Ok, Who Got Bitten?

The End is Nigh

"Where's mom and dad?"

That was the first thing my sister asked me as we shuffled through our drawers, looking for clothes and batteries for our flashlights-- anything useful that we could carry without too much effort. It's weird-- her first question wasn't, "How do you know it's the zombie apocalypse?" or "You're crazy and probably need a strait jacket". My sister took one look at my face and just knew. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead and I felt as if maybe I had a manic sort of look on my face. My urgency alone was probably enough to seal the deal. So, instead of hurling mutlitudes of questions my way, which any sane person may have done, her face contorted and she'd asked me where mom and dad were. The words of a child, the four words which mattered most. Where's mom and dad. 

The question planted a seed of fear in my mind. I hadn't even thought about them until now. Where were they, exactly? I knew they had gone out earlier for groceries, but it had been three hours since then. Could they still be out shopping, or had a worse fate befallen them in such a short time span?   

No, it couldn't have. They were just stuck in line at Wal-mart, that was it. Trapped behind one of those old women who bought cartloads of items and dumped their crumpled, expired coupons onto the counter, arguing with the cashier and making everyone behind them roll their eyes and glare. Yeah, that's right. No need to panic.

My mind ignored the rationality and decided to sift through various scenarios, all bad, all gruesome.   A morbid curiosity and active imagination was not always a good thing, and as my sister stuffed odds and ends into her pack I couldn't get the images of my parents' corpses out of my head. I'd have to go after them, I'd have to go save them, I just had to find out where they went and--

Stop it! You're jumpng to conclusions, just calm down and stay focused, I chastised myself. Going out there blindly's what's going to get you killed.

Exhaling slowly, I composed myself just enough to find some small voice of reason, some bit of cautious instinct to follow. I had to get us safe first. Set up somewhere to go back to, figure out what we're up against, and then go out to find them. I couldn't accept that they might be gone, but then again... I couldn't be certain that they were still okay, either.

I made up my mind to wait another hour before leaving. It hurt to think that they wouldn't be coming home later, but seconds were precious and we'd be no help to anyone as walking meat slabs.

"They went out," I finally answered my sister, and, catching the fearful look in her eye, quickly added, "but they should be back any time. The fact is, we can't stay here."

If looks could kill, I'd be stone cold dead.

"I'm not leaving until they're home. Plain and simple," Rachael said, and then with a twinge of disgust, " I can't believe you would even suggest that."

"Trust me on this; in any natural disaster-- or any kind of disaster at that-- civilization crumbles faster than dried out sandcastles in the wind. Look at all the looting that took place in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. Now let's multiply that by one hundred. What we need to do right now-- what the best course of action would be-- is to find some place where we won't be trapped once people start panicking. Right now everything's calm, but that's because it just happened."

Rachael raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I saw it on channel 7. Lady climbs right on out of a mangled car and goes Hannibal Lecter on the reporter. Maybe it's coincidence, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. Just give me a day or two. If I'm wrong, the worst thing that'll happen is we get our asses waxed for disappearing and you can call me an idiot for a couple years. But if I'm right-- and this is something I'm not hoping for-- the worst that will happen is that we die a nasty death. Now, I'd wager that the former is much more appealing than the latter, hm?"