Read LZR-1143: Infection for Free Online Page B

terrorist attacks in ‘01, and the Katrina debacle in ‘05.
    Boy, if that mess didn’t teach you that you have to watch your own back, nothing will, huh?
    A small town in Jersey was highlighted; they had evacuated their whole township in under two hours, and were locked tight in a local stadium, complete with a contingent of Guard and the whole damn police force. Compare that with one of the stories about a shelter opened by FEMA in DC to keep some inner city neighborhoods safe and secure; someone had left a back door wide open when