As I step into the open air, a brisk breeze greets me with a stinging caress, leaving me momentarily bewildered about the source of Edward's agitation. I hasten my steps to match the frantic pace set by the cop and the thief. A heartbeat later, my gaze is inexorably drawn to the threshold of the police station and I understand the reason behind the abrupt hush that replaced the previously bustling parking lot.

Behind the transparent veil of glass, pandemonium seems to have erupted. Bodies entangled in a desperate struggle, locked in a macabre dance, sprays of blood against the windows masking parts of the scene. The tumult beyond the transparent barrier escalates, an agonizing crescendo that foreshadows the shattering of the silence enveloping the once-lively parking lot.

I'm transfixed by the unfolding spectacle, absorbing every detail yet unable to fixate on anything in particular. My mind races….i would need a sample of the blood, a spinal tap would be ideal, a piece of tissue… the specimens seem to use their bite as the primary means of propagation. The living mural resembles a feast, a gruesome masterpiece.

Here in this paradox, I linger, suspended between the visceral repulsion and the enchantment of the inexplicable. The certainties I held dear erode, reality fissures, and before me materializes a vision both otherworldly and horrifying.

I hear a voice murmuring "For the love of Fuck," echoing without me being able to identify its source.

In the maelstrom of unfolding chaos, a sudden touch upon my legs propels me into an unpredictable whirl. My body is hoisted with surprising strength, suspended above a resolute shoulder. Brief panic courses through me, swiftly overtaken by an almost calming realization. My eyes flutter open, greeted by the all-too-familiar sight of the standard prison-issue attire. The disoriented question echoes on the fringes of my senses, a voice gasping for control as it inquires about our destination.

The officer's once-authoritative tone has dissipated into breathless uncertainty. My response tumbles instinctively from my lips, "My car," barely audible as my suspended position mutes my words. Yet, moments later, the reassuring confirmation comes in the form of a hazy blue hue—the unmistakable color of my vehicle.

I am unceremoniously repositioned on my feet, at the same time cries of terror rend the air. A mutual understanding forms between us, spoken without words—we all grasp that the heart of horror has taken root in the very parking lot precinct we fled. My trembling fingers fumble frantically for my keys, hindered by their own trepidation. Almost magically, hands explore my pockets, then my purse, until the jangle of keys announces their discovery.

Edward, unbidden, strives to unlock the rear door, his intentions considerate yet misguided, as I recall my belongings resting there. Swiftly, I correct our course, allowing myself to be settled upon his lap in the front seat, an intimacy born of urgency and necessity. Emmett's silhouette takes the driver's seat, and with a roar, the engine thrums to life, vibrating with determination. And so, we plunge headlong into the streets of Seattle, a race against time, each heartbeat an echo of the city's frenzied pulse.

The world beyond the windows blends into a swirl of lights and shadows, each turn we negotiate is a tangle of uncertainties, each street a passage fraught with peril. The city's once-familiar and welcoming architecture transforms into a labyrinth where every corner conceals a potential threat.

As we speed through the streets, fleeting images come into view—the flicker of despair in pedestrians' eyes, the surreal spectacle of abandoned vehicles, the distant chorus of sirens harmonizing with our own frenzied rhythm. Time bends, stretches, and folds in on itself, blurring the boundary between reality and nightmare.

At the heart of this maelstrom, Edward's grasp tightens around me, an anchor in the turmoil. Emmett's eyes remain steadfastly fixed on the road ahead, his hands steady on the wheel. A silent understanding resonates between us, a shared purpose in the face of impenetrable adversity.

Emmett, with his irreverent voice and knack for humor, shatters the oppressive silence. " So, where exactly are we headin', folks? My place ain't in this direction," he remarks, his tone a force blend of camaraderie and jest.

Edward chuckles from his place at my back. "Well, I can't say I know where 'home' is, but I'm not exactly in the business of bringing guests over." His voice carries a playful edge, a stark contrast to the dire situation surrounding us.

Emmett's reply blushes with a touch of embarrassment, his humor momentarily overshadowed by the reminder of his official duties. "Yeah, well, I might have momentarily forgotten that my duty is to escort you back to prison, not to my shindig."

