Day 1
Chapter 1
Adam opened his eyes. He had heard a loud crash. He looked around the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary. He rubbed the top of his head a few times, yawned, and sat up. He placed his feet onto the hardwood floor.
Maybe it was just a drea
m
, he figured.
He stretched, rubbed his head again.
Sunlight shone through the window. It looked like it was a beautiful day outside. A part of Adam was angry that he had allowed himself to fall asleep. He didn't like sleeping through the day; especially when it was so nice out. But it had been one of his days off of work and he really hadn't had anything else to do. Plus, he had spent most of the night awake, writing.
He thought of the book he was working on. He knew that it wasn't very good. He'd have to go through it a couple of times before he'd even think about giving it to a publisher. But, last night, he had simply gotten into the swing of things. He actually enjoyed writing the story. It had been a long time since that had happened.
Still, there was the beautiful day that he missed.
He stood up and started to go to the kitchen. He wanted to get himself a glass of water. Maybe even put on a coffee and get back to his story.
Then there was another crash.
Adam quickly turned toward the window
.
It wasn't a drea
m
. There had been an accident outside. The noise was unmistakable. One car slamming into another. He rushed to the window and looked out onto the street.
From the fifth floor, he could see most of the road. There were two cars below him. They had run into each other. The front of each car was badly damaged. A little further down the road Adam noticed another accident.
"Damn," he said. He could feel his heart pick up its pace.
Adam thought about calling the police. He also thought of rushing down into the street to help the people in the accidents. Only he didn't think that he'd be much help. He didn't know CPR or any of the things needed to deal with such a situation. He wasn't all that much of a fan of blood, either.
No, he'd just call the police.
He looked over at his phone. It was lying on the table beside the couch where he had been sleeping. He just needed to pick it up, dial, and that would be it.
Instead, he turned back toward the window. Something had caught his attention. A crowd. People were starting to gather around the accident.
Someone else'll call the police
,
he thought. Looking at everyone standing out there, he was sure of it.
Adam watched as a few more people walked up to the accident. Then his attention shifted back to the cars. The driver's side door of one of the cars had swung open.
Out came a man, stumbling. It was obvious that he had hurt himself. His leg looked badly injured. Though not enough to stop him from walking around to the other car.
Adam couldn't see the man's face, but he didn't think that he was going to check on the other driver. There was something agitated in his movements. Somethin
g
angr
y
. Adam figured that he'd be upset too if he were hit by another driver, but he didn't think that he'd ever do much about it. Just make sure the other driver was okay, exchange information, wait for tow trucks and the police.
Adam watched as the man continued over to the other car. As soon as he reached it, he lifted his fists into the air and started to scream. Adam definitely knew that he wouldn't have don
e
tha
t
. It was going too far, acting too wild.
Then things got worse.
The man brought his fists down onto the front of the car. Over and over he slammed them against the hood. He continued to yell too. And, though Adam couldn't make out what he was saying, he knew enough that whatever it was wasn't good. The man continued to strike the car.
It wasn't long before the driver's side door o
f
tha
t
car opened.
Nothing good was going to come of this.
Adam looked over at his cell phone once more
.
Maybe h
e
shoul
d
call the polic
e
, he thought
.
But there had to be someone out there thinking the same thing. Ther
e
ha
d
to be.
He turned back to the window.
A woman had come out of the car. She started screaming at the man. Though not for long.
Almost as soon as she came out of the car, the man attacked her. He ran at her and punched her in the face. Adam saw her head jerk back. To his surprise, she didn't fall.
He punched her again. Once more, she stayed on her feet.
More than that, she raised her own fists and started hitting the man back. Back and forth, the two hit each other. Adam couldn't believe what he was seeing.
He turned to look at the crowd. He noticed that a couple of them had started to yell too. He didn't know at who or why. They simply howled, then started hitting one another. Like a wild mob, they had gotten out of control.
Punches, kicks.
Adam saw that a few people were trying to flee. Others caught them and wrestled them to the ground.
Pulling hair, biting.
What the hell is happening
?
he wondered.
He continued to look out at the street.
Further down, at the other accident, he saw another group of people fighting. The whole street seemed to have broken out into a brawl.
No
w
I
nee
d
to call the polic
e
, he decided.
Before he had a chance to turn around and get his phone, the fight escalated. He saw one man clawing wildly at another man's face. He saw a group of people kicking someone on the ground. After the body stopped moving, they turned on each other.
Adam looked back to the car accident underneath his window. He saw the man sitting on top of the woman now. Her head was in his hands and he was repeatedly smashing it into the road. Even from this distance, Adam saw splashes of blood fly into the air.
Adam couldn't move. He was stunned. And frightened.
The fighting continued. Though now it wasn't simply fighting. It was killing. And Adam was watching it happen.
He finally turned around. He didn't know what was happening. He had never seen anything like that before. But he couldn't watch anymore.
He quickly went over to his phone, picked it up and diale
d
91
1
.
He waited
.
The line was busy.
Adam looked at the phone
.
How could 911 be busy
?
He had never heard of such a thing before.
He tried again.
