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Outbreak part 2:

Mutiny

It has been one month since I ended up in the Southern Grid. Nothing much has changed. The people come when they please. They also go when they please. Some furs fight back the shuffling infected that plague the once prominent America while others sit back on the sidelines, watching the infected slowly take away everything they once saw bright in life.

I don't know what I am yet. Even though I have been devising a plan of my own, of what I want to see in the future of this once bright city of Chicago, I still don't know where I belong in all of what is happening. My emotions, being played like a puppet on a string, are held back like a surging wall of water about to burst through a corroding dam. It is almost time for me to snap. I can feel my mental state wearing away little by little.

I don't know how long I will live much longer. The most "natural" deaths right now are to be shot, eaten, or starve. All three don't sound very pleasant. Some people take the less natural way out, and just aim a gun at their head, pull the trigger, and let themselves rot. Terrible yet so true.

Now it is my time to leave. I packed in the morning before anyone was awake to realize what was going on. I slipped out in the dead of the midmorning, feeling the cool air across my face as I ran away from the Southern Grid with only a backpack around my shoulder. I had a picture tucked away in my back right pocket, the only memories I wished to keep stashed away to be only seen by my eyes.

I was nearly to the end of the large gate that cut off the rest of civilization from the safe zone of the Grid. To my horror, there was someone guarding it. He was a German shepherd. He wore a black bandanna on the top of his head, dressed in a bullet proof jacket that covered his torso. Around his legs, midnight black cargo shorts that could hold magazines for the M16 he was holding. He was smoking a cigar, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before taking a breath outward. The smoke escaped his mouth which made him smile at the sensation.

"Nothing like a good smoke eh?" He said, directing his words over to a pile of rubble that I was hiding behind. I had no idea the Roses kept guard over the gates at night. The Roses were one of the many gangs that control territory on the Southern Grid. They keep something called "Tabs" on the civilians that live in the Grid. Tabs are a form of paying back the gang that controlled the territory. Tabs can be anything from having to join the gang to doing jobs when they required your needs. If you were called for a Tab, there is nothing you can do to go against them. If you do refuse to do a Tab, you could have your resources taken away. But that is just the minimal amount of what they can do.

I heard stories, evil stories that you only hear in the darkest of alleys. One man didn't pay his Tabs once when one gang requested for the execution of a traitor to their organization. The fur refused to play their game. Instead of hunting for what they wanted, he became the hunted. Another fur, one of the top Tab hunters of all time named Gruff, was told to make the fur change his mind on his Tab. A Tab hunter's job was simple. If a fur refused to pay his Tab, he would be sought out to be dealt with. The gang that gave the poor bastards Tab believed in an eye for an eye. Gruff's orders were to execute the fur who didn't want to pay his Tab.

A body was found the next day.

I knew that this German shepherd was part of the Roses because of his distinctive tattoo of the beautiful plant on his right arm. It glowed in the moonlight like it was a beacon to stay away like the red rose saying stay away, or else you will get cut. I think I was about to get more then cut.

"Come out, come out. I know you are back there. I can SMELL you." He said with a sinister glare in my direction. As I peeked out, I could see his yellow eyes darting back, and forth. His nose twitched as he focused on my smell. I smelled like smoke and my species.

Deer.

Smoke because the only way anyone keeps warm anymore during the fall is to huddle around bonfires. Crudely made, the average bonfire only lasts about one hour before dwindling into ashes. It was my mistake to be sitting around one late last evening in the first place.

All of a sudden, I started to hear the sound of shoes on rubble. It sounded faint at first, but it started to get closer and closer until finally I was looking up into the face of the German shepherd himself. He was taller than me by far. His body was massive, towering over me like I was some small ant on an ant hill. I even felt like an ant too.

He wore a sinister smirk as he held his rifle, and he spat out his cigar when he saw me. He leaned in close, close enough for me to feel his hot breath on my nose. The smoke stung my eyes, making me blink as this gang member loomed over me. His tattoo shimmered brightly like water in the sunlight, blinking like tiny fireflies on a summer day.