Emmett's voice takes on a mix of humor and genuine confusion, like a detective grappling with an unsolvable case. "You know, guys, I can't shake off what I saw back at the precinct. It's like... a real-life nightmare. People tearing into each other like some sort of twisted frenzy. I mean, what could possibly drive people to such madness? Did I miss the memo on a new 'extreme diet' trend?"

Edward's laughter dances through the air, a stark contrast to the grimness of the situation outside our car's windows. "Ah, peaple are always on the hunt for the latest food fads !"

I manage a faint smile, thankful for the lighthearted moment amidst the impending darkness. "Indeed, Edward. It appears the culinary world has taken a rather... aggressive turn."

Emmett's gaze drifts to the rearview mirror, a shadow of perplexity crossing his features as he grapples with the disturbing puzzle. "But seriously, I'm scratching my head here. I've encountered my fair share of bizarre situations on duty, but this? This is like something out of a fever dream, a reality warp."

Before the playful exchange gains more traction, I assert my authority with a tone that demands attention. "Gentlemen, as entertaining as this banter is, our top priority is to get out of the downtown area. A quarantine is about to descend upon us, and I'd rather not find ourselves trapped within its confines."

Emmett's eyes widen in surprise at my mention of a quarantine. His skepticism briefly takes a back seat to genuine concern as he shifts his gaze between me and the chaotic streets beyond. "Quarantine? Hold on a minute, Doc. Are you saying this mess is going to be locked down?"

Edward's voice carries a touch of dry wit, as murmured. " I hope they play some dramatic music while they seal off the exits."

Even though his pragmatism impresses me, I can't help but disapprove of the dark humor that Edward can't seem to resist using – he lacks a certain tact. I wonder if his parents reprimanded him frequently when he was a child. "Indeed. The city is teetering on the edge, and it won't be long before drastic measures are taken."

Emmett's brow furrows in a mix of confusion and curiosity, his skepticism momentarily subdued. "But what about that scene we witnessed at the precinct? It was like... carnage in there. You think it's an outbreak ? You think the epidemie we've been hearing about and the violent incidents are connected? And, uh, the cannibalism... is that thing contagious?"

My lips curve into a faint grimace as I consider the depth of his questions. "Emmett, the situation is complex and unprecedented. I can't provide definitive answers, but the timing of these events is more than coincidence. As for the behavior you witnessed, it's possible that this outbreak has some influence over people's actions. And as for the cannibalism... well, we're dealing with something that defies the norms of biology as we know them."

Emmett leans back, his humor interlaced with a hint of disbelief. " Did someone slip something strange into the water supply? So, hypothetically, Doc, how do we even know we haven't been infected already? I mean, that parking lot was like a buffet for the... well, whatever those folks were."

I sigh softly, my gaze shifting to the road ahead. "Truth be told, Emmett, I can't definitively say whether we've been exposed. That's actually one of the reasons I wanted to speak with Edward when I came to the precinct. He had close contact with an infected individual earlier today, and I wanted to examine him for any signs."

Edward's response comes with a sly grin, his tone salacious. "Well, well, Doc, didn't know you were interested in a close examination. »

Emmett's brows knit together in genuine uncertainty, his sense of duty clashing with the urgency of our situation. "I hear you, Doc, but my team's still out there. I can't just leave them hanging."

Edward, his sense of humor sharp even in these dire times, interjects with a sardonic smile, "Oh, I'm sure your zombified colleagues will welcome you back with open arms, Officer McCarty."

Emmett's jovial demeanor turns sour at Edward's remark. "Real funny, buddy. This is serious business. I've got responsibilities, and I can't just bail."

My voice carries a determined edge, mingled with empathy.

"I acknowledge the dedication you hold, Emmett, and your steadfast commitment to your team is admirable. But remaining here now won't serve your colleagues or the city. The quarantine might just be the beginning of the severe measures authorities are likely to take. I implore you to place your trust in me, to believe that a cure isn't forthcoming, and that our lives teeter on the edge. If you're seeking a reason to persevere, to find purpose, then join me. Our combined expertise might hold the key to unraveling the truth."

Emmett's sigh reflects his inner battle. "Dammit, Doc, you're not wrong. But it feels like I'm abandoning my post."

