The world outside whizzed by in a blur of uncertainty as Edward and I continued our journey in the caravan of vehicles. An eerie stillness settled between us, a silence only punctuated by the rhythmic hum of the engine. It was as though the explosion in Seattle had cast a spell, rendering us both mute in its wake.

In the dimly lit interior of our car, the neon realization flashed bright in our minds - there was no turning back now. We had crossed a line, leaving behind the world we knew.

The car's radio had fallen silent, interrupted by a somber news report on a national channel. The stern voice on the broadcast detailed a massive earthquake that had rocked the state of Washington, triggering a series of explosions. The announcer strongly advised against traveling anywhere near the affected region.

The somber miles stretched on, each passing minute burdened by the weight of our thoughts. I finally broke the silence, turning to Edward.

"Edward, we're not far from our destination," I began, my voice steady. "It might be a good idea for you to lead the way. We can guide the others once we get there."

Edward, usually quick with a sarcastic quip, surprised me with a sudden outburst. "You know, Doc, this whole situation is a massive clusterf**k," he declared, his words laced with frustration. "There wasn't any damn earthquake; it was a goddamn execution right above Seattle. Millions, Isabella, millions gone in an instant."

His words hung heavily in the air as we both grappled with the enormity of what had transpired.

"Edward, consider this: in labs equipped to handle Category 4 viruses, the ultimate containment method, when all else fails, is often fire. The government must have viewed Seattle as a critical epicenter, and they decided to make a devastating sacrifice to safeguard the larger population. However, statistically speaking, the effectiveness of this solution in such a scenario is limited…"

My analytical mind couldn't help but delve into the data, and I continued, "You see, when it comes to dealing with infectious outbreaks, the variables are many, and the outcomes unpredictable. An isolated detonation might not prevent the further spread of the infection, given the complexities of contagion dynamics. It's a grim situation, Edward, but one that demands we focus on our own survival and those with us."

My mind raced with a flurry of thoughts, a whirlwind of considerations that flowed in a chaotic torrent. I spoke, almost unintelligibly at times, as my brain rapidly processed the situation.

"We need to move away from densely populated areas—possibly even the entire West Coast given the population density…..The government must have taken this epidemic very seriously. Maybe they received intel about the developments in Asia over the past few weeks and prepared for the worst…. With the magnitude of the explosions, there's a high chance the cabin might be without power now… Considering the scale of the blasts, there's also the possibility of radiation exposure," I rambled, my thoughts jumbling together.

Edward couldn't help but interject with his characteristic sarcasm, "Slow down there. You're racing ahead of my poor human brain."

But then, his tone softened, and he added, "But you know what, doc ? I'll follow your lead, no matter how fast you go. »

I felt a soft warmth unfurl within me at Edward's words, a gentle ember of gratitude that nestled itself in the corner of my heart. Yet, as was often my nature, I remained somewhat reserved, my appreciation unspoken. Instead, I offered him a timid smile, my way of conveying that his support meant more to me than words could express.

As the weight of our situation pressed down upon me, I realized that the most immediate course of action was to compile a list of essential items we should gather. I began mentally assembling this inventory, thinking of everything from food and water to medical supplies and communication devices. But before I could verbalize my plan to Edward, he interjected with a tone of urgency.

"Doc, I'm sorry, but I need you here with me," he implored. "you need to guide me to the cabin. It's not the time for solitary contemplation. Plus, we should think together, as a group. This is not the moment for a solo performance. We're talking ensemble cast here. Even the most brilliant minds," he added, raising an eyebrow playfully, "can occasionally use a little help from the peanut gallery ."

I nodded in agreement, recognizing the wisdom in Edward's words. While individual intelligence was a valuable asset, collaboration and unity were indispensable in the face of such a dire crisis.

Finally, our journey came to an end as we reached the cabin, a hidden treasure tucked away in the heart of the forest. The winding road unveiled a captivating scene, leaving me utterly spellbound. This modern architectural marvel, so unlike what I had pictured, sprawled elegantly in the clearing. Its rear wall, masterpiece of glass, offered awe-inspiring views of the lush, enveloping greenery.

Edward expertly guided our car onto the gravel driveway, leading the procession that included the ambulance and the van, trailed by five other vehicles. As we parked, Emmett, always the first to leap into action, stepped onto the forest floor. In an instant, a dazzling beam of light illuminated the porch, casting a surreal radiance upon a man in his forties, his hair a cascade of glistening gold. He emerged from the cabin's entrance, a sentinel armed and ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

The man immediately addressed the gathering of survivors, his voice calm yet authoritative. "What's going on? It's 4 in the morning! What are you people doing on my property?"