Giving me a look that told me he wasn't going to be gentle, he grabbed my antler, dragging me out to where he can get a better visual of me. He wasn't impressed with my cargo pants, simple tee shirt, and pockets stuffed with edible items, forcing a huff through his smirk he was wearing proudly since he found a catch.

"So, Bambi, you were trying to sneak out? I don't know if my boss 'ill let you do that. There is a fine for trying to sneak out..."

I didn't say anything, holding my tongue with my teeth so I wouldn't speak. He put a hand on my shoulder like I was his best friend, squeezing tightly so I wouldn't be able to escape. I didn't want to escape in the first place. If I tried running, the first thing the trigger happy fur would do would aim and pull the trigger so I waited for his verdict.

"How about a Tab?" He said simply.

Knowing he was making up the fine, I was about to say something, but the words didn't come. It would be pointless to argue with someone of a higher authority, especially if he held a weapon capable of rendering silence with one bullet.

So I just nodded. I had to if I wanted to live for a while longer.

"Good Bambi. How about you do me a favor and find..."

That's when I struck, pushing his arm that was on my shoulder away, and to my surprise, he was so shocked that I had enough time to push the rifle he was holding in one hand into his muzzle. There was a sound of metal hitting his right cheek as the M16 made contact with his face. He held his cheek, growling in pain as I bolted away to pull the lever that would unlock the door outward to the outskirts of Chicago.

I looked behind me to see the shepherd regain his composer, aiming his rifle for my head. "That was a mistake!" He shouted and pulled the trigger. I heard the bullets fly by my head, close enough to cut fur off the top, but low enough to draw blood. I winced, grabbed the handle, and gave it a brute pull which caused a light by the door to come on. It was a bright green light, like the green light at a four way intersection telling you to go.

Running towards the door, I heard the sound of metal colliding with metal, the jacket of the bullet piercing the ground beneath where I was standing. Dirt flew up over my body, giving a light brown tint to the shirt I was wearing.

I heard the dog swear, harsh words that stung my ears when they came from his lips. I knew he had to be running out of ammo but I didn't know how long. As I tugged on the door, a white hot pain shot through my right leg. I glanced down to see a red mark moving slowly across the bottom half of my ankle. Burning pain coursed through my leg like hot lava. My mind started to flash through memories of my previous life. Am I going to die now?

The gang member strolled up to me, watching me with a look of pure disgust. I felt my hand starting to grow numb on the door handle as blood spread across my right pants leg. I looked at his eyes, seeing no remorsefulness within the orange pupils that starred down into my lighter brown ones. He didn't care what I thought at the moment. He only cared if he survived.

"So how about that tab now?" He asked spitefully as he looked down at me.

"Fuck you." I said as I let go of the door handle. I leaned my back against the door, waiting for what would happen.

"Cute." He said as he aimed the gun barrel at my head.

As I watched the barrel aim up to my head right in between my eyes, I decided I wouldn't watch the next part. Wherever I was going to be taken next, I knew it would be out of Chicago. "You should have just listened, Bambi. Now you're just going to be a example of what the Roses do to idiots who don't obey us."

He pulled the trigger.

______________________________________________________________________________

"Kyle. Hey Kyle, wake up damn it!"

I rolled over in my bed, not wanting to get up. I felt the blanket pulled out from my body, flung across the floor like it was not serving any purpose. Blinking twice before being forced out of bed by a random intruder, I knew that whatever the doberman had to say, it was serious.

"Robert, what is it?" I grumbled as I strode over to my dresser. I was in a rush, my legs moving in ungraceful strides as I quickly put on a tee shirt, pair of shorts, and tennis shoes knowing fully I was going to have to be mobile. Whenever I was on duty around the town, I always wore light gear so I could run faster to the first sign of trouble. Not like there was any though besides the occasional infected. I got used to the usual infected stumbling into town through a hole in the walls that surround Grid Two.

