Chapter One
Three months had passed since the incident at the lab. The city of Phoenix had all but degenerated into a chaotic rabble of deserted building where the Afflicted reigned over all. Now only a few meager settlements of true humans remained it the evacuated city, of which, two or three were raided and disbanded every day. Now less than a couple thousand humans lived in a city that, at its prime, had contained many million. The lights of t he city, long deprived of necessary electricity, now lay dark, silent remainders of a vast city. Few whole buildings still stood, most having been destroyed in the battles of human and zombie.
So, now the humans lived, if it could even truly be called living, a dismal life in the city, deeming it safer in the city than in the desert, where there was no cover; scavenging for any scrap of food and some sort of water.
They couldn't drink of the city pipelines, for, in the beginning, the virus had somehow slipped into Phoenix's water systems. It did not help that Phoenix recycled much of its water, thus spreading any form of the virus that had reached it. The Phoenixians assumed there had been one of the Afflicted killed in the canals of the city, spreading it that way.
But in all actuality, it had been Joe, the long-dead scientist, in his struggle with UBE, who had spread it unconsciously. His body had shattered beakers containing the T Virus. The virus in these containers got into the lab sink to be recycled throughout the city.
Also, the scientists who had escaped spread the disease by direct infection, by scratching or biting others. It had taken awhile, the incubation for the virus being about a day, but by these two factors, water and direct infection, the City of Phoenix had fallen to the sheer numbers of the Afflicted.
A certain group of humans, the self-styled Lone Wolves, now traveled from their old headquarters, having lost many team members from an Afflicted raid on their home the previous night. Now, the sun set below the horizon of decimated low buildings of Glendale.
"Fal, can we stop now?" begged Sarah, tugging on Fal's tunic. "Sorry Sarah, but we must continue, lest we be overtaken," announced Fal, slowing for a second. He was weary; he had traveled many hours with no rest. "Very well, then. We'll stop." Sarah smiled, hugging Fal tightly. "Hey everyone!" she shouted to the crowd behind the couple. "We're stopping for the night. Find somewhere to stay."
The other two dozen humans behind the leading pair halted in mid- stride. They, too, had been weary. Small factions filed out of the main force to find a veritable campsite. Faladon, or Fal, and Sarah went with John and Dorris, or just Dory, to an abandoned suburban home.
It had two rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom. The rooms seemed mostly untouched by battles. The beds were fairly comfortable, the kitchen was well-stocked with nonperishable food, and the bathroom held a bowl of stagnant water, but also some medical supplies, which Dorris took, for she had been a nurse before the Afflicted had come to town.
Everyone in the larger group placed buckets all around, for, since they couldn't drink tap water and purified water was rare, they simply awaited rain or dew, both of which were very rare also. Luckily, storm clouds had been brooding in the distance and now neared
Even more luckily, the group with Fal, John, Sarah, and Dorris found a single bottle of purified water. This showed something about the family's demise. It showed that they had perished in the beginning, else they would have drunk all their available fresh water, which they hadn't. Lucky for the recent inhabitants, unlucky for its late occupants.
Later in the night, Faladon stood guard with armor and weapons he had retrieved from the Renaissance Festival he had attended months ago: a leather tunic, thick robes with a hood and leather inlay, to help fend off bites or scratches, and a long, curved sword, also called a scimitar. There was a noise to be heard across the street from the building they occupied for now. This noise, no one heard, for they were all behind locked doors and windows.
A single Afflicted crept out of the shadows, its coagulated blood glistening in the moonlight. It crept into the street, followed by over fifty fellow Afflicted. They had heard the sounds of life: laughter, speaking, and arguing. Thus, they advanced upon the cluster of living beings.
Faladon saw them before they reached the home he and his friends lived in. He was up, off the couch near the window, and into the bedrooms. He quietly woke his companions. They rose and gathered their gear silently.
"What about the others?" asked Sarah, always the considerate one. Faladon, the supposed leader of the group, answered: "If the others survive, then they will accompany us, otherwise, we take flight."
None in the group wielded a firearm, for the noise would attract Afflicted. Instead, John used a makeshift spear made of salvaged steel piping, Dorris used a small knife and a crossbow, both looted from a hunting shop. Sarah used a sword, given to her by her lover Faladon, and a shield.
Faladon slowly released the chain that held the door locked. The four leapt from the house, Faladon in front, followed by Sarah, then John, and lastly, Dorris.
Dorris fell the first Afflicted with a bolt from her crossbow, while, at the same time, another Afflicted dropped, headless, from a slice of Faladon's. With the immediate Afflicted down, the group took heel, running full tilt away from the battle.
