“Fuck, it’s cold.”

Corporal Mira Feng shuddered intensely as she slid into the drivers seat of her patrol car, two polystyrene cups of coffee in hand. She placed one of the coffees in the cup holder while reaching to hand the other to her partner, Deputy Omar Barajavan. As Omar took the coffee Mira reached and pulled the car door shut, albeit a little too hard, anxious to be out of the freezing November night air. Mira tugged her coat collar up snugly around her neck as she reached and turned the car key, the engine roaring to life. The time was one fifty-eight. “Look at that, still two minutes ahead of schedule.” Mira quipped monotonously as she put the patrol car into gear.

Mira and Omar were pulling out of the station for their regular shift, two to twelve. Normally they would be leaving a bit earlier than they were now but with the weather like it was Mira felt the need to hang back and grab a coffee for them both. Mira turned on the windshield wipers as they pulled up to the edge of the street in front of the station. There was a modest sheet of freezing rain coming down and according to the weather over the next few days it would get progressively colder and bring some heavy snow. Mira knew what that meant, working vehicle wrecks and directing traffic just as a start, especially now - never mind chasing hoods and punks down slicked roads and sidewalks.

You signed up for it. Mira thought wryly as she turned out into the street and peeled down the way.

Traffic was minimal but Mira knew that had to do with the epidemic that was suddenly shaking the city. The day before, early in the morning hours, people were coming into the hospital and showing severe symptoms that resembled a flu. A winters’ illness outbreak was to be expected this time of year but this was something different. It was so sudden. Reports said that by the dozens and then the hundreds people were just flooding in wracked with symptoms, and it was worsening by the hour. By that afternoon hospitals and clinics were overflowing with sick people, many barely able to sit up straight in the waiting rooms - all this within less than twelve hours. Mira had never heard of anything like it. Ambulances were screaming up and down the streets all day and night from people having to be picked up from their homes, not even able to make it to their cars or to a cab to get to aid.

Mira had just woken up from sleeping earlier that evening when she heard about the wave of deaths. The news said people were dropping like flies, slumping over in their waiting room chairs or hospital beds. Mira still remembered that sudden, dreadful chill that had rushed through her as she watched the tv from her living room couch. The mayor had declared a state of emergency and was reaching out to the governor and Washington for immediate aid in this epidemic - whatever it was. Mira was no doctor but she imagined it to be some kind of freak mutant flu. And yet I have never heard of anything that could shake up and shut down a whole city in less than one day.

The Corporal shook her head as she reached for her coffee and took a long sip, the hot coiling steam feeling good against her face. Nearly every business Mira and Omar passed had signs indicating being indefinitely closed amid this strange pandemic. Doors were all locked up tight and blinds and window covers masked the insides of everything from stores to street side restaurants. Few people were on the sidewalks and most wore masks and gloves and were all giving each other a wide birth. A red flashing caught both deputies attention as they passed an apartment complex, an ambulance was parked outside and Mira could see EMT’s were rushing up the stairs.

Mira glanced sideways at Omar as she made a sharp turn down a side street on their route. “What do you know about this virus or whatever it is, Omar? This… flu…” Mira hoped he had something for her, anything other than just a shrug or an “I don’t know”. This whole thing was making her nervous to put it to the least, so many hospitalized and dead with no end in site reported.

The rich aroma of the coffee woke Omar up. His movements were still laggard as his hands gingerly accepted what Mira offered him. His chin inclined slightly downwards out of silent appreciation before he pinched and pulled down the hem of his woolen mask with two fingers. Lifting the cup towards his face, Omar immediately slurped down the steaming black liquid. The caffeine scalded his tongue bitterly as he inhaled in to take a whiff of the earthy vapor. He exhaled out as the coffee worked its magic, the world around him becoming less of a blur and sharper, as if it was under a magnifying glass.

“ Small mercies,” Omar replied back, mouth muffled by the coffee cup. His eyes flickered towards Mira as he took another sip, watching as she drove out of the station onto the slick street. For the last 3 weeks, Omar had heard rumors from the other officers about Feng’s reputation since his induction at the Lambour County Sheriff’s Office. From what scant details he could put together, the common denominator between all the far-fetched tales he’d been told was that it had something to do with her conduct during her time at Williams County.

Plus, any officer who bought him coffee before patrol duty was alright in his books.

Rain cascaded down outside the car, shrouding the empty horizon in a thick soup of grey mist. The sugar maples and sycamores on the boulevard drooped down, their skeletal branches signifying the beginning of winter. At this hour, you would see some cars rolling down the street, maybe, a couple of people pulling out their umbrellas on the sidewalk. All Omar could see was mostly empty streets, windows wrapped with wax paper and closed doors. The scene reminded him more of a gh It made him shiver. On most days, Omar would be relieved but last night’s news report still troubled his mind.

It has first began as a series of coincidences, most chalking it up to the winter flu season. In less than 12 hours, Lambour Lutheran Hospital emergency departments were swamped with crowds of people all experiencing the same symptoms. They’d called it a flu at first but no flu caused this many people to become sick at the same time. When the first deaths were reported and Mayor Kilburn issued a state of emergency, Omar was more annoyed with the deluge of phone calls he’d received from Mom and Dad and Arat and Tomar and everyone else in his family. They’d urged him to move out of the city and Omar simply told them he couldn’t. The reason was simple. Law enforcement officers weren’t immune to whatever filled the halls of Lambour Lutheran and almost half of their officers were on paid sick leave. It’d left the other half to pick up the extra slack.

“ Other than what’s already been told to us by the mayor?,” Omar questioned, lying back in his seat. Contrary to Mira, he looked nonplussed about the events of the last 24 hours. He scratched his chin, deep in thought, before shrugging his shoulders. “ Every person I’ve spoken to has a different crackpot theory,” Omar lifted up his fingers and began counting them out one by one. “ Food poisoning. Some sick guy from overseas. Lab leak. God’s judgement. I think it’s almost easier to ask them what it isn’t than what it could be.”

Omar then looked at Mira, wondering if his words were reassuring enough, before clasping her shoulder briefly. “ Look, it’ll all blow over by the time spring comes around. Just between you and me, personally? I think I’m going to spend my salary on a vacation. Somewhere warm, like Hawaii -SLOW DOWN!”

Omar jabbed his finger towards the front of the patrol vehicle with urgency. They’d just turned the block and immediately, they met a swarm of dogs and cats that occupied the street. Lambour was no stranger to strays but Omar was confident today that the crowd of animals in front of them encompassed the entire population of missing pets in Lambour. The swarm paid no heed to them, scampering past their vehicles in one unified direction. Omar could feel the patrol vehicle vibrate as the column of animals marched past them.

