Just a little vignette, still setting the stage...

Columbus addressed the camera: "This room is in Manor B, currently occupied by Reno and Palo Alto Nevada. Palo Alto was last seen 3 days ago. Her husband was last seen yesterday. Repeated phone calls have not been answered. We are investigating a report of noises and a foul smell inside."

Approaching the door, he called out, "Reno? Palo Alto? This is Columbus Ohio. No one's seen you since yesterday. We're checking to see if you're okay." There was a rustling and a crash within.

Wichita stepped into the frame, Mossberg at ready. "I think it's time for rule 14: If they talk, talk..."

Columbus nodded and pulled up his mask. "If they don't talk, shoot." He looked back to the camera as he undid the locks. "For any civilians watching this... Even if you are armed, if you think there is an infection, don't try to handle it yourself. Call us."

"Something's jamming this from the inside," Wichita said, jiggling the handle unsuccessfully. There was a screech on the other side of the door, and the handle turned of its own accord. She fired through the door, then gave a kick. Columbus slammed against it and knocked it open, dropping back and swearing at a pain in his shoulder. A chain kept the door from opening all the way, and a chair could be seen in the way. Then the chair was pushed aside by a figure on hands and knees, that lunged for Wichita. Columbus grabbed the handle and slammed the door on a reaching hand. Wichita took two steps back. "Open it!" Columbus pushed the door back open, and as a lesioned face and hand tried to push through, Wichita fired again.

While the rest of the team entered the room, Columbus leaned against the wall. He pulled down his mask for better breathing, then clutched his shoulder. The camera focused on him as he winced. "What are you doing?" he said, meeting the camera's gaze. "Get in there!"

"Sorry," a female voice said.

"This is Reno, obviously," said one of the crew. The dead man inside the door was in his 50s or 60s.

"I've got Palo Alto in here!" Wichita called. Columbus and the camera followed.

"It's like * Snow White," said a man off camera. The woman, looking to be in her 40s and strikingly beautiful, was neatly tucked in, with a rose clasped in one hand on her chest. Wichita silently held up an empty bottle of pills. Another of the crew pulled her other hand out from under the sheets. A vivid crescent of a bite mark shown on the fleshy part of her thumb.

"No mystery how she went down," said the man. "But what happened to him?"

Columbus, after moving off camera, returned to view on the other side of the bed. "He kissed her," he said. Wichita and the others looked at him curiously. He pointed to her face. "Everything about her is perfectly posed, except her face. That's tilted right." The camera zoomed in. "And you can see how her lipstick is smeared. They had a last meal together, before the onset of symptoms... She took the pills... I'm guessing she took them all to make sure he wouldn't use them on himself... And when she was- gone, he gave her one last kiss. He died for it. He got the virus from the spit."

He took a deep breath and started giving orders. "This is a grade 1 scene... no spatter or decomp. Destroy the sheets, do a once-over of the rest of the room... We can have the room ready for someone else in a few days." He sighed and walked offscreen. Wichita followed.