Another week had passed since Logan had started his covert preparation for the worst.
His stockpile of supplies had grown, and Emma had reluctantly come to accept that their lives were about to change.
The tension in the air was palpable, as the world continued to spiral downward, despite the attempts to contain the infection.
Infected individuals were turning up in cities across the country, with violent outbreaks becoming more frequent.
That morning, as the sun rose over the small suburban neighborhood, Logan decided to take a day off work.
He needed a mental break, to process everything that had happened, and perhaps to gather himself before the storm broke for good.
Emma, as usual, got ready for work, heading out the door before Logan could say much beyond a half-hearted "I love you."
He wasn't sure what he expected to happen next, but his gut told him that things were quickly spiraling out of control.
With a cup of coffee in hand, Logan sat down on the couch and turned on the local news.
The screen flickered for a moment before the broadcast began.
The news anchor's face was tense as she reported the escalating infection rates.
Infected individuals were rapidly increasing in number, and hospitals were becoming overwhelmed.
The government had issued a National Security Warning, and the President had declared a national curfew to try to contain the outbreaks.
"Authorities are urging all citizens to remain inside during the hours of 8:00 PM to 6:00 AM. The CDC is warning that the infection is spreading faster than anticipated. National Guard troops are continuing to assist in major cities, but some reports suggest that even the military is struggling to maintain order. Infected individuals are increasingly becoming violent, attacking anyone within reach. Stay inside. Stay safe."
Logan's hand tightened around his coffee mug.
He was trying not to let his anxiety get the best of him, but he could feel it.
His mind wandered back to Mark's phone call earlier in the week, the conversation that had haunted him.
Mark, who had access to secure websites, had given him unsettling advice and he could hear his voice echoing in the back of his mind.
"Listen, Logan, if you come across anyone who's been bitten by an infected person just put them down. It'll be a mercy killing. I know it sounds brutal but trust me. If you hesitate, you're just asking for trouble."
Logan had been silent for a time after that call.
He didn't know if he was ready to take an innocent person's life, even if they were already lost.
Sure, he's killed people before, but they were enemy soldiers not innocent people, but Mark wasn't wrong.
The infection was savage, turning people into violent, mindless creatures.
It wasn't just about morals anymore, survival is about to be the law.
He was still thinking about Mark's words when the phone rang again, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He saw it was Mark calling.
Logan answered quickly.
"Hey."
"Logan," Mark said, his voice low and serious, "you still keeping your head on straight? We've got a lot to talk about."
"I'm good," Logan said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I've been staying low, watching the news. Things are getting worse out there."
"Yeah," Mark replied, his voice strained, "I've been keeping an eye on some of the secret channels I follow. More reports of... incidents. People losing control. The National Guard is stretched thin. You might want to think about getting out of Birmingham. It's only going to get worse."
Logan's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, listening to Mark.
"You got everything you need? Food, water, ammo, gear?" Mark continued.
"Yeah, I've been preparing," Logan replied. "But I'm not sure we're ready to leave yet."
Mark paused for a moment.
"I understand, but you really need to be looking to get out of the major cities. Population is too much and it's going to be very dangerous. But also, I need you to hear me out on this. I know I've done told you this but if you come across someone who's been bitten, and you're sure they're turning... Logan, you need to put them down. It's not a choice anymore. It's mercy."
Logan's stomach twisted at the words.
He wasn't sure he was ready to be that cold.
"I hear you, Mark. But... I don't know. They're not soldiers-"
"Don't overthink it, Logan," Mark cut in. "The infection spreads quickly. They'll be worse in hours. You hesitate, and let your guard down, they'll take down everyone you know, and you might be next. Trust me."
Logan sighed, rubbing his temples.
"I'll be careful, alright? And I'll stay in touch."
Just as he was about to say more, Logan heard a loud screech of tires outside, followed by a sickening crash.
His head whipped towards the window.
His heart pounded as he caught sight of a car wreck in the street—two vehicles had collided, one of them veering off the road and into a mailbox.
"Mark, I've got to go. Something's happened outside."
