Red Dawn-The Beginning

Sam stared at the crazy man as he ran out of the building, his cart bustling ahead of him. Things had just got really weird.

"We'll be fine though; people always blow these things out of proportion. Modern medical techniques mean people will always survive. After all what kind of goverment manufactures a virus and forgets to manufacture the vaccine? Right?"

Sam turned around. His sister wasn't there. Of course she wasn't there; he'd have to try and bat off his paranoia on his own.

"Look, miss, you should get out of here. If he's ready to loot a store someone else is probably ready to shoot you or me dead. You should get out now, go home and bunker down till everything is settled. Places like this will get hit first by the nutters which means it's places like this that the military hits first for 'Civil Protection'." Sam turned and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the side, opening it and taking a sip. "I'm not handling a gun like that guy though; no way. I don't even know how. Hell if I have a gun then that immediately ups the stakes, turns me into a target instead of just another schmuck. Nah, that's not going to protect me."

Sam took another swig of the whiskey, his hands shaking slightly. "I can't stay around here. It's not a good time to be a foreigner right now."

Well the hospital was definitely lacking in tear gas but the guns had made their way in. No sooner had Mikey stepped into the lobby did Army Rangers run in, leading masked and armed men into the hospital. It looked like the men had sick too though at some certain point they decided they were better than everyone else and went guns blazing into the hospital. Before Mikey could even wonder why the Rangers let them pass the answer came to him as one of the masked men stepped in, half dragging a Ranger at gunpoint. It looked like a definite hostage situation and no doubt it was from sheer luck they managed it. Mikey ducked back around the corner, in case a firefight broke out, and so he could have a moment to bury his face in his palm. No matter how stupid you were, you don't screw around the the U.S. Army, did these guys expect to get out alive?

It's not my problem, he thought as he looked around the corner again. No doubt the Rangers were just biding their time until they had the chance to end the confrontation. No doubt that included guns too and without a gun himself that left only the option to take cover or get out. Mikey went with the get out option.

Going in the opposite direction, Mikey made his way into the main patient wards. He made sure to keep out of the way of people in a rush and to stay a safe distance away from the most sickly of patients. He doubted though that made any difference but it was more to make himself comfortable rather than for actual safety. He reminded himself to try and find a gas mask later on, just in case.

Mikey was beginning to think his search was useless when he couldn't find a nurse or doctor that wasn't working diligently in trying to maintain some kind of order in the hospital. Finally though he found someone he was at least semi-free, the head nurse. She stood behind the medications desk directing the flow and traffic of nurses as well as medication. He had to assume they were running low on vital medicines and were trying to keep what they had in check. Stepping over, he stayed to the side of the traffic of nurses and doctors and nearly shouted," Excuse me!" Until he got her attention," Real quick, I'm looking for Dr. Roseltin!"

"Yeah you have a point. Where are you staying? I hope it's not in a hotel. Tourists are crazy enough as it is, no offense. Give them a reason to be crazy and all hell will break loose," Mila replied, trying to think of what she should do.

First thing would have to be calling her mother. With two younger brothers at home, she was definitely worried about their safety in a time like this. Secondly, she'd have to find a way onto the internet. While it was true that one can never believe everything one hears/sees on the internet, it was more likely to give her a broader view of what was going on than American news programming alone.

Daniel turned to face the cop and wrung his hands noticing they were still shaking.

"He was sick and he shot himself. I tried to stop him...but I...." he looked back over his shoulder at the brain matter mess and promptly vomited. After his stomach stopped retching he looked up his face pale and embarrassed stumbled through an apology.

"I'm sorry....I've never seen a dead body before...much less like that." He waved his hand in the general direction of the deceased sick man.

"I'm staying in that motel down the street. The one with the sign where only half the letters still light up, so they spell out a rudeword." Sam shrugged slightly, "I wasn't really planning on staying. Meant to be getting a flight. Ha!"

He began wandering down an aisle, unsure of what to do. "Supplies. Supplies. I know I have a book to help me with this somewhere......"