“ Probably should call in animal control. ,” Omar breathed in shock. His eyes then squinted and pointed into the misty outlines of Lambour's inner city. “ Say, isn’t that where Lambour General and Lutheran are? Do you think that has something to do with them?”

“I- I…” Mira found herself speechless as she retightened her grip on the steering wheel. She had nearly plowed right over the wave of cats and dogs that had came surging forth. If Omar had not shouted fast enough she was not too sure she would have reacted in time. For a second Mira thought she had pissed on herself until she looked down and realized the sudden stop had sloshed some of her coffee out onto the dash and across her upper thigh and groin.

“Well shit.” Mira spat as she reached out and used one bare hand to smear and wipe at the brown liquid on the dash. It would be sticky without doubt but she could wipe it off later, thankfully none of the coffee had splashed out onto the radio. The spill on her pants had already soaked in, it was uncomfortably hot but not scalding thankfully so she could just let it dry and worry about washing her uniform later. She absently wiped her sticky hand off on her pants leg, annoyed and disoriented from the sudden happening.

“Yeah, we need to call that in…” Mira said, her tone a little distant as she tried to process what she just saw. What the hell caused that? All those animals to just go flooding in a singular direction undeterred by any kind of danger. Jesus, this city is getting weirder by the hour it seems.

Just as Mira’s hand started to glide toward the radio it suddenly crackled to life causing her to flinch slightly.

“Attention all units we have a one thirty-two in progress at the corner gas station on Willard Street, all available units please respond.”

Armed robbery, Mira felt the hair on her arms and neck raise, Willard Street. That’s just two blocks over!

Mira put the car in gear and drove her foot down into the pedal, the patrol car lurching forward as the engine roared to new life. “Take that for me!” Mira nodded toward the radio as she made a sudden hard turn. The animals will just have to wait. What a shift this is looking to fucking be!

Well, there went any hope of a quiet afternoon.

With a note of lazy reluctance, Omar obeyed Mira’s command and pulled the receiver close to his mouth. His other hand opened the front drawer and throws a box of tissues onto Mira’s coffee-soaken lap. “ Dispatch, this is Zero-Eight-Five-Two. Ten-Four, copy.” The line chittered with static haze before a clear voice parted through it.

“ Ten-Four, Zero-Eight-Five-Two. Be advised that witness reports indicate 3, over.”

3? Omar’s stomach knotted on itself, his knuckles turning white. Hopefully, there’d be two or three units to help back them up if things went south but with most of their units either sick or occupied with keeping martial law on the streets, they’d be lucky to get even one. Omar hesitated, looking at Mira nervously, before recollecting himself and replying back.

“10-4. Inform us if units are en-route,” The radio clicked silent and Omar signed as Mira sped through Lambour’s roads and bricken buildings. “Fuck,” Omar whisepered to himself, shaking his head. As if an pandemic wasn’t bad enough, it looked like disaster attracted the worst of opportunists. It appeared that Lambour County wasn’t going to the sleepy northern town that he originally thought it was going to be. Puddles were split into mist under the wheels of their cruiser as they entered the perimeter of the outer eastern boroughs.

Omar looked at the panoply of neon signs that hung off the sides of shop fronts, laundromats and craft shops in Willard County. Willard Street was a local staple in Lambour, connected to the first by-way for weary travellers off the I-95. Now, those same glass windows that showed glazed baked tarts and heirloom crafted wooden puppets were covered by seams of wax papers which were jaggedly written with phrases in red ink such as “STAY OUT” and “ORDER ONLINE”. The gas station at the corner was cherry red and looked positively quaint in its antiquity, the cherry red pumps still visible in the heavy rain. As Mira stopped the car off the side of the gas station, Omar could see a few local citizens standing by. He squinted through the rain to get a good look but the only thing he could make out is the door of the gas station, slightly left ajar.

Before opening the door, Omar places a white parka folded up into a triangular bundle into Mira’s hands and puts on one himself. He pushes it open and immediately regrets it. The rain is heavy, blistering. The plastic parka he’s wearing isn’t enough to stop the drops from battering him senseless. He dips his hand into his hand and fumbles around for his sidearm. His fingers unclasp the strap and the tupperware like sensation of a standard U.S issued Glock greets his fingers. His index finger hooks around the trigger guard as he reaches into the car to take out the microphone.

“ This is the Sheriff’s office. All individuals inside the premises of this building must come out now with their hands behind their head. Failure to do so will lead to - “

The sound of thunder rips through the air. Then, Omar realizes it’s not thunder when a spiderweb of cracks unfurl across their window. He ducks down and shouts a word in Hindi that he thinks is a swear.

“ Should we go in?,” Omar questioned Mira, his eyes shifting uneasily towards her. His senior's expression creases in concentration before replying back. " Stay here and keep him talking. I'll go around the back."

A protest began to arise in Omar's throat about how they should wait for reinforcements but the longer they'd wait, the more likely the situation would escalate. Omar took ahold of the radio again.

" This is your final warning. Step out with your arms in the air."

" Fuck you, man!," A voice cried out from the gas station. " You drive away first or I swear to Christ, I'm going to shoot the guys I have here in the head!"

Mira dashed around the side of the gas station and made fast for the rear of the building, hoping the gunman had not caught a glimpse of her and hoping that the back door was not locked. The ground was slick from all the rain and twice she had to catch herself from face planting onto the hard concrete. Mira slowed up as she reached the back corner of the building, pressing herself against the cold brick wall as she reached for her gun. There was nothing saying the suspect did not have a partner waiting out back.

Mira slowly came around the corner, pistol raised and eyes down the sights. There was no one behind the building, the woman releasing a clouded breath of a sigh. A single car, undoubtedly the owners’, was parked in a space near the back door and a line of half filled dumpsters reached down the wall on the left side of the door opposite of Mira. Mira stepped back against the wall once more, sliding down it until she was directly alongside the back door of the gas station. Cold crystals of frozen rain glazed her hair and neck sending a sharp chill down her spine, the corporal ignoring it to her best. The door was thankfully not one of the large heavy metal ones but rather a windowless wooden door. She reached down with her right hand and twisted at the knob - locked of course.

Couldn’t have it that easy I guess.

Mira flinched as she heard another loud blast from the perps’ gun. Fuck it, we don’t have time for backup and I need to get in there!

