice. She filmed the main street, allowing the camera to savour the vacancy before her.

'Are you coming or what?' Rochelle asked. Nick stepped out of the doorway with a displeased look on his face.

'Just don't film me!' he insisted.

'Oh relax,' Rochelle smiled to herself. 'According to you we'll be torn to pieces so no one will ever see this footage.' She closed the camera screen and turned around. 'Unless it's found years later and they make a movie out of it. What would we call it?'

'The Blair Bitch Project?'

'Maybe,' Rochelle laughed. 'Because I can totally see us being killed and torn to shreds by all these zombies!' She extended her arms out wide as if to grab hold of all the empty space surrounding them.

'Where have they all gone?' Nick wondered.

'They all killed each other,' Rochelle said. 'It's how the infection works.'

Norah Hanham sat down in the meeting room looking very tired. Edward Deacon was sat at her side as usual while the rest of the attendants sat around the table, each appearing equally tired and worn.

'The flu is spreading at such a speed that it is nearly impossible to contain,' Norah said, her words opening the meeting. 'Information from CEDA now suggests that the point of origin where the first infected was recorded is in Pennsylvania.'

'Hold on a second!' someone interrupted. 'You said that it was coming from New Orleans!' Several people around the room looked at each other, nodding as they remembered.

'Most of the information we've been receiving about the infection,' Edward cut in, 'has come from CEDA. Since there have been greater variations in...' he paused for a moment to choose the appropriate word. 'Since there has been a greater variation in the changes that those infected have gone through, our assumption was that the virus originated in New Orleans and spread, slowly losing its potency and therefore explaining why we've not recorded any examples of some of these infected elsewhere.'

'So either CEDA is wrong,' Norah continued, 'or some unknown party has released a stronger, mutated form of the virus within New Orleans and the surrounding area.'

'Could be both,' someone else suggested, causing a hush to spread throughout the room. Norah took a breath and looked around the room.

'The infection is pretty general to start off with,' she said.

'When you're infected you get symptoms similar to rabies,' Rochelle told Nick as they made their way down the street. 'Then at some stage you... change.'

'These changes can be gradual,' Norah told everyone. 'Or, in cases of extreme mutation, they are rather dramatic. In any case, once someone is infected they lose all of their inhibitions and essentially become retarded.'

'Then they become angry,' Rochelle continued, 'and attack anything they see. People, animals... hell, even each other.'

'You don't say...' Nick said, sounding barely interested.

'However,' Norah continued in her meeting, 'CEDA has managed to develop a countermeasure to fight the infected.'

'Listen to what you're saying!' someone called out. 'Fight the infected? We should be trying to help them!'

'I think those infected are far beyond help,' Edward commented. 'We're trying to find a cure of course but there's not a whole lot we can do unless we can keep them at bay, now is there?'

'If CEDA's so unreliable with its information,' someone else spoke up, 'then how do we know this "countermeasure" is going to work?'

'We just have to trust the Director...' Norah said, her tone sounding overwhelmingly unconvincing.

At the same time, the Director was walking through the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln with Admiral Richard Jaeger following him. Jaeger was supposed to be showing him around the vessel; however the Director appeared to know exactly where he was going.

'Are your engineering teams preparing the biohazard countermeasures?' the Director asked.

'Yes,' Jaeger said irritably, 'but I don't see why we need them. Every survivor is quarantined and checked for infection before they are evacuated.'

'They may not be infected,' the Director said authoritatively, 'but that does not mean they are not carriers.' Jaeger sighed. The Director had been onboard his vessel for only a few moments and he was already getting on his nerves. 'The countermeasure can be deployed through the sprinkler systems and through the air vents.'

'Keep it out of the server rooms,' Jaeger instructed. 'Those computers are very sensitive.'

'Yes, Richard,' the Director waved his hand. 'We're having several shut off points so key systems are not damaged.' Jaeger grabbed the Director's arm, stopping him. The Director turned to look at him.

'It's Admiral,' Jaeger corrected him, through gritted teeth. The Director gave him a thin smile.