Emmett, approaching the light, appeared to ease the tension slightly as the man recognized the police uniform. "Sir, we thought the cabin was vacant. A reservation was made in the name of Dr. Isabella Swan a few days ago. We didn't expect to find it occupied."

He scratched his head, clearly grappling with the unusual situation before him. "I rented out a smaller cabin further away, thinking that would be just right for folks wanting to escape to nature's embrace, not this... entourage. What's the story here?"

With a touch of bewilderment in his tone, the man rubbed his forehead as he continued, "I mean, don't get me wrong, but I don't usually get requests like this. A doctor, a prisoner, an ambulance, and this whole crew wanting my little cabin? The ad specifically said 'no party animals,' you know."

He went on with a impassioned speech about the need to preserve the woods' tranquility and the frustration he felt when visitors disrupted the sanctity of the area, Isabella couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. She had an innate respect for nature herself and was starting to understand the man's perspective.

She decided to address his concerns directly. "Sir, I completely appreciate your commitment to preserving this serene environment. We are indeed an unusual group, but there's a reason for our urgency. If you allow us to stay here for just a short while, I promise to clarify everything. In these uncertain times, it's crucial that we don't stay outside, making noise that could draw unwanted attention."

The man, after considering Isabella's explanation, reluctantly agreed, moving aside to let them enter the cabin. "Alright, but make it quick. I don't want any trouble here."

As they entered the cabin, the tension from outside began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of relief that they had found temporary shelter.

A voice rang out from the staircase leading to the upper floors of the house. "Carlisle ? What's going on ? Who are all these people ?"

Carlisle, with an air of resignation, replied, "It appears to be the group that rented the lookout cabin. Perhaps it's time to update the listing."

In response, a woman with an air of grace and composure descended the stairs. She possessed a regal presence, and her serene demeanor instilled a sense of comfort in the group.

The woman approached the gathering and extended her hand to Isabella. "I'm Elisabeth Cullen," she introduced herself, "and this is our family's property. I must apologize for the earlier confusion. It appears there was a mix-up concerning the rental. Please, come inside. We need to discuss matters further."

Inside, they were embraced by the gentle ambiance of an interior dressed in soft creams and pastels. The living room, sprawling and inviting, featured plush, extended sofas that seemed to beckon tired travelers to rest. An elegant grand piano took center stage on a raised platform, adding a touch of refined charm to the cabin's rustic allure.

Isabella, guided by her keen sense of observation, swiftly cataloged the faces that had ventured here together. Familiar ones included Jasper, the warm-hearted van driver who had led her to the pharmacy, and Eric, now pale and fatigued, slouched onto a couch with a roughly bandaged hand. Ben, his youthful assistant, hovered nearby, his anxious gaze flitting about like a nervous bird.

Rosalie, despite her weariness, had positioned herself close to Emmett, while her two more reticent sisters sought solace in a quiet corner. Isabella then turned her attention to those she hadn't had the chance to identify earlier: two teenagers, one with an Afro-American complexion and the other sporting wild, fiery-red hair. Their clothing choices veered towards the unconventional.

An unremarkable man in a brown suit seemed to blend seamlessly into the cabin's backdrop, his appearance screaming anonymity. Nearby, a retired couple occupied a sofa, the husband boasting an impressive salt-and-pepper mustache, while his wife, a blonde with brown eyes and tightly curled locks, clutched her handbag with a protective fervor.

A family unit, consisting of a father, mother, and a young girl of approximately ten, hinted at Native American heritage. The mother radiated a mix of protectiveness and apprehension, fiercely safeguarding her daughter.

Adding a vivid splash of color and flamboyance to the eclectic assembly, a striking drag queen graced the room with an unapologetically confident presence.

But the unfolding tableau of diverse characters wasn't complete yet. A woman with brown eyes behind glasses, her chestnut hair neatly tied up in a loose bun, adorned in a colorful T-shirt and a humorously oversized necklace, added a touch of quirkiness to the group. Standing beside her was a man with an austere countenance, his long hair cascading down to his shoulders, clad in a rugged leather jacket adorned with tattoos, and emanating an unmistakable biker vibe.

Elisabeth, a gracious host with an inclination for orderliness, spoke up to address their unexpected guests. "Please, try to keep the noise down. Our children are asleep," she said, her voice carrying an air of politeness despite the circumstances. She offered refreshments, trying to maintain some semblance of hospitality.

But then Carlisle, her husband, interjected with a more pragmatic tone. "Before we get too comfortable, perhaps we should understand why we have this late-night gathering in the first place."

