Rowen Ashworth was blind and deaf.

At least, that’s how she felt at the club. All of her senses were muffled by the blaring music, flashing lights, and writhing bodies all around her. It was overwhelming, but she loved every minute of it. The club was a place where she could escape from her regular life and just let go; let go of the stress of her job; let go of the pain of her recently deceased grandmother (well, her adoptive mother’s mother); let go of the bitterness of her breakup with Luke; let go of everything.

Deep inside, she knew the freedom she felt at the club wasn’t real, but she enjoyed it nevertheless. Besides, not all of it was superficial. She had made some good friends here over the past two years, friends who were in the same boat as she was: Trying to get away from their problems with wild parties and late night fun. Of course, Rowen didn’t go quite as far as some of them did. She never drank herself into oblivion or used drugs, and she never slipped off into the night with strange men. She had too much self respect for those kinds of idiotic ventures. Instead, she made sure to stay sober and keep her flirting within the walls of the club.

Tonight, she sat at the bar, sipping a martini—the only drink she would be having—and watching the other people dance and flirt in the ever-changing lowlights of the club. She wanted to join them, but she had to be at the police station early the next morning and didn’t want to be completely exhausted when she got there. In her line of work, sleep deprivation could be a career killer, and she was hoping to soon get promoted to be a real interrogator instead of just a simple intern. She couldn’t afford to screw up now.

Rowen took her phone out of her purse to check the time. It was already 11:30PM. She frowned, swirling the remnants of the drink in her glass sadly. If she wanted to be home and in bed by midnight, she had to leave now. She sighed and downed the rest of the martini, then tossed the strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed out. She hadn’t had much time to escape this time, but it was better than nothing.

--

…Doctors still don’t know what’s causing the outbreak, but they believe it originated in—

Rowen hit the snooze on her alarm clock, cutting off the morning radio host’s voice. She groaned and squinted at the digital clock face. It was 7:00AM, so she only had an hour before she had to be at the police station. She rolled out of bed and threw on a blue blouse and a pair of dress pants—fortunately she had prepared her outfit the day before, so she didn’t have to think about it in her morning haze—and shuffled into the bathroom to get ready.

Once her hair was brushed and she looked presentable, Rowen walked down the hallway to the kitchen, where her adoptive mother was serving her twin brothers eggs for breakfast. Okay, yes, she was 22 and still living with her parents, but she was also a debt-riddled college graduate living on the salary of an intern. She had plans to move out on her own, but she had to wait until she had a more stable career; something that, with a little luck, wouldn’t too much farther down the road.

“Morning,” Rowen stifled a yawn and sat down with her brothers at the table.

“Think it’s real?” one of the twins, Rory, asked, completely ignoring his sister’s greeting.

“Nah, can’t be,” the other twin, Casey, replied, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“What can’t be real?” Rowen inquired. She casually filled an empty plate with eggs for herself.

“This new deadly virus they’re talking about,” Rory gestured at the TV screen, which displayed an image of the anchorman for the local news.

“They’re saying it makes people go crazy,” Casey added. “The media’ll do anything to rile up its audience these days. I mean, come on. I believe there’s a disease, but it’s probably more like Ebola. People don’t lose their minds from sickness.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Rowen shrugged. “I can imagine it. I work with people who suffer from psychological disorders, after all. There are all sorts of causes for someone to go crazy.”

“Not like this,” Casey shook his head. He drew his phone from his pocket and searched a video, then handed it over to his sister to look at. “Check this out. I think it was faked, but Rory is convinced this is the real deal.”

Rowen took the phone from him and watched the video play out. The audio was loud and confusing, but after listening for a few seconds, she realized it was the sound of a number of people shouting in Chinese. They were surrounding one man, keeping him at bay with long, wooden rods. The man was making screeching noises unlike any creature she had ever heard and trying to charge at the the men with the rods. Spittle flew from his open mouth and his bloodshot eyes darted back and forth like a cornered animal. Rowen grimaced at the sight, “He looks like a rabid dog.”