'Of course,' he said, shaking his arm loose from his grip. He turned and continued walking, leaving Jaeger behind to glare venomously at him.

Meanwhile; Norah stepped out of the meeting room followed by Edward.

'We're installing the countermeasure within the White House as we speak,' he said. 'Should the infected break in, we could activate the sprinklers and drive them out.'

'I hope it doesn't come to that,' Norah sighed. 'But I think my hopes are in vain.' She stopped in the corridor and looked piercingly into Edward's eyes. 'Why didn't they listen?' she asked.

'Even if we did quarantine New Orleans,' Edward said reassuringly, 'reports are saying the infection originated from numerous points across the country. There's nothing you could have done.' Norah shook her head.

'That doesn't make me feel better,' she sighed. Edward put his hand on her shoulder and looked tenderly at her.

'You'll sort this out,' he smiled. 'You've never let anything beat you before.' Norah smiled back and nodded.

'I just wish people would start working with me rather than against me.'

'The Director?' Edward asked.

'There's something strange about that guy, Eddy,' Norah continued walking. 'I can feel it in my gut.'

'How do you know all of this stuff about the infection, then?' Nick asked Rochelle as they made their way through Savannah. Rochelle gave him a sarcastic look and held up the camera.

'I'm a journalist,' she winked.

'Right,' Nick nodded. 'I should have guessed that.'

'Well I'm hardly dressed for appearing on TV,' Rochelle chuckled, looking at her pink Depeche Mode shirt and black jeans. 'You, though,' she looked over Nick's white suit, 'you're looking trim. What do you do?'

'Me?' Nick asked, pausing a moment. 'I'm... in between jobs.'

'Oh,' Rochelle looked forward. 'I guess we all are at the moment, aren't we?'

The two walked for a moment without talking before Nick broke the silence.

'So where the hell are we going?'

'My hotel,' Rochelle replied, enjoying the surprised look on Nick's face.

'This isn't really the time for that...' he noted.

'Oh you're such an ass,' she chuckled. 'They're evacuating people from there.'

'Really?' Nick asked. 'If you were staying there then why did you not leave earlier?' Rochelle held up her camera in response. 'You wanted to get some footage?' Nick's tone was one of disbelief.

'I needed to get just a bit,' she told him, looking back at him.

'That's fucking stupid, if you ask me...'

'Well I didn't ask you!' Rochelle said; her tone suddenly unusually serious. She turned her head away and took a breath. 'I made a promise to someone.' Nick looked at her but did not say anything. They continued to walk to the hotel in silence.

*

Coach and Ellis continued their cautious walk through the streets of Savannah. They just passed a flaming school bus with numerous burnt bodies inside; although none of them appeared to be children.

'Where are all the kids?' Ellis thought aloud. 'I've not seen any since this all began.'

'It was probably women and children evacuated first,' Coach suspected, looking back at the school bus as they walked on. The sight of the bus triggered something in his memory.

Coach was sat at home, watching the news. His apartment was relatively small; a cosy living area with two small matching sofas and a moderately sized television was joined to a kitchen area that had stools by the counter to double as a place to eat. An empty plate on the living room coffee table showed that Coach ate on the sofa that night as he did every other night. There were three doors in his apartment. One door was open and went to his bedroom, a standard double bed with a desk and wardrobe was inside. The other lead to a bathroom and the final door suddenly opened, Ruth stepping in from the outside hallway. She smiled at Coach and closed the door behind her. Coach stood and embraced her, kissing her passionately on the lips.

'Someone's had a good day,' Ruth giggled.

'It's about to get better,' Coach smiled before Ruth laughed and pushed him away jokingly.

'Oh you dirty man!' she laughed. 'You were supposed to make an honest woman out of me.'

'Alright then,' Coach lifted up his plate. 'Wash that for me.' Ruth put her hands on her hips, a playful look on her face.

'You'd better be joking,' she said. Coach moved around the sofa, placed his plate on the counter and hugged his fiancé once more. 'That's nice,' Ruth whispered. 'It's freezing outside.'