Mira considered reaching to try and rattle or yank the door open but then decided not. If the gunman happened to hear her he might blind fire at the door, possibly hitting her or someone inside. Or worse yet he may panic and just start shooting people. Mira stepped back sucking in a deep breath, the cold air tightening her throat and chest, her heart beating like a war drum. “Go.” Mira sprinted forward, swinging up her right leg with all her momentum behind it as she slammed a fierce kick into the back door - a slight snap of wood and a rattling of the knob could be heard as the door flew open and slammed against the inside wall.

“What the fuck?”

The bright lights of the gas station interior disoriented Mira for a second, even so she could see the gunman standing behind the front counter dead ahead. Nothing was between them, a line of freezers to her right filled with assortments of booze and to her left was a shelf of chips and crackers that reached just short of the counter. The gunman was facing Mira, the woman could see a short rotund man cowering at his feet. Mira barely had time to react as the perp raised his weapon, a shotgun - the corporal leapt behind the shelf to her left as the wall nearby was blasted spraying chunks of shattered paneling through the air.

“Bitch!” the gunman roared.

“Make it easy on yourself,” Mira shouted back defiantly as she scrambled to a half crouch behind the shelf, “drop the weapon!”

“Fuck you!” Another gunshot, Mira hunkered down as the shelf was blasted across the top raining down bits of metal and shredded chip bags.

“Put the weapon down!” Mira shouted back, not standing again.

“Not a chance!”

“ I repeat again, come out with your hands behind your head or we’ll be forced to use lethal force -,” The sound of a gunshot erupting made Omar drop the radio. Sucking in a breathe, he grasped his pistol firmly with both hands and ran towards the front of the gas station. He didn’t know who fired the first shot but he wasn’t keen with leaving Mira alone in there by herself. His boots splashed apart the rivers of rainwater that were beginning to inundate the streets, soaking the scuffs of his woolen jeans.

Once he was at the door, he could hear muffled sounds of commotion. With one hand still on the grip of pistol, the door opened with a quiet whine. Omar pushed it enough just so the edge of the door touched the lip of the bell. Immediately, Omar could hear someone shouting in a coarse, uneven voice. Male. Probably in his late 20s or early 30s. He took a peek through the crack and briefly saw a broad shouldered figure in a hoodie waving a pump-action shotgun around.

“Not a chance!,” The man spoke out. “ You make one more move towards me and I’ll paint his fucking brains all over the counter, you hear me?!”

“ Please, sir….,” A heavily lisped voice whimpered out loud. “ I’m willing to help you with your situation but you have to believe-”

There was a cry of pain and then, the sound of a shell being re-racked into a shotgun. “ You shut up if you know what’s good for you, old man.”

Alright. That was enough. The sound of lightning split the sky above and Omar used the opportunity to push open the door quietly as to not spook the robber. He didn’t want to have to fill in on the incident report about how the owner was missing half his head. The robber was still looking in the direction of wherever Mira was and didn’t notice Omar’s pistol pointed a few meters away from his head.

“ Hands on your head right now!” The robber turned his head towards Omar in surprise. This close, he could see the straw blonde hair poking out of his hood. A cherokee blue bandana was wrapped around his mouth. Freckles dotted the underside of his shadowed grey eyes. “ Put the shotgun on the counter slowly and step away from the hostage. You’re surrounded.”

The robber shifted and bounced on his feet. His movements reminded Omar when he watched mice struggle to escape the mouse traps his mom had laid around the house. “ You’ll have to do something for me first.”

Shit. Now wasn’t a good time for negotiations. He barely passed that course when the NJPD made it mandatory. Omar signed inwardly, still putting on the face of consummate professionalism as his finger rested on the trigger.

“ Put your shotgun down on the table and we can talk.”

“ You’ll just cuff me, man.” The robber scoffed, still pointing his shotgun down at the man below him. “ You’ll listen to what I have to say and then, we’ll talk.”

Omar’s fingers danced on the pistol grip, contemplating the actions he could take. The man was on edge, on the verge of breaking. Even if he’d managed to shoot him, a mis-fire from the shotgun could still happen. Talking him seemed like the best distraction for Mira to catch the robber off guard.

“ Alright. Start talking,” Omar nodded. The robber rolled his shoulders, lowering the shotgun slightly away from the shopkeeper, before speaking.

“ My little bro….” The robber’s voice trailed off. “ He’s now sick with the same bug that’s been passing around. I can’t afford a check up at the ER for her. I need him to be checked up at the doc right now.”

“You can’t cover it under insurance?”

The robber shook his head in frustration and shakily replied back.

“ I can’t afford insurance, asshole,” The robber choked back a swear. A pang of sympathy ran through Omar’s heart as he momentarily lowered his pistol before raising it back up. His parents would’ve never forgiven him if he’d failed to take care of Omid and he sure as hell didn’t want to know how he would be able to handle facing the loss of his brother.

“ How old’s your brother?, Omar said softly.

“ 7,” The robber gulped guiltily, eyes shifting towards the left of the store where another door was located. “ I brought him with me. He’s holed up in the staff room on his DS. Your partner can go over there to verify and check it out for you.”

“ You heard all that, Mira?” Omar asked out loud, pistol still trained on the man’s head. “ I’ll keep point. You can check it to see if his story matches up.”

There was a sudden heavy clopping sound from the nearby aisle, the sound of boots on linoleum. The robber turned back around raising up his shotgun, time seemed to be coming to a grinding halt. Mira burst forth into Omar’s view, gun holstered and instead she wielded her baton in her right hand. She took a sharp forward stride bringing the baton up and then beginning a downward arc. There was a loud crack and the masked gunman cried out in pain as his shotgun fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Mira had struck him across the left forearm just as he had brought his gun up level with her.

The man grabbed at his arm in shocked agony which gave Mira the chance to bring him down, jabbing him hard in the stomach and dropping him to his knees. From there she got behind him and drove him down onto the hard floor with her left knee, right next to the hostage he had been threatening. Mira slipped her baton away, keeping the downed gunman pinned as she reached for her handcuffs.

Stupid. Mira though to herself admittedly, Very stupid. Had the gunman been just a second or two faster Mira would have taken a chest full of shot and be sprawled out dead on the floor. She shook her head as she tussled for the man’s arms, ignoring his groans of pain and explicit protests. “My arm, you pig bitch, I think you broke my… fucking arm!” His voice was muffled from his face being pressed into the linoleum but his protests were audible enough. The hostage was scrambling away as he slowly stood, wobbly and big-eyed at what had just occurred.

