213

"Wow, I'm not used to you being so optimistic, knowing you like I do," Jaime says.

"Where are you now?" you ask.

Static flares up on the channel but disappears. "Can you hear me, Victor Zombie? Okay. I left my apartment. It wasn't safe. I'm right outside the city, not far from where you live. Once I find a safe place, I'll contact you. You can join me there."

"You're assuming the worst, then?"

Jaime sighs. "I'm preparing for the worst. The government is going to try to quarantine everyone and stop travel. They'll try to stop the spread of the virus, but they'll fail. This disease is moving too fast. Civilization will break down in the next few days. With the lack of food, medicine, and stuff people need, they'll loot and rob and do whatever to survive. I'm hitting the ground now and setting up before that all goes down."

Jaime often plays the role of conspiracy theorist, but this theory gives you something to seriously consider.

"Make sure the house is secured, locked, and boarded up," he says.

"Did that. The doors and windows are barred shut," you say.

"Gather all your supplies, too. You might lose electricity and water soon, so charge your phone and collect any batteries. Fill your bathtubs and sinks with water now."

"I have a well, so water is no problem. And I will go through the house and collect everything I can find," you say.

"With the infected, always go for the head. Shoot it, stab it, whatever you can to destroy the brain. They're already dead, so feel no remo—"

Through the CB, you hear a siren zoom by, and Jaime's side cuts off.

"Jaime! Jaime!" you yell. The channel fills with static. You call for Jaime over and over again for several minutes, with no reply. You scan other radio channels but find no trace of Jaime. After thirty minutes, you shut off the CB and consider your next move.