A person can see a lot in a month.

"Another gang left a message for us." He said. I gave him a look, pointing to my hand, the sign for Death's Hand. The members of Death's Hand have a tattoo of a serpent circling a sword. They are known for public displays.

But Robert shook his head. "The Roses were responsible for this one."

I burst out laugh at that comment. "What do you mean? The Roses are never around here. Death's Hand hates them."

Robert just gave a sigh at the comment. "They made a truce yesterday. The Roses got control of the gates outward while Death's Hand still got to control almost all of Grid Two, and the trading enterprises."

This came as a shock to me. Two of the most rivaled gangs making a truce? Something was wrong, but I couldn't put my claw on it. "So what happened last night?"

"Come see for yourself."

Robert motioned his hand for me to follow. I nodded, not having much choice since my job around Grid Two was guard duty with Robert's squad which included cleaning up bodies, patrolling the grounds, and keeping watch on the infected population around Chicago by posting ourselves on guard towers. It wasn't an easy job, but it was better than most jobs. It was how I kept my Tabs off that I had to pay gangs as well.

Following Robert out of my room, I closed the door to my small apartment room. When Robert took care of me after I was shot, he gave me room 202 on an apartment building. It was on the second floor, high enough for me to see what Chicago had become thanks to the window that was close to my bed. The tall skyscrapers peering back at me like ever watchful guardians in the night sky, the bright stars, and the candle by my bedside always made me feel at peace.

I was never Catholic. I never prayed to God until the first day I slept in the room. I just prayed, saying words that came to my mind. Hell, if there is a God out there, maybe he can find my sister and my parents.

I really hope there is a fucking God out there.

Leading me down the narrow stairs, our footsteps echoed on the floor beneath our feet as we walked down. The paint on the walls had graffiti written on them while the walls had bullets lodged on their foundation. If desperate enough, some furs would pry the bullets out with a pen, or thin enough object to pull the bullet out of the wall, and sell them to marketers so they could be melted down. The bullets would then be made into something new.

When we got to the first floor, we headed down a narrow hallway that had many other rooms with people holed up in them. Some peaked out the door, curious at the sound of footsteps while others locked their doors which could be heard when a metallic click signified they didn't wish to be disturbed by anyone. Many who bought the homes acquired them by making an IOU with the warden of the apartments. At least the apartments weren't ruled by gangs.

When we walked up to the door to open it, a fox grasped my leg firmly, hell bent on not letting go. "Food...I need food." He said in a raspy, weak voice that sounded like it took effort just to leave his mouth.

He smelled of rotten eggs, his clothes wet from the previous rain the night before. He must have been kicked out of the apartment because of the racket he was creating. Poor bastard. I looked into his midnight blue eyes, the same eyes as my sister, with a look of remorsefulness. I reached into my pocket, pulled out an old receipt that is used as marks for Tabs, and handed it to the man.

"Buy yourself something nice before I change my mind." I mumbled before quickly turning away from him. His body shot up like he was fired from the barrel of a sniper rifle, and ran outside cheering. Robert just stared at me, fixated on why the hell I did such a task for a stranger. He never said words, but I could tell from his expression that he was confused.

"He reminded me of my sister."

Robert nodded, and we continued on. The silence as we walked was only broken when Robert put his hand up to the bright rays of sunlight that spilled into his eyes when he opened the door to the outside world.

"Holy crap! It's so bright out!" He said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn't biting.

His smirk quickly disappeared into his more natural doberman frown. He eyed me up, expecting me to smile, but I was too deep in thought about the fox's resemblance to my sister. "How could his eyes trigger such a deep memory?" I thought to myself. Then he asked a couple of questions which through me out of my comfort zone of my mind as we walked down to where a group of furs were surrounding a certain area.

"Were you close to your sister?" Robert asked in a serious tone. I didn't know what to say. I was more speechless then anything. He was the only fur that gave a damn the whole time I was on the wasteland called Grid Two to even ask about my family. I replied with a simple, "Yes." Short and sweet, didn't need any extra dramatic input. It was just a simple yes. But then he asked more questions.