“Nice little distraction, Omar.” Mira said as the handcuffs clicked together. The Corporal hooked her hands under the robbers’ shoulders and with a loud grunt began to roughly haul him to his feet. “You broke my arm, dammit! Take these off me!” Mira got the man stood up, he was maybe an inch or two taller than her. “Your arm isn’t broken.” Mira snapped.

“How do you know?”

“We’ll check it then when we get you back to the station.” Mira asserted. “Omar grab his gun.”

Omar didn’t quite know how to react to Mira’s action. He wasn’t sure whether to be angry that he misinterpreted her instructions or grateful for saving him from a potentially foolish mistake. Omar wondered if his time in New Jersey had made him too soft for the shit that happened in the north-east. It took a second for him to process Mira’s instruction as he leaned down to pick up the shotgun. He turned it over to the side and recoiled at just how unmaintained it was. It was an antique 870 but you couldn’t tell that from how chewn the wooden stock was or from the rust-coated barrel. Omar set the shotgun down and produced a clear plastic evidence bag from his person, zipping it open to wrap it around the long gun. He signed as he settled into the minutae of logging down evidence detail with a pencil.

“ Oh, thank you, officers,” The pudgy shopkeeper was dusting himself off as he approached the pair. His skin was pallid and moist with sweat and fringes of tufted hair grew around his bald head. “ Is there anything that I might assist you with?”

“ Can you tell us what happened here, Mister…..?”

“ Alfonso Francocci,” The shopkeeper puffed up his chest proudly.

“ Mister Francocci,” Omar said brusquely, all business. “ We need the details of what happened?”

“ Of course, officer. I was closing up my store early today.” Alfonso then looked at the man in Mira’s grasp with an irritated look. “ Then, this stronzo burst from the back of my store and pointed that gun at me. He asked me to empty all the cash in my register and when I refused, he gave this to me.”

“ Was he accompanied by anyone else?”

“ Yes, a woman and a man.” Omar felt his fist clench, the robber avoiding his gaze of disappointment as the rookie officer looked at him. “ She said she felt sick and went with her friend to the cold room.,” The shopkeeper pointed over Omar’s shoulder and Omar’s eyes followed the direction of his finger to a freezer door located near the dairy section.

“ I haven’t seen them since,” The shopkeeper rubbed his hands together out of worry. “ Do you think they might have - uh- ran away?”

Then, Omar heard the groan. A bass-like rumble that teetered on being animalistic from behind the freezer door. Omar looked at the shopkeeper to see if he was in the midst of a coffee-induced hallucination and the shopkeeper's frightened face dashed that theory. The rookie officer pinched his nose, looking up as though he was praying to some pagan god for good fortune before reaching down towards his holster.

“ Stay here,” Omar didn’t even bother giving an answer as he took out his Glock again. Just as he was about to make his way to the freezer, he paused and nodded towards Mira. “ You wanna get the perp in our vehicle or you feel comfortable letting me handle this one?”

Mira stood the gunman up keeping a tight hold on his wrists as she looked toward the freezer room door. A wax of worry seemed to be encased upon her visage as she considered the options. They needed to remove the other two perpetrators and arrest them immediately, if both of the deputies went outside to deal with the man at hand the other two could break for it and be gone in minutes. They couldn’t just leave the handcuffed gunman crammed into a corner to run the minute they turned their backs. But Mira hated the idea of leaving Omar to face two people alone, even if one was allegedly ill. They could both be armed and likely were and Omar would be in a perilous situation.

But what other option is there? Mira gritted her teeth.

Mira looked to the store owner, Francocci, “Get inside your office and lock the door, one of us come get you when things are all clear.”

Francocci nodded nervously and stepped back behind the counter and through the rickety wooden door into his personal office. Mira took a deep breath and then looked to Omar, “Go cover the door, I’ll get this one out to the car, wait up for me.”

What was that growling?

Mira backed towards the front door while Omar followed her order. She twisted around and went from pulling to pushing as she walked the cuffed man outside and towards the patrol car. The freezing rain had picked up, coming down harder and colder than earlier, Mira feeling bits of ice in it as well. She imagined as the temperature dipped a bit more it would be hail and soon enough snow. It took her no time to get the door open and push the perp inside with some final protests from him. Making sure he was secure Mira then turned and made a rush back towards the front of the store, hand slipping around her holstered pistol as she reached the front door.

Now by all himself, Omar shuddered again as another groan surfaced from behind the door. Omar walked, more caution in his steps than ever, as he made his way to the freezer door. The surface was coated in a slick sheen of white frost that wormed in tendrils across the foam. He rapped his fist against the door lightly before speaking out loud.

“ Police, open up.”

The moans continued on. Either the perps were deliberately ignoring him or they were somehow getting their rocks off in a cooler room in the middle of a town-wide pandemic. Omar spoke again, this time more forcefully.

“ I said, open up. We’ve got you surrounded.”

Again, the damn moans keep going on as if they didn’t even hear him. Omar rapped the door again. No response. Omar’s finger absentmindedly thumbed the trigger of the Glock in worry. He could wait for Mira to come back with the perp or go inside to spare her the trouble. Who in their right mind would spend 1 hour being stuck inside an virtual icebox in one of the oldest counties in the north east?

Pushing his body against the freezer door, Omar slowly pulled it open, hiding his body behind the frame. Wafts of icy air billowed out of the door and into the restaurant. Omar twisted his frame in and pointed his pistol out, only to be met by darkness. Grunting in annoyance, Omar reached for the flashlight hooked on his belt and flicked it on. The beam of light cut a swathe through the impermeable void. His flashlight glinted off the gleaming icicles that hung from the damp metallic shelving units. All the while, the moans continued to echo inside the refrigeration unit, piercing the hum of the air conditioning units.

Suddenly, he heard a slick sound of something wet falling to the ground. Omar turned his flashlight around and his blood chilled. It was a woman standing over a still corpse of a man on the ground. His eyes were glazed over and his mouth was ajar, a trickle of blood flowing out.

“Maám, are you -,” Omar’s mouth gummed up the moment her neck craned around towards him. Her skin was a ghoulish white, varicose veins coursing underneath her neck and skin. Everything below her mouth was covered in dripping red blood, flowing down her shirt and pants. Strings of viscera were stuck between her blue lips and a long piece of pink gut hung out of the corner of her jaw.

She slowly stood up, tilting her neck curiously at him, before trudging forward drunkenly. Omar shifted the barrel of his pistol up at her neck.