Three months had passed since the incident at the lab. The city of Phoenix had all but degenerated into a chaotic rabble of deserted building where the Afflicted reigned over all. Now only a few meager settlements of true humans remained it the evacuated city, of which, two or three were raided and disbanded every day. Now less than a couple thousand humans lived in a city that, at its prime, had contained many million. The lights of t he city, long deprived of necessary electricity, now lay dark, silent remainders of a vast city. Few whole buildings still stood, most having been destroyed in the battles of human and zombie.
So, now the humans lived, if it could even truly be called living, a dismal life in the city, deeming it safer in the city than in the desert, where there was no cover; scavenging for any scrap of food and some sort of water.
They couldn't drink of the city pipelines, for, in the beginning, the virus had somehow slipped into Phoenix's water systems. It did not help that Phoenix recycled much of its water, thus spreading any form of the virus that had reached it. The Phoenixians assumed there had been one of the Afflicted killed in the canals of the city, spreading it that way.
But in all actuality, it had been Joe, the long-dead scientist, in his struggle with UBE, who had spread it unconsciously. His body had shattered beakers containing the T Virus. The virus in these containers got into the lab sink to be recycled throughout the city.
Also, the scientists who had escaped spread the disease by direct infection, by scratching or biting others. It had taken awhile, the incubation for the virus being about a day, but by these two factors, water and direct infection, the City of Phoenix had fallen to the sheer numbers of the Afflicted.
A certain group of humans, the self-styled Lone Wolves, now traveled from their old headquarters, having lost many team members from an Afflicted raid on their home the previous night. Now, the sun set below the horizon of decimated low buildings of Glendale.
"Fal, can we stop now?" begged Sarah, tugging on Fal's tunic. "Sorry Sarah, but we must continue, lest we be overtaken," announced Fal, slowing for a second. He was weary; he had traveled many hours with no rest. "Very well, then. We'll stop." Sarah smiled, hugging Fal tightly. "Hey everyone!" she shouted to the crowd behind the couple. "We're stopping for the night. Find somewhere to stay."
The other two dozen humans behind the leading pair halted in mid- stride. They, too, had been weary. Small factions filed out of the main force to find a veritable campsite. Faladon, or Fal, and Sarah went with John and Dorris, or just Dory, to an abandoned suburban home.
It had two rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom. The rooms seemed mostly untouched by battles. The beds were fairly comfortable, the kitchen was well-stocked with nonperishable food, and the bathroom held a bowl of stagnant water, but also some medical supplies, which Dorris took, for she had been a nurse before the Afflicted had come to town.
Everyone in the larger group placed buckets all around, for, since they couldn't drink tap water and purified water was rare, they simply awaited rain or dew, both of which were very rare also. Luckily, storm clouds had been brooding in the distance and now neared
Even more luckily, the group with Fal, John, Sarah, and Dorris found a single bottle of purified water. This showed something about the family's demise. It showed that they had perished in the beginning, else they would have drunk all their available fresh water, which they hadn't. Lucky for the recent inhabitants, unlucky for its late occupants.
Later in the night, Faladon stood guard with armor and weapons he had retrieved from the Renaissance Festival he had attended months ago: a leather tunic, thick robes with a hood and leather inlay, to help fend off bites or scratches, and a long, curved sword, also called a scimitar. There was a noise to be heard across the street from the building they occupied for now. This noise, no one heard, for they were all behind locked doors and windows.
A single Afflicted crept out of the shadows, its coagulated blood glistening in the moonlight. It crept into the street, followed by over fifty fellow Afflicted. They had heard the sounds of life: laughter, speaking, and arguing. Thus, they advanced upon the cluster of living beings.
Faladon saw them before they reached the home he and his friends lived in. He was up, off the couch near the window, and into the bedrooms. He quietly woke his companions. They rose and gathered their gear silently.
"What about the others?" asked Sarah, always the considerate one. Faladon, the supposed leader of the group, answered: "If the others survive, then they will accompany us, otherwise, we take flight."
None in the group wielded a firearm, for the noise would attract Afflicted. Instead, John used a makeshift spear made of salvaged steel piping, Dorris used a small knife and a crossbow, both looted from a hunting shop. Sarah used a sword, given to her by her lover Faladon, and a shield.
Faladon slowly released the chain that held the door locked. The four leapt from the house, Faladon in front, followed by Sarah, then John, and lastly, Dorris.
Dorris fell the first Afflicted with a bolt from her crossbow, while, at the same time, another Afflicted dropped, headless, from a slice of Faladon's. With the immediate Afflicted down, the group took heel, running full tilt away from the battle.