“I know!” Casey threw his hands up and took his phone back. “They’re saying the virus did that to him, but I think these guys staged the video to freak people out. There isn’t any proof that this is real anyway.”

“But what if it is?” Rory interjected nervously. “I know it’s way far away in China, but still… this virus thing is pretty freaky.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ror,” Rowen said, finishing the last of her eggs and getting up from the table. “If it’s fake, there’s nothing to be afraid of, and even if it is real, I’m sure they’ll find a cure for it soon enough. Our medical field is so advanced it should take no time at all. Anyway, I’ve gotta run. I’m supposed to be at the station in ten minutes. You two behave, and I’ll be home soon.”

“Have a good day, Ro,” her mother kissed her on the cheek as she dropped off her dishes in the sink. “Don’t work too hard.”

“I’ll try,” Rowen rolled her eyes. She grabbed her briefcase for work and walked out to her car. When she turned on the ignition, she cursed. The needle for her gas gauge was on E. She must have been too tired the night before to notice the yellow light on her dashboard signaling that she needed to refill her tank. “Looks like I’m gonna be late…” she muttered, backing out of the driveway and heading to the nearest gas station.

"You remember Dawn?"

"Your wife? What about her?"

"She's having an affair-"

THWACK!

"-The Ski Instructor. I know."

THWACK!

A rubber ball bounced against a wall, ricocheting with every racket interaction. Two men, both similar in shape and size although greatly different in age danced between two opposing sides of the court. The ball rallied off each racket with continued frustration.

"Of all people, the ski instructor? Do I live in some kind of sitcom? It could have been her boss, but no; she chose the guy we both take lessons from." The older man dashed backwards, rushing to make the hit. He thrust out his arm and swung back to send the ball back towards his opponent.

"How do you know?" The second man spoke as he took a number of steps towards the ball and launched it against the front court.

"She told me!" Came with response with some violent exasperation that Jason turned in shock. The man made a rush forwards and missed completely, the ball bouncing against the glass door. "She just came out and told me."

"Shit, Hank. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, kid. I should have seen it coming. What wife would be happy with a husband who cares more about his job than spending time with her and the kids? It just feels different when it happens." The conversation turned silent almost immediately. The air uncomfortable enough to feel. "Come on, our time is up." The pair of them collected their belongings and stepped into the hall.

Jason walked his friend wordlessly to the parking lot and parted ways. He'd known Hank since his first day; a cheerful individual with caring personality. His team were his family. It hurt to see the man as broken as he seemed now. With a thud, Jason dropped his bag into the trunk and climbed into the driver's seat. His shoulders ached, his feet sore, his head throbbing. Today had been, well, eventful. He needed a holiday, somewhere remote.

A short twist of his wrist and the machine rumbled to life. The late evening traffic made life abhorrent but not as ridiculous as earlier times. Jason drove in silence until he his reached his home. A modest location, suburbs, quiet, with a close proximity to the wilderness. It wasn't perfect but it was home. He eased the car onto concrete path, stones cracking underneath his tires. The neighborhood was silent, it always was. He'd often wondered if he'd ever notice if they all left. Aside from the lights and occasional car, he was alone. He enjoyed the solitude at times; although at times its was crippling. He could relax easily out here but he was far from friends, far from that helping hand when he needed it most.

With a click, he let himself in the house, fumbling for a light switch. The bulb flickered before illuminating the kitchen and hall.

"I'm home." He called to no one in particular, mocking his own loneliness. Life would have been nice with someone to share a home with but if college had taught him anything- Jason dumped his bag on the kitchen counter and made his way to the shower. He undressed and waited as the water heated, turning on the TV in his room.

"- fourteen confirmed cases in Guizhou province and four in Beijing today alone. Officials across Europe and The Middle East have issued China as a No Fly Zone unless with good reason."

The water hit his shoulders with speed, heat dispersing along his skin, radiating into his muscles. It felt tranquil, his muscles unwinding from their balls of stress.