Emmett, never one to beat around the bush, took the lead. "Folks, I hate to break it to you, but Seattle's been bombed, and it's pretty much gone," he announced, his words hitting the room like a heavy weight. Elisabeth and Carlisle's faces twisted in disbelief, caught in the grip of denial. The rest of the group shared that sentiment, hesitating to meet their hosts' bewildered gazes.

In a state of denial, Carlisle rushed to the television, frantically changing channels, though they all remained blank. His next move was to locate his satellite receiver, arguing that, given their remote forest location, satellite hiccups were commonplace. He dismissed any sense of urgency, insisting there was no need for panic.

Emmett, feeling the need to clarify, leaned in and, in his typically direct manner, began to explain, "the bustling city we all know and love, well, it's pretty much wiped off the map. But here's the kicker, folks, it looks like that mysterious disease we've been hearing whispers about , the « asian flu » has made its grand entrance right here on American soil. And this isn't your everyday kind of disease. It's more like a 'let's devour each other' type of party."

Carlisle, his brow furrowing deeper with skepticism, interjected with an incredulous, "Now, hold on just a moment. Are you telling me that people are turning into... what, exactly?"

Emmett nodded and continued, "I know, it sounds insane, but it's true. People are...changing. They're becoming aggressive, animalistic, ….cannibalistic even ….and they're not exactly craving a friendly chat over a cup of tea. It's like some twisted horror movie come to life. We've seen it firsthand out there."

Carlisle's initial incredulity and frustration gave way to disbelief as he listened to Emmett's account. He was convinced that what he was hearing couldn't possibly be true. He implored, "Are you serious? This sounds like some wild, absurd story. I think it's time for all of you to leave and spare my family from this nonsense."

"If this is some sort of twisted prank, Officer, it's not amusing at all. I'm just a step away from calling the real local authorities. We take a dim view of individuals impersonating law enforcement around here. These woods are deep, and they offer the perfect backdrop for a little homemade justice, if you catch my drift!"

Elisabeth, noticing her husband's growing agitation, stepped in with a calming demeanor. She placed a gentle hand on Carlisle's shoulder and said softly, "Carlisle, dear, perhaps we should hear them out. It wouldn't hurt to listen to their story and consider the options. We can decide what to do next once we have all the facts."

Eric, despite the pain etched across his face, mustered the strength to stand. He spoke with urgency, "Sir, you have no idea what we witnessed out there before fleeing the city. You don't grasp the danger we're all in." He went on to describe his encounter with a severely injured man who had brutally attacked him, biting into his shoulder and even trying to devour a portion of his hand. To emphasize his point, Eric unwrapped his bandage, revealing the gruesome wounds beneath.

The fiery-haired teenage girl, her voice trembling with fear, added her account. "It was a damn massacre at the pharmacy," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. "My friend got bit on the leg, and I saw her turn on the pharmacist... start eating him. We barely escaped in Jasper's van."

Carlisle then continued with a mix of anger, concern, and doubt in his voice, "Look, I understand this sounds like something out of a nightmare. But we must remain rational. There could be a reasonable explanation. Perhaps some kind of mass hysteria, an outbreak of psychosis—anything but... this."

As the others explained the horrors they had witnessed, Carlisle sighed deeply, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I'm sorry. We've always been a family that values science and reason. This... this just defies everything I know to be true about the natural world. We must approach this with caution and gather as much information as we can before jumping to any conclusions."

Charlie, the mustached elder, spoke up with a calm tone, "I hate to interrupt, but despite my age, I've never heard of an epidemic that turns people into bloodthirsty creatures. I'm not entirely sure we can even call this situation an 'epidemic'."

Quil, the flamboyant drag queen, captured everyone's attention as they spoke with a deep and unwavering voice. "Well, 'stache," they affectionately addressed Charlie, "I must say, I wholeheartedly agree with your sentiments. Whether we chalk it up to divine intervention or an extraterrestrial virus, there's simply no scientific explanation that fits the bill for the madness we've witnessed." Quil's words carried an air of authority and confidence that resonated in the room.

With a sly glint in their eye, Quil playfully shifted the spotlight to Emmett, their tone dripping with humor. "Officer Bear, my dear, why, oh why, would you even consider linking our little 'flu' outbreak in Asia from last month to this catastrophe ? There's hardly a connection worth mentioning ?"

Emmett's hesitation hung in the air for a brief moment, and I could sense his internal debate. He was on the verge of explaining the connection he had made between the recent surge in violent incidents and cannibalism and the reports of an epidemic that had gripped Asia in the past month. Apart from the eerie timing, the only reason he'd forged this link was the conversation we'd shared outside the police station just before chaos had descended upon us.

His eyes briefly met mine, and it was clear that curiosity had gotten the better of him. With a playful quirk of my lips, I knew it was time to provide some answers.

