Carriers

~ Chapter 1 ~

The Inevitable Coming

'The Green Flu' was the popular subject in Portland, Oregon on November 10th, 2008. "News has it that people are dying rapidly because of it!" whispers murmured through the streets. Some of the smarter ones hightailed it out of there the minute warnings spread that the flu was making its way there. Some of the more less fortunate prayed the stories they heard were nothing but exaggerations.

Whatever this infection was—it was not a flu you can just wash your hands to prevent. Rumors had it that people were changing to the point of no recognition. They even gave the transformed people names, varying from things like 'Smokers', 'Tanks', 'Witches', 'Jockeys', and many more.

Seven days later, a Sunday of all days, was the day the first infected person stumbled into the borders of Portland. As if the Earth itself was foreseeing the events to unfold, the sun couldn't be seen pass the many dark clouds; they hung low and were brooding, causing everything below them to shiver with the chill of no sun. Of course, this could have been seen as any normal autumn day. Somehow, that just didn't seem to be the case.

One girl was in a small office-like building, where she was bored yet believed to be safe. She sat in an office chair, spinning slowly to avoid getting sick. She wore skinny jeans tucked neatly into a pair of dark Ugg boots, a purple blouse clinging to her barely matured form that was matched with black arm warmers decorated with purple ribbon-prints. Tawny-colored bangs hung just above her round, blue eyes, and her wavy hair framed her face and highlighted childlike cheeks. At a glance, you would have never believe she was sixteen years old going on seventeen in only a week or so, but it was true. As if to add to her young appearance, she was shorter than the average female, measuring at only 5 feet and 2 inches. A feature in particular gave off the impression she lived there (or around there) her entire life, her pale white skin looking sun-deprived.

"Callie?" a man's voice called. The teen jumped slightly, startled out of her wandering thoughts. The man in question walked into the very open room and gave her an expecting glance. "Did you file the client papers yet?"

Making a distasteful expression, Callie rolled herself back to her father's desk, mumbling quietly. "I'm working on it…"

The father sighed, a part of him disappointed, but another not surprised. "You're being paid ten dollars an hour little one, and I'm not paying you to dilly-dally!"

As he walked away, the girl licked her lips and got back to work. Working for her father's small business was probably the most boring thing she could think of, but the pay was good and if she wanted to be able to afford the college here in a few years, she needed all the help she could get. Quickly typing away, her thoughts began to wander again to the deepest parts of her brain. She shook her head—what is with me today? Asking herself, the inner monologue distracted her from noticing an approaching figure. It wasn't until she heard her father's voice did she look up to see a man staring at her.

Instantly, she knew something was wrong with the man; his face was blue and wore a blood-stained shirt. Fear made her body seize up, and all she could do was stare back into the dead eyes.

"Hey! I told you, you can't go back here!" the father shouted, coming into view. If she had blinked, she would have missed what happened next. Her father was thrown backwards as the man suddenly launched himself. The girl stood up and screamed, adrenaline beginning to rush into her veins as she ran out into the hallway to stop the man. Terror washed over her as the man began to dig his teeth into her father's neck, blood gushing from the gaping wounds. Thinking fast, she immediately remembered a wolf decorated pocket knife her mother gave to the father for their anniversary, and she ran back to the desk to grab it. She opened it and rushed back, flailing the small knife until it started hitting skin, and dug it deep into the man's body. As if to make this worse, the knife did nothing to stop him, and he didn't even slow in the process of eating her father.

Tears were now cascading down her cheeks as she gripped the knife tightly and stabbed over and over, until finally it hit the spinal cord, sending the zombie-like man down for the count. The bleeding-out dad was unconscious now, causing the girl to panic. Callie stayed by his side momentarily before running out of the small building, hoping and praying that someone could help him. Unfortunately, the always-crowded city was not only packed but also filled with frightened people. Unable to comprehend the situation in front of her, Callie stood dumb-struck, causing a bigger man to hit her head-on and make her world turn black.

The sensation of rocks rubbing against her body made the girl's eyes flutter open. At first, she saw nothing but the cloudy sky. Looking around, she then made out a gentleman's face and blond, short hair as he pulled her along the ground. He was young as well, probably around the same age as she, but was very strong. Easily dragging her along, sometimes he would have to pull her with one arm instead of two as he tried to keep his dark gray-rimmed glasses from falling off his sweaty face. It took a moment for her to realize that she didn't know this boy, and thus she finally began to struggle against his grasp. His sharp, black eyes fell on the dazed girl and realizing she was awake, pulled her to a standing position. Before she could run, he held her by the shoulders both tightly and gently.