He hung up, grabbing his 9mm pistol and holstering it on his hip before rushing outside.
The wreck was worse than he initially thought.
Logan's heart raced as he stepped toward the wreckage in the street, his eyes scanning the scene.
The car's hood was crumpled, steam rising from the engine.
The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline hung in the air.
The first car had slammed into a mailbox, its front end twisted and mangled.
The second vehicle, a battered truck, was in worse shape.
The driver's side window was shattered, and the man inside was hunched forward, his hands clutching the steering wheel in a death grip.
Logan's instincts kicked in, and he approached cautiously.
The last thing he wanted was to get too close to an infected person.
His eyes darted to the man inside the truck.
His breathing was ragged, shallow.
Logan couldn't tell if the man was unconscious or just badly hurt.
"Hey!" Logan called out, hoping to make contact without getting too close. "Can you hear me?"
The man's head jerked up suddenly, his wild eyes locking onto Logan.
His lips pulled back into a grotesque snarl, and a guttural growl emanated from deep in his chest.
Logan froze, his eyes narrowing as the man's hands began to claw at the steering wheel, jerking in rapid, erratic movements.
Blood smeared across the dashboard, but the man didn't seem to notice it, he was completely consumed by whatever horrific change had taken place.
Before Logan could react, the driver's foot slammed down on the gas pedal in a frantic spasm, the truck lurching forward.
It wasn't just an injured man anymore, it was something worse.
Something twisted.
Something infected.
The truck's tires screeched as it lurched toward Logan.
His reflexes kicked in.
He dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the truck's grill as it scraped past him.
The infected driver let out another inhuman shriek, banging his fists on the steering wheel.
Logan scrambled to his feet, drawing his 9mm pistol with swift precision.
The man inside the truck began to move, pushing the door open with a horrifying, jerking motion.
The air was thick with tension as Logan quickly took cover behind a nearby streetlamp.
He knew the only way to handle this was to eliminate the threat before it could get any worse.
The infected man stumbled out of the truck, his body twisted, arms flailing as he dragged himself toward Logan.
His movements were erratic, unpredictable, every step was a violent lunge forward.
Logan's pulse quickened, but he remained calm.
He was a soldier, he had faced worse.
The man let out another shrill scream, reaching out as he staggered closer.
His ragged, uneven steps were followed by bloodshot eyes locked on Logan like prey.
Logan raised his pistol and aimed at the approaching figure.
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the man lunged, slamming into Logan's chest with terrifying force.
The impact knocked the wind out of Logan as he stumbled backward, crashing into the cold pavement.
His gun flew from his hand, skidding several feet away.
His heart pounded as he quickly regained his bearings.
The infected driver was on top of him now, snapping his jaws like a rabid animal, saliva dripping from his mouth.
Logan shoved the man off him, using his legs to push him away.
The creature hissed, trying to claw at him with its filthy hands.
Logan's breath came in ragged gasps, his adrenaline coursing through him as he scrambled to his feet.
He spotted his pistol a few feet away, but the infected was already closing the distance again.
Logan turned to run to grab his pistol, but the infected slammed into his back knocking him down.
Logan turns on his back to face his attacker and the infected screeches into the air and dives on top of him.
Logan kicks the infected, but it only slows it down.
He's fighting crawling backwards towards his pistol.
The infected tries to bite Logan, but he punches it with all of his might, and it stuns the creature.
It gives Logan enough time to kick it off him and he scrambles backwards to his pistol.
He feels the infected grab his leg and he looks to see it snarling at him as it pulls itself towards him.
Logan stretches out for his gun and barley brushes it.
The infected's hands grabbed Logan's shirt, pulling him toward its gnashing teeth.
Logan gritted his teeth, struggling against the creature's grip.
His fingers finally grip onto the pistol's holt, and Logan manages to work it into his hand.
He brings it up in a swift motion to the creatures head and doesn't hesitate.
Two shots rang out in rapid succession.
The man's body jerked violently before crumpling on top of Logan, lifeless.
The echo of the gunfire hung in the air, the weight of the moment settling in.
