[indent][b]----Jean----[/b][/indent]
I heard the news over the emergency alert system at a little airstrip in Italy's country side. At the time, I was just annoyed she was going to have to delay the takeoff for my practice flight. Two months later and all air traffic was restricted to commercial and military use only. I was only supposed to be overseas for a few days, but days turned to weeks and weeks into months. I was staying with my flight instructor and his family, who owned a small slice of land about ten miles from the nearest city, Bari. My instructor, his wife and two twin boys stayed out of the city for the most part. The wife was one of those crazy germaphobes, and from the day after the meteor hit she had been insisting we all wear masks. I humored her and always wore it around the house, but whenever I would go out with the twins, we all took them off. Who went fishing with a surgical mask? 

Things got real that spring, when it was announced the disease had become airborne. The boys kept their masks on and were no longer allowed out of the house. The wife had declared I was a "bad influence and a threat to their family", and I was asked to move into the barn. I camped out with the family's old mare Sugar and a littler of German Shepherd puppies, who all seemed to enjoy the company. I missed my brothers constantly and worried about what might be happening at home.

Jake, the older of the twins, was the first to get sick. By the end of September he was gone, with his brother Jeremiah following soon after. Their father was next, and by mid November I was left alone with the wife. I was allowed to move back into the house to keep her company, but it was a lost cause. The woman had lost all she loved. She sat in her rocker on the back porch day and night, staring across the empty cornfields with a listless expression. I knew she was hurting, and felt helpless because there was nothing I would ever be able to do to fill the gap in her soul. About a week later, the woman became hysterical, screaming about how it all was a conspiracy, that someone had done this to us intentionally. 

I always thought I was tough. I was mature, forced to grow up before I was ready. I always had something to protect, and so I always had to be strong. My self-confidence shattered when the gunshot woke me. I knew immediately the poor woman had just taken her life. I rolled out of the bed and onto the old wood floor, reaching under the bed to grab my combat boots. My hands shook as I got dressed and shoved some things into a backpack. My body moved on its own, grabbing things I might need - a change of clothes, my wallet, lots of clean socks, a handheld radio, batteries, a flashlight.... I pulled on my favorite pair of black skinny jeans and sat down on the bed to lace up my boots. I grabbed my pocket knife from the bedside drawer and stuck it into my right boot. I paused for a moment before I stood up again, wondering what it was I planned to do. I checked my watch, as if it had the answers. It was November 27th, 4:49 am. I stood up, tugged on a fresh tee shirt and shouldered my backpack before heading out the front door. I skirted around to the barn, careful not to look at the scene on the back porch.

The pups were waiting for me, and they jumped out of a pile of hay to great me. Two of them had died of distemper some time the beginning of the fall, leaving just the two males. I had named them Akira and Roscoe, after two of my dogs from back home. I ruffled their ears in turn before I moved over to Sugar's stall. "Hey, old girl." I croaked. My voice sounded weak, tired. The horse snorted and butted my chest with her nose, making the corners of my mouth turn up in the slightest smile. I was planning on going to the city, but there was no way I could ride old Sugar the whole ten miles. The poor girl was having trouble even coming out of her stale to graze in the morning. As bad as I felt about it, I knew she wasn't long for the world, and I decided to leave her behind. I let her out to graze, propping the barn door open with some sandbags so she could come and go as she pleased. 

With a great sigh, I looked over my shoulder at the house. I knew I should go check the wife, that I should lay her to rest with her boys, but I couldn't do it. I had no deep attachment to the woman, but the thought of burying her brought to many dark thoughts about what might be happening back home, to my brothers. No, I refused to think about that.

I took off down the dirt road toward Bari, the two young German Shepherds falling in at my heal.

--

I arrived in Bari on December 1st. A radio call had gone out a few hours after I arrived, requesting all survivors head to the city hall 'to discus their plan of action'. I was reluctant at first, but I didn't know what else to do. Roscoe whined and pawed at my leg, bringing me out of my trance. "Okay, let's go, boys."

I had no idea where city hall was. So, I wandered about for around an hour before I spotted another person. After seeing him, I was reminded of what a sight I probably was - my hair was in a messy braid down my back, twigs twisted into the braid. My jeans were dirty and torn at the knee. Lucky, I actually still had a pretty decent shirt, just a plain drab green tee. I was afraid to confront the guy, so I stayed a respective distance and just followed him, hoping he was going to city hall. He was.

There weren't a whole lot of people, probably around 25, but just enough to make me a little edgy. Akira and Roscoe stuck close, their usual energy gone and a wary look in their eyes instead. Although I was nervous, I kept my head high as I wandered into the building, boldly meeting the eyes of anyone who happened to look up at me. For the most part, people seemed to be keeping to themselves, which was just as well in my opinion. I found a spot towards the center of the room against the wall where I could stay out of the crowd, but close enough to hear what they were talking about. I sat down, leaning against the wall. My eyes darted between the different faces, and I realized I was scowling. I didn't really want to give the impression I wasn't friendly, so I quickly fixed my glare and tried to look a little more sociable as I waited for something to happen.