Edward chimes in from the back seat, his tone laced with sarcastic humor, "Oh, how noble, Officer McCarty, the last bastion of law and order in a crumbling world."

Emmett shoots Edward a quick glance, a mix of amusement and annoyance playing on his face, "You know, I might just leave you stranded somewhere, and then you won't have to worry 'bout me bein' noble."

« if I recall correctly, You didn't seem in a hurry to defend your colleagues when we were making our grand escape from that parking lot. So, forgive me if I don't find your moral high ground all that convincing."

I interject, my voice steady and thoughtful, "Gentlemen, while the light-hearted exchange certainly keeps us on our toes, let's focus on our next move. I'm well aware that the pressing question remains: where do we head? Given the abruptness of today's events, it's possible we're among the first cities in the U.S. to get hit this hard. And you know what that means — they won't be gentle."

In few seconds, I mentally sketch a potential timeline for the coming events. "First, we'll have the political reassurances, those empty promises meant to pacify the masses — 'Stay home,' 'We've got this under control.' It's all an illusion of power. But then, disillusionment will hit. Quarantine efforts will fail, the Marshall Plan will fall flat on its face, borders will slam shut, and governments will evaporate faster than you can say 'democracy.' The infrastructure, neglected for years due to short-sighted fiscal policies, will crumble before our eyes. Water will stop flowing, electricity will flicker and die... and chaos will reign. It's chaos fueled by panic and the primal instinct to survive."

Emmett's raised eyebrows mirrored my own astonishment at how swiftly I'd managed to sum up the impending disaster. He scratched his head with a chuckle, the skepticism underlying his words softened by his good-natured demeanor. "Well, Doc, you've got that crystal ball working overtime, don't ya? But hey, we've survived a fair bit already. People are resilient, you know."

Edward's voice cut through, his tone less reassuring and more accepting of the bleak prediction. "Can't argue with the truth, can we? Society's a fragile façade, one crisis away from revealing its true face." His words dripped with irony and a hint of sarcasm, betraying his lack of faith in the establishment. "And believe me, spending some time behind bars gives you a unique perspective on the underbelly of it all."

I met their reactions with a half-smile, a mix of appreciation and understanding. "Oh, I'm well aware of human resilience, Emmett. And you're right, Edward, a crisis like this only amplifies what's already simmering beneath the surface."

Emmett's grin remained, though his eyes held a glimmer of seriousness. "Look, even in the midst of all this craziness, folks are still gonna cling to some sense of normalcy. They'll pull together, protect their own."

Edward's voice was tinged with bitterness. "Protect their own, yes, but at what cost? Survival of the fittest isn't just a catchphrase now. It's a grim reality."

As we continued our exchange, our words wove a tapestry of perspectives, each one reflecting a unique facet of our understanding. The air in the car seemed charged with the weight of our realizations.

As if on cue, Edward jumps in with his signature deadpan humor, "And here I was thinking this would be a great time to start a canned beans business."

Emmett's chuckles blend with the tension in the air, and he nods at Edward's quip. But then his expression turns thoughtful again, "But Doc, seriously, where the hell should we go? I mean, everything's gone bonkers."

I understood the gravity of the situation all too well. I couldn't possibly work in these conditions. Despite that knowledge, I also understood that now wasn't the time to embark on a journey to the sanctuary. By now, military vessels from around the world would be patrolling international waters, enforcing quarantines and securing safe havens for troops. But that wasn't all; the more I thought about it, the more I felt a vital piece of the puzzle was overlooked during my preparations with the Hidden Minds.

If our objective was to shield humanity, it was plausible that repopulation could eventually become a necessity. This, in turn, would necessitate the intricate task of selecting individuals deemed worthy of inheriting this precarious world. The idea of an epidemic acting as a form of natural selection to determine the traits required for rebuilding lost civilizations struck me as profoundly significant. Regrettably, I could not openly share these musings with my companions. Were they to catch wind of my contemplations, they might insist on the sanctuary journey without fully understanding my concerns about safeguarding what mattered most to me.

In light of this, I opted to broach the topic of the cabin I had secured a few hours outside Seattle. Naturally, the locale wasn't optimal. While the cabin itself offered seclusion, it lacked genuine security measures. It was unforeseen, at the time of making this contingency plan, that I would have to factor in the necessity of defending myself against aggressive undead.

Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, I met Emmett's inquisitive gaze and Edward's sardonic smirk. "There is a cabin I have arranged for not far from here," I began, maintaining a composed tone with a subtle undertone of urgency. "Admittedly, the location is less than ideal, and its defensive capabilities are limited. Nevertheless, it offers a space to regroup and strategize our next steps."

Emmett's eyebrows lifted, skepticism etched on his face. "A cabin, huh? And what makes you think that's gonna be any safer than this?"

Understanding his skepticism, I sought to reassure him. "I appreciate your reservations, Emmett. While it isn't the fortified stronghold we might envision, it's situated away from the urban tumult. We may find essential supplies and, hopefully, a conducive environment to think clearly."

Emmett's doubt lingered, yet a glimmer of curiosity sparkled in his eyes. "So, where precisely is this cabin situated?"

Pausing briefly to gauge the extent of information to disclose, I answered, "It is situated a few hours away from our current location, nestled deep within the woods. As I mentioned, the strategic value might be limited, but it is a step."

A chuckle escaped me, even as my thoughts persisted, grappling with the weight of my unspoken contemplations. The notion of a cabin in the woods felt like a momentary remedy, a mere pause within the tempest that was on the horizon. If only my companions could fathom the depths of my reflections — the grander scheme that cast its shadow over every move I made.

Our journey was briefly interrupted by the unexpected congestion at a crossroads. Cars were halted, and a small crowd had gathered in front of a pet store. Emmett's curiosity got the best of him, and he made a move to exit the car. I quickly reached out, my tone laced with concern, "Emmett, hold on! We can't afford to take unnecessary risks. There could be danger lurking."

Emmett shot me a playful grin, his determination undeterred. "Come on, Doc, I'm a cop, remember? Protect and serve, and all that. It's practically in my job description to go check things out. Besides, we gotta figure out a way to move forward, right?"

I sighed, realizing the validity of his point. We did need to find a way to move forward, and Emmett's authoritative presence could potentially help disperse the crowd. However, I wasn't ready to let go of my concerns just yet. "Emmett, you're right, but we don't even know what we're dealing with here. We've seen how unpredictable and aggressive those... infected can be."Just as I thought I'd convinced Emmett to stay put, Edward's sardonic voice broke in, his tone laced with dark humor. "Ah, the eternal dilemma. To go or not to go. »

Emmett winked at me, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his seat. "Don't you worry, Doc. If anything tries to mess with me, I'll just flash them my winning smile."

Edward, seizing the opportunity for his own brand of humor, interjected with a theatrical flourish. "And if that fails, remember, hit 'em in the brain! Seems to be the only thing that stopped the morning's 'zombie extravaganza,' as I like to call it."

Edward's remark about targeting the brain lingered in the air, a seed of revelation taking root in my thoughts. The video's silent narrative unveiled an unsettling truth: the prisoner, impervious to bullets that found their mark, only crumbled when Edward's blow struck his head.

With a wry grin, Emmett addressed the amusing spectacle of me and Edward's intertwined positions in the front seat, his words accompanied by a playfully raised brow, "Alright, lovebirds, hate to interrupt your cuddle time, but I'm no executioner for the suffering. I'll settle for just incapacitating them if I come across any of these... delightful individuals on my way."

I shifted slightly, disentangling myself from the human tangle in the car. My voice took on a more serious tone as I offered my insights. "Emmett, the infected are already in an advanced state of decomposition. There's no going back for them. They're driven by an instinct that's no longer their own."

It appears that Emmett is slowly recovering from the shock of what we witnessed and the potential loss of his colleagues. He seems more capable of assessing the situation around him. Just as if to confirm my thoughts, he begins to question me in a probing manner, his features etched with curiosity and a touch of bewilderment. "Isabella, it seems like you've been holding onto some classified intel. Why the sudden appearance at the station? And how on earth do you seem to have the inside scoop on all this chaos? Spill the beans, what's the real deal?"

Before I could delve into the explanations he sought, a sudden commotion outside diverted our attention. The crowd that had been gathered near the pet store had grown restless, and their movements caught our eyes as they seemed to surge forward.

Emmett's focus shifted back to the road, his expression hardening. "Seems like we've got a new development up ahead."