Several soldiers and a couple men in white lab coats sat in a dimly lit room at Camp Pendleton. Their voices began to get louder as they talked, their tempers beginning to flare. Victor Owens put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. He was doing his best to stay calm and not have another angry outburst. It had been the same thing for the past week. They would argue about what was happening, who was to blame and how to resolve the issue. Nothing productive ever came from it though. 

Victor sighed and addressed the soldiers, "Look, for the hundredth time, there's nothing we can do here! We have no equipment. If any progress is to be made, we need access to our laboratory. We at least need one of those corpses so we can study it. Maybe then there's a chance at discovering the origin of this madness."

The ranking officer in the room was having none of it. "Those things are all over the place outside this base and we've lost enough good men already! We need answers, not excuses!"

Before the argument could escalate any further, there was a loud noise outside. The sound of gunfire was usually present at the camp, but now it had intensified. Everybody ran, or wheeled, out of the building where their meeting was taking place. A vehicle had blasted through the gate, and now the dead were pouring inside. A vicious battle was taking place, and the humans appeared to be on the losing side. Victor and his colleague, a younger scientist named Ed, were momentarily left alone. "Let's get out of here!" Ed yelled, and he grabbed Victor's arm to try and pull him along. Victor shook his arm free, not wanting to accept any assistance. "I'm going! I'm going!" he barked back at Ed. Victor moved his wheelchair along as fast as his arms could make it go, as the two headed away from the gate and further into the base.