Once more, he couldn't get through.
"What the hell?"
He threw the phone onto the couch and hurried back over to the window. It wasn't that he wanted to see what was happening out there, but he needed to try to figure out what was going on.
He looked outside. The fighting had continued.
Punches, kicks, blood.
Adam's eyes came upon the woman from the car again. She was lying out in the middle of the road. She wasn't moving. Adam presumed that she was dead; which wasn't much of a presumption. There wasn't much left of her face and part of her skull had been cracked wide open. There was a large jelly-like thing falling out from it. Adam knew that it had to be her brain.
He turned away from her and scanned the crowd. He wanted to see where the man who had done this had gone. He searched through the wild faces and erratic behaviour and saw him.
The man had moved on from the woman to a small man. Adam could see that the small man was trying to defend himself. He had his arms up over his head and was curled into a little ball. He wasn't fighting back like the woman had tried.
At the moment, Adam didn't find that odd. The woman probably had a lot of adrenaline running through her body after the crash. Of course, that didn't explain all of the others.
The man in the crash continued to beat at the small man on the ground. Only this time he wasn't using his fists. He was using his fingers like claws and he was gouging at the small man's face. He tore away at it, swipe after swipe.
Adam could see both men yelling. The man from the car screaming out of anger and the man on the ground out of pain.
It wasn't long before they stopped. The man from the car had done enough damage to silence the other. He stood up and ran into the crowd. Adam watched him go.
What the fuck is happening
?
Adam asked himself.
By now he was more than frightened. He was petrified. And confused.
He went back to his couch and sat down on it. He sunk heavily into the cushions.
He didn't know what else to do.
Chapter 2
Jane walked into her house. She was holding her baby in her arms. The little girl had fallen asleep on the car ride home. She turned to her husband. He was just coming through the door.
"I'm going to put her to bed," Jane said.
"Okay," Phil replied. "I think I'm gonna take a little nap too."
Phil went into their bedroom. Jane heard the door close behind him.
Once she got to her daughter's room, she placed the little girl in her crib. Becky was big, but not big enough to be sleeping in a bed. Maybe in a month or so. She couldn't believe how fast her daughter was growing.
Her silly little goos
e
.
Becky stayed asleep. When her mother put her into the crib, she simply grabbed hold of her blanket and clutched it closely toward her.
Jane looked down at her daughter. She felt happiness at just seeing her. She thought about the joy that the little girl had brought to the family. She pictured her daughter getting older and maybe having children of her own.
She bent over and kissed her daughter on the side of the head. Becky murmured softly. Then she stood up and went into the kitchen. She wanted to get herself something to drink.
On her way, she turned on the television. There wasn't anything in particular that she wanted to watch. She just liked the noise in the background. She made sure to keep it turned down. After all, she didn't want to wake her husband and daughter.
Jane opened her fridge and pulled out a can of pop. She flicked open the top of the can. It hissed. She took a few sips straight from the can, then decided that it would be better if she got a glass. She went into the cupboard and took one out. She filled it with the black, bubbly liquid.
Jane walked back into the living room. She hadn't been paying attention to the television, but now she could see that something serious was happening on the news. She sat down on the sofa to watch.
"...don't know what's happening," the news reporter claimed. "There have been reports that it is happening all over the city and possibly the country. No one knows why."
There were images of car fires on the television. There was also a group of people fighting.
There must have been some sort of riot in the cit
y
, she thought
.
But the reporter had said all over the country too. Why would he have said that?
Jane took another sip from her glass. She continued to watch. There were more images of fighting. She was sure that several of the people had been hurt badly. Maybe even killed.
Then the camera turned back to the reporter. He was no longer talking. He was simply looking into the camera with a strange look in his eyes.
He started yelling.
Jane couldn't make out what he was saying, but she knew that it wasn't good. The camera man must have known it, too, because the camera spun around and began bouncing up and down as he ran away. Not long after, the camera was thrown to the ground. Jane saw a pair of feet
(
the reporter's
?
) run past. She heard some more shouting, more banging, before the screen turned black.
Jane was left staring at the television. There was nothing on the screen. She had no idea what had just happened. But, whatever it was, she knew that it wasn't good.
To make matters worse, she heard a noise come from her daughter's room. It sounded like an animal had gotten in there. She dropped her drink onto the floor and ran upstairs. She flew through the doorway, ready to attack whatever animal was there.
With one quick look around the room, Jane knew that there wasn't any animal. Instead, it was her daughter.
Becky was standing in the crib. Looking over the edge of it. Trying to climb it. She was mumbling something as she tried. She sounded upset. Almos
t
angr
y
.
Jane ran over to her daughter and picked her up.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Without pause, Becky started hitting her mother. Her tiny fists banging against Jane's shoulders.
"Becky! What's wrong?"
Jane hugged her daughter closely and rocked her back and forth.
The daughter continued to hit. Then her mumbling turned into a scream. It sent a chill down Jane's back. Followed by pain. Her daughter had bitten her mother's shoulder.
The pain surprised Jane so much that she almost dropped the little girl onto the ground. Luckily, she managed to hold on.
