Pandemic 002

Not knowing.
That’s what he hated most.
Not knowing what caused this.
Not knowing what sickness she had.
Not knowing if there was a treatment or cure.
Not knowing if she would be ok or not.

None of the highest doctors in the camp could diagnose what Sam was sick with. A specialist had to be called in.
“Chief? Did you hear anything that I just said?”
Chief glanced up from his plate, looking at the red bearded man sitting across from him.
The man, known as Watson to most of the camp members, looked a tad bit concerned. “Are you feeling okay? You barely touched your food, and you’ve been sort of out of it all day.”
“Out of it?” the master chief queried, raising his eyebrow only slightly.
Watson’s usual genuine smile wasn’t visible at this point. “You’ve acted like there’s nobody around you, basically. No responses to greetings or comments, not even a bat of an eyelash when Dunny set fire to the ammunition tent.”
Chief said nothing and just watched the commander with a stoic expression.
Watson sighed. “It’s about Sam’s case, isn’t it?” he assumed.
Upon receiving no response, he continued with a smile of reassurance. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.” He said, “The doctors will do their thing, and soon as you know it, everything will be back to normal.”
“Hm.” Was all chief muttered. He glanced at the other residents of the mess hall, thinking to himself.
Maybe Watson was right. Maybe Chief really had nothing to worry about. It’d just been a long day with tiring events and Chief was exhausted.
Without another word, he stood up from his table.
Watson looked at him. “You haven’t eaten anything yet. Where are you going?”
“I’m not hungry.” Chief replied as he turned to leave, “Let me know if anything changes.”
“You’ll be the first.” Watson replied.
Chief nodded with acknowledgement and walked to the exit, his hands resting in his pants pockets. He had only just reached the doors when a blood curling scream erupted behind him. He spun around fast on his heels, his eyes pin pointing the source of distress.
Everyone was piling out of their tabled and gathering toward the back corner of the tent.
“It’s Maria!” someone yelled above the noisy chatter of anxiety.
Chief hurried over without hesitation and pushed his way past the group, stopping when he saw what was wrong...
Maria lay on the floor in a fetal position...
Skin pale white, eyes rolled to the back of her head...
... and bearing the same feverish symptoms as Sam.

Fire burned all around her, but she felt so cold... dangerously so.
It was a bad cold, piercing her spine and radiating throughout her body... She would call it fear, but it was beyond so.
Run. Run, Maria. Run. Find a place to hide before the other one finds you. You’re in danger, soon to be dead.
From the blaze, she spotted two golden eyes staring straight at her.
She had been found.
“NO!” she shrieked and spun around to flee.
A wall of fire blocked her way.
She had nowhere to run.
The beast’s hot breath was against her neck now, notifying her that it was right behind her.
She spun around with sheer terror and saw it’s terrible grin of malice.
It’s thick matted fur was ablaze with flames, but unhurting of the beast. Smoke billowed from his mouth and nostrils each time it breathed. It seemed to laugh mockingly at her in its piecing gaze as it’s massive form stood upon four clawed legs.
She screamed one last scream as it plunged it’s fangs deep into her throat.