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Wednesday - September 15

It's six o'clock in the morning and Atlanta's sirens sound off their new ritual. Slumbering citizens begin to exit their haven of shelter and are, once again, free to walk among the masses. As the inhabitants slowly, but cautiously, venture outside, Atlanta's air is fetid and the stench of death lingers among the living.

The streets start to become saturated as the living emerges. Previously, people passed each other without any concern; but now, they hauntingly stand and stare, wondering if the person next to them is responsible for the horrific nightmare destroying their existence. No one speaks. It is their deepest hope that they won't become affected by what the destroyer is depositing amongst them. The masses now fear of the announcement Jim Boyle had televised yesterday. Everyone's terrified of everyone.

Stores that once stayed open twenty-four seven prepare to open their doors. With only twelve hours to operate, proprietors eagerly receive customers as many prepare to shop for their needs, as well as for those who seek refuge from the bitter wind and cold.

The Piggly Wiggly store lights turn on and the electronic door is unlocked. Those who can afford to shop stand quietly in line, as the store manager announces over the speaker that the store is now open. Anxiously ready to purchase their needs, some people grab a cart and waddle like penguins as they shop.

An old woman removes her scarf and places it in her handbag. She lets out a small cough, when a store clerk yells out, "She's infected!" Customers and store workers drop everything, and immediately, an uncontrollable stampede proceeds to the front door.

As chaos prevails, store shelves begin to collapse, while people scream as they become disoriented in the exodus. The store manager's voice can barely be heard over the intercom as he tries to tell customers that everything is all right and to please stay calm. No one is listening. Customers rush as quickly as they can to the exit. A child yowls as customers become jammed in the doors, forcing themselves to be the first ones to squeeze through to the outside. A few customers stumble around, dazed and confused, as to what is occurring. Finally, within seconds, the store is drained of its occupants.

The manager opens his office door to silence, and slowly begins to survey the damage. Attentively, he walks through the store, when he comes to an abrupt halt and lets out a small whimper. He gawks in horror at what lies beneath his feet. The old woman who had let out the small cough had been trampled to death. Her face is completely bloodied, and her body is twisted and mangled. The manager instructs his shaky hands to untie his apron strings. He removes his apron, and respectfully lays it upon the old woman's lifeless body.

Standing in shock over the old woman's distorted figure, he hears footsteps running towards him. He turns around and sees armed men in hazmat suits rushing in military formation towards him. One of the men grabs the manager's arm and pulls him away from the old woman. Two other men open a body bag and hastily stuff the deceased woman into it. Quickly, the bag is zipped, and the armed men dash away with the old woman as they vacate the premises, leaving the store manager standing in solitude. He whispers softly to himself, "God, help us!"

When the military and the old woman depart, the manager walks hastily towards the front door, and gives a distant disbelief stare at the people outside. He slowly raises his hand to the stores security keypad and enters the code to secure the door. He turns around to view the chaos that only took seconds to destroy his store. Mystified, he walks back to his office, reaches for the doorknob, and then slowly closes the door behind him, shutting out the silence of despair.

People on the streets stand like statues, frozen in time. In silence, they watch the military quickly speed away with the dead old woman's trampled remains. As the sound of the military convoy becomes fainter, a bellowing scream is heard from someone around the corner. The crowd turns, and like a swarm of bees, they rush to see what's happening. When they arrive, they stop and push themselves closer to each other to see what the scream had drawn them to. A man, wearing an old faded Braves baseball cap, stands over a body. He turns around staring at the crowd, and steps aside for them to see his discovery. The crowd gasps, and while many continue to stare at the appalling sight, many of the onlookers begin to rush away in hopes that they have not been infected. Within minutes, the sirens begin to blare once more. Only fifteen minutes into the day and Atlanta is in total hysteria.