"The World Health Organisation have confirmed cases in Thailand, Vietnam, Brazil and The Philippines. An official has reported that further cases may be reported in other countries as the outbreak continues. Remember if you see any of the symptoms: a ragged cough, blood shot eyes, or increased sensitivity to lights, inform a doctor immediately."

Jason drifted off into his own thoughts, blissfully ignorant to the severity of the news report. It was concerning but it was of no concern to his country. Air port security was tighter and flights from infected countries were screened prior to arrival; it was impossible for it to get in. If the disease did get in, well, they had the CDC. It wouldn't take long to contain.

"Whilst the disease does carry a high death toll, early medical attention can increase the chances of survival."

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he wondered back into his room and yawned audibly. His attention shifted to the news as a towel and a pair of hands rose up to tossel brown hair.

"One video has been circling the web reporting violent aggression from one individual case in China." The TV shifted towards a shaky video displaying one man and a dozen others. The shouts were incredibly loud, distressed and scared. The man in the middle seemed cantankerous and aggressive. His teeth clenched together at those around his, his arms lashing out at the poles. "The distressing nature of this video has caused alarm online but this has been confirmed to be fake. Reports indicate this is part of a Chinese film to be released later next year."

Jason furrowed his eyebrows as his mind turned back to the man, vicious and combative. It was a troubling image. His thoughts passed over Anabolic steroids, cocaine, bath salts and heroine as a cause. There was no way to deny the image of the rabid man stayed with him until morning.

As the sun kissed the horizon, the ringing sound of Jason's alarm met the sleeping world and pulled the man from his slumber. He really needed a holiday. After a moment of snoozing, he forced himself out of bed and flicked on the TV. The sounds kept him awake, reminding him of the time.

"-another fantastic victory for the Rangers, but will we see them in the play offs this year?"

He bumbled about his room, pulling himself into a clean uniform. His body had begun to slowly wake up but his brain lacked the key ingredient: caffeine.

"Now to our top story: The Dryditch Fever in China and its surrounding countries. Reports have indicated-" Jason twisted his tie about his neck and turned off the report. It was the same every day. It seemed so similar to the Ebola outbreak years before. Report after report. When were they going to cure this thing? The man continued through the house, taking his belongings from his bag as he passed. Badge, phone, keys, gun, cuffs. His eyes stopped on the coffee machine; already late, he had no time. He piled himself into his car and made his way to the gas station closest to work.

The drive was as awful as usual. Tired drivers in tired cars, all late and all in a desperate rush. The sky loomed grey and the distant clouds ominously predicted the grizzly future for the day. He turned on his blinker and pulled into the station. Maybe one day he'd give up coffee, he didn't need it, especially if he started getting more sleep. He stifled a yawn and climbed out his car. He took no more than a dozen steps before two cars collided in the parking lot beside the store.

His whole body turned, stepping back to shield himself from further harm. The car in front had already launched the air bag, but the driver wasn't moving. Behind, the driver seemed to be livid, shouting and yelling at the top of his lungs. He was a small Asian man, perhaps early fifties. Jason lifted his gun from his belt, all his memories passing back to the Rabid Man from the previous night.

"Sir, I need you to step out of the car." Jason spoke, making his way towards the vehicle. He was being unrealistic. The man was tired, probably didn't understand English and had pulled out on the women. "Sir, get out of the car." His voice was stern and stoic but it didn't phase the driver. Two piercing eyes flashed up towards him, streaked white and red as if he hadn't slept in a month. "Jesus.." He stammered, taking a step back.

"Sir, get out of the car." Jason lifted his gun to full height and waved those nearby away from the car. Whatever this man had taken, it wasn't doing him good. "Get out-" The driver lashed at the window, barking spittle towards those outside. The car door soon opened, flinging back hard enough it could have easily snapped off.