“ Put your hands on the ground right now.,” Omar commanded but the woman paid him no mind. She continued walking forward towards him, arms lengthened out towards his neck. “ I said - “

Omar’s words were cut off as the woman leaned forward in a stumbling push, clawing at his neck. The cold of her skin scalded him numb, causing him to shout in pain. The trigger depressed and a loud bang issued from the barrel. The woman’s head flicked back and then, turned to look at him with that same dead-eyed look. The only difference now was that there was a gaping hole in her right cheek where he could see a swollen tongue flapping up and down.

“ Fuck!,-” Omar cried out. “ Mira?! We got a situation here!”

“What the hell, Omar, I s-!” Mira’s voice cutoff as she rounded the aisle, gun in hand. She had the first perp locked in her car and was just coming back through the door when she heard the pow of Omar’s Glock. The Corporal looked in shocked awe at the woman before her, her deathly gray-white flesh and bloody appearance like something straight from a horror film. Were the woman staying still Mira would take her for a corpse, but that she was very much not.

“Back up and raise your hands!” Mira snapped out of her trance, pistol raised. The grody-looking woman did not comply, instead continuing to grasp and lunge at Omar. Fuck, she’s crazy! Mira dashed towards Omar and the woman, dropping her shoulder as she drew close and slamming into the assailant sending her tumbling across the floor and into the wall with a crash. Mira glanced at Omar to make sure he was okay, she didn’t see any blood or scratches or bite marks. That was good. The last thing the Corporal wanted was her new partner getting maimed by some drug-head on her watch. Mira then took a bold stride forward and pointed her gun down at the fallen woman, “Face down, hands behind your head!”

The woman only grunted in response, shoes scraping against the floor as she raised up and twisted to face the two deputies. Mira then saw the wound in her face, the gaping hole and all the blood - it made her stomach churn fiercely. What was more rattling was the female perp seemed not in the least phased by it, standing up to full height and continuing with the short throaty groans Mira and Omar had been hearing as she looked at them with glossy but intent eyes.

“I’ll shoot you if don’t comply!” Sweat was beading across Mira’s forehead, her fingers felt numb from the tight grip she had on her firearm. The woman lunged and Mira with no other choice squeezed the trigger. The gun was loud in the tight quarters, the bullet striking into the center of the woman’s’ chest sending her falling back against the wall. A cold, fearful wave surged across Mira as the woman stood back up straight and shuffled forward again.

“Fuck!” Mira screamed, her trigger fingering snapping three times firing off three more shots into the suspects’ chest, hot bullet casings clinking across the floor at her feet. The woman still did not fall, merely staggering back before lurching forward with savage eyes and a raging growl. Mira stepped back, heart pounding at what she was witnessing. This is fucking impossible! Mira’s feet got tangled up and the Corporal overbalanced and fell back in a sprawl across the floor, eyes wide with fear as the woman reached down for her - blood pouring from the four bullet holes in her torso.

“Omar!” Mira yelled.

Mira’s screams broke Omar out of his trance and he sees his superior squirming on the ground, the shadow of the woman over her. There is no time to think, only act. Omar took a deep breath to concentrate, barrel pointed at the woman’s face. Just as her teeth were an inch away from Mira’s throat, Omar presses the trigger. The 9mm bullet cores through the left side of her temple and exits out the other side in a bloom of dark red blood. Warm droplets spray on his cheek. The woman drunkedly teeters on her feet, jaw slack, before collapsing on the ground.

He stares at the body of the still, cooling corpse. His pistol is still aimed up, ready to shoot at any sign of movement. He takes a step and then, another. The corpse still lies motionless. Even after shooting her in the head, Omar can’t still help but believe against all logic that hse somehow may still be alive. He prods her with his foot and then, his head falls in both relief and shock.

“ Fuck,” says Omar. He holsters his pistol and walks over towards Mira, worry evident on his face. He silently appraises her for any signs of injury. He cannot bring himself to even acknowledge what just happened to her out of some hope that she can come up with an explanation. It only takes a few seconds of looking into her fearful eyes that he realizes that she’s in the same straits that he is. Omar then grabs her arm in a solid grip and slowly helps her onto her feet.

“ Did you see what I see?,” Omar gestured to the still body with a nod. “ Mira, this can’t be fucking real -”

“ My god, officers!,” Omar turns his head to see Mr Francocci standing in the open entrance of his office. His head tilts to get a better look and his gills turn green. He leans over in dry heaves. “ Oh god, oh god, I am never going to financially recover -”

Omar pinches his nose in exasperation as the store owner begins to go in the midst of an rant.

“ - Mr Francocci - “

“ - The cleaning bills alone would - “

“ Mr Francocci -” Omar says with a little more force. “ Sir, do you recognise this woman as the same one that came into your store?”

The store owner leans over hesitantly, his eyes peering through the cracks of the hand that cover his face.

“ Yes, I think she is, officer.”

“ Did you notice anything funny about her.

“ She was struggling to stand, sir,” The store owner rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “ I remember now. She was complaining that it was too hot in my store. When she vomited on my floor, her friend moved her to the freezer.”

Her friend. Omar stands up for a moment to take a quick look at the body he saw in the freezer with the flashlight. His face pales. It’s a gruesome sight. The man’s belly is completely excavated, torn to the bone. Omar can see white ribs poking out of the sternum. Why the hell had the woman eaten her friend? What would possess someone to eat a human?

“ Shit,” Omar steps back out, shaking his head. “ Mira, we got another casualty in here. Should we call EMTs?”

Mira shuffled back against a nearby shelf, heart pounding and sweat covering her whole face now. What the fuck was that? How? How was she just shrugging off bullets like that? This is literally impossible! At least a shot to the head had put her down. Mira ran her right hand across her face, it was so soaked you could hear the gentle squelch of moisture against flesh as she wiped sideways.

It dawned on her after a moment that Omar had asked her a question, Mira facing him with unsteady eyes and a half open mouth, “Uh… yeah… we definitely need EMT’s here. Maybe… maybe backup too, I think. We need to secure the scene.”

Mira wiped her sweat covered hand on her sheriff’s jacket and stepped by Omar, looking into the freezer room for herself. The eviscerated body of the third suspect was in plain view and the Corporal felt her stomach spin one good time at the site of the mangled blue-skinned corpse. Mira took a deep swallow, trying to suppress the rising lump in her throat. She had seen no shortage of bodies in her years with the department - but this? People shrugging off bullets without even a cry and cannibalism? Never, not even close. This was like something from a horror film. She took slow deep breaths through her nose while trying not to overload on oxygen. She already felt lightheaded and sick enough, no good in making herself faint.

