As expected, Lindsey was just as stunning as she was in high school. She had perfectly tanned skin, big brown eyes, long, straight, glossy brown hair and a pearly smile that sparkled with radiant beauty.

Caleb was immensely pleased to get reacquainted with her. They had lunch before he decided to start asking for favors concerning the crime. He was not particularly thrilled about the idea of looking at a dead body, torn to pieces, so he had lied, and told Matthew that Lindsey said no about the body. Really, he had not even asked.

The three of them were walking underneath the yellow crime scene tape that had roped off the area where Mr. Thomas Eden spent his last tragic moments. Matthew had his camera and was already flashing pictures left and right. Caleb was not sure that he was supposed to do that. It's not as if anyone could not see them out there, in broad daylight, crossing the crime scene tape without uniform. Then again, it helped to have an FBI agent with a badge to flash if someone so much as asked them what they were doing.

Something about a woman flipping open a badge, declaring confidently that she was FBI that intimidated the hell out of people.

I should have joined the FBI, Caleb thought absently to himself. He felt kind of useless as Lindsey explained the crime scene to Matthew, he seemed to understand every word she was saying. Caleb had never been to a crime scene before and was afraid to even walk around. The two of them were treading very carefully across the blood-stained ground and snow.

"Just gathering from what I see, it looks like he was attacked by multiple people, coming from different directions. I see at least four sets of footprints here, aside from Thomas's," Lindsey explained, pointing her flashlight at different sets of prints. Caleb worked hard to try to follow the crime scene investigation jargon, but was more concentrated on how he would narrate this scene when he wrote the novel.

It was a particularly cold winter evening, snow falling furiously from the skies. Thomas walked as fast as he could without slipping. His car had gone off the road because he slid in the snow and it was stuck in a ditch. He did not have his cell phone on him; he left it at home. At least he was only about a mile away from his house. He just needed to walk up the long road that ran alongside the refinery in Hartford, cross the train tracks and he was home free.

He heard a low, painful groan not too far from him. It sounded human. He looked and saw a figure limping his way over to Thomas, arms outstretched.

What the hell?

As the man inched his way closer, it was clear that he was injured. Thomas took a few steps toward him, ready to help him out, take him to his house and call an ambulance. As soon as he was able to get a close enough look, he began to step back. There was something seriously wrong with this guy. Pale, loose skin, blood all over his front side, especially around his neck and mouth—it was revolting. He reeked like death, like a dead, decaying body kept in an slaughterhouse in the summer. His eyes were glossed over and devoid of life and reason. He was not human—he was some sort of creature.

Zombie…

The word did not bounce around his mind very well. He had heard stories about what had happened in Raccoon City, and in Australia and France. Could that really be happening here? He turned to keep going. He was not far from his house now. As soon as he turned he almost ran into a woman. She was dressed only in a hospital gown; her limbs were blue from frostbite. She too reached for him, arms outstretched, her mouth covered in blood as moaned hungrily for him.

"Stay away from me!" he shouted, to no avail. There was another creature coming up behind him. They were to close now. The first one snatched him in his decaying, frozen fingers with a surprisingly iron grip. Thomas pushed him away, hard enough to knock the man on his back, sliding across the snow. The woman grabbed him from behind and bit him through his jacket. Her teeth did not touch the skin, but he felt the meat in his shoulder give way under her bite.

He screamed in pain and spun, punching her in the face with all his might. She too, fell to the ground. He could feel warm, pulsing blood ooze down his back, seeping through his shirt as he turned again. The remaining creature grabbed him and began to gnaw on his neck, pushing his weight against Thomas as he felt to the ground. By the time he pushed the man off, the others were taking bites at his arms and legs, trying to get through the clothing so they could bite the skin.

He screamed in terror as the creatures began to eat him alive. He begged for death, cursing God until finally the creature took a bite out of his neck. He felt his jugular painfully give way and he blacked out, slipping into the black.

Yeah…it probably would go something like that, Caleb decided. He had spaced out for a while, not paying attention to the conversation exchange between Matthew and Lindsey. He just hoped that they did not ask for his opinion about anything. He was sure he could not give them any kind of intelligent answer.

"Lindsey, please explain the T-virus thing to me again, about the body, that is," Caleb said, trying to make sense of what she said. Hopefully, she would dumb it down for him, so that he did not have to ask again. The first time, she had slammed him with a bunch of biology mumbo jumbo that had gone right over his head.

"There's really no way to find out of the T-virus was in and on the body. The bones were picked mostly clean. The T-virus needs at least a brain to infect and control. It won't lay dormant on tissue, waiting for something to infect. Over time, it will just die," she explained. This was a much better answer than the last one that she had given him.