"How close?" He asked. I grinned at the comment which got a laugh out of my reaction to his question, and said, "Finally! About time we had a smile."

"Close enough that when we were smaller, we would back each other up in fights if we had to. Ironically, I was the one being beat up. My sister was more of the tomboy that would back me up." I blurted out. "SHIT! I don't want to get too attached to this man. I am in this alone, I am in this alone, I am in this alone..." I thought as I bit my tongue in anger that I spilled out info about myself.

"Let's talk about something else!" I said abruptly before the curious doberman could ask any more questions. He knew he couldn't get any more out of me, so he just shrugged, and continued with another subject. He decided he wanted to talk about my own life.

"You do realize that I saved your life right? That whole month you said about a handful of words to me. I think you at least have to talk to me about your life once. Just once. I won't judge." He stopped dead in his tracks, starring straight into my face. I stopped as well, locked in a gaze with his own face. His muzzle showed his age, at least in his forties while his rugged appearance spoke of wisdom and understanding.

He pushed his glasses to his eyes once more. He was analyzing me. "I wish I could tell you everything." I mumbled to myself before turning away. I heard the movement of air behind me like a gust flew up on the right side of my ear. I felt a hand grip my shoulder, the claws retracted so they wouldn't dig into my flesh.

"You can."

I brushed his paw off my shoulder, gave him a look that said "That's enough." He bit his tongue to make sure he didn't say anything else. It wasn't that he was afraid of me; it was that he wanted to show respect. If I didn't want to talk about what happened, I didn't want to talk about what happened. He respected that, and didn't pry any further.

We both walked into the group surrounding the body, pushing some out of the way. We told them we were with "cleanup." These furs get damned with finding bodies left around town, disposing them properly which usually consisted of throwing them out of our little town, and into the outskirts where they would biodegrade.

Sometimes if they didn't feel like throwing the bodies in the outskirts, the cleanup crew would just burn them if they have gasoline to spare. Many furs that are a part of the group have handkerchiefs across their face to block out the terrible smell of decaying flesh.

When I finally got to the body, I looked down into the brown eyes of the deer; any show of life dead like his body froze up. A bullet hole was present in the middle of his head, making me shiver just looking at the opening. I leaned over his head, my leg pressed on the ground in more of a kneeling position. I closed his eyes, motioning for Robert to hand me a towel. Robert asked if he could borrow one from a nearby wolf who nodded, and respectfully handed him a glistening white towel that glowed like the morning sun.

Robert handed me the towel, putting a paw on my shoulder like he did before, but this one was softer, and a more remorseful pat. I reached out for the towel, grabbed it, and covered his head. I saw many parents that were covering the eyes of their children finally recede from doing so. The curious children only saw the body lying limp with a towel over its head, not getting the full view of what their innocent eyes could have seen.

At that very moment of covering the deer's face, I realized how young and vibrant his eyes were as an image flashed back into my mind of his face. So little age. Maybe a teenager. I didn't want to think about it. The thought of a young life being taken sickened me. Robert could tell, eyeing my facial expression with concern.

As I eyed the body before walking away, I smelled this overwhelming presence. It smelled of fake perfume, incense almost. The smell was intoxicating as it made my body tense almost just to figure out where the beautiful scent was coming from.

I realized it was the deer's hand, a rose stuck in the palm. His hands gripped the stem tightly like it was the last thing he was holding. The red petals glistened like blood while making the distinctive shape that every florist craves over. The symbol of love, romance, and celebrative times was now being held in the hand of a body, and turned into a symbol of death.

Ironic that it is also the Rose's main symbol.

How creative.

I gave Robert a glance, telling him to get the civilians out of here. He nodded, and shouted, "Alright people, the show is over. Leave and go on to what you were doing before this."

