Carl Dobson woke from a deep sleep when his wife began touching him. Normally he liked being woken up for a late night romp, but Charlotte had been sick, really sick and something was not right with this scenario. His sleep addled brain struggled to comprehend what was wrong. She liked it rough but this was different, not at all the sexy rough he was used to. When they had gone to bed she had been burning up with fever, now her flesh was cold and it made him shy away.

Suddenly she was all over him in a frenzy, groaning vulgarly and groping him. He pushed back calling out her name, but she kept on. Fully awake now he held her at bay while fumbling for the light. It must be a seizure Carl's brain jumped to the quickest explanation, but his thinking was cut short when her teeth sunk into the flesh in his arm. He cried out in pain followed by a quick bust of anger.

"Get off me!" Carl growled throwing her off the bed.

He was a large guy and much like his father he had been taught never to hit a woman. Reaching for the light switch he wasn't prepared for what he found. Charlotte was dead. That didn't seem to stop her from getting up to continue her attack. Carl however wasn't about to let her have a second helping, instead he ran.

Outside the bedroom door his brain was on again and racing at a thousand miles an hour. The government had announced a pandemic, but it had only been a flu type illness. Sure it was contagious, nearly everyone had caught it, even Evelyn, his six year old daughter had it. It hit him like a freight train, she was asleep in bed sick also. Without wasting a second he rushed down the hall to her room, his heart pounding. But it was all for naught, she wouldn't wake, her flesh was cold and her eyes were glazed beneath the lids.

Carl grieved with his dead daughter in his arms as the television repeated the same message over and over. Stay indoors to avoid catching or spreading the virus and food drops will be organized. The same news broadcasts played the same helpful pandemic hints as though there was no one left to report.

When he could no longer stomach the repetition he lay Evelyn on her bed and looked out the window. The city was supposed to be in lock down, but sick people roamed the streets, or maybe they were like Charlotte. He shuddered at the thought and as if on cue, she thumped noisily in the other room. Carl wished he had the internet, or any other source of information other than the government emergency broadcasts, somewhere to go or something to do. Instead it seemed people were trapped in their homes while the undead roamed the streets. Whatever had happened had hit fast and Carl wondered if he were truly alone in this.