"Is that normal and characteristic of viruses? To just die?" Matthew asked.

"Viruses are very interesting things. There is debate as to whether viruses are even living organisms or not. They are made up of only protein and a strand of DNA specific to that particular virus…they kind of look like hexagonal spiders…anyway, the virus attached itself to a cell, breaks the membrane and pushes the strand of DNA into the nucleus of that cell, causing it to mutate.

"There was not much left for the virus to attach itself to. The samples that I took all tested negative."

"Wow. Do we know where these footprints lead?" Matthew pointed at the tracks.

"They go off in different locations, kind of wandering aimlessly, and then they abruptly stop. It looks as if they fell down, and then were carried away. There are footprints from at least three other people at each site," Lindsey explained. She shivered as she spoke, her teeth chattering together. It was really cold outside, and the weather forecast only promised it to get colder.

"Sounds like Umbrella cleaned up its mess before it got too out of hand," Matthew said.

"So you really think…zombies did this?" Caleb asked.

"It follows the pattern: the dragging feet, lack of living tissue samples to gather from the crime scene, human bite marks on the corpse…I think Matthew's right, Caleb," Lindsey grimaced. He looked down at the tracks in the snow, trying to make sense of it. It just looked like a snowball fight gone way wrong to him.

"Is this enough evidence to prosecute Tri-Cell?" Caleb asked. He figured it was a no, but Lindsey would no way better than him, and a little better than Matthew. Crime was more her area of expertise.

"Not really. This is all evidence based on circumstantial assumption—we need some thing substantial, like a T-virus sample," she explained.

"Is it enough to get a warrant to search Tri-Cell's campus?" Matthew asked hopefully.

"Maybe. I'll bring this to my supervisor and run the theories by him," she offered.

"Don't waste your time, Lin. Even if you got a warrant, they would keep it locked up in a hidden place that the FBI would never find," Caleb warned.

"Your lack of faith in the Federal Bureau of Investigation disturbs me, Caleb. If we get the warrant and if they do have the T-virus in there somewhere, we will find it," she promised. That was the only thing that could put his mind at ease for the moment. At least they did not have a full-blown spill on their hands.

Suddenly, the roar of several black, armored trucks barreling down the road broke his train of thought. They were all identical and driving in a single file for the south entrance of the refinery. He looked at Lindsey and Matthew, who had similar expressions on their face. They could imagine what kind of cargo those trucks were holding, though they did not want to. Caleb was sprinting for his car, fumbling to get his keys. If they could get an idea of what facility, particularly what building they were hauling their precious cargo, they would have a much better idea of where to search.

Caleb nearly had the car in reverse when Matthew jumped into the passenger seat. Lindsey had her own car, and would have to fend for herself. She was a little bit behind them, still unlocking her door. Caleb threw the car in reverse and backed up without looking, tires squealing on the wet pavement. He pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the road just as the first black armored vehicle was turning left into the south entrance down the road.

"Hurry!" Matthew urged, pointing.

"I am!" Caleb snapped. He floored the accelerator and flew down the road well past the legal limit. Just as the last truck was turning in, Caleb had almost caught up to them. He hit the brake and let the car come to a crawling speed, rolled his window down, and peered to the left, watching the trucks. They drove onto the refinery campus until he could barely see them, and then they turned right. He could not see which building or where they were going.

"Well that's helpful," Matthew complained, sitting back down in his seat. Caleb shot him a glare. There was quite enough pessimism in this situation already.

"Don't be cynical. We know more than we did. We know what facility it's at, that it is a building on the south side of the refinery, and it's big enough to house five or six armored trucks," Caleb pointed out. He was usually a pessimist by nature too, but when someone took the initiative to be negative, the rebel in him forced him to be positive. It was a strange tendency, but that is what he usually did.

"Whatever…so what are we doing now?" Matthew asked, unenthusiastically.

"Now we eat…and wait," Caleb replied and continued driving, pulling out his cell phone to text Lindsey.

Dinner?

He continued driving towards Wood River and checked the rearview mirror to make sure that she was still following him. Soon enough, his phone vibrated and he had a text from her.

Absolutely

"So am I just supposed to sit while you two googly-eye each other?" Matthew complained.

"You're delusional," Caleb said, snapping his phone shut.

"You're in denial," Matthew replied.

"You're dumb," Caleb retorted.

"Yeah, well you're ugly," Matthew added. Caleb opened his mouth to say something, but he had no comeback for an insult so irrelevant and unintelligent.

"You win," Caleb conceded.

"I always win," Matthew replied, adjusting his seat so that it was lying back a little more. Caleb rolled his eyes and continued towards the nearest restaurant.