Logan then rolls the dead body off him and stands to his feet.
He can still feel his heartbeat in his ears from the adrenaline coursing through his body.
He finds a small crowd starting to gather around the area as some begin pointing towards him.
Logan doesn't have time to think about what just happened, because his eyes settle on the other vehicle in the wreck, a small sedan.
Logan quickly holsters his gun and sprints towards the car and starts to tug on the door.
"Hey!"
Logan turned to see a neighbor, Rob, sprinting toward him.
Rob was a former paramedic who had lived in the neighborhood for years.
His face was pale, but there was determination in his eyes as he came closer.
"I'm here to help."
Logan gave a quick nod.
"I think her leg's pinned under the steering wheel," he says as he quickly peeks into the car to check on the woman.
Rob doesn't hesitate and he helps Logan tug the driver side door open and he assesses the woman's condition.
"Help me," she whimpers.
Together, they helped the woman from the car, supporting her weight as she winced in pain, unable to stand on her own.
"We've got to get her somewhere safe," Logan muttered.
The sound of distant sirens was growing louder, but they were still too far away to offer help anytime soon.
Logan's gaze shifted nervously to the street, knowing the danger wasn't over.
As they began to move the woman toward a safer location, the faint sound of a blast in the distance caught Logan's attention.
It was muffled at first, then growing louder.
And then, the ground trembled beneath their feet.
A sudden loud explosion rocked the neighborhood, sending a shockwave that rattled the windows and shook the pavement.
Logan turned his head toward Birmingham, his stomach sinking as he saw a mushroom cloud rising from the city center.
The explosion was massive.
He realized that something far worse was happening and he then realized that what Mark had been talking about and what he had been seeing on the news was here.
A scream cut through the air, followed by the sounds of more chaos erupting around him.
Logan's pulse quickened.
The infected had already started to spread.
"Take her to your house," Logan ordered Rob, who had been looking toward the explosion in horror, "Don't go outside unless for the ambulance."
Rob nodded quickly, but Logan didn't wait.
He bolted for his home, the sense of urgency coursing through him.
Logan grabs his phone and taps on Emma's name and calls her.
The phone rings and rings and then is forwarded to voicemail.
He tries again four more times and still just voicemail.
Logan growls in frustration and then runs to the kitchen and finds the clinic's number on the refrigerator.
Emma had left it there for him if he ever needed it.
He quickly dials the number.
No answer.
He tries again.
Same thing, no answer.
Panic and frustration builds in Logan, and he slams his fist down on the counter.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
He pockets his phone and looks up to see Ghost staring at him.
It's almost like Ghost was asking, "Well, are we going to go get her?"
"Yes we are! Let's gear up Ghost."
Ghost gives a light woof in response and runs after Logan to the garage.
Logan grabs his tactical plate vest and straps it on.
He grabs AR magazines and fills the magazine pouches he has attached to the vest.
He grabs his Spec Ops ECH that he had bought when he went on deployment in Syria.
Logan then grabs his tactical backpack and puts a few more AR magazines into it, a couple bottles of water, some protein bars, and a can of dog food for Ghost.
"Come here boy," Logan orders.
Ghost draws close to Logan as he straps on Ghost's dog armor.
Logan had kept this whenever he had retired out of the Army, and they retired Ghost with him.
Once he finished strapping the armor on Ghost, Logan gives the armor a slight slap to signal Ghost that he's strapped up.
Ghost is seen walking around, seeming to remember what it was like wearing armor again.
Logan lastly grabs his tactical gloves and his AR-15.
He grabs a loose magazine and loads it into the rifle.
With his rifle in one hand and his ECH in the other, Logan sprints out of the house and to his truck.
He whistles to Ghost to jump in as he opens the back door, and Logan opens the driver door and throws his ECH and backpack into the passenger seat and set his rifle positioned in the floorboard and on the seat.
Logan cranks the truck up and puts it into reverse and stomps the gas pedal.
He rockets into the street and then he puts the truck into drive and rockets down the road towards the clinic.
"Emma. I'm coming."