Mira laid a hand on Omar’s shoulder, “You go call this in and check on the other guy. I… need to have a look at this body in here. Then I’ll need a full report from you, Mister Francocci.” Mira looked to the store owner.

The store owner nodded wearily, Mira could hear nervous breaths slipping through his parted lips as his forehead glistened with moisture. Between the holdup, the shooting, and then this it was any wonder the husky store owner hadn’t had a heart attack. That was definitely all they needed now. Mira gave Omar a slight push to try and force him into motion, looking back at the corpse before them herself half afraid that any moment the deranged woman would rise yet again to attack. If she did Mira would just blast her whole skull apart, ’Bet she wouldn’t get up from that.

“Go on.” Mira pushed Omar a little harder.

Hands still shaking on the trigger, Omar shakily nodded as he holstered his Glock to go examine the body inside the freezer. His breath shuddered as he kneeled down to look at the still corpse more closely. Even in the dim light, he could still see the blood. It was easily the most gruesome sight that he had seen in his 10 years of work as a police officer. The flannel jacket was torn to shreds and everything down below his chest was a gaping well of guts and viscera that continually bled out a pool of red. The woman he killed had gobbled her way n to the spine where visible teeth-like indentations were strewn across the bone.. Omar switched on his flashlight to take a better look at the body. The checkered wounds on the open chest and the neck reminded him of roadkill that he’d seen driving over the interstate. Omar moved the light to his head.

The victim’s eye blinked.

Omar shouted out loud as the corpse became possesed, hands leaping out towards him. Omar pulled out his Glock immediately and aimed for the head. The relief he felt when he pulled the trigger was quickly replaced by dread as the gun clicked empty. The man, in the midst of his fumbling for a new magazine, managed to slip a blood-splattered hand over his ankle and a spike of frigid pain went up Omar’s spine.

“ Fuck!,” Omar instinctively recoiled back his foot and stamped down on the hand hard. He felt the hand, the bone under the sallow skin shatter into a thousand pieces under his sole. The man didn’t seem to notice it, still limply pawing at him. Omar took a step back, panting in pain. The dead man in front of him attempted to lift himself off the floor to walk towards Omar but the rules of human physiology, namely missing half of your lower torso, prevented him from doing so. The man realized this and so began to drag himself across the floor in a bloody trail. Omar quickly reloaded his Glock, pulling the slide back to check there was a bullet, before firing at the man’s skull.

The man’s skull exploded in a shower of blood and he became motionless. Omar prodded the corpse gently with his foot to see if it still moved and clasped his chest, heart still beating fast. He stumbled out of the freezer, absentmindedly walking past Mira. His finger wiped a speck of blood that was on his mask before looking at her with uncertainty.

“ The girl was sick. Do you think this is…,” Omar’s mind didn’t want to connect the thoughts. Surely, it couldn’t have been related to the outbreak. “- some sort of symptom? Maybe, we should contact EMS and see if there’s any similar - “

The sound of Blue Monday punctuated the air. Omar looked down towards his vest where his cell phone was stored. Nodding apologetically to Mira, Omar flipped open his vest pocket and spoke into the receiver.

“ This is Omar speaking. Who is this?”

“ Fucking finally!,”A panicked nasally voice with a country twang nearly defeaned Omar. “ I’ve been trying to reach you and Mira through comms for a minute now! We got multiple 10-34’s near Lambour General. We need reinforcements.”

“ Carl?,” Omar said, confused. Carl was supposed to be at the station today on desk duty. “ Relax. Give me a sit-rep.”
“ Fuck, Omar. I don’t know what’s happening in this crowd. The next moment, they’re complaining it’s too warm in the hospital. The next, they’re swarming out in droves. I- “ The phone suddenly became filled with static before returning back to the sound of audible screaming. “ Just get her as fast as you - KZZZTTTTT”

The call declines. Omar tries again and all he’s met with is his caller declining the call multiple times. Eventually, he throws up his hands and looks towards Mira for guidance.

“ Carl just called us. Apparently, there’s 10-34’s at Lambour General. Says he needs back-up. Do you think we should respond or get the perp back to the station?”

Somehow, the thought of dealing with a riot brought a sense of certainty into their current situation. Dealing with pissed off civilians was easier than the violation of natural laws that they were observing before them right now.

It took Mira a solid minute to process everything what was happening. What in the flying fuck is going on… This was impossible. That was the only word to describe what had just transpired - “impossible”. No disease could cause this, any of what had just happened. Shrugging off multiple gunshots? Staying alive and flailing around when half of your entrails had been torn out? This was just inhuman. Inhuman…

”Carl just called us. Apparently, there’s 10-34’s at Lambour General. Says he needs back-up. Do you think we should respond or get the perp back to the station?”

Mira appeared to be snapped fresh from a trance as she looked at Omar, eyes glossy and face frozen in an expression of dumbfound, mouth half open. “Uh… ten thirty-fours?” Mira blinked as she registered what that meant, her whole brain feeling empty, her throat tightening and heart racing from the bizarre shock of what had just transpired. “I… we should get the suspect we have in custody back to the… uhm, station. We need to call in… EMT’s for the bodies.”

Mira shook her head, trying to dispel the fog of dread and disbelief that was clouding her mind. Her hands felt cold and numb and her toes writhed involuntarily in her boots from the angst that was overwhelming the deputy. Come on, focus. They’re both dead now. It must be from this outbreak. The attacks near the hospital, what just happened here, there is a medical explanation!

“Mister Francocci,” Mira blurted out, “shut yourself in your office. Lock the door but keep your eyes open, we’ll… call for EMT’s in the car. Omar and I may have to swing back by for our report in a few hours. Will you… still be here?”
The paunchy store owner nodded quickly, obviously shaken himself at what had just happened, his distress furthered by the visible unsettlement of the two law enforcement officers before him. Mira nodded in understanding, sucking in a deep inhale as she brushed some loose strands of hair back from her forehead.

“Okay, Omar, let’s get this guy back to the station. I want you to call for an ambulance to swing by here. Try and follow this order, huh?” Mira ended with a sharply raised eyebrow as she brushed past Francocci and headed for the door. Mira stopped to grab the shotgun from the counter, still contained in its evidence bag. She shook her head in disappointment in herself for just leaving it laying there earlier, not looking back she headed for the door. Mira and Omar needed to hurry to get the man in their custody to the station and then barrel ass on towards the hospital. It may have been cowardly to think so but the idea of trying to contain a whole crazed, frothing at the mouth mob of people like she and Omar had just killed was enough to make Mira hope someone else would handle it. Put on your big girl undies, that’s all part of it - having to do shit you would rather not so other people wouldn’t have to. Maybe the illness had nothing to do with it. Maybe these two were strung out on some new dope. Or maybe they just had some bizarre mutated strain of the virus that had hit the town. Mira was entertaining possibilities all the way into the car as she backed it out into the street, her partner and the seething prisoner behind them her solemn company.

