Author's Note: Seems like I just can't stop posting chapters for this. I think this'll make things more interesting down the line. Just so you know, this kind of text would be either french dialogue or general information. This kind of font is English or when there is emphasis on a word in french.Anyway, I've been pretty busy lately, and writing times are getting less and less convenient. Okay enough complaining from me, go ahead and read.

Day 87, Informatique CDC, 18 Rue Berthollet, 94110, Arcueil, France. Early morning.

-Abella Robin

"Abella!" A large, bald, dark-skinned man wearing a lab coat called; his deep voice slightly startling her.

"Yes, monsieur?" The semi-short haired brunet answered, her pale-lightly freckled face slightly blushing red from being startled.

"Have we any progress?" He asked, standing over her desk, fists on his hips.

The small woman stood, adjusted her glasses and met eye-to-eye with her superior, "We have been unable to classify it as, bacteria, virus, fungi... anyway, we do know, the brain stem restarts it's self, bodies reanimate, no matter the cause of death, with the exception of a damaged brain." Abella explained.

"Do you have anything useful? Anything that could point to a possible cure? Something?" The man asked, leaning intently, anxiously.

The woman cleared her throat before proceeding, "The reanimation originates within our DNA."

"Elaborate." He demanded.

"Scientists discovered genetic dark matter, this is old information though, before the plague; a mysterious genetic life form which cannot be classified as animal, bacteria, or virus. This genetic dark matter comprises, ninety-five percent of the human genome. And for the longest time, we had no idea what it was, until recently."

"Time is short, cut to the CHASE!" He boomed, startling lesser scientists stationed in their respective workplaces.

"Certain conditions, perhaps the growing number of Co2 entering our atmosphere, or the constant radio waves transmitted, some theories even suggest vegetative fertilizers or the water we continue to pollute may have altered our genetic code, slowly, over time, like evolution. Thanks to the work of the late doctor Bruce, we created a sustenance that can reverse the mutation and even fight bite pathogens. Complete immunity."

The man raised his hands in the air, heart full of delight, "remercier les cieux! We need to begin distributing samples to everyone and anyone."

"The only sample in existence was transmitted into me, I was the test subject." She told him, placing her hand on her chest for emphasis.

The man frowned, "This is no major setback, right?"

"Sir, there is not possible way to distribute the anecdote to the main populations of the globe, considering the dead haven't already annihilated most of our species yet. Our government is gone, we have but a few days before decontamination takes effect. We made a huge breakthrough, but it's useless now." She informed him.

The large man stared off, as if his last reserves of hope had just left him, "I'll be in my office... Thank you for the report, your father would have been proud." He told her, the whites of his eyes beginning to turn pink, his mouth quivered slightly.

He walked off, slowly and heavily. Abella sat down in her chair, and laid her head down on her desk, "Well... vive la France." She whispered, and began drifting off to sleep. Suddenly a loud gunshot went off down the hall, at the end of the large computerized room in which she was present. Everyone in the room looked to each-other, unsure what to do. Everyone was fully aware of what happened, another suicide. The only question was, who? Abella already knew the answer.

Two days later...

Abella rushed to gather her things, rummaging around the room, tossing clothes into her large red backpack along with, food, a flashlight, various medical supplies. Due to fear of the bag being over encumbered, she discontinued adding on to her supply bag. *Knock knock knock*

"Abella! Are you ready? We're are running short on time." A Caucasian man with tan skin, short black hair, a stubble black beard of the same color, and large black glasses, also wearing a lab coat like everyone else in the building.

"Just about, Arthur! Do we have a plan for when we get out? Where do we go?" She questioned.

"There's a large boat at the docks, I've already sent people to prepare it for our arrival. In the mean time, we can use one of the jeeps outside, it's just a fifteen minute drive there. Come on, we have to leave, now." He told her, suddenly outstretching a gun to her.

She shook her head, "I wouldn't know how to use that."

Arthur placed the gun in the back of his pants before checking the hall outside the room, "Very well, we're off!"

The pair ran down the hall, up the stairs, and into the main room. They advanced towards the exit door, other scientists getting wind of it.

"Ah, I see! The two world's greatest scientists are abandoning ship!" One of the scientist yelled.

"We haven't lost hope yet, we're heading west." Arthur told them, still advancing towards the door.

"Good luck with that, vous etes stupide!"

"Enjoy decontamination, des amis." Arthur smirked before running through the large door with Abella following just behind.

The duo sprinted towards the now blown open double doors. A couple of dead people had already wandered inside. But since there were so few, Abella and Arthur ignored them and pressed on, making their way outside. Now exposed to sunlight, they continued running until the reached a green jeep, parked in the street in front of the informatique CDC. Arthur got into the driver's seat, Abella got in beside him. Just as Arthur started the jeep and took off, he smacked into walker, causing it to be flung over the side of the hood, smearing blood across it.