Sam dove into his bag and pulled out The Zombie Survival Guide; he began to urgently flick through the pages. "Let's see.....Water, canned food (three cans per day), medical kit, rechargeable torch, shit...lots of things."

He sighed slightly and looked up at the checkout girl, "At least we don't need weapons for fighting off Zombies eh? That'd be a laugh."

Mila followed him; it wasn't like there were going to be any customers to ring up if they kept coming in to raid the place. "Yeah good thing... not like we sell any big weapons anyway. Just a utility or kitchen knife or two. But uh, I guess we should get some things anyway..." she said, mind racing as to what they might need in a crisis. Years of hurricane survival drills had her thinking of things like water, canned food, matches, etc. But if there were going to be riots... something to defend herself with sounded apt.

All she owned at home was a butter knife and an airsoft gun.

"Generic aspirin, I'll have that. A couple of big bottles of water, you'll do. Beans, beans, beans, beans and a tin of pineapples. This is kind of fun." Sam gave a nervous laugh, "Down with the capitalist machine! Redistrubite the products to the people! Ahahaha. Ha. Oh gods."

He looked at his rapidly filling backpack. This was going to get tough. "We need another backpack. And....if you really want some sort of defence get a baseball bat."

"Better idea," Mila said, eying an aisle several feet away. Jogging around the corner, she returned with a sturdy shovel. A pointed metal end was held in place by a light-weight but strong wooden pole. Throwing it over her shoulder, she looked around at some of the things her companion had picked up.

"Hmm, I'm going to need a few things myself..." she muttered, taking off down another isle. When she came back, she had a red basket in her hands and it was filled with some water of her own, acetaminophen, a small first aid kit, and a package of feminine pads. She headed towards the food section, then thought of something else. A backpack for herself wasn't a bad idea, she decided, and turned around.

"Jesus christ check out woman!" Sam said as he saw her round the corner with a shovel. "You could kill someone with that!"

Still, it did look kind of mean. Sam just wasn't sure he had it in him to bludgeon anyone. But in a place like this a weapon was probably not a help but a neccessity, so he went walked to a sport section and picked up a titanium baseball bat. It'd do for him.

Looping it through the top if his bag he headed back to find the check out girl, unsure of what to do next. In a manner of minutes he had convinced a store clerk to abandon her position, stole from a major company and picked up a weapon. If this wasn't the start of some sort of revolution then he had to be high. "Hey, miss? I'm Sam by the way."

The nurses finished setting up the sick and dashed off, and Matt's headset buzzed. "Badger 5-2, this is SWAT Team 8. We are ready to begin taking out the hostiles. If your team is ready, respond Phoenix." Matt gulped, and took a deep breath. "Phoenix." "Copy that."

Matt saw distant flashes from the skyscraper, and then the rogue pointing a pistol at the hostage Ranger dropped, shooting his pistol into the ceiling as he died. Four more rogues dropped like stones, and one spewed blood all over Matt. Matt lifted his rifle and began firing, dropping two stunned rogues. The hostage Ranger grabbed a fallen rogue's pistol and began shooting from behind the chair. The other Rangers took firing positions and opened up, and the rogues were only able to get a few shots off before they went down. One Ranger spun as a bullet hit him, and he went down yelping in pain. Matt saw a rogue hiding behind a gurney and took him down with two shots to the face. Then it was over. "Team 8, all hostiles are down. Good work. Thanks for the assist, Badger 5-2 out."

The Rangers surveyed the rogues. Some were still alive, but were mortally injured. The sick moaned or yelped in pain as their rogue friends lay dead or wounded around them.