The crowd was silent, only standing where they were frozen in time. "Now would be nice!" He yelled even louder, baring his fangs to look intimidating. They got the message that time. The crowd parted, going on their separate ways, wondering what the world was coming to with all the murder and violence. I didn't pay any attention to their mumblings. My mind was too focused on the rose clutched in the dead deer's hand.

Contrasting with the black road he laid on, the rose took all of my attention. I grasped the deer's hand, starting to pry away the rose from his grip. Eventually, I finally pulled the rose free. I held the rose quietly, looking at every detail. I noticed something was tied to the bottom part of the stem.

The note hung freely from the stem. Blowing in the wind roughly, it made a soft sound as it hit against my paw. I unlatched the note from the string it was tied to, opening it to read what it contained. The handwriting was small so it could fit on the paper so I had to squint just to read the print.

It read in black letters,

"Sorry about Bambi. Please clean up the pavement. I am sure it will look bad if he gets too much attention. Oh, and let's not forget about paying our Tabs on time."

With love,

Brick.

I scowled at the note, and let the note go. It floated away on the wind, a message only read by my own eyes. Looking back down at the body, I realized the deer was not alive anymore, and needed to be disposed of. Robert mentioned that we just carry him to the incinerator. I agreed.

The incinerator was for crimination of anyone who was killed inside the walls of our little outpost. The body would be dragged, or carried depending on how well he or she was liked, and burnt into ashes where they would be put in pots. Any known loved ones were allowed to take the pot, and scatter the ashes on how they saw fit. If there were no known loved ones, the cleaners would discard the ashes where they thought the person would want to be.

Robert and I carried the body from the main gate outward to the incinerator, but on our way I had a strange feeling someone was watching me. I never realized I should have looked up. I was being watched.

The glint of a scope could be seen from one of the two watch towers on the sides of the main gate. A grinning German shepherd was watching us closely. He was looking through the scope of a gun, but using just a scope as binoculars. From a distance, I could lip read what he was saying,

"Serves him right..."

I cringed at the three words that came from his mouth, the unremorseful words that snaked their way across his lips. It stung my eyes just to see him mouth those words. I decided to shake away the comment, and just focused on how I will survive today.

Robert nudged open a double door with his shoulder, allowing me enough room to carry the body inward. I looked back to see the glint of the scope still traced on us, and disappear as the door closed.

The room we were in was wide, and only one man stood watch. He was part of Death's Hand. He wore a midnight black jacket with long black pants. His hood was over his head, obstructing the view of his face. When we walked in front of him, he held out his hand to stop us. I snake was coiled around his arm, the sword in the middle of his palm. The variation in his tattoo told me he just recently joined. The ones with the snake on the palm wrapping around the sword were veterans. The tattoo was removable so when the new guy moved up the ranks, the snake could be drawn closer and closer until finally the snake wraps around the sword on their palm which signifies a grand leader.

Flashing his ID card, Robert held the body up by one arm, and pulled his ID out of his pocket. The gang member checked it quietly, his eyes scanning over for any faults. He gave the thumbs up sign, and turned on the incinerator. Roaring to life instantly, the incinerator sounded like a jet plane revving its engine. I wanted to cover my ears, but couldn't since my hands were preoccupied with holding the body up.

We walked to the end that accepted the body, and lifted it up and in. Flames stung my face, heating my skin under my fur. I covered my nose with my shirt since the scent of burning was overwhelming. Robert put a hand on the gang member's shoulder, and said, "Can you deal with the ashes?"

The hooded figure nodded. Robert was pleased with his response since not all gangs' compromise. "Thank you." Robert said.

Robert and I walked out, content that we cleaned up the mess. Putting a paw on my shoulder, Robert said, "How about you take the day off? You look like you need to loosen up."

I pushed his paw off, "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. Besides, I have something that needs taken care of."

I walked away, not looking back to see his reaction. I didn't care that he saved my life at that moment, and he wanted answers, I just wanted to find answers about my own life. I heard of an information broker who was willing to give information out for a price, and I wanted to check him out. Any lead towards where my family may be is a good one.