Coach and Ruth moved back to the sofa and sat down together, his arm around her neck. As they watched the less than romantic news reports about the number of flu cases rising throughout the country, Coach kissed her on the cheek to get her attention.

'I got a call from the wedding planner today,' he told her. 'I've paid the deposit so she's all yours. You can go crazy and have the wedding that you've always wanted.' Ruth looked to him, clearly very happy but there was a slight look in her eye that made Coach feel uneasy. 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah,' Ruth nodded, holding his hand tight. 'It's just... about the wedding...'

'What?' Coach asked, concerned.

'I think we should just have a small, inexpensive ceremony so that we can save up for the future.'

'Oh,' Coach said. 'Well that's fine with me.' Ruth smiled at him and looked prime to tell him something else that was important.

'I need to tell you something,' she said carefully, holding his arm. 'Do you remember that meal we had with your folks and I was late because I was at a meeting with the realtor?'

'Oh yeah,' Coach chuckled. 'And you acted crazier than kids on a snow day?'

'Well,' she continued. 'The meeting with realtor came after I had an appointment with the doctor.'

'What?' Coach asked, confused. 'Are you alright?'

'Oh yeah, yeah,' Ruth said carefully. 'I'm absolutely fine... for the moment.'

'What are you talking about?'

'I'm pregnant,' she said. Coach's eyes widened.

Coach's trail of thought was interrupted by Ellis yelling.

'Do you hear that?'

'What?' Coach asked, drawing himself back from his thoughts. After listening for a few moments he heard it; a helicopter. Looking around the sky he saw it in the distance, flying toward them.

'Hey!' Ellis yelled, waving his arms in the air. 'Hey! We're here!' He grabbed Coach's fire axe and waved it through the air, with Coach shuffling to the side to avoid being hit by the blade. The helicopter flew straight over them but slowed down slightly. It stopped over a tall building, a hotel from the looks of it and made its descent down. 'Let's go!' Ellis cried, running for it.

Coach and Ellis ran as fast as they could toward the hotel. Surrounding the building were many abandoned vehicles, the owners apparently leaving them there to get rescued. Some vehicles had not stopped and a petrol tanker was sticking out of the front entrance of the building, having crashed earlier. Survivors waiting to be rescued had set up small makeshift tents and bonfires around the building, which Coach and Ellis were now running around.

'Hey, kid,' Coach cried, stopping. 'Give me back my axe.' Ellis turned around, looked at the axe and then at Coach and nodded, extending his arm to hand it over. Suddenly, a short yelp came from the maze of abandoned vehicles.

'What was that?' Ellis asked, holding the axe tight. The two saw several vehicles in the distance shaking on their wheels; something was headed straight for them.

'Give me the axe,' Coach ordered. Jumping up onto one of the cars, a short, shuffling infected landed on its roof, letting out an inhuman cry. The force it made had set off the car alarm. 'Oh shit,' Coach muttered. The Jockey jumped forward and wrapped itself around Coach who stumbled and was pushed into the hotel. In the distance the screams of hundreds of people echoed all around. 'Get this bitch off me!' Coach cried.

Holding the axe, his hands trembling slightly, Ellis followed Coach into the hotel. The Jockey had pushed Coach against the tanker and Ellis made a swing at it but missed, hitting the metal. He made another swing, this time knocking the infected off Coach onto the ground. He then swung the axe and decapitated the monster in one swoop. Coach leant against the tanker, breathing heavily. In the distance he saw the infected scrambling over the vehicles to get to them. He then looked down and saw flammable oil leaking from the tanker.

'We gotta go,' Coach took Ellis' arm and ran for the open elevator, hammering on the button to take them to the top floor. As the doors closed, the infected swarmed inside the hotel lobby, running through the trail of leaking petrol. The trail ran outside and oozed across the ground toward one of the small bonfires, the meagre flames flickering in the wind.

'Nice work, kid,' Coach patted Ellis on the back.

'Thanks,' Ellis smiled. 'You know, I always wanted to be an axe murderer.' Coach looked at him slightly uneasily.