"En toutes choses bien!" Abella exclaimed, shielding her eyes as the collision happened.

"It's alright, Abella, that guy wasn't alive; you should know that better than anyone." Arthur reasoned.

"Can I not be disturbed by half his corpse being splattered across the car?" Abella replied, slightly shaken.

Suddenly, a loud thunderous boom could be heard behind them. Arthur pulled over to the side of the road, to avoid crashing from being frightened by the blast of sound and bright orange ball of inferno that over took the building they just abandoned. Abella watched in her side view mirror as her place of work for nearly ten years, came to a violent and fiery end.

Several minutes progressed on until they finally arrived at the docks. The large bay, which had once been filled with pearl colored vessels, now reduced to a single red hulled fishing ship with a large white tower; several people appeared to be waiting on board anxiously. Arthur parked near to the wooden dock and got out, advancing towards the end of the hundred foot dock, where the boat waited. Abella grabbed her backpack off the floor of the jeep and got out, running up beside Arthur.

"So, the west, you say? Why there?" She questioned.

"Maybe they fared far better than we did, it could be possible, their superior military might have been able to preserve part of their country." Arthur reasoned.

"What if they didn't?" Abella asked, trouble in her voice.

"I can't promise anything, Abella, I'm going off of faith as much as you are. At least we have that bit of hope, besides, we'd be trapped in this city if we stay." Arthur told her as he began walking up the inclined walkway, onto the boat. Once Abella stepped on-board, an older, shirtless, red headed man with a matching long beard pulled the walk way up, sliding down when perpendicular to the boat.

"This your first time on a boat, french-woman?" The man inquired in a thick Irish accent.

"My father took me, a long time ago." She told him, "Abella." She introduced herself, outstretching a hand.

The man took a hold of her hand, turned her palm down and stole a quick kiss to her hand, "Captain. Doyle, at your service. But don't get to thinking you wont have to pull your own weight around here, lass."

"I won't, you have my word." She assured him.

"Well, we're off then. Time to sail away from this God-forsaken continent. To the west we go!" The large captain stated loudly, scratching his chest hairs while turning and approaching the stairs leading to the control room.

One month later...

The ship floated down the large river, everyone on deck looking for a suitable spot to dock and search for supplies and people. A large red bridge with four giant support beams. Arthur knelt near where the platform would extend, pump-shotgun in his right hand.

"It does not look like the Americans fared well against the dead." Abella inferred.

Arthur turned a cheek to her before shaking his head and waiting for the boat to dock. Others were tossing ropes to the wooden dock below, pulling the ship in. Suddenly a bell tower could be heard being chimed off in the distance. The multitude of people scanned the empty city, anxious and nervous.

"What do you figure, lass? Think that's a welcoming a chime? Or some warning?" Doyle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She bent over and picked up her bag, "Perhaps an automatic bell tower, or perhaps someone is signalling someone unknown to us."

"Let's go find out, shall we?" Doyle ran his fingers along his harpoon.

Arthur pulled the platform up and let it fall forward, just as the boat made contact with the dock. Arthur stood, looked at the crowd of twelve people behind him before walking down the platform. The group followed Arthur, nervously and cautiously across the dock and onto the street. They stood beside a comic stand.

"Looks deserted so far, this is good." Arthur stated.

"How is this good?" Abella inquired.

Arthur turned to face her, the rest of the group split up and began looking among the area.

"This means, an entire city with all sorts of supplies, and no people to quarrel with." Arthur reasoned.

"Well, where are the dead people?" Abella questioned.

Suddenly a woman further up the street shouted to rest of the group, "Everyone! Look over here!"

Everyone ran towards her, all feeling shock as they neared what she found.

"What devil could do something like this?" Doyle asked.

"I don't like this, the Americans could still be around, and if they're doing this to people..." A man stated before bending over and puking on the ground.

A wall of rotting corpses blocked the street. There were live dead people, penetrated through their bodies and left hanging on tall metal rods of some sort. They growled at the survivors below them. There were three large wooden signs with 'stay out' painted on them. Everyone began chatting among-st each-other, fear evident in their tones.

"Calm down, everyone, whoever did this has managed to clear the entire city of walkers, evidently." Arthur inferred.

Dust began lifting up through the air behind the building touching the comic stand.

"Are dust storms in the streets, normal? Come on, dummy, give me something." Doyle asked.

Arthur turned to face Doyle, "How am I supposed to-"

All of a sudden, a Caucasian man with dark hair and a mustache, most of his body covered in blood, wearing an orange hat and blue shirt, sprinted out from down the street.