After walking down many open alleyways, I finally found the building I was looking for. Guarded by two nasty looking guards, the building was oval shaped like what you see in the 60s or 50s. Above the door in pink letters read, "Bar" but the "a" was tilting bellow the rest, flickering like a faulty beacon.

When my footsteps started to move towards the building, the guards each took one look at my 18 year old body, and grinned. They were like bouncers. Anyone who was unwelcomed needed to buzz off or they would deal with the imposter appropriately. They were big enough for the job too, and bulky enough. They were at least three times as big as I was. A fight would defiantly want to be avoided at all cost.

"What's a small fry like you doing all the way up here?" The dog on the left said in a rumbling voice that shook my core. He was a doberman like Robert, but I knew this guy didn't care if he had to do a bit of bruising to get his way. Like his friend on the right, he wore army pants that were checkered with autumn colors, and instead of wearing a provocative tee shirt, the doberman wore a bullet proof vest that had "S.W.A.T" written across it in fading letters.

"I came for some information."

They both looked at each other, laughing. This time it was the husky that would talk, his curly tail behind him wagging at what could happen next. "Information? You hardly 15-"

"I am 18," I interrupted, "And I wish to see your boss." I tried to sound like it was urgent, but the guards didn't budge. "Ya, and I would like my Tabs paid off, but we can't have everything. Run back to your mom kid. You're too young to be here anyway. Piss off."

"That's exactly why I came here. I need information on my parents." I said. I couldn't hold back my irritation much longer. I could feel my teeth grinding together in anger as I boiled like a kettle on a stove.

"How do I know you aren't lying?" The husky said as he leaned in close to my face. The way he leaned in, and how his voice sounded seemed to hit a nerve at that moment. I glared at him, and said, "Do you see my family ANYWHERE?" I said as I started to gradually get louder which attracted some resident's attention. "This is my only lead so I suggest you get the FUCK out of my WAY!" I said, and accidently put emphasis on "W" in way, spitting all over the husky's face which may have been a mistake.

"Fourth graders aren't supposed to have such a potty mouth." The doberman said as he leaned his face closer to mine as well, mocking the choice of colorful language I decided to spew out. "You have a lot of balls coming here, boy, but I suggest you find a different time to visit the boss. He is a busy man so again, PISS OFF!" This time it was the doberman who spit all over my face.

"Who the hell is making loud racket? Can't a 'roo drink in peace?" A voice from the open door behind the guards said.

Standing at the open door was a kangaroo about as tall as the doorway. He wore a tropical shirt that had a red background with white flowers decorating it. He also wore swimming trunks that were ripped in some areas due to claw marks which were most likely caused by infected. He had to lean down just to fit his body out the door, and his brown fur told me he was about in his thirties. The lighter the coat on the kangaroo, the younger he is. At least, that's what I thought...

"I am a twenty three year old who wants some peace and quiet! Why are you dumbasses so loud!? Plus you're ravaging on a potential costumer! Please, come in, come in! Ignore these idiots..."

The kangaroo blabbered on and on about how he was the only mature one here even though he was only twenty three, and that it was his way or the highway, AND that he just wanted to be alone with alcohol for a while. It was almost like a broken record in animal form. Even when he took me under his arm to lead me into his business area, he still scolded the guards.

No matter how many "sorry boss" the guards said, they still couldn't quench the wrath of the kangaroo until finally he finished his rant with, "Now go back to guarding! I don't want to hear another word out of you two until I am finished with my customer otherwise I will turn you into steaks because you guys seem to be all BEEF and no BRAINS!"

The kangaroo dragged me into his bar by my arm, and when I glanced back at the guards, they were giving me the nastiest of all looks. The doberman put his hand up to his throat, and moved it across. I was just happy I finally got my way. I felt a smile cross my face.

"Sit down, you."