'Perhaps keep that between you and your Xbox,' he muttered, taking the axe back off him. Outside, the oil was mere inches away from the bonfire. One infected ran through the flames, sending hot embers and sparks everywhere. The oil trail ignited and flames shot past the infected, under the vehicles and through the hotel lobby to the petrol tanker until...

A massive explosion rocked the entire building. Flames shot out of the bottom and rose upward, shattering windows and burning infected. Inside, heading up the stairwell, Nick and Rochelle stumbled as the foundation shook, holding on to the safety rail as dust fell from the ceiling.

'What the hell was that?' Nick asked as Rochelle started recording everything.

The elevator alarm suddenly activated and the door opened for Coach and Ellis, about three quarters of the way to the rooftop.

'We gotta move!' Coach cried and he and Ellis ran for the stairwell and made their way up. As soon as they made their way up one flight of stairs a gunshot halted their ascent. Nick fired at Coach before Rochelle grabbed his arm to divert his aim.

'Watch it!' she cried. 'They're obviously not infected!' Nick eyed the two quickly and lowered his gun.

'Thanks, ma'am,' Ellis nodded.

'You two heading for the chopper, too?' Rochelle asked, filming them.

'Yeah,' Coach said with short breath. 'But we have to go now because it's already here!'

'Shit!' Nick cried, running up, taking two stairs at once. 'Are you coming or what?'

The other three broke into a run and climbed the stairs quicker than before. The flames beneath the hotel were spreading and the support columns were beginning to crumble and decay. The thick black smoke trail made its way up to the rooftop where the pilot of the helicopter saw it and began flicking switches in the cockpit. The four survivors ran faster and faster, with Coach lagging behind somewhat.

'Come on, Coach!' Ellis cried, taking the man's arm and putting it around his shoulder, supporting his weight. Rochelle looked back and turned around to support Coach's other side.

'Nick, we could use your help!' she yelled up the stairs but Nick did not stop. Instead he continued running. He was two floors away from reaching the rooftop while the pilot was getting ready to lift off the unstable building. One floor away, Nick wiped the sweat off his forehead. He was going to make it.

Nick burst through the roof access door just in time to see the helicopter lift off.

'No!' he screamed at it, running to try and grab the wheels of the helicopter but to no avail. It lifted off and went through the black smoke, flying away to safety. 'You bastards!' Nick cried, shooting his gun randomly through the air before falling to his knees and placing his head on the ground. 'Damn it!' he spat, throwing the weapon across the rooftop.

Coach and the others finally emerged, exhausted.

'Where's the chopper?' Ellis asked.

'It flew away,' Nick said, his face still on the ground.

'What's all that smoke?' Rochelle let go of Coach, filming the scene.

'The tanker that crashed into the lobby must've blown up,' Coach guessed, breathing heavily. The entire building shook violently and everyone lost their balance. Nick rolled over onto his back and put his hands over his face.

'Oh this is not happening,' Rochelle muttered to herself, becoming unsettled at the smog that was surrounding them. 'This is not happening... this is not happening...'

'I never should have listened to you!' Nick screamed at her. 'You should have let me die in peace! Now look at us! We've been left for dead on a building that's about to collapse!'

'Well maybe we should go back down?' Ellis suggested.

'Maybe you should shut up, you God-damn hick!' Nick yelled in response.

'Hey!' Coach cried, shutting him up. 'Be nice! We're all gonna have to work together now.' Rochelle turned around and leant against the fence that prevented people from falling off the rooftop. She slid to the ground and put her hands to her face, her camera swinging on the wrist strap. She did not seem to care that it was still recording.

'What the hell makes you think that we are going to work together?' Nick asked petulantly.

'Four's better than two,' Ellis noted. Nick looked around to Rochelle, who still had her face covered. He sighed and then stood up.

'Well then,' he muttered. 'Got a plan then?' The entire building shook once more.

'Hell yeah,' Coach said, gripping his axe with both hands. 'Let's get the hell outta Dodge.'

Well, sorry about such a long time in between updates. I hope you enjoyed chapter two and if you did, I promise that you'll get more updates soon. Please review so I can hear your opinions, good or bad, I do appreciate them. Find out what happens to the survivors in the update next week!

Andy