A/N: Big shout out to Leyshla Gisel and NixyKnight! Your reviews keep me going!

Chapter Two: The First of Many

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"Still no sign of him, Darcy?" I approached the front desk tentatively, unclipping my badge and handing it to her. My co-worker hadn't returned for the rest of our 6 hour shift, and wasn't picking up my calls. The red head pushed her wire rimmed glasses back up her nose, and looked at me sympathetically as she shook her head. I felt my worry further gnaw at me as I pulled out my cell and called David again. I listened to a few hopeful rings, but was only greeted by his friendly voice mail. I sighed and hung up. "See you tomorrow, Darcy."

"Don't trouble yourself 'bout it, darlin'" she reached over her desk and patted my hand. "I'm sure he jus' got caught up in sumthin'. He'll be back askin' for an excuse later" she smiled. I knew she meant well, but I couldn't help the sinking feeling in my gut. With this weird virus or whatever going around lately, there was this unabashed doubt in my mind… almost like I knew the worst had happened; this wasn't typical of neither Tommy nor David. I gave a half-hearted smile to Darcy in return, adjusted my messenger bag, and turned to walk down the corridor.

Usually, it was quiet whenever I'd leave this late. Tonight, though, I heard the coughs and hacks of the sickly. I walked by a room that hadn't been closed completely by a nurse, and to my "good" fortune, I passed by just on time to see a man contort and vomit dark fluid onto the tile floor next to his bed. My nose crinkled, and I walked over to shut the door for the sake of his privacy, but not before he looked at me- his expression made my hair stand on end. His eyes were an odd blood-red color dabbled with yellow; his skin seemed papery in color and thinness, his veins visible especially on his neck and forearms. The wheezing that exhumed from his black-stained mouth and the vacancy of his expression was almost enough to make me cry. A gargling sound erupted from him as he reached a hand out to me, for what I was unsure, but I shook my head and mumbled an apology before I shut the door. "Darcy" I called down the corridor knowing she was still in ear shot. She looked up from her desk expectantly and I pressed "Page a nurse for room 26. This guy's in bad shape."

She was a good distance away, but I could still see her frown as she responded "Are you sure he's in that room?" When I nodded, she mumbled something about "stupid nurses" and said, "That patient was declared dead 46 minutes ago. Newbie musta gotten her rooms mixed up."

I gave one last wave as I entered the elevator, trying my best to forget the look on the man's face. That patient in room 26… his face, above all others, is the one that haunts me to this day.

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As I unchained Jeff's bike from its safe post, I frowned when I took note of the absent ambulance vehicles. There would typically be one or two present while the rest were out, but the parking lot seemed rather empty. I ran my tongue over my lips, trying to ease my sudden nervousness by focusing on getting on the road. I began riding along the same pavement I took to get to work, thinking only of how happy I was to be going home after being shaken up today.

Even though it was only a little past 8pm, I knew I had to get pedaling as fast as I could. Maybe it was the paranoia getting to me- maybe it was the feeling of impending terror brushing the back of my neck. What the hell is going on? Why was I feeling like this? I didn't have a sixth sense, or something else to give me a clear cut answer. It was all in my head, right?

As I hit the pavement and turned down the street that cut through a park, I wasn't worried about being stared at- instead, I was looking around wondering why there wasn't the bustling noise of the night people that thrived during the night with drinks and music. There was hardly anyone around, which again made the bile rise in my throat. It was one thing to have a noisy medical center at this time, but to hardly hear a stir on thestreet? The threat of barfing was growing greater as my panic reached an intangible height. Cut it out. Calm down, Rita. I forced myself to quiet my thoughts, pedaling so fast the world around me seemed to go by in a blur. It helped ease me, but only to an extent.

I reached the parking lot to my building, chaining the bike to its proper place, and practically raced up the stairs to my apartment—Jeff was there. Safety was there. I'd call in sick tomorrow or some shit because even though it was probably most of my own doing, I was on the verge of a panic attack and I needed some kind of assurance.