"Private Jenkins, get Specialist Kingsley to a hospital room. The rest of you, let's head back outside. Move!" The Rangers dashed outside, excluding the two soldiers Matt had given other instructions too. As they came outside, two UH-60 Blackhawk and two MH-6 Little Bird choppers flew in. One carried a team of National Guardsmen who dropped more teargas on the crowd, and the other landed, dropping off fifteen National Guardsmen who dashed forward, carrying military barricades and supply crates. The MH-6s dropped off loads of ten more National Guardsmen, and then flew over the crowd, launching tear gas out of the rocket pods, and then flew off along with one of the Blackhawks. The other Blackhawk remained, circling. The Guardsmen began setting up the barricades and the crowd began to disperse, or at least, fall back. A National Guard Lieutenant saluted Captain Coles. "Sir, we're here to assist you. President's mobilizing every military unit on the continent. We brought more vaccines and basic medical supplies. A C-130 will be flying by shortly to deliver more supplies. Hopefully we have enough manpower to subdue the crowd and bring order." He glanced at the bodies of some of the dead civilians. "We'll get rid of those too."

Several National Guardsmen put the bodies in body bags, and began cleaning the road off to remove the blood. Matt took a huge breath and exhaled a sigh of relief. They weren't alone now.

Michael:

The nurse looks up, her expression tired and wary. "Dr. Roseltin's office is down the hall to your left, three doors down. He's on the phone with the district manager." She listens to an aide who dashes up, and smiles a tired smile. "More supplies arrived." Several nurses dash down the hall, and come back leading National Guardsmen carrying supply crates, where they are dropped off in the hall. The National Guardsmen dash off, carrying bodybags and cleaning supplies to clean up the bodies of the rogues.

Daniel:

The police officer nods. "Alright. Listen. All of you who are sick, I want you to sit down over there. If you aren't, sit down next to me and take a mask and put it on." The cop pulls out a bag full of white, sterile paper face masks. "An ambulance should be here to take the body away. And some more officers will arrive to escort you all to the hospital to receive vaccines and treatment, if you are sick. And don't try to argue. This is a government order."

"Heh. I was starting to wonder if you'd introduce yourself. I'm Mila, but I'm sure you can tell that by the name tag. So uh, you got family you're here with? Or do you always come to the States alone?" she said, actually wondering for herself if she could really kill someone with a shovel. She was sure she was capable physically, as the shovel was definitely a combination blunt-force/puncturing weapon (if used properly) and not terribly heavy to wield. However, whether or not she could stomach knocking the teeth out of someone with it, she wasn't so sure.

But, with any luck, it wouldn't come to that. She could pay for her things so that she wouldn't get fired if she ever came back, and if things really got bad enough, the money wouldn't be worth anything soon anyway.

With these things in mind, she went up to the register, dutifully rang herself up, and then frowned. The credit/debit system was down. Oh well. She tried.

If she was going to steal things, might as well steal something worthwhile; she stuffed a bag of chocolate into her newly acquired backpack.

Sam hesitated at her questions. Still she seemed to be offering him shelter so it'd be best if he was polite and answered them. "Not got any family out here, no. Just friends of mine I met doing nerdy things. I've done a lot of travelling and I guess you can't travel and not go to america. It breaks some sort of cosmic law or something."

He hefted his backpack onto his shoulders and took another quick sip of the whiskey. God only knew how this day could get any worse.

"Well, I'm ready whenever you are. I recommend we stay off the main streets though; the police may be out and about and we don't half look suspicious."

Plus if they search my bag I'm doomed.

"No worries. I know the back roads. Um, you got anything back at the hotel you need to pick up? I actually live closer than the one you mentioned, but I don't mind driving a little further," Mila said, glad she had a car to drive around in a time like this. No way would she want to be walking down the street if people were willing to steal from a department store in broad daylight with plenty of security cameras around. Who knows what they'd do to someone carrying a backpack obviously stuffed with potentially valuable items.

Shovel or not, Mila wouldn't be able to fight off a car if someone decided that the two of them looked like future roadkill.

"I've got a big bag full of clothes," he shrugged slightly. "I can deal without them. I've got my passport and my money is all electronic, so....well perhaps a few more T-shirts."

Sam itched his head and smiled slightly, "A spare hat too."

He started to walk towards the door but hesitated and turned to Mila, "So, are we going to lock up? Or leave the place open to the public?"

Daniel reluctantly took the mask putting it on and sitting down near the officer. Hopefully they were seperating the groups so they could get the other treatments but somehow he doubted it. Maybe he was just paranoid though. Maybe he'd seen too many movies.