"Stop moving! We don't have much time!" he shouted with a thick, British accent. The surroundings were beginning to become clearer, and it was obvious he had dragged her quite a long way. Her father's shop was nowhere to be seen, but she still recognized this part of town. Surprisingly, the crowd in the street was definitely slimmer; all the people were trying to run away from something, yet Callie couldn't find the cause.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly, but the boy didn't hear her, taking advantage of her distraction to pull her toward a building with him. She guessed she had some sort of head injury, because the pain in her head was causing the events around her to be somewhat hazy. Letting the boy take her away, they entered a building on the corner of 1st Avenue and Market Street. The building was eerily empty, so he pulled her along the long corridor until they reached a receptionist desk. Telling her to stay there, he jumped the counter and searched the small area. Callie was beginning to notice now that she was unable to stand straight—her body swayed back and forth somewhat. The boy made a noise of satisfaction and reappeared from behind the desk, holding up a small bottle of prescription pain killers. Hopping over again, he opened the bottle and dumped a few out into his palm so he could select two and pour the rest back inside. He handed her the pills.

"Take this, it'll help with your headache and dizziness." He explained, dusting off his cargo shorts and straightening his button-up short-sleeved shirt. Incapable of questioning it, she simply obeyed and put the pills to her mouth and swallowed. "It'll take a bit for it to kick in, so until then we will hang around here and look for more supplies. All Hell broke loose out there, and it doesn't do us any good running out there like headless chickens. Let me look around and lock the doors…hopefully they don't know how to use doors."

When the boy left, the girl decided it was best if she sat down. The cool floor soothed her scraped up hand, so she figured it would do well for her head as well. Lying her head against the linoleum was a nice feeling, the throbbing not hurting so bad. With the pain killers starting to work in her system, the headache died down to nothing more than an annoyance, allowing for her thoughts and memories to come forward. The image of her father bleeding out on the floor wracked her body with sorrow and she cried out loudly, tears beginning to fall again. There was no way her father was still alive. She wasn't even sure if she did find someone if there was anything that could have been done. Then the thought of her mother and sister crossed her mind, and she knew she had to leave: the hell with this guy. He might have helped her, but she didn't know him and her family could be in danger. Slowly, she began to sit up, trying but failing to give her head time to adjust to the movement.

A sudden, loud noise rang out across the entire building, and Callie turned her head quickly to the source behind her while ignoring the sharp pang from her head. A young woman was close by, a combat knife in hand, and slowly approaching her. The knife was ready to strike until the illumination of the younger girl's face made her stop. She's not one of them!

With a relieved but shaky laugh, the girl praised the Lord silently for the find. Her hair was longer than Callie's by a couple inches, and was a sleek black color. The green eyes gave away her Chinese heritage, along with her fair complexion. She wore a white tank top, designed with colorful imagery of butterflies, and designer hip-hugger flair jeans with sandals. Walking to the younger girl, she held out her hand to help her up. Callie gazed up at the young woman, her height causing the semi-unfocused girl to feel unnecessarily scared. Seeing she was hurt, the woman frowned and knelt to have a better look.

"What's your name?" she asked. The way she spoke was with a tone you speak to children with, and it was not out of disrespect but moreover concern for the teen's wellbeing. Her accent was also British. It took a while for Callie to recognize the word 'name' and answer. In turn, she asked the woman her name. She was hesitant as well, but not for the same reasons. In these times, giving your identity to random people is never a good thing, especially when that identity could potentially be taken advantage of in this strange yet dangerous time.

"Just, call me Guardian for now, okay?" Callie nodded slowly, but stopped when it made her head pulsate. Even though Callie had no idea what was really going on, she also didn't know why this woman was even talking to her. Wasn't it that in these times of tragedy people tend to only take care of themselves and possibly friends or family? It certainly seemed that way in the streets outside. In her own mind, she would rather be up and finding her way home to check her mother and sister.

Footsteps on linoleum made the two girls look up and see the boy that had saved Callie running back. He was panting now, having basically dragged a 125 pound girl down the street and then run around a four-story building to lock doors and windows. When reaching them, he took a moment to catch his breath then asked about the woman. She gave the same name she gave Callie, and then the boy introduced himself as Al. The younger girl still sat on the floor as the two exchanged names, trying to break herself out of the stupor, when a collection of loud and unnerving sounds reached them. Callie and Al looked around curiously, while Guardian's entire body tensed.

"Oh no…there coming!" she muttered. Al glanced at Guardian, then in one fluid motion, leaned down and hoisted the girl up from the ground and lifted her to sit on the counter. Honestly, he had no idea how they would protect themselves for what was to come, but his caring nature forced him to stay with the two women. Guardian raised the combat knife to a ready stance, preparing for a lot of zombie-like figures to appear any minute. They could hear pounding on doors and windows as things were trying to force their way in. It wasn't long before the sounds of breaking glass and splintering wood hit their dreading ears, and the footsteps and growls came soon after.

Nothing reached them though, as shots were fired. The sounds seemed to echo all around them, their senses going crazy as they strained to find the source. People's dying screeches filled the air and caused Callie to whimper, feeling like she was stuck in a bad nightmare. The mysterious stranger didn't have all the fun though, as one had escaped and launched itself at them, but was easily picked off by Guardian's quick dodges and stabs.