He pulled up a bar stool to the bar, motioning me to sit down upon it. I got up on the stool, sat down, and scanned my surroundings. The bar was very low light with the only light coming it was through the windows scattered around. I noticed that by the door I was dragged through, the two guards that harassed me were talking to each other once more, probably complaining about me.

The kangaroo walked to the other side of the bar, pulled the cork off a bottle of whiskey with a distinctive pop, and grabbed two cups. "Whiskey?" He said while holding the bottle over my cup. I shook my head.

"More for me then."

He poured himself a cup of the orange looking alcoholic beverage, took a swig, and placed the glass down. "Well, may I get your name?"

"Kyle, Kyle Robbins."

"Well Kyle, pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand outward for a shake which I accepted with some hesitation. "The name is Benjamin Hop, and that was one of the most stupidest, but bravest things I ever saw."

I was surprised at what he said, but then remembered there was a window right by the door into the bar. "W-wait, you saw what happened ou-?"

"Of course. You and the guards were making such noise that I had to take a look see at what the hell was happening. Rick was right. You do have a pair of balls."

I didn't know if I should have taken that as a compliment. I waited patiently for what he had to say next. I didn't even think this would even happen. The moment happened so fast that when he took a deep swig of his alcohol, and asked about what I needed to find out.

I looked at him in the eyes, and explained my story. I told him I was caught off guard on day one when my family went to the Empire State Building, leaving me behind at home because I saw the landmark so many times. I just got bored of it. That was my mistake. Now I want to find my family again, and the only way is to get information and supplies so I can go there myself.

"Ahh. That is some damn story. So what kind of information do you require?" He asked as he eyed me curiously. I realized that if I wanted to go anywhere, I needed to know the most detailed parts of Chicago. "I need a map and compass."

He lifted an eyebrow. "No offense, but I get many sad stories that come through here. What makes yours any different, and this is business so what are you going to do for me?"

I thought hard about what I would offer to Benjamin, thinking carefully on what to give him. I clicked my tongue when I figured out what. "How about I do a Tab that you need paid off? You walk away with a clean slate, and I get the map and compass?" I decided I would just settle for the map and compass. I can negotiate supplies elsewhere.

"Hmmmm." He pondered. "How do I know you won't screw me over?" He said while eyeing me suspiciously. At that moment, I felt my ear twitch. I could hear someone yelling at the guards outside that there was an infected breach. I saw the guard's eyes go wide, and then he ran up the stairs, and yelled, "Boss! We have a major problem!"

The doberman named Rick ran up to Benjamin, whispered in his ear what was going on, and it looked almost like his face went white. "They will kill all our customers, and possibly us!" Ben shouted out loud. Rick ran out the door again, and aimed his rifle at a target that could not be seen. He fired, the sound echoing through the room Ben and I were in.

"How about this kid...you act as one of my backup body guards, and I will give you all my damn compasses and maps I can get my hands on. Do we have a deal?" He said quickly before extending a hand to tie me into the deal. I took his hand in a shake.

"Deal. I need a weapon. Hurry!" I yelled as an infected rat took one look at me, and hissed. Benjamin got the message, shuffled through a desk in the bar for a weapon, and found a pistol. He slid the fully loaded magnum over to me like a bartender would slide a shot glass to a waiting drinker.

The rat stumbled as he got the doorway, his bloodshot eyes starring soullessly into mine as he crawled towards me. His claws made a terrible sound on the hardwood floor as he crawled, making me cringe. I fired from the hip, pulling down the mechanism in the back to load a bullet into the chamber. I hit his shoulder.

"What kind of body guard did I make a deal with?!" Benjamin shouted as he watched the rat just stop with the force of the bullet, but then kept on crawling. "Aim AND THEN fire!"

This time I took in a breath, waited for the rat to get his head in between the iron sites, and pulled the trigger. The bullet screamed from the gun, colliding with a clean hit between the eyes. The body fell limp. The person was dead for sure.

"You go outside. I will lock up the bar." Ben said as I made a break for door. "Keep the gun. Consider this your first job!"