"Who's this?" Abella asked.

The man noticed them, but ignored them and made his way down the dock and onto their boat.

"That is not yours to be taking!" Arthur yelled.

"Get off of my ship!" Doyle seconded.

Everyone began running towards the boat. Several walkers advanced around the corner from where the man had be running.

"Go back, go back! retorner!" Arthur exclaimed.

The group turned and ran in the opposite direction and down an ally way, which was also blocked off by the dead.

"Everyone! we're going down here!" Arthur announced before stepping onto the ladder leading into the sewer. One-by-one everyone began climbing down. Abella, Arthur, Doyle, three others stood and watched two other survivors make their way down.

"AHHH! AIDEZ MOI! AIDEZ MOI!" A man on the ground level screamed in pain.

Blood poured down onto the man and woman making their way down the ladder.

"HEELLP!" A woman yelled after him.

There were three other shouts of agony after those two. A blonde woman began crying as she stepped off of the ladder, covered in the blood of her friend. Abella took her into her arms.

"What a great plan, Arthur! Now you got five of your own torn apart and eaten, after a great voyage over here." Doyle tempted.

Arthur frowned and balled up his fists before he turned and swung at Doyle, Doyle dodged and dealt a powerful punch to Arthur's nose. Arthur fell back, dazed and unable to stand. Doyle got onto Arthur and began beating on Arthur's face, alternating from his left fist to his right fist, left, right, left, right, left, right...

"Stop this! Let him go!" Abella ordered, voice cracking.

Doyle looked up at her, hands bloody and shaking. He then looked down at Arthur, now unconscious, and spit in his face before standing back up.

Abella bent down and placed her hand on his chest, "Arthur?"

Arthur suddenly began spasming and shaking, Abella instantly placed him on his side and held his head in place.

"He's having a seizure, Doyle!" Abella yelled, anger in her voice.

"Like I care." Doyle stated before walking down some brick stairs and into the sewer.

"Where are you going!?" The other woman covered in blood questioned.

"None of your concern." Doyle told her before making his way around the corner.

"Impossible! This is so wrong..." Abella stated as she held Arthur's head.

"What do we do?" The blonde woman asked.

"I'm going with Doyle." A man with brown hair stated before making his way down the stairs.

"What about Arthur?" Abella questioned.

"Arthur is going to get us all killed, we cannot drag him around, you know the post effects of a seizure better than anyone." The leading man stated.

Everyone looked among-st each-other before following the lead of the other man.

"Traitors! Selfish and scared! If it weren't for Arthur, you'd all be decontaminated like the vermin you are!" Abella ranted.

None looked back.

A few hours later...

Arthur sat against the wall near where he has his seizure. He turned his gaze to the woman sitting in front of him, "You should go..."

"No." She replied.

"Don't worry about me, I need some rest. I'll find you later on. Go find the others and make sure they're safe. Seriously." Arthur told her.

"Are you sure that's what's best?" She confirmed.

"Yes." He said before drifting off to sleep.

Abella stood, picked up her back-pack and made her way down the stairs, "Take care, Arthur." She told him, feeling close to tears.

After close to half an hour of blindly searching through the sewers, she noticed an open pothole above her.

"Perhaps they went up this way." She assumed before taking hold of the rusty ladder and making her way up it.

When she reached outside, she shut the pothole and checked her surroundings, she was in an ally, streets on both sides were flooded with the dead. She gasped and planted her back against a door behind her. She took hold of the door knob and turned it before entering and quickly shutting it. She breathed heavily held both sides of her head, panting almost crying.

"... Clem..." She heard beside her, causing her to slowly turn her gaze to the source of the voice.

A dark-skinned man with short hair, a beard, a torn blue shirt, and amputated arm, sat, handcuffed to a radiator. His eyes were shut and he was leaning against the radiator. A dead cop was lying near him, she put two and two together. She bent down beside him, and felt his neck for a pulse.

"Weak." She stated before unzipping her backpack, "Sir, can you hear me?"

No response.

"You're probably a bite victim." She told him, before pulling out a blood type test, "Let's hope you're O-negative." She stated before stamping his finger and pressing the P in the center of the test. The screen on the test began displaying green dots until it finished processing. '... ... ... O-' She pulled out an empty needle. She penetrated her arm with it and slowly pulled back on the tail of the needle, filling it with her blood. She then proceeded to slide it into the unconscious man's arm.

"That should deal with the pathogens, if not, at least you won't turn on me while I work on a better blood transfusion." Abella told him.

She checked his pulse again, it began gradually getting stronger.

"I guess we're going to have to get better antiquated after I finish saving your life." Abella said as she dug back into her bag.