The First Days (As the World Dies 1)

Together they followed the others down the stairs.

3. The World Ends

Katie followed the others down the stairs, Jack faithfully following her.

Nerit and Jenni veered off into an old fashioned kitchen while Ralph continued down the hall to a comfortable living room. If not for the enormous flat screen TV it would have looked like the Norman Rockwell version of the perfect grandparent's home.

On the screen scenes of violence were playing while in the corner in big green lettering it read "MUTE".

"Got tired of watching. Too much talk, too little information," Ralph told her.

Katie stood mesmerized as the scenes of mayhem played out. Dutifully recorded by the media, visions of destruction and violence played. A reporter came into view, motioning at the city, obviously standing high above street level and out of the range of the violence. It looked like New York City.

Throngs of bloodied, crazed people were running down the street, attacking cars, buildings and the people within. The army was firing at will into the crowd.

"This morning they called it race riots. When it hit more cities, they called it mob violence. Early this afternoon they started calling them "the infected". " Ralph sat down in a comfortable, over-stuffed chair.

Katie sat slowly on a flowered sofa with big crocheted doilies decorating the back and armrests. Jack sat at her feet and yawned.

"I never saw or heard the news," she said softly. "I was attacked during early morning rush hour. A man…he tried to rescue me but they got him.

Jack belongs-belonged to him. On Jack's vet papers it says the owner was the Reverend William Hampton. He saved my life. "

Ralph nodded. "And you saved the girl with you. "

"Yes," Katie's gaze remained fixated on the screen. It was now showing a map of the United States highlighting where all the violence was occurring. "I had driven home to check on my…spouse. " She hesitated, not really sure if she wanted to come out of the closet to this old-timer. "It was too late. "

"They got him," the old man said softly.

Lydia rushing toward her, screaming, her chest torn open…

Katie nodded mutely and wiped away a tear. "Yes. "

Ralph shook his head. "It's gone crazy. The whole world. "

"Can I hear?" Katie motioned to the TV.

Ralph hesitated, then reached out, snagged the remote, and unmuted the TV.

"…and for anyone to suggest that this is something more than a viral infection that is causing psychotic behavior is ludicrous. We are not living in the dark ages," the man on the screen said firmly.

"Because of the severe wounds on the attackers, people are claiming the attackers are actually the reanimated dead," the reporter pointed out.

"Preposterous! We live in a modern era of medicine and science, not superstition. If we do not treat this as a medical crisis immediately we are doomed. Those who have been bitten and are infected must immediately report to the nearest hospital for treatment," the man identified as Philip Tri

tch was saying tersely.

"Most of the hospitals are now overrun with the…the CDC called them reanimated corpses. "

"The CDC has fallen prey to the hysteria of a population overwhelmed by the mass infection of an Ebola-like virus…"

Ralph muted the TV. "'Bout one o'clock they said not to go to the hospitals anymore. Then CDC came on air and said it was a bunch of dead people getting up. Called them reanimated dead. Found it funny. Nobody wants to say zombie. "

Katie smiled slightly, remembering her own reluctance to embrace that word. When had that changed? She wasn't sure. But it was clear to her now that the dead had returned.

And so she sat, watching the screen, watching reporters trying to report live from around the world only to be run down and torn apart. She watched anchormen and women break down crying as more and more reports flowed in. Maps were flashed on the screen showing where blackouts were already occurring. TV helicopters hovered over masses of the reanimated dead as they ran through the streets howling, chasing anyone still alive. Scenes of fires burning, the army firing, bombs exploding…

"It's the end," the old man said.