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worry about what was going on around Ozersk and now Kyshtym and not concern himself with anything else.  Although he would have liked to have had at least some sort of reason or explanation on what was going on, he knew that he was serving in the Russian Army, and being uninformed was standard operating procedure.
    Yes, they were in a situation alright, a situation that made no sense.  It was obvious that the rabies was just a cover story, but the captain knew that whatever had broken out at Ozersk was much more severe than rabies—and much more sinister.  The last time he had checked, rabies didn’t resurrect the dead—and the dead were definitely being resurrected around Ozersk.
    After realizing that the outbreak was spreading unchecked, the military had quickly decided to quarantine the areas around Ozersk and Kyshtym.  Kozlov and his division were ordered to surround Ozersk and the nuclear facilities on the south end of the town.  The division was also tasked with holding the Kyshtym complex since its garrison had gone missing.  The airspace over the entire region had been shut down and strict orders were given to “neutralize” anyone who showed any signs of “sickness.”  The president was aware of the gravity of the situation and of the consequences his nation would face if any real media coverage was given to that situation.  Reporters were not allowed anywhere near the sites and the military was given a free hand to deal with any “persistent” journalists or camera crews.
    Kozlov had heard from some of the other commanders that several news crews had actually been shot and their bodies burned.  If that were true, then things must have really been bad.  He found himself hoping that the unfortunate reporters weren’t international crews, because if they had been, that would just be one more thing that the world could hate Russia for.
    While staring at the eerie sight of the burning city, Kozlov replayed in his mind the events that took place the day his unit had rolled up to the burning plant just outside of Ozersk.  Without warning, they had been set upon by a large mob of both soldiers and civilians—bloodied, ragged and crazed.  Swarming over the vehicles like ants attacking pieces of food, a few of his troops were snatched from their hatches before they could react.  Those unlucky few were then torn to shreds in the most grotesque and gruesome ways.
    After securing themselves inside their vehicles and getting over the initial shock of what had just happened, Kozlov and his men were forced to take action against the rampaging horde, decimating a large number of them.  It was then when the captain noticed the terrifying sight of some of the dead returning to life.
    As Kozlov had just finished strafing a group of about 20 or so people, he was about to shift the sights of his co-axial gun to another cluster, but before he was able to do so, he noticed that several of the people who he had just shot were getting back to their feet—again.   He delivered a second burst into the group, noticing that some of the people were still walking around—some of them with missing body parts.  Without explaining why, Kozlov then ordered his driver, Kuzma, to plow into the crowd.  If he couldn’t kill the lunatics with bullets, he would crush them under his treads.
    As the day wore on, the captain found it easy enough to destroy the crazed attackers, but he found himself wondering just how much ammunition would be required to blast them away, or how much petrol it would take to run them down.  The Russian Army was a mighty force, but only as long as they had supplies.  A shortage of provisions could mean a whole new take on this outlandish, almost unbelievable situation, and with their president ordering a general mobilization of the military, getting re-supplied could get real dicey.  He shuddered at the unimaginable thought of running out of ammunition and fuel.
    ***
     
    As the dazed captain