He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. I should have called out. Now I'm going to be home late he thought to himself. He opened his cell phone to text his wife and let her know he'd be home late when he noticed he had no bars.

Just my luck. Damn phone.

"I have some gender-neutral T-shirts at home that'd probably fit you if you find yourself needing a change of clothes. But hopefully we won't have to hide for that long. I'm really curious to see what's been put up on Youtube that we won't be able to see on the news, though. You know how the media hides certain things," she said as the two walked into the parking lot. It was unsurprisingly empty.

Rifling through her small purse, she finally dug out a Star Wars keychain which held all of her 8 keys. The biggest one was a simple black key which was somewhat worn down from use. "Well, this is my car. Friend of mine named it Oliver, but I honestly don't see the point in naming a car," Mila mentioned as they crossed the distance to a green Camry with a few little dents and scrapes from its 16 years of existence.

It took a few tries for her to get the doors open, as sometimes the key refused to catch like it was supposed to. It had been doing that ever since she got it, but she'd never bothered to get it fixed. The same was true for the "check engine" light and the interior dome light.

Michael nodded a quick thanks and dodged the one man carrying supplies. He stopped though to watch another pair of men carry a black body bag by. Mikey frowned and shook his head, it looked like they had already taken care of the armed men. He couldn't help but pity them but he'd shed no tears over their loss, only a fool messes with the U.S. Military so in a way it was just natural selection taking place.

With the nurse's directions it was simple enough to find the office of the doctor he was looking for. He stopped before opening the door and heard a one sided conversation on the other side, seemed the doctor was still on the phone with the District manager. It would be rude to interrupt but this might be the only chance he'd have to talk to the doctor before he went off again to be as busy as the rest of the staff here. Knocking gently on the door, he opened it and waited by the door frame for the doctor to finish the conversation.

"I want to see what the BBC has put up," Sam said as he sat himself in the passenger seat. "They remained neutral during the Falkland war, so I can't see why they wouldn't tell the truth now. They do have a lot of reporters in the US too. That's if the BBC website is still up. But yeah, youtube is a good idea. Be careful mind; there'll be a lot of hoaxes up on it."

He pulled out his baseball bat and laid it on his lap. Just in case someone tries to jump us I guess. If I can bring myself to swing it.

"Um. In the UK we are enforced to have our cars checked once a year. You know....that engine check light might be important....just you know....Sorry. I shouldn't complain when you're giving me a lift." Sam itched his chin again, feeling nervous. "I don't like how any of this has happened. It's not right; Governments should have better control than this. Well they would if they knew what they were doing."

"Where's the nearest hospital by the way? We should stay as far away from there as possible. Banks too."

"Haha, actually no. My check-engine light has been on since the day I got this car. My father said he had it checked out by a mechanic before he gave it to me and they told him that it was just an issue with the computer. Never had a problem with my engine, but I always pay attention to any little changes in the way the car drives or sounds just in case. So far, it's been one durable little Jap-mobile."

Mila sat down in the driver's seat and waited for Sam to take the passenger side before locking the doors. Just as with the lock, it took her several tries to get the key to catch in the ignition. "Uh, the nearest hospital is...uh...that's a good question. I know of some about twenty minutes away, towards where my mom lives, but I've never had to go to one while living here. I'm sure there's one close, but yeah. And banks are everywhere, but I really don't see any need to go there anyway."

As she pulled out of the parking lot, Mila got one of those "what am I getting myself into?" thoughts circling 'round her head, but she ignored it like she usually did. No sooner had she left the lot, she was shocked by the number of cars on the street. Very few were actually occupied, but those that were had owners who weren't moving. Mila drove slowly, turning away from the main road and all of its congestion, only to be confronted with a scene which she wasn't entirely sure how to comprehend.

In the middle of the road, a bloody streak ran toward the curb, over the hedges, and into the adjacent woods. A car, still running, sat with its nose into a fence and the door slightly ajar, as if its driver had suddenly taken off on foot. More than a little spooked, Mila went around the site at a much faster speed than before, turning up her radio as if it could drown out her worries.

