[center][b]UNC-Asheville: Library[/center][/b] The world had gone to shit, the world had literally gone to shit and people were out in this crazy shit hole trying to eat each other’s faces off for the sheer primal thrill. What was he doing? What was one of the key instigators of all this rash, unmitigated bullshit doing? He was holed up on the second floor of the UNC Asheville Library, with an unconscious man who may or may not have been one of the face eaters outside. He slapped his head several times, before shaking it and inching towards the door. A new development had come - there was someone else in the building. Judging by the fact they were able to use their voices, they couldn’t have been the zombie men and women that were trying to kill them. This voice came from a woman, whom was also on the second floor. Another inch, and then another. The door was still out of arms length, but with weapon in hand he could touch the knob. Shakily, his hand reached towards the door. Fingers curled to touch the door knob, perched to pull the door open, when a booming voice startled him. [b]“If there is someone in here that would rather eat fucking spaghettis than my face then why don’t you say something instead of creeping around damn it!” [/b] He nearly jumped out of his skin, and stepped back from the door. He stared at it for a moment, unsure how to answer - but the lady down the hall covered it for him, and questioned if he was alone. Hopefully he was, hopefully there were no freaks in the building coming to eat his face like the man from Florida that had eaten that man’s face after using some bath salts. Jack turned his attention to the man he had knocked out with the heavy stick. Something was peculiar about him, he didn’t seem like one of the others outside that had completely lost their mind. Had, in an act of self preservation, he injured or potentially killed another sane man? Someone that had avoided the same fate as the others? He shook his head again. Those thoughts would do nothing to help him now, if the man were dead, or worse, injured - there was nothing he could do about it now. He looked towards the door and found new resolve. There was nothing in this room left for him. He had come with nothing, and found a stick. That stick had assaulted a man, and now it was only a matter of time before those freaks outside reversed their situation and came in. He approached the door with purpose, and gripped the handle, pulling it open. He didn’t brazenly step out into the open, he was not a dumb man. Instead he peeked out of the door, checking the outside environment for any apparent dangers. [b]“Hey, you two! Up on the second floor, there is a large room filled with Encyclopedias. We can meet up there. Uhm, there is a lady up here and I presume she can hear this. She can go first. It’s closer to her anyway. Then the guy downstairs can make his way up.”[/b] With that he quickly jumped back into the room and slammed the door shut. [center][b]In the Bayou[/b][/center] [b]“Things couldn’t be going any better. Whatever those big wigs up north cooked up is working. It’s time for our part of the deal to be completed.” [/b]The man at the center of the twelve man table. [b]“Don’t think I heard anything stupider than that since them blacks and white apologists voted in that Muslim Anti-Christ Barack Obama for a second term.”[/b] These words were followed by the familiar sound of a spittoon being put to action. The hillbilly, Michael, looked at his fellow tablemen and smirked. [b]“Couldn’t be any better? If it weren’t for my place being so far out of the way, we’d probably be mincemeat like the other five or six folks that should have been with us today.” [/b] The remaining six men and women, looked around the table and murmured their agreement. It was by pure chance that they hadn’t turned, and there were no assurances that they were free and clear. [b]“Did that boy from Asheville call back yet? That uppity fella with the degree?”[/b] Michael asked. [b]“Not yet, but I don’t expected another call until after he has made another breakthrough.”[/b] Came a voice from the head of the table. [b]“And I would like it if you didn’t patronize your coworkers, Michael, it doesn’t make for a healthy work environment.”[/b] [b]“Son, you’re out here in the middle of the bayou with the gators, crickets, and all sorts of yummy things. This is as unhealthy as we can git.” [/b] The man’s hand came from the shadow and waved everyone away. As dumb as Michael sounded and acted, he had a point. They were only safer due to their location and he had no inclination to leave the safety of the sparsely populated bayou. The marsh and gators would get anything stupid enough to try and trek through here, and that was okay with him. The man finally rose and headed out of the room, following the rest. They had all went to handle their various duties, on how to weaponize this slowly growing pandemic. He was their benefactor, and had connections everywhere. Asheville was the smallest of his reaches, with places like Los Angeles, New York City, and Austin being among the largest. --- [b]Summary:[/b] Jack told the folks to meet him in the Encyclopedia room. A gathering a men had a little tiff about their safety.