When I reached the floor of my apartment, I was embarrassingly out of breath to the point where I had to lean over the rail to calm my lungs. I really needed to go on a diet, sheesh… or at least work out more. I walked over to my door, fumbled with the keys a bit, then pushed it open- and felt my stomach burst with butterflies at the sight of the man sitting at the coffee table. All my fears and paranoia were left at the door when he looked up and smiled at me. It was Jeff's ridiculously hot best friend Hank Prior, a slow-drawling, kind, and humorous guy he'd known since high school. Six feet tall of pure southern masculinity with bright, warm brown eyes and frazzled, hay-colored hair that he usually kept at a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck, I'd been crushing on him since he first shook my hand when Jeff introduced him to me. Of course I'd never had the balls to ask him out or anything... Why bother, seriously?

"What're you doing here, Mr. Prior?" was the first thing out of my mouth. Sure it sounded rude, but he hadn't been over in a while…

"How many times do I have to tell ya to call me Hank, honey?" He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners of his eyes to make a wide smile that made it harder to breathe. "My daddy is Mr. Prior and is addressed so by the farmhands. So please, call me Hank. Can't ask ya enough."

"Okay" I mumbled, closing the door behind me. "Where's Jeff?"

"Takin' a shit, I think."

"I heard that!" Jeff's voice came from his room, "Don't believe that sonnabitch, Rita-girl! I'm just siftin' through some stuff." I laughed as I dropped my messenger bag to the floor, walking over to the window and peeking outside—no one was on the streets and I felt my unease returning. I shut the curtains, leaning my forehead against the cloth briefly. It's all in your head. It's all in your head…

"… Ya seein' it, too?"

I blinked, snapped out of my reverie, and looked back at Hank. "What?"

"People goin' missin'." He said a bit quietly, all traces of laughter gone from his voice. "I thought it was just me noticin' it at first, but Jeff sees it too. 'N that look on your face… says it all, Rita-girl. You're afraid. 'N I hate to say it, but you probably should be." I stared at him, unsure of what to say. "Turn on the news" he said suddenly. I obeyed without question, and switched on the piece of crap T.V. that Jeff had refused to replace. I flipped over to a designated news channel, and put up the volume; I tried not to squirm as Hank rose from the coffee table and sat close to me on the couch. Not now Rita, not right now… But try as I might, I could not cease the tingling in my lower belly. For someone who had just turned 23, I still reacted to the opposite sex like a silly teenage girl in high school… ugh, gross.

We caught the story right on time, it seemed, and a shot of a woman with a short blonde bob and too much make up came on the screen.

"With the alarming number of people missing and hospitals spiking with numbers of this new illness, people are concerned with the possibility of a widespread pandemic. The states of South Carolina, North Carolina, Kentucky, Georgia, and some within the mid-west have been making claims of people dying after receiving a bite from apparently, other people, and not animals as first reported. News of this terrifying illness remains to be seen within the far west, and citizens have begun to head towards those infection-free states.

I thought briefly of my father back in Sacramento, California, and of my sister who lived with our mother in the suburbs outside of Atlanta, Georgia. I made a note to give them both a call tonight.

"The symptoms of this illness vary, the most common seeming to come in the form of a common cold. Fever, sweating, chills, and vomiting, but if this happens after a bite or scratch from another human being, this could mean fatal infection and people are urged to check themselves into the nearest hospital immediately to avoid further spreading to non-infected citizens. That said, there are no clues or answers from neither the government nor medical experts as to what exactly caused this virus to manifest. We only urge you, the public, to remain cautious and aware of this rising threat. On that last note: we strongly suggest that you do not make contact with infected people. They have been shown to be aggressive and display cannibalistic attacks. This is Rebecca Carson reporting live from the Abbeville town center, back to you, news anchor Harold Grisham.