I nodded, and ran outside to be met with the sound of weapons being discharged. Furs that were unarmed ran in terror from the infected that limped towards them. One male fox wasn't so lucky when he was tackled, and bit. He yelled in pain as the teeth bit into his shoulder. He let out a howl at the pain, but it ended quickly when Rick fired at the infected that pinned down the poor bastard.

Rick ran over, and helped the man up. The fox held his shoulder, a red liquid falling out of it onto the ground like a crimson rain. "I-I don't think I can-"The fox was referring to how long he had until he turned. He had about an hour.

"I know. Hold still. I will make it quick."

Rick then aimed the rifle at the fox's head. The man closed his eyes, waiting for his life to end. It did in about 3 seconds. I ran over to the husky bodyguard nearby, and yelled, "Where the hell did these guys come from?"

"I don't know! All of a sudden they showed up! I heard shouts coming from the gate into Grid 2. We should check it out." The husky said as he had to dodge a zombie that reached out for him. He turned his rifle around, and hit the infected fur across the head. It fell limp, unmoving.

We ran across the alleys that I tore through before, seeing infected shuffle by, and reach out for me. "Where the hell did they come from?"

The question kept piercing my mind like a knife trying to cut skin. I pushed an infected fur out of the way, his back slamming against a wall. He slid down, making attempts to get up. A nearby civilian kicked him in the face, making him lay on the floor. He tried to shuffle back up, and reached out for the civilian to put him in an iron grasp. Yelling, the female Golden Retriever aimed the pistol she pulled out of her pocket, aimed, and fired. The bullet ripped through the tender flesh of the infected fur. A crimson paint flashed in our vision before fading.

I had to keep running. Before we both knew it, the husky was in awe at what stood before him. People were fighting for their life. Some grabbed weapons to fight the onslaught while others ran into the nearest dark spot to avoid a fight for their life. Others high tailed it out of the area. There weren't too many infected. About thirty shuffling around, looking for their next victim.

One limping zombie found his target. Grabbing the wolf by the scruff of his neck, the disease stricken infected bit into his shoulder. The wolf howled before he was pulled to the ground. The only thing moving was his mouth as he yelled, and flailed.

What was strange was the door to the gate was closed. I noticed something yellow catching my vision as well. I lost myself, running full on into the crowd of infected. They lunged for me, expecting to grasp my clothes. They attached themselves to nothing, luckily.

In front of my vision, an infected shuffled into my path. I quickly dispatched him before continuing my run. I rolled, grabbing the note by the door. It read,

"For my brethren, and for my brother."

It was unsigned, and I noticed blood on the lever to open the door to the outside. I walked over to see a body of a dead deer. This one was different though. He had brown eyes with midnight black hair. A bullet hole was visible in his head, and a gun visible in his hand.

To his right, another body laid against the cold metal of the guard tower wall. A red streak of blood snaked down his forehead. He was also dead, shot in the forehead. The German Sheppard held a note in his hand that simply read, "I'm sorry" in dark black letters.

The gun that the deer clutched explained what happened. The deer was the other dead deer's brother, and he just wanted a bit of revenge, but who the hell opened the door to the outside world. Who the hell closed it after they opened it too?

A donkey shuffled up to me, his arms outstretched. My face went wide in fear. I ducked beneath his arms, put the pistol beneath his stomach, and fired the bullet into his abdomen. The infected stumbled backwards which gave me enough time to kick it down. I proceeded to put a bullet in his head but...

"No! Don't shoot him! He is tame! He is tame!" One fur screamed. His brown fur glistened as he ran towards me, and jumped on the bleeding infected. The goat flailed as his neck was wrapped in a death grip. "NO!" I shouted. "He is not the same as us anymore!"

"What are you do-?"

He didn't have enough time to grasp his words before teeth sliced into his neck. He let out a shrill scream as he felt the teeth sink into his skin. "WHY! You are me? Why do you want to..."

I had to put a bullet in both their heads. Insanity.

Nobody is tame anymore.