"What are you doing?" she asked. Her voice stern, concerned.
The little girl didn't pay her any attention. She tried to bite her again. She continued to hit.
"Phil, get in here and help me! There's something wrong with Becky!"
Jane continued trying to hold her daughter, but it became too difficult. She had to put her back into the crib. Becky starting hitting the sides of it. She tried to climb out again.
"Phil! Get in here!"
There was no answer.
Jane went to the doorway to call for her husband. He was obviously in a deep sleep and needed to be shaken awake. She wasn't going to leave her daughter alone, though.
"Phil! GET...IN...HEEEERE!"
Finally, Jane heard her bedroom door open. But, as soon as she saw her husband, she didn't feel any better. Instead, she felt panicked, worried. He had the same look in his eyes that her daughter had.
Phil looked at his wife. Then he charged at her.
Jane reacted quickly. She saw him coming and was able to close the bedroom door before he arrived. She pressed the lock into place.
Phil banged on the door. His fists hit heavily against it. Jane could hear him screaming something unintelligible.
"Phil, what are you doing?" she screamed back.
He didn't answer. Just more yelling.
Jane thought back to the television and knew right away that it had to be something from that. The reporter. The fires. The screaming. The fighting
.
People were going crazy
.
And, just like that, she knew that her husband was going to try to kill her.
Jane looked back at her daughter. The little girl was still trying to get out of her crib. She was grabbing the sides of it, growling as she did.
Jane could feel her husband's fists banging against the door.
She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to leave her daughter alone, but she didn't think that she had much choice. The same thing had happened to the little girl. Becky had gone mad.
Jane looked to the bedroom window
.
She could go out ther
e
, she thought. Except she was on the second floor. The fall might hurt her. Besides she didn't know where she'd go after that.
Phil continued to hit the door. Jane knew that it was going to break any second. She had to act now.
She turned and ran into the closet. Her daughter's little clothes pressed against her back as she pushed herself into the small space. She closed the door. Not all of the way. She left a little gap so she could see what was happening. Her daughter continued to scream and try to get out of the crib.
The bedroom door burst open. Jane gasped as the wood cracked.
Phil ran into the room and took a quick look around. Jane did her best to keep quiet.
She watched as her husband continued to search around the room. He stopped as soon as he saw their child. He ran toward her
.
Her silly goose
.
She was screaming at him, trying to get t
o
hi
m
now.
Phil roared and stepped toward his daughter. He hit her across the face.
Jane winced as she heard the sound of her husband's fist connect. She wanted to run out and stop it. She just wasn't sure that there would be anything that she could do.
The reporter. Something had changed. Something had happened.
Becky fell down into the crib. Though that didn't stop Phil from continuing his attack. He hit the little girl a few more times. Then he picked her up and threw her across the room. Becky hit the wall and landed at the floor. She continued to scream. Jane could see her daughter's arms and legs swing wildly in the air.
Jane continued to watch. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
None of this could be real. It jus
t
couldn'
t
.
Phil ran over to his daughter and fell onto his knees beside her. He started hitting her again. This time she tried to hit back, but there wasn't much that she could do much against a grown man.
Jane stared, frozen.
None of this made any sense.
Phil let out a huge roar as he picked Becky up in both hands and held her over his head.
Jane couldn't breathe.
Oh, no
,
she thought
.
No…
He let out another roar and brought the little girl crashing down onto the floor. Over and over again. He stopped only when there was a loud crack and Becky was silenced. She had stopped moving too.
Jane had to fight back her tears. She didn't want to make a sound, but her daughter lay on the ground, dead. It was too much to handle. She brought her hand up to her mouth and tried to stifle any sounds she might be making.
She watched as Phil looked down at his daughter. She saw him toss her aside. He stood up and looked around the room. He shook his head back and forth as though he was trying to remember something. He started walking around and came to a stop in front of the closet. He stared at it.
Jane wanted to close the door, but she knew that any movement would give away her position. She kept quiet and tried not to move.
Her heart was beating loudly. And, though it felt like he could hear it, she knew that he couldn't. She just needed to remain calm.
Phil came closer to the door. He lowered his head, listening for any sound from the other side. He lifted his hand and placed it along the wall. He looked at it strangely. His fingers scratched across the surface.
Then there was a crash.
Phil turned around. Someone had thrown a rock through the window.
He roared, ran toward the window and jumped out of the room.
As soon as Phil was gone, Jane rushed out of the closet. She hadn't meant to do it. Everything within her told her that it was a dangerous idea. But she couldn't stop herself. She needed to see her daughter.
She rushed over to the little girl. Becky was lying motionless on the floor. Jane picked her up. The child was dead.
She had known that, but she had kept hoping that she had been wrong. Holding her daughter in her hands now, she knew that she hadn't been.
"Becky," Jane whispered.
She lowered her head and snuggled it into the curve of her daughter's neck. She kissed the little girl. Then she rushed back into the closet. She felt safe there.
Jane closed the closet door and closed her eyes.
Within moments she was overcome with it all and fell asleep, her dead daughter in her arms.
Her silly little goos
e
.