"Sir, you need to get on the floor. I will shoot you if you don't comply." He added, taking a few steps closer." The world seemed to have stopped at the gas station. Cars roared passed on the road but nothing seemed to change here. "Sir, get on the ground." He watched as the driver growled and roared, his teeth bare to the world. Jason took a few more steps and quickly began to regret his decision. The driver launched out of his seat and flung towards him, arms grabbing his throat at the first opportunity.

…reports indicate that the virus is spreading from China to its neighboring countries—

…symptoms include bloodshot eyes, unusual changes in behavior, and—

…are now being spotted in the Philippines, Thailand, Brazil—

“Jesus,” Rowen muttered to herself, shutting off the car radio. “Can’t they talk about anything else? I swear, this disease is the only thing on every station.” Her bitter remark, while intended to make light of the situation, only made her shudder in apprehension. The new virus really had become a hot topic within the last twenty-four hours. And to already be spreading to other countries, even one as far away as Brazil? It was more than slightly concerning. She hoped scientists would find a cure before there were any outbreaks in America. It was already hard enough to get through the day without having to worry about turning into a rabid freak.

Rowen spent the rest of her drive to the gas station imagining the ‘what if’s’ of the virus appearing in New York. Who would it affect? As a criminologist, would she have to deal with the insane victims that were captured? What would they do with them if there was no cure? What would she do if someone she knew caught it? What would she do if she caught it? The entire situation in her mind was unpleasant, so she abandoned it for more relaxing thoughts about her plans for the evening. She hoped to meet up with her friends after work and catch a movie at the theater or perhaps hit a local bar. Either way, she was grateful for the time to hang out and take a mental holiday from her work.

Pulling up to a self-service pump at the gas station, Rowen checked the time on her dashboard. It was one minute ‘til eight, so there was no chance that she would be on time for her shift. She just hoped the chief wouldn’t be too upset. She shut off her car engine and got out of the vehicle, entering her debit card information into the pump so she could fill her empty tank. Once it was ready and working, she leaned against the side of her and watched the numbers increase on the meter as her car was injected with gasoline. Fortunately, she had a fuel-efficient little Toyota and gas prices were currently low, so she wouldn’t be spending too much money.

After a few minutes, Rowen heard the soft click signaling that the pump had turned off. She removed the nozzle from her car and placed it back in its slot at the machine. She was about to get back in the driver’s seat and head to work when she was startled by a loud crash. Spinning around in surprise, she saw two cars in the gas station parking lot collide.

“What the hell?” Rowen exclaimed when the initial shock of what just happened subsided. She quickly reached for her phone and dialed 911, but paused when she saw a figure running towards the accident. It took her a moment to recognize him, but when she did, she realized she had seen him at the police station before. He was one of the patrol officers, Jason… something. She blinked in confusion. Either the police were responding to calls faster than ever or coincidence was very much on her side today.

911. What is your emergency?

Rowan jumped as the voice sounded over the phone. She shook her head. Right. She still had to call for an ambulance. The driver in the front car looked like she was unconscious, so she would need help. “Hi, there was an accident involving two cars at the Shell gas station on Main Street and Watterson. One of the drivers isn’t moving… I think she passed out. The other driver is still here too, but he’s still awake.”

Thank you for letting us know. We’ll send help right away.

Rowen put her phone away, halfheartedly thinking about how odd it felt to call the police station when she worked there. She didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line, but she still wondered if the woman recognized her. Oh God, she blanched. What if she tells the chief? I’m supposed to be at work right now! She hoped Chief Wilson might be little more understanding since there was an emergency at the gas station, but she didn’t count on it. She was a criminologist after all, not an officer. This wasn’t exactly her field of expertise.

Unsure of what to do, Rowen hesitated by her car, watching the events unfold. The woman in the first car was still out cold, but the driver in the second car was acting strangely. He was shouting what she could only guess were words in a foreign language because she didn’t understand any of them. She then noticed that he was Chinese and gave an involuntary shiver, remembering Casey’s video of the rabid man from that morning. Stop that, she mentally chided herself. You’re being paranoid.