From the darkness, they heard no footsteps but saw the silhouettes of someone approaching. Once closer, they could make him out more. He must be the same age as Guardian, for his face while matured still looked young. His sickly pale skin was pronounced as the light hit his arms, contrasting against the black t-shirt and dark colored jeans he sported. With sweat gliding down his forehead from the fighting, it caused the slick, medium length, almost-black hair to be plastered against it. The eyes looked dark and unkind, and even when they could see the blue shade in them, it didn't make him appear any less intimidating. Probably an inch taller than Al, he was still shorter than the immensely tall Guardian. When he stopped in front of them, Callie could barely make out a scar running down his left eye.

An eyebrow arched as he looked at the three, whom were staring at him. "What?"

Guardian gained her composure first and stood up straight, walking a bit closer and examining the heavy looking satchel he carried on his back. "Where'd you get so many weapons?" she questioned him, unwary of this new person.

"My dad's stockpile finally had use." He laughed harshly, and dropped the satchel to reveal three different types of guns, not counting the hunting rifle already in his hands. "Good thing I already know how to use them."

Al gulped, and stood straight like Guardian to try and look a bit more intimidating. "Are you planning on sharing? There's no reason to have three guns on your back when you have one that works fine."

"Hell no." he stated simply. "This isn't like video games kid, it's not as simple as picking a gun and going through an entire campaign with it; they bust easy and can get clogged."

"Please! We have no weapons of our own except my combat knife, and that won't work against a horde like that! Besides, strength in numbers, right?" she tried convincing him. He thought about this, and with a long pause, finally nodded.

"Alright fine, but just until we get to New Orleans."

"New Orleans? But, I thought the infection was already spread there?" Al asked.

"Yeah but the people who stopped believing in CEDA set up something called 'Sanctuary', and everyone is welcome so long as they can get there." Explaining to them, Callie was off in her own world, this time because of the head injury instead of her own distraction. Finally unable to hold it in, she screamed out, causing the three to jump from the sudden outburst.

"I can't go! I have to find my mom and sister!" she cried out. Al walked to the counter, but was unsure what to do. They all had to see scenes of complete horror and disturbing demises—but there stories will come later. The man glared at the young girl.

"There's no time. All cars are either already flipped or are burning. People go to Hell around here and try to make sure that if they're stuck here, might as well keep everyone else from leaving too. It's a long walk, and they're probably already dead." The disregard to her feelings shocked her into simply staring back into those dark blue eyes. Al glared at the stranger, as well as Guardian. She turned to Callie as well, trying to comfort her by saying her sister and mother probably were heading there already, and they might be able to find them if they hurry. Overhearing this made the man snort. Al faced away from them and looked the man up and down, wandering to himself if this was the type of man to stick around or shoot you in the back when you became a hindrance.

"So what should we call you: asshole?" he asked, believing in the latter of his thoughts.

"Shadow." He told him.

"Is that your real name?" Al clarified, disbelieving.

"No, but I don't really feel like giving you my whole life story." He snapped back. Guardian now had helped the younger girl off the counter, and had walked to the pile of guns, eyeing Shadow suspiciously.

"So we all have trusting issues. Hopefully they'll be resolved the further out we go." She stated, having her own doubts in her mind. No one said anything, but carefully selected a weapon. Al took the pump shotgun, Guardian picking the submachine gun up and testing the light gun. Merely staring at the pile, Callie couldn't pick up the M1911 pistol, having never used a gun. Noticing this, Al quickly came to her side and picked up the gun for her, placing it in her frozen hands. Briefly, he showed her how it worked, and even had her do a couple test shots. At first the recoil was immense for her, but it didn't take long for her to become accustomed to it.

"You're a natural!" smiling, Al pointed out. Callie gave him a half-smile, her worries still focused on her family. Hoping they knew about New Orleans, Louisiana like this man did, she waited for instructions.

"Before we leave, we should look around the city. We'll need as many supplies as we can find before heading out." Shadow told them, not really knowing how he became some sort of leader, but decided since he knew more it would be best. The other three nodded, not very comfortable from taking orders from this aggressive fellow, but deciding it was their only option. With the plan in mind, the three walked back down that long corridor, and without hesitation threw themselves back into the burning city.

A/N: AAAND THAT WAS CHAPTER ONE! I hope you liked! Okay, so for the four characters there is a four-chapter immunity (along with any new characters to come along). After that though, the dice will be rolled to see who lives and who dies. You can still submit a character, but it will have to wait in line for those already in the story. IF your character dies, I am letting the creator create another character, but you can only have a place in line AFTER your current character dies. Tell me how I did! Descriptions in this chapter were pretty in-detail, at least more than how I normally do it. Thanks for reading! Until next Wednesday!