The rest of the back roads were relatively clear as they went along; meanwhile, Benjamin Burnley's voice flowed from the Camry's speakers with a background of guitars, drums, and even some violins.

"If people are robbing big shops like where you worked then they'll go for anything. Banks, cornershops, even ATM machines; we have to stay away from those to avoid running into potential violence." Sam sighed as he sat in his seat, "The hospital will be overcrowded too if this epidemic is as big as it is at home. Potential for violence could arise there too. I-I don't like how familiar this is. I was in South Africa during some of the riots; the feeling here is too similar. We just need to keep our heads down. It's easy, we're going to be alright. No worries right?"

They passed the crashed car and Sam began to breathe quickly. "Oh shit, this ain't right, this ain't right. Oh god, what the hell is going on? Oh god."

He dove into his bag and began to fumble round, finding his bag of weed. He tried to keep it out of site but quickly glanced at Mila smiling slightly. "D-do you mind if I just have a quick smoke? Oh, thanks and all. I really owe you for this."

Florida
Early Afternoon

The music in the Camry suddenly cuts off. A bleak male voice begins to intone an emergency message. "This is a message from the United States Government. Please listen carefully. All citizens are to report to their nearest medical provider to receive a free vaccination. Please remain calm and orderly. Report any strange mishaps or incidents immediately. National Guardsmen stand by to assist you alongside other law enforcement officers. Please also report to a medical provider to receive a free mask." The message repeats itself again, and again.

Michael:

Richmond Community Hospital, Richmond, VA
Early Afternoon

"-it's chaos outside here. Yes, we got the supplies. We're treating about 60 an hour, but we're running out of space. What? Alright. Call you back, Gill." The doctor slams the phone down and stands there, hunched over his desk with his back to Michael for a few seconds. The middle-aged man turns around, exhaustion etched into his features. "What can I do for you son? And make it quick, I have a crisis to assist to."

Mila tried not to let Sam's near-hyperventilation get to her. She couldn't afford to start freaking out right now. She had to get home. But until then, there was really only one thing she could do to calm her nerves.

She needed to call her mother.

Fetching a flip-phone out of her pocket, she hit the send key, scrolled down to "Mom," and hit send again. Almost immediately, she heard a three-tone chime followed by a woman's voice.

"What!? Of course that number's in service! What the fuck," she cried, exasperated. Trying again, she dialed her father's number, only to be greeted with the same message. "Shit."

As she pocketed the phone again, she reached to turn up the radio and noticed Sam's lopsided, nervous grin. "I'd really rather you didn't smoke in my car...especially not THAT. We're almost there. You can smoke on the porch like all the other tenants do. Kay?"

Before he could answer, a news broadcast cut through the radio advertisement, only to repeat itself indefinitely. "Ah jeez...This is bad."

Major General Alexander Daniels

Richmond Community Hospital, Richmond, VA
Early Afternoon

The OH-56 Kiowa flew just above the rooftops of Richmond, its passenger wanting a clearer view of the furor going on in the streets of Richmond. What had started out as problem at the local hospital threatened to explode into an all out riot. 40-year-old Major General Alexander Jameson Daniels, a senior member of the Directorate of Operations under the Joint Chiefs of Staff. had somehow known today was going to be a lousy day. Heck, the past weeks or months or whatever it was since that damn flu pandemic had started had been one long trail of lousy days, but this one seemed to be taking the cake.

He had been meeting with senior officers in the Virginia National Guard to discuss possible responses if Washington, DC became threatened by potential popular chaos when the alert had sounded. He had known the President was planning on deploying the various state National Guards, but the maelstrom brewing at Richmond Community Hospital and the deployment of Army Rangers to back up local police forces had catapulted further than expected. It was almost humorous in a dark sort of way: despite years of military service and deployments to various so-called 'hot spots'--including Iraq, Afghanistan, Kosovo and Somalia--Alexander, trained as a Civil Affairs man, had never seen or been caught up in live combat, but it almost appeared he might see combat while in administrative/political duty here in his homeland.