It was odd hearing Mira's voice being so stilted. As his superior, Omar looked at Mira as a steadfast rock throughout his time in Lambour. Now, he wasn't quite sure what to make of her. It was both humbling and frightening at the same time to see her locked in the same straits that he was. His hands trembled as the growing pools of blood on the tiled floor felt like they were drowning him in their crimson glow. The hand that had fired the pistol still felt leaden, numb. The gunfire still rang in his head like a bell.

Omar wordlessly nodded in response to Mira's command, heart still pounding and nerves still frayed from killing not just one but two people in the span of a day. His instructors told him that it was a statistical inevitability that he would have to take a life in his line of work. As soon as Mira walked out of the door, Omar felt as though a valve had been released. He hunched over onto his knees and his stomach somersaulted under the wave of nausea he had been forced to hold in. The sting of bile made him cough as he swallowed it down. His knees buckled under an immovable weight.

Then, the voice of a morbidly obese gas station owner broke him out of his self-induced reverie.

" Excuse me, senor. Would you like me to get you water -?"

" No, no," Omar waved his hand, coughing. He straightened his back and looked at the shopkeeper. " I'm fine. Just remember to follow my superior's instructions."

He then exits the shop, following closely behind Mira.

---

Manuel Francocci considered himself a humble man. He had been divorced twice after his wife discovered him ‘cheating’ with his neighbour and his last wife left him for some argentinian pig. His only son left him to die in a war overseas in some sandbox. He was late on his tax. He’d been forced to mortgage his house. And now, two people had died in his humble convenience store that he had sold all of his life savings to build.

Truly, this was the culmination of bad luck. One could only wonder whether there was some way for him to avoid all of this misery and nonsense.

As he took out a mop and dipped in a bucket of water, he failed to notice the still corpse, head blown up, slowly begin to rise back up. It jerked shakily, arms spasming, before pulling itself up with renewed vigour.

When Mr Francocci turned to look back at the corpse, all he saw was a pool of blood followed by a frostbitten mouth jutting out with jagged crystals of ice.

---

“I’ll take the wheel,” Omar said as he slammed the boot closed and sidled up in the driver’s seat. It was a voice that brokered no discussion and no debate. He adjusted the rear view mirror to take a good look at himself. Even wit the blood wiped off his face, he could still see it, still feel it. Something greasy crawled on his skin that made him want to scratch it off.

The drive was silent on the way to the station. The streets were emptier now and the rain had intensified into a downpour. The roof of the cruiser sounded as though it was being pounded by a foreman. In the rear view, Omar could see the perp being restless in his seat, leaning back and forth. He tugged against his handcuffs for a moment and then, limply gave up on his efforts. He shuffled forward and craned his neck towards the cage that separated him from Mira and Omar.

“ Hey, what the hells’got you two so spooked. You were chatty - “

“ Do us both a favor,” Omar interrupted, leaning back to look at the perp. “ And shut the fuck up.”

Twenty minutes of near peaceful driving returned some warmth back into Omar’s hands. The sound of the round almost washed away his memories of killing two people today. In fact, all he could dread was the huge deluge of paperwork he would have to sift through to write the incident report.

When the station came into view, Omar noticed two things that were wrong.

Firstly, the western gate was left wide open. It was normally closed to prevent civilians from entering.

Secondly, a cruiser was parked at a slant angle to the entrance, the lights still flashing.

“ What the hell….,” Omar parked the car a few feet away from the cruiser. The rain briefly calmed and he could make out a figure dressed in a service coat behind the truck. They weren’t moving towards them or making any sort of motion whatsoever. They were just standing still.

“ Stay in the damn car,” Omar said to the perp. “ Mira, watch over him. I’ll check on what the hell’s going on.” He stepped out, blinded by the shower of rain. He parted his arms through the dense thick rain as he stepped closer. He squinted and he could make out a tuft of ginger hair in the weather.

“ Bromley? What’s going on. Bromley -,” The figure turned around and Omar swore out loud as he saw the same frigid blue eyes and gnashing teeth back at the gas station, only with a different face.

“ Fuck, Mira! He’s turned into one of those fucking things!”

The passenger door of Mira’s car flew open as the Corporal stepped out, even in the darkness and rain her shocked, wide eyes visible. “Jesus!” Mira slammed the door and rounded the car as Omar stepped backwards away from Bromley. Bromley started forward and Mira reached for her pistol when she saw movement out of the corner of her right eye. She turned to see three more shapes lumbering down the sidewalk towards herself and Omar, shuffling their feet along as the rain coated them in liquid sheeting. A fellow deputy and it looked like two civilians, all three with that same dead look in their eyes, their faces a bluish-gray hue like Bromley and those two suspects back at the station. Mira started to step back to her left when she saw more movement off to the left, two more civilians just like the others.

What the hell is this!?

Mira felt it, that same freezing fear that gripped her heart like a cold, clawed hand. Her throat tightened, her hands or feet neither would seem to move. This could not be real and yet it was, if this were a nightmare Mira would have long woken up by now. What was happening? Why was it happening?

Bromley made a loud, mindless half shout, half growl, and it spurred Mira to action. She raised her pistol and trained the sights on Bromley’s face, her nerves overcome by the pump of adrenaline she was feeling across her body. Mira pulled the trigger, the resulting bang and muzzle flash cutting through the rainy darkness. There was a spray of red and Bromley crumpled back onto the asphalt. “Move, inside Omar!” Mira dashed forward slapping Omar across the arm. She was about to make a break through the gate when her feet slid to a stop, the Corporal looking back towards the patrol car. The suspect was still inside, the shadow of his head darting around in the backseat.

We can’t just leave him out here, criminal or not - not to the devices of these… freaks.

“Omar,” Mira said his name for the second time, “get… get the perp. I’ll keep them back!”

Mira gave Omar a hard push for the second or maybe third time this very early morning as she turned to face the coming three. She raised her pistol and took aim at the deputy, Mira recognized him as a new guy on the force. Terrell? Terrell and the two civilians at his side moved forward shoulder to shoulder, shoes scrubbing against the concrete as they looked their would-be prey in the eyes. That’s what she was - prey.

