"Casualties are high. The disease seems to bespreading at an exponential rate. We received the first reports about ten daysago, but last night it erupted into a full-scale epidemic. All roads out of thecity are clogged with traffic or hordes of infected. At this point, we estimate25% of the population has been infected, 15% of that within the last day."
"Do you have any good news?"
The woman's smile was pinched as she said, "The highis supposed to be 80 degrees with about ten percent humidity."
The General looked at the woman. "Is that supposedto be a joke?"
"No, sir. It was the only good piece of news that Icould come up with off the top of my head."
The General stopped walking and looked the woman in theeye as he spoke, "The next time someone asks you if there's any good news,you say, 'I'm still alive.' That's the best news anyone can possibly have. Ifyou're able to think and breathe, well, you've always got good news in yourback pocket. Now let's get our asses on the news."
****
Around the city, handfuls of people watched as thegrizzled man with the wrinkled face, the gray buzz cut, and the chest full ofcommendations spoke on the news.
"At this time, Portland is now under martial law.Those who feel ill need to put a white flag on their door. We will get to youeventually. Stay in your houses. Avoid contact with others. Curfew is at 5o'clock. Anyone caught looting, or engaged in other uncivil activities, will beshot on sight.
"We are in a state of emergency. We need your helpto keep this disease from spreading outside of the city. Stay in your house. Donot attempt to leave the city. All vehicles will be stopped... one way oranother. This is for your safety, so help us do our job, and we can all getback to normal within a few days hopefully."
The General disappeared, and a newswoman came on the air.Her eyes were red, and it looked like she had been crying. A number flashedacross the screen and citizens were urged to call the number if they had anemergency.
Those that tried to call soon found the number just asbusy and useless as 911. Throughout the city, gunshots could be heard ashelicopters buzzed through the sky. Things were not looking good in Portland.
****
The General walked through the corridors of the newsstation, until he came to the room that had been set up as his forward command.He sat at the desk and began going through the maps. Known activity for theinfected was marked on the first map, collected from unanswered police calls,satellite imagery, and their own soldiers' observations. He was disheartened bywhat he saw. It was all over the city. There wasn't a single area of more thana few blocks that didn't seem to be touched.
He flipped the page and saw another map; this oneslightly larger. The outlying areas had experienced the same sort of growth.Things weren't going south. They had gone south before the call was even putin.
The General flipped another page... this time he had amap of the entire United States. He didn't even bother flipping to the nextmap, the one of the entire world.
Instead, The General stood looking out the floor toceiling window on the 35th floor of the second tallest building in Portland.The tallest building was on fire, burning from the ground up it looked like.
He stood with his hands behind his back, trying to puttogether a plan that would get this country back in order, a plan that wouldkeep the dead in the ground.
Someone knocked on the door. "Enter," hecalled. He hoped the eggheads were having better luck coming up with a solutionthan he was.
It was a soldier, a young sort, not the sort of dull-eyedveteran he was used to ordering around. He could almost smell the kid's uneaseas he stood there. He turned away from the majestic view of burning Portlandand said, "Speak."
"Sir, we just received notification that thePresident and the rest of the cabinet have been moved underground. Things inD.C. have escalated." The soldiers eyes became impossibly wide.
Fucking part-timers. What was it now? The General turnedto see what had the kid so spooked. As he spun around, he had time to glimpse ahelicopter spinning out of control, infected civilians and soldiers hanging offof the skids. The pilot was fighting the bird, and it was spinning directlytowards them. The General had time to wish for a cigarette before the mainrotor hit the thick glass of the skyscraper.
The room erupted in a shower of deadly glass shards, oneof which went right through The General's mid-section. He didn't even have timeto fall as the helicopter disintegrated and then erupted, spewing fire all overthe 35th floor of the second tallest building in Portland.
Much of the wreckage of the helicopter fell to theground. Throughout the city, dead, unfocusing eyes turned their attention tothe explosion of the skyscraper. They watched the flames with impassive faces,their feet moving at a methodical pace towards the place where the latest signof prey had come from.
All around the city, the living hid in their houses,peering out the windows, waiting for the dead to come calling.
Prologue
The branches scratched at her face and arms as shescrambled down the slope, dewy grass and vicious briars caressing her ankles.The moans from above rained down upon her, driving her like a steer in themidst of a stampede. Wild tangles of blonde hair caught on branches thatreached out to her like angry lovers. Her eyes were wide, and she flailed withher arms as she burst through the trees, ignoring the pain.
At the bottom of the slope, she splashed into brackish,knee-deep water, brown like tea, lifeless and stale. The screams from the topof the hill drifted across the morning air, hitting her ears like lashes from awhip, forcing her faster through the water, if it could even be called that. Itwas more like nature's sewage. She hooked her foot on a submerged root andtumbled down, filling her mouth with the flavor of decaying leaves and mud. Shegasped
