CDC Center. Fort Leonard Wood, MS.

Three men were talking in the control center, various monitors lit up around them. There were over 30 monitors and they were split in half, but every monitor from the 1st and 2nd floor, along with the perimeter cameras were off-line and black. 

Two of the men involved were armed men in blue security uniforms in various forms of tidiness. The third man wore a lighter blue service outfit with barely visible, dark blue pinstripes. The man with pinstripes was in the middle of speaking, somewhat nervously. "I told you. It's not something I can stop. I'm a fucking tech. I'm here to make sure the whole system is working properly, and, well. It is. This happens every 9 months, when the people in there are supposed to be removed while the rooms are sanitized. I played around, but can't find any way to actually stop it."

The next man, one of the guards, spoke up in a more assertive tone. "Well. Bottom line is that in 20 minutes, those doors are going to open. That means people we don't know, more mouths to feed and more fucking coming back to life if something happens. I don't know them or trust them. We don't know if they were criminals or what. I plan on staying here until help comes. Staying here and living. I told you guys before, they have FOOD in there. We should have gone in there and taken it weeks ago."

"Taken it and what Bradley? Left them to starve? Killed them?" The second guard spoke up but didn't seem to have and punch or conviction behind his words. 

"Horace, you don't have any god damned common sense. If they get out, we're going to die. Sooner. No food. Or shit, they might damn well come after US for what WE have." Bradley looked over at the tech and said, "Anders, you're supposed to be the smart one, how the fuck come you can sit there and not see this for what it is?"

Anders didn't look up from a screen, it was a room with an empty bed and nothing going on, but he didn't have the resolve to look Bradley in the eye. "I just can't...do that. I'm not a killer."

"Fine, fine. You guys are right. I'm just, nervous, you know? I want to live. The best thing to do would be--what the hell is room # 5 doing?" He pointed at the screen, although neither Anders nor Horace needed to be directed to screen five. 

Horace looked up and raised an eyebrow, turning to look back at Bradley. "I don't see an--" He hadn't turned fully to face Bradley when the round took him in the temple, spraying some of the computers with red bites and pieces. 

"W-w-what the. Holy sh-shit what. Bradley you fucking... Why?" 

"You wouldn't understand," he pointed the gun at Anders who began to protest but the first syllable hadn't even made its way off his tongue before the second shot ripped through the front of the tech's head.

Without a word, or taking a moment to clean up, Bradley simply walked out of the room and into the armory next door. He pulled out 2 more 9mm glocks and ten 15-round magazines, loading them in place. There weren't that many people, but he'd rather be safe than sorry. He looked up at the countdown on the screen and there were now 16 minutes remaining. He moved to sit on the floor at the end of the hall, wishing he had a joint or a drink, going over his gear every so often. 

Silently, he hoped they'd all just step out at once so he could get most of the killing done quickly and be done with it. He just wanted to eat and go to sleep. "Fucking tired of this shit," he said to himself.