One
Prologue
LIVE BROADCAST — CHANNEL 7 NEWS
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GRAPHIC: RED BANNER — “BREAKING NEWS” scrolling across the bottom of the screen
CHYRON: OUTBREAK UPDATE — CDC URGES RESIDENTS TO SHELTER IN PLACE
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Camera is slightly shaky. A woman stands under harsh portable lighting on a dark street. Sirens wail in the distance. Behind her, a military convoy rolls slowly past a line of abandoned cars. Red and blue lights strobe across wet pavement.
REPORTER (LINDA VOSS): Pressing her earpiece, voice tight but professional
“—Steve,I’m here live on Bancroft Avenue, just three blocks from Mercy General Hospital, where the National Guard has established what they’re calling a ‘containment corridor.’ I want to be very clear with our viewers about what we’re seeing here tonight because it isunlikeanything I have reported on in my fifteen years with this station.”
She swallows. Her hand trembles slightly around the microphone.
“The CDC held a press briefing roughly forty minutes ago in which they confirmed that the pathogen—which they are still classifying as a mutated strain of viral encephalitis—has spread to at least fourteen states. The infected exhibit extreme aggression, loss of cognitive function, and—”
She pauses. A sound rises in the background—a guttural, wet moaning, like someone trying to scream through a mouthful of fluid.
“—and what medical personnel on the ground here are describing as a complete cessation of higher brain activity while motor functions remain active.”
The camera shifts slightly. The cameraman pans toward a side alley, then quickly snaps back to Linda.
CAMERAMAN (off-mic, barely audible):
“Linda. Linda. There’s something inthe—”
LINDA: Eyes darting to the right, then back to the camera. Forced composure.
“We are being advised by military personnel to remain in this area, but I want to show our viewers—Marcus, can you turn the camera toward the hospital?”
The camera swings. Mercy General is in the distance. Every window on the ground floor is dark. The upper floors flicker with emergency lighting. A plume of black smoke rises from somewhere behind the building. Shapes—dozens of them—are milling in the parking lot. They move wrong. Jerking. Lurching. Some of them are dragging limbs at angles that should not be possible.
“What you are seeing… those are patients. Those were patients. The hospital was overrun approximately six hours ago. Staff attempted to evacuate the ICU and the emergency wing, but…”
Her voice cracks.
“They didn’t make it out. Most of them didn’t make it out.”
Camera swings back to Linda. She’s pale. Mascara slightly smudged. Her blazer is wrinkled, and there’s a dark stain on her sleeve that could be coffee. Could be something else.
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CHYRON UPDATE: DEATH TOLL RISES TO 12,000+ — PRESIDENT TO ADDRESS NATION AT 11 PM EST
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ANCHOR (STEVE)—through earpiece, heard faintly:
“Linda, we’re getting reports of a second breach in the quarantine zone near your location. Are you able to confirm—”
“Steve, I—yes. Yes, we heard gunfire about twenty minutes ago from the north barricade. Soldiers were running. I saw—I saw a Humvee flip, Steve. Something… acrowdof them pushed it over. I don’t know how—they shouldn’t be that—”