Having decided to personally observe what was going on, Alex had asked the Virginians if they could give up a chopper and pilot temporarily. They had agreed and now here he was, flying just over the rooftops to the virtually besieged hospital. Before boarding the procured armed scout helicopter, the Major General had changed into his Army Combat Uniform (ACU) with its universal camouflage pattern. Even though it was hot, he had donned a modular tactical vest and wore the new MICH (Modular Integrated Communication Helmet) TC-2000 combat helmet (as opposed to just a standard cap of some kind). Even odder for a flag officer, he wore not only a sidearm (an M11, the military designation for the 9mm Sig-Sauer P226), but also carried an M4A1 carbine with attached M68 close combat optic and AN/PEQ-4 laser sight. Although junior officers might carry such a load-out, flag officers usually eschewed such battle equipment, but Alex knew he was potentially entering a combat zone, especially when reports of combat came over the chopper's radio system.

As the OH-58 neared the hospital, Alexander could not help but gasp at what he was seeing. The raucous crowd seemed to be expanding with each passing moment and although it seemed like the violence had died down for the moment, it was almost quieting down, like the pin had been pulled on a grenade and it was just waiting to detonate. He had never quite seen this sort of situation before, but he had been told about it by others. This was not a good sign. It looked like the worst of it had fallen back from the immediate line of Guardsmen surrounding the hospital, but for how long would the crowds stay back?

Radioing their presence to the Guardsmen, the chopper made a quick descent after passing over the crowds and nearing the hospital building proper. It came to an abrupt, but very quick, landing between the building and the National Guard barricade. The chopper had barely touched down before Major General Daniels hopped out, holding his M4 diagonally across his chest. Just as soon as the General's feet were planted on terra firma, the chopper lifted off to head back to base. It was a madhouse.

He glanced around quickly and walked quickly over to where he saw the Rangers and National Guardsmen conferring. He did not say anything immediately, instead just listening to what was being said. The first thought that crossed his mind when he heard the statement that the President had already called out basically the entire military because of the crisis was: ...but would it be enough?

Sam listened to the radio message, stuffing his weed back in the bag. Things were getting worse.

"Look, do you want to push on? We can get to your family and check they're alright. I'm not that keen on going to the hospital when I'm neither a citizen and I know the realities of a hospital expected to deal with all of the local populus. It's going to get very cramped." He took some deep breathes and flexed his fingers, trying to picture a calm place in his mind. Instead disaster movies began to get into his mind.

"Everything is going to be alright. Cause we're in America, see? And america always survives in disaster movies." He glanced at the radio and changed frequency; still the same message continued. "Let's see your family is alright, so you've got peace of mind?"

"Disaster movies? Usually. Horror movies? Almost never. But I'd rather not really think about how many of those actually involve the U.S., or the whole world for that matter, going to hell," Mila replied as she turned down a road in the opposite direction of her studio apartment. It was probably a good idea that they were going this way anyway; her mother lived only about 20 minutes away and in a quieter part of town. Mila lived right across the street from a very large University; she certainly didn't want to encounter all of the half-educated masses swerving all over the road and running in the streets in a panicked race to get back to their campus dorms... or away from them.

Punching a button on her console, she shut off the drawling repetitive message still broadcasting through every radio frequency. "Well I don't have quite as many things at my mom's house as I'd like, but she has more of the essentials, so that'll be good for the both of us," she muttered as a few slow drops of rain hit the windshield.

In Florida, those few drops never stayed just a few drops.

A mere three minutes later, Mila was having difficulty seeing even ten feet in front of her. The slanted rainfall sloshed over every surface and drenched into every porous crevice it could find. Not only that, but because of the humidity combined with the air conditioning and the breathing of the car's occupants, Mila's field of vision was even more obscured as the glass fogged up. The easiest way to defog a windshield was to open the windows and let the temperatures equalize, but if she did that now, there'd be Lake Okeechobee in her lap.