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Friday - September 17

Commerce is practically at a halt. Most businesses are closed due to the lack of products, or to the lack of personnel. Either way, looting's the number one activity for anyone who's still trying to survive, uncaring about the consequences that may occur. While the military's trying to enforce the law on looting, they understand that it's pointless to kill those who may already be tainted with the disease. Anyway, the military is just as guilty of pilfering, too.

At 5:00 p.m., President Mansoor will be speaking live, which is only one hour away. Her audience may not be a captive one; nonetheless, there are still those who look up to the leaders of the free world, and pray that their message will be one of hope, and possibly the words "It's over" will be pronounced.

As the Sun bursts boldly through the clouds, people cover their eyes due to its unexpected brightness. When their vision adjusts, they look up, and for a short time notice a glory adorning the sky. A small child, about four years old, holds hands with a young woman, perhaps a sister or mother, lets out a soft, pleasing "aw" sound, and asks, "Is that Jesus? Is He coming for us?"

The young woman looks down at the child, and says, "Yes, it is. It's our time to go home and be with Him."

The child continues to look at the glory, when she realizes that the young woman's no longer holding her hand. The child slowly turns her head and notices that only her hand stands alone in the wind. The young woman lies on the ground with foam bubbling from her mouth, and dark, red blood streaming from her eyes as if she's crying. The child releases a horrific piercing scream. A stranger nearby hears the child's scream, and turns around and sees the woman on the ground, convulsing, as the child panics by her side. Quickly, the stranger sprints to the child and snatches her up, then dashes away from the young woman as the deadly disease commences to devour her whole being. Another number is added to the toll.

Some people begin to run away, while others stay to watch the horrendous death of the young woman. But no one is aware of two men in a black limousine parked in front of our apartment along the avenue.

The two men exit the limo and earnestly look around, making sure that what they're visit will not be witnessed. Noticing that the public could care less about their existence, the two men walk up the stairs and knock, as if I, or Claire are there waiting for their arrival. Knowing we're not home, one of the men takes out a recorder and presses the play button. The recorder says, "Open up." It's Claire's voice. When the recorder ends, the front door unlocks, and the two men enter as if they were invited. They enter our home unsuspectingly, closing the door behind them.

Once in, one of the men nods his head to the other and signals for him to go to the back of our apartment and start searching; but, for what?

The other man searches the front of our apartment, turning over the furniture and throwing bric-a-brac everywhere. Obviously, making a lot of noise isn't a concern for them.

After several minutes pass, the man searching the back of our apartment enters the living room, saying, "I didn't find it. Any luck up here?"

The other man shakes his head no, and then says, "Start ripping shit from the walls. It's gotta be here." The intruders commence tearing the cupboards from the kitchen walls, turning over every piece of furniture and cleaning out every drawer and closet.

"Damn, man! Where is it?" says one of the men, as he begins to fatigue from the rampage.

"I don't know, man. We've torn everything apart."

"Should we call him and let him know?"

"He already knows."

After unsuccessfully rummaging through everything one more time, the two men exit our apartment, and drive off without seeing any signs of anyone caring about their presence.