The police officer she recognized as Jason approached the angry man and told him to get out of the vehicle. At first, the man didn’t seem to understand or care that he was being ordered by authority, but after a few minutes, he flung the door open. Rowen gasped when she got a better look at him. The Chinese man was shaking violently with pent-up energy and had bloodshot eyes… just like the man in the video. She still didn’t know if he was sick or somehow insane, but she did know he wasn’t safe to be around. And Jason was trying to apprehend him on his own.

Without a second thought, Rowen hurried towards the crashed vehicles, reaching them just as the man leaped out of his car to grab the officer by the throat. “Hey!” she shouted, drawing the Taser she kept at her waistband—she might not be a policewoman, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t armed—and firing it at the man. He seized up and fell to the ground, convulsing and screeching in an inhuman manner.

“What a way to start the morning, huh?” Rowen muttered as she put her Taser away. She glanced back at the young officer she had just assisted. “Jason, right? I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Rowen.” She paused as the sound of sirens rang through the air. “And there’s our backup.”

Jason hadn't experienced the force of being throttled before. His feet scrambled backwards as flailing limbs headed his way. There was barely a second to react when hands reached for his neck with an expression that wasn't simply to harm. His balance disappeared, causing him to fall back, head hitting the bonnet of another car. He swore through clenched teeth as the world slowly reorganized. The Chinese man lay on the floor, shaking violently. His gun had scuttled out of reach and his head pounded. His eyes flicked around, stopped on the blonde who he suspected had fired the taser. He pushed himself back to his feet and reclaimed his belongings.

"Yeah, nice to meet you." He commented and he made his way over the mess of a man on the floor. He pulled out a basic set of cuffs and tucked the man's hands behind his back. It would do until they could tuck the man away in a cell until he sobered up. "I don't even want to know what this guy was on." He added, making his way over to the car in front. His expression contorted into a grimace as he observed the state of the car. There was little he could do for her but the bodies that followed the sirens were more capable.

Jason could count on one hand the situations he'd rather have been in than what had just happened. His head hurt, he'd fallen on his ass, some guy had been drugged up beyond compare, and now he had a morning worth of paperwork to complete. He'd always wondered how different things would have been if he'd taken the opportunity to train as a park ranger and just spend his time wondering Yellowstone instead of dealing with the hell the city life brought them all.

With a short sigh, Jason waited by the Chinese man as the ambulance and squad car showed up. The paramedic team worked to ease the women from the wreck and onto the stretcher. The two officers pulled the man from the ground, struggling as he began to thrash once more. Jason lifted a hand to his forehead and pressed against his skin, as if it would ease the pain of his impending headache.

"I guess I'll see you at work." He turned to Rowen and nodded. This was the last of what he needed. Pulling open the door, Jason dropped inside and turned the ignition again. Considering the morning's proceedings, he didn't have the time for coffee. Instead he pulled back out in the street and pushed towards the station. He'd have to force down instant once he arrived. His hand shifted gears and pulled onto the busy road, blinking away the pain that still resounded in the back of his skull. There would be a questioning for details later and he needed to remember everything clearly. His thoughts flashed over each drug he'd seen on the streets since he'd started. Cocaine, Methamphetamine, and Methylone were among the first few to float around his mind. Yet, the video from the TV still cracked into view. Jason pulled up to a traffic light and stopped, his fingers drumming against the leather of the wheel. It was only because of his origin. The man could have been on anything.

A few minutes later and he arrived in the parking lot. Things looked busy today- Reaching into the back seat, Jason pulled his bag and jogged briskly into the station. The room met him with a ruckus of shouting and confusion. There were civilians shouting, officers yelling, a woman in cuffs screaming back, fighting with all her strength.

"Grantham!" He heard his name of the ocean of belligerence and followed a senior officer through to one of the meeting rooms. With the door shut, the chaos outside seemed distant. "I need a report filing on what happened this morning. I don't know what is going on but that's the third count of aggravated assault in twelve hours. You'll need to speak to whoever you were with, but I need a report filing before eleven." An aged man, maybe twenty years Jason's senior thrust a stack of paper towards him with little care for anything else. The man gave an exasperated sigh and watched the chaos from inside the sanctuary of the office. "I don't know what they're taking but we have a real problem." He muttered, turning to Jason who at this point was still watching.