“Stay back!” Mira shouted, already knowing it was pointless. The three were less than twenty feet away and Mira felt her hands shaking now. She heard another “growl” nearby and knew there were more of these forsaken things around. Mira tightened the her muscles in her hands and fingers as she aimed for Terrell. Sorry… Mira fired a second time, the bullet hitting Terrell just below the right eye, shattering bone and leasing blood across his face. The deputy fell backward, knocking down the freak on his right as he collapsed leaving only one standing to continue towards Mira. Mira swiveled her pistol and fired again, hitting the next target directly in the forehead - its’ head snapping back as it fell face first onto the ground.

Mira glanced towards the car and then back to the three fallen bodies, the one scrambling to stand back up again. Mira could see shadows moving across the street and down the opposite sidewalk. There must be more than a dozen of them…

“ Oh, jesus, oh fuck -” The thief blubbered out loud. Omar almost sympathized the man and then, it was quickly lost when he remembered how he ended up handcuffed in their patrol vehicle in the first place. He rocked back and forth, a terrified expression on his face. “ Please let this be a dream, please let this be a dream…”

Omar opened the back door without a word and grabbed the shaking thief roughly by the shoulders. The thief’s denim hoodie was no match for the downpour and became immediately soaked. It was then that Omar immediately realized how hard it was just to see in the rain. The relentless sheets of grey splattered down onto the roads and seemingly cloaked the shambling bodies towards him. The sound of Mira’s pistol echoed in the wind -

And then, for the second time today, something grabbed him by the ankle again. Omar looked down and gaped in horror as he saw the freckled face of Emma Hopkins. She was a rookie in the force like him. Now, her dimpled face snarled flecks of blue spittle, paddling herself on the wet road wit what remained of the rest of her limbs.

“Motherfuck-” Omar swore as he brought his foot down and slammed down on Emmas head. What remained of his fellow officer became little more than a stain on his boot as meaty chunks sprayed all over the asphalt. The thief looked deathly pale and heaved over in a dry gag.

“ Holy shit, man-” The thief’s eyes then perked up and pointed over Omar’s shoulder. “ Look out!”

It only took a moan from behind for Omar’s reflexes to kick in. He swung his baton behind in an arc, aiming for what he hoped was the face. It stopped as though lodged in a piece of wood. Clamped around it were the jaws of another body. An EMT, by the looks of it. Their uniform was stained brown and red, old and new blood. The former EMT wrenched his head away and to Omar’s horror, the baton began to crack.

Police batons were made out of high quality oak wood coated in Teflon polymer. He once saw an officer drop it into the department’s wood chipper and come out the other end unscathed.The EMT had now bitten off a piece and was now grinding it like taffy between his molars. His head then disappeared in a puff of blood followed by the sound of a shotgun being reracked. The headless body collapsed to the ground and behind him was a grizzled old man, white muttonchops on either side of his cheek, and a furred stetson on his head.

“ Omar, that you?”

“Jack, the hell’s going on?!,” The old officer didn’t bother replying and walked towards him, shotgun still in hand, before hissing and clutching his left wrist. He turned the other side of his palm and blood trickled from his wrist, dripping from several dented cuts in the shape of teeth.

“ We were just returning back from the..Gah!,” Jack waved his wrist and shook his head as though a bee stung him. “ - the hospital. Then, the morgues…..they started coming out of the fucking morgues, man.”

“ Where’s our reinforcements? What about the station?”

“ Most of the station’s been infected. I’m…”Both of their eyes wavered towards the gouged cut on Jack’s wrist and then, locked onto each other again. “…..Listen, that’s not important right now. Last I heard, they’re calling the National Guard in for a quarantine.. You and Mira have to evacuate, leave the - “

Both Omar and Jack froze as they heard a loud-pitched chalk-like screech. It came at random intervals, scraping on the road like a careening automobile. The dark shadow lumbered out from behind a set of dumpsters near the station. Blue like claws dragged on the pavement like some demented ice skater. Its maw was a pit of icicles jutting out, some piercing through the cheek and sprouting from its chest. Somehow, even though its body was shredded beyond belief, it steadily treaded towards the trio of officers, gangly arms by its side.

“ Oh shit.”

Mira fired a third and fourth shot, dropping two more of the freaks that were closing in on the car. We can’t stay here! We need to get inside! Mira had heard what Jack had said, about most of the rest of the station being “infected”. So, what - is practically everyone inside like this? Warped into these things? Mira couldn’t believe that, and even if it were so Jack had said “most of”. There could still very well be others inside that were alive and fine and desperately in need of help. And on top of that she and Omar needed better equipping for this, more body protection and a pair of shotguns at least if not something heavier duty. She honestly didn’t know what they were going to do about the perp, she guessed they could secure him inside while they figured out what the hell to do next.

“Omar, let’s-!”

Mira’s words were cut off as she caught site of the abomination that came out from behind the dumpsters. “Christ…” she muttered, heart freezing up in her chest. The creature came closer, its hideous malformed body like something from a science fiction film. The scraping of its icy appendages made Mira’s hair raise. This isn’t real… this can’t be real. Mira blinked hard, her throat constricting as when she opened her eyes she still saw the terrible beast approaching. Something in her spurred her forward though - nothing short of basic survival instinct at this point. Whatever that thing was, whatever these other things were, these things that were once people, they had to get away from them.

“Run for the door!” Mira’s voice neared a shrillness she hadn’t heard from herself since she was in high school maybe.

“What?” Jack shouted, “I just said that-“

“We can’t just leave anyone who may need help behind,” Mira shouted, her voice near cracking, “besides we need to grab some things from inside!”

“Goddamn it…” Jack hissed, turning and firing his shotgun at an approaching figure, the blast sending it careening back onto the sidewalk. Mira hopped across a car hood and started across the police parking lot, shouting again for the others to come on. Omar, Jack, and the criminal followed behind her, Jack turning to blast another one of the “infected” civilians. The icicle ridden beast was following along but it didn’t seem to be very fast - unable to close any distance behind the four running people. Mira could see more of the assailants closing in, what had to be well over thirty of them at this point - all snarling and and groaning like primal animals. Their eyes and gruesome faces filled only with a desire to savage their would-be prey. The rain was relentless, hail and lighter pieces of frozen rain bounced across the asphalt and covered the steps up to the back door of the station. Everyone slipped about at least once or twice, some of the “infected” attackers as well. Jack nearly fell but steadied himself to keep up with the others. Mira reached the top of the steps and threw open the doors, bolting inside followed by Omar, the perp, and Jack - the final slamming the doors behind him.