Write press release on state of the outbreak. Check.
Send release to the media. Check.
Field calls and interview requests from media. Ongoing.
Prepare evacuation materials, including press release, in case it gets to that point. Check.
Answer questions through phone, website, and social media. Ongoing.

Beth sat back in her desk chair and stretched. It was two thirty Monday afternoon and until now, she hadn't taken a break or slowed her pace one bit. She'd gotten the downright shocking news that her manager in Atlanta had died from the same virus that was spreading like wildfire and keeping her busy. The hospital board of directors were on site and had given her a list of directives to keep the public as calm as possible.

Things in the main medical building were apparently crazy, but Beth's small office was in the neighboring administrative building and she hadn't gotten a chance to step away. She'd called in to several radio stations to explain the day's developments and met with the town's newspaper editor. He was crafting a story for Tuesday and had ignored Beth's warnings that by the time the paper went to print, things would have changed drastically one way or another.

Beth reached for her phone to check her texts, but stopped when her stomach released an angry growl.

"Stop and eat something," her office mate Barb said. "You've been go, go, go all day."

"Isn't everyone this week?" Beth replied as she stood and stretched again. "Yell if my phone starts ringing."

Barb gave her a thumbs up and went back to work.

Humming to herself, Beth strolled to the kitchenette and began warming up her leftovers. She thought to shoot Daryl a text, but realized she'd left her cell on her desk. She made a note to try and remember to do it soon. While the microwave spun, she peered out the window. That can't be right. Beth pressed her eyes closed, then opened them again. Sure enough, a patient was wandering down the front steps of the medical building. Blood dripped from her hands and onto her gown, and she looked about in confusion.

Beth dove for an office phone. "There's a patient out the front door. How does a patient just leave? She doesn't look good."

"Thanks, we'll get her," the nurse at the other end of the line said before hanging up.

"Barb," Beth called. "Come look at this. I haven't seen any of the patients until now. There's a woman outside."

Barb trotted into the break room and stood beside Beth at the window. "You've been on the phone all morning so you haven't heard." She peered at the woman, then clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I heard we're strapping patients down to beds. Even the ones that aren't to the dormant phase yet."

"Dormant phase?" Beth repeated.

"Stage one: they're sick. Stage two: they go dormant – the docs thought the patients died, but they just go dormant. Stage three: they come back all hostile and with these creepy looking eyes," Barb explained. The pointed out the window. "That one's a hostile."

"She's a patient," Beth said in surprise. "Not a hostile."

"One of them took out Dr. Jameson last night. Bit a chunk out of his arm. He's sick now, and that means he'll become one of them," Barb said, shuddering. "As long as we stay over here, we'll be all right. They're letting families in to see patients, but the familes haven't said too much to anyone because they're scared."

Beth blinked. "What about Dr. Forsyth? He said he was putting pieces together about what this could be."

"Didn't show up for work, said he's done. Saw what the hostiles do and decided he was done doctoring. It's not just here. Docs are abandoning their posts everywhere." Barb sighed. "I've done this for ten years. Never thought I'd see something like this."

Outside the window, the bloody patient turned and peered up at the hospital steps as two officers slowly approached her.

"Why are their guns drawn?" Beth gasped. "Not on the front steps. Oh, my god. What if someone sees? That poor woman must be horrified!"

Barb shook her head. "No. She has no idea."

The patient lunged at one of the officers. A gunshot rang out and the woman jerked backward as a bullet tore through her shoulder. Beth gasped and stumbled away from the window. When the microwave beeped a second later, she jumped again. "Jesus," she breathed, running back to the window. Disbelief washed over her and her knees knocked together.

"The virus gets into their brain and messed them up. Look. She doesn't even care," Barb breathed as the woman continued toward the officers.

Beth squeezed her eyes shut and jumped when two more gunshots rang out. A tear ran down her cheek as the situation became more than words on a press release.

Back in Beth's office, her forgotten cell phone vibrated and went unanswered again. Across town, Daryl frowned and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. As much as he tried not to be, he was worried sick about Beth and why she wasn't answering. He went back to work, hoping she would send word that things at the hospital weren't as bad as he was hearing.