As soon as it switched back to the somber looking anchor man and woman, Hank muted the T.V. "This isn't the only channel reportin' it" he said slowly. "Switch it to any other one, 'n you'll see they're sayin' the same things." He first looked at me out of the corner of his eye, then turned his body fully to look at me. "Rita-girl, I know Jeff's been tellin' you to be careful, but…" his large hand came down on my hand, both resting on my knee. I was too shaken to acknowledge the intimacy of the contact, and only continued to listen as he spoke, "But this seems like something that's bad now, and is gonna get worse. Only a fool would think this is jus' gonna 'go away'. People are sick, dyin', then comin' back— "

"What!" I interjected quickly, disbelieving the full magnitude of his words. "C-coming back? These people are dying and… reanimating, is what you're telling me?" Hank winced, like he wanted to take back what he said, but it was too late. I looked at him, waiting for him to fully explain the truth.

"I'm not… sure, really. But yeah. Other stations been reportin' that people are dyin' from bites and scratches, but comin' back as the infected—with this kinda animalistic cravin'. I hate bein' the one to tell ya this, but ya should know."

I bit my lower lip, trying to digest this new information. Just as I was about to interrogate Hank further, Jeff came back into the room with a satisfied look on his face. "Found it!" he sighed, pulling out a handgun from the waist of his jeans. I looked at him, alarmed, and Jeff put the gun back at his waist. "Look, Rita-girl" he began before I could say anything, "Times like these are testin' our survival, methinks. I'm not the only one gearin' up these days. I'm actually gonna stop by the weapons keep in downtown 'n stock up to the best my finances can afford."

"And what's the gun for right now!" I seethed. "You're gonna go trigger happy on a sick person! They need medical attention Jeffery, not to be put down like some animal!" I could see Jeff's temper rising in the way his neck flushed scarlet, and he strode over to me, lowering himself to my level to look me in the eye.

"Rita" his voice almost seemed to tremble, "You haven't seen 'em. They been walkin' around with this look on their face… like they dead already. 'N I believe they are. They ain't human no more, in my eyes. And it seems effective if you git 'em on the head, be it a bullet or smashin' 'em with somethin'. Anywhere else… they don't go down for very long."

I shook my head in horror, my chest beginning to hyperventilate. "Jeff, how… how do you know all this shit? What… why would you…"

"Went to visit his Pa today" Hank cut in, squeezing my hand harder, "Two of his farmhands… were eatin' the cows. And one of the other farmhands was…" He didn't need to finish for me to imagine the terrible truth.

"We was only actin' out to protect my Pa" Jeff pleaded. "They came at us… 'n I smashed them sonnabitches with a shovel. They kept getting' up til I came down on the head… then they was good as dead. If Hank hadn't been there to back me up, I don't think I'd made it home today, Rita-girl." I shook my head, unable to fathom what he just told me. "Somethin' ain't right with the world right now, and we gotta get to somewhere safe. I been hearin' that Atlanta is preparing shelter 'n safes houses for the survivors, 'n people already workin' on a cure for this shit. It ain't so bad here in Abbeville at the moment, but if it does get to that point… I hope we won't be too late to leave."

"Also hear that the military is getting' involved" Hank added. "They're bein' posted in the bigger towns, 'n I seen a few of 'em comin' through here. Let's hope they don't gotta stay for damage control."

I wasn't much of a person with words, especially after hearing everything Jeff and Hank had to say. I was terrified out of my mind, but I knew I wouldn't be of any comfort to these equally shaken men if I didn't put on a brave face, even if it was fake. I swallowed noisily, and finally looked back up to Jeffery, then to Hank. "What… do you suggest I do? What do we do?"

Hank stared hard at me, then looked back to his best friend. They both seemed to have an unspoken agreement exchanged with their looks.

"We gotta teach you how to shoot, Rita-girl."

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A/N: Thank you again to those that reviewed, I hope you keep enjoying! Any critique, questions, or suggestions of what'd you'd like to see are welcome.