"You know, Isabella," he began, "I'm really curious about something. How did you manage to be so well-informed that you got all your stuff packed up and drove far away from Seattle before the city went up in smoke?"

" "Well," I began, my voice steady, "it's not unrelated to the fact that I am an epidemiologist who's been researching some unusual patterns in global health crises." I chuckled lightly, trying to downplay my precocious knowledge. "I guess you could say I had a hunch that something big was on the horizon. I was... aware of certain developments and chose to leave the city before everything went south. It's complicated, and there's much to explain."

Carlisle's eyebrows furrowed, his skepticism still lingering. "Developments? What kind of developments?" he pressed, his earlier anger now replaced with curiosity.

I took a moment, my mind racing as I tried to find the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. "Indeed, there were reports of an outbreak in Asia," I began, my voice carrying the weight of the knowledge I possessed. "And it had raised quite a few eyebrows, even among some high-ranking officials. The concern was that it appeared to be spreading at an alarming rate, and there were fears it could eventually reach the United States."

As the room hung on my words, I delved deeper into the story. "In the same time, a few weeks ago, representatives from the CDC paid a visit to the laboratory where I worked," I continued. "They presented us with a newly discovered prokaryote that was slated to be the focus of a research group. They were seeking volunteers to study this unique microorganism."

Pausing for a moment, I added, "I chose not to be part of that research group. Something about the whole situation felt off to me. It was clear that the information they provided was incomplete, and I suspected that the CDC wasn't being entirely forthcoming with the truth."

Emmett, with his seasoned detective instincts, seized upon the critical question that had likely been on everyone's mind. "So,Doc," he inquired, "how could you be so sure that the CDC wasn't being honest about the prokaryote, and what does that have to do with the epidemic in Asia?"

I continued to share my knowledge, revealing a piece of the puzzle "You see," I explained, "I knew the CDC was full of it because I was already familiar with that prokaryote. In fact, I had theorized its creation in a research article I wrote several years ago when I was still a student."

The room fell silent as I continued. "Back then, my professor had taken my research and claimed it as his own. I convinced him not to pursue the practical application and synthesis of the prokaryote, citing its inherent instability… I was trying to find a way to alter a small part of the human genetic code, partly to address the increasing oxygen deficiency in Earth's atmosphere. So, I knew the prokaryote was fully capable of infiltrating a human organism, despite the CDC's adamant denials."

Emmettcouldn't resist interjecting with a playful tone, "Doc, as fascinating as all of this is, I'm still not seeing the connection to our current situation."

I pressed on, determined to make my point as succinctly as possible. "This prokaryote, in its current state, is incredibly dangerous. It should have undergone extensive modifications and testing before any attempt at synthesis. We're talking years of work here. You see, this organism was designed to induce such a significant alteration in the human being that it could be seen as a leap in our species' evolution."

I theorized further, "Someone, somewhere, wanted to reap the benefits of such advancement without considering the potential consequences for the entire human race. Of course, to be absolutely certain, I'd need to examine an infected individual. But I have a theory about why a company would take such a risk."

I continued with my explanation, "Four years ago, laboratories worldwide shifted their research focus drastically, dedicating almost all their efforts to a common goal: eradicating the coronavirus that had triggered an economic and social tsunami across continents. This race against time resulted in monumental diplomatic consequences."

I concluded my theory by suggesting, "I believe that a less scrupulous country or laboratory might have seen the remarkable properties of the prokaryote as an opportunity to manufacture a new generation of 'vaccine.' These vaccines, on the surface, could eliminate the genetic vulnerability that made humans susceptible to the coronavirus. In fact, the prokaryote, originally designed to enhance lung efficiency and oxygen utilization while increasing overall resistance, proved particularly adept at combating a virus that primarily targeted the respiratory system. Additionally, it could provide genetic resistance to future infections. I won't lie ; I explored this possibility myself. But, as I mentioned, the prokaryote required years of manipulation before it could be controlled."

In the absolute silence of my audience, I concluded, "We've all heard the statistics about coronavirus infections, and, coincidentally, the Asian continent had a significantly lower rate of infection and death proportionally. When American companies owned by Asian funds inexplicably began shutting their doors a few weeks ago, I started paying attention to their news. Very little information was provided by authorities, media, or even the more obscure channels. It was as if a part of the entire continent had sealed itself off even more strictly than we experienced during the Covid crisis. I don't have a concrete answer to what might have happened. Perhaps in the panic, someone stumbled upon my research. Maybe my old professor wanted to profit, or the government sought to weaken an adversary without realizing the extent of the consequences. But one thing is certain: I want to continue my research and understand what will become of all of us."