With a sharp turn of his head, Jason settled down to filing the report as best he could. His pen paused on details like time, like witnesses; there had been no chance of even checking. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute the world had seemed silent, exactly as any other day, then a moment passed and the whole universe shifted into something more chaotic. With a furrowed brow, Jason began filling in the paper with as much detail as he could remember. The colour of the man's trousers, the beginning of his license plate, what the women in front looked like. He regaled the incident with as much information as he could remember. The pan scratched across the page until he could remember no more. She'd have to fill in the rest; Jason stood from his chair and moved into the chaos once again, waiting for Rowen to come through the doors.

Rowen eyed the raving Chinese man as the police and paramedics arrived on the scene. The similarity of their situation compared to the video Casey had showed her earlier was more than slightly disturbing. If the video had really been a fake, then what was wrong with this guy? Jason seemed to think he was on drugs, and it wasn’t unlikely—there were plenty of recorded cases where people went insane after taking strange chemicals—but she couldn’t shake the feeling of impending disaster that weighed heavily on her chest. There was just something so bestial about the way he was behaving. It was almost as if his sense of reason had disappeared.

Her mind wandered absently to something she had studied back in university. During a philosophy elective she had taken in her sophomore year, her class had covered something called the Porphyrian Tree. Based on the teachings of Aristotle, it was a diagram that separated and defined the different things that existed on the Earth. If something had substance, it was a material object; if the material object was sentient, it was an animal; and if the animal could reason, it was a human. The idea used to be so simple, but now that it seemed like the human ability to reason could be taken away, she didn’t know what to believe. Even if the animal couldn’t reason, it could still be a human. That was a frightening thought.

“Right, see you at work,” Rowen answered airily as Jason left the gas station. She let out a long exhale, glancing at her watch. It was only eight thirty, but she already wanted to go back to bed. I need a coffee. She was already late for work, so taking a few more minutes to go through a Starbucks drive thru wouldn’t hurt anyone. After all, who would blame her for wanting some caffeine after the disaster she had just witnessed? She also felt entitled to a little reward after she tased that frothing maniac and stopped him from strangling Jason. I may have saved an officer’s life today, she silently justified. I think that deserves an espresso. Mind made up, she walked back to her car and headed to the nearest coffee house.

--

Rowen stepped through the door of the police station, coffee in hand and shoulders straight. She was feeling better now that she had had some time to clear her head, but unfortunately her recovery was short-lived. The station was in chaos. There were people shouting—both police and civilians—and a woman in cuffs screaming and writhing against the officers who held her back. Rowen stopped in her tracks and stared, wide-eyed, at the wild scene in front of her. What’s going on around here? Everything was so peaceful yesterday. Why is everybody going crazy? Human behavior was her specialization, so it was even more frustrating that she couldn’t figure out what was happening.

“Ashworth! Where have you been?”

Rowen startled when Chief Wilson’s voice rang out over the commotion. He had appeared beside her while she was distracted by the shouting people in the station. “Sorry I’m late, sir,” she said. “What’s all this about?” She waved a hand at the chaos.

“What a mess,” the chief growled, raking his fingers through his thinning hair. He either didn’t hear Rowen or was ignoring her question. “First things first, Ashworth. I need to you help with the report on the car accident at the gas station this morning. Grantham already got it started.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the meeting room on the other side of the building. “He’s in there.” With that, the chief left her and hurried to assist his officers with the raving woman.

Eager to get away from the crowd of angry people, Rowen headed to the meeting room, closing the door behind her. As chief Wilson had said, Jason was already inside with a partially completed police report. “Hey,” Rowen greeted him with a nod of her head. She took a seat across from the young officer, took a sip of her espresso, and grabbed a spare pen from a cup in the middle of the table. “The chief told me you already started the paperwork. What’s left?”