There were rooms around the back of the house closer to the orchards and the winery where the guests stayed. The main house was usually reserved for family and friends only, but Julia Parsons always had a big heart. It was a trait Sarah had always admired. Now the house was filled with strangers congregating in the narrow hallways, huddled together around their phones listening to emergency broadcasts or watching clips from helicopters on the news of the epidemic that was rapidly spreading across the nation. Entire cities had been blocked off and quarantined with news anchors warning to stay away from places such as hospitals. None of it made any sense, but they were simple enough instructions to follow and the people were looking for direction of some kind. No one here was a leader it seemed, the closest to it being Mr. Parsons yelling for his sons to start reinforcing the doors and windows. Wes returned moments later pushing a brocade camelback sofa against the front door. Sarah wasn't sure if he was simply ignoring her presence or truly hadn't noticed her, but his lack of acknowledgment had her hiding her face and scurrying to the next room with the other guests. “You think it's the end of the world?” “Of course not. They'll have this cleared up in no time.” “What if we're the only survivors?” The topic of conversation was morbid and she shivered recollecting the events at the party. No matter how hard she tried, she found it near impossible to push the images from her mind. They replayed like a stuck tape. “Heard the eldest found someone attacked by one of those things. They're taking care of 'em out back.” “Wyatt? Never was a smart one. Haven't they been listening to the news? You don't go near anyone who's been attacked...” Sarah didn't want want to listen to anymore. Wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a room to collapse in until it all ended, she went off in search of Mrs. Parsons. Turning the corner she ran into Wes instead this time one arm filled with planks while the other held a box of nails and a hammer. He seemed surprised to see her. Though she thought she saw a flash of relief behind his gaze it quickly turned into indifference. “Glad you're okay,” he said with an added afterthought, “Sorry to hear about your parents.” He gave a nod towards the windows, a silent request for her to help him, and she obliged by following after him. “You wanna hold or hammer?” “It doesn't matter.” She held the board up to the windows as he hammered the nails to keep it in place. The two of them worked in silence to finish the one window and then they were out of boards for the next; he'd misjudged the amount they'd needed from the shed. “Have you seen Johnny or Ethan around?” He looked around the room to double check they weren't there before saying, “No clue.” Sarah sighed, regret pooling in the pit of her stomach for abandoning Johnny and the others the way that she had. She hoped they had gotten somewhere safe. Seeing her worried expression, his brows knitted in concerned before he heaved a sigh and said, “Hey. Don't think the worst, okay? I know how you like to get lost in your own head.” Sarah became defensive. “I do not.” He didn't notice. “They could be around here. You'll have to ask around.” With that, he left her to her own devices going out to get more wood for the windows. ---- Miranda stiffened as her sister yelled in the cab, screaming in horror as the man took a large rock and beat the other in the head until he could not lift the heavy rock anymore. Rebecca’s hands hurt from the force with which she gripped the steering wheel, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted as she watched the man vomit then sit his dirty ass on her new brush guard. “GET. THE. FUCK. OFF. MY TRUCK.” she screamed, the thick glass muted her words as she snarled at the thing. He was not human. He was a murderer. There was something obviously wrong with the man who no longer had a head, but that did not mean this self-proclaimed celebrity could do as he pleased. “Murderer! Sicko! CREEP!” Miranda screamed tears left trails through her thick eye makeup, each girl tensed as he began to run around the side of the truck, trying the back seat doors only to find them locked. He shouted something at them and a patrol car came slamming through the field, narrowly missing the large truck and filling the cab with more screams. “THIS TOWN IS FUCKING INSANE MYRA!” Rebecca screamed, shaking, unused to the bloodshed, the abject violence. People liked to tease her when she revealed she was a hunter, a marksman, and it always boiled down to sport and necessity. She hunted for food, she hunted for sport, she never hunted something smarter than her, and she certainly did not hunt humans. “Becky, get us the fuck out of here, NOW. I don’t know what’s going on but oh my god we’re not staying here. I don’t know why I said stop. I’m so sorry.” Miranda gushed, she melted into a puddle of muttering and hiccuped cries. “Myra, it’s fine… It’s ok… I stopped here, you had no idea. I had no idea. We’ll get to the cabin, we’ll be ok. Once the city opens back up we get the police zoned in on this place, or we can move. I don’t care which.” Rebecca calmed her sister down, a wane smile stretched across her face, but it did not reach her eyes. With her phone, Rebecca took a few pictures of the men who had mowed down the hurt individuals, but she froze again as the self-proclaimed police officer told them to follow. Like hell, she would take her sister along with murderers. She smiled, nodded her head as if she would follow and as the men made it into their vehicles, she fandangled with the key in the ignition. Sturdy, a bit old, and reinforced for hell and back, her truck roared to life, thick mudding tires spun in the soft, blood-soaked earth before catching traction. Rebecca tore back the way they had come, clear of the undead- although the girls did not quite know it yet- and began again for their mountain home away from home. Tired and on edge from the carnage they had witnessed, Rebecca reasoned it was best to steer clear from any farm or another heavily populated area until the military was able to roll through and patch things up. The face of the guard swam to the forefront of her mind and she sighed, it might be a bit longer than they hoped. ---- Aeres scooted his BMW to a halt when the sight of a human-looking man caught him by surprise. Glacier eyes big with pupils dilated, all he found he could do was to nod and gulp as Ethan introduced himself and ordered him to drive along with the others towards a place he didn’t even mentally process. He didn’t hear the rest of the sheriff’s order or explainarion, as his mind was focused solely on holding onto the wheel like death would find him if he released his grip. Someone got into his vehicle, or maybe he imagined it, but either way the young man didn’t respond to the greeting he was given. Instead, he watched as the new passenger settled himself in, and as soon as it was safe to drive on, he did as he had been told and followed the police car. The man had an awful stench that filled his car, overpowering the pine air freshener hanging from the mirror, and the smell tickled his nostrils. It would be rude, he thought, to say anything about it, and so he remained strangely silent. When the car in front of him stopped, so did he. He turned off the ignition and parked but did not get out. Glancing over at the other passenger in the front seat again, he stared for an uncomfortable amount of time before asking, “We stop here? Can we get out? Is this safe?” Slowly with a deep sigh, he let go of the wheel and folded his hands neatly in his lap over his blood-splattered trousers. They had never seen so much filth—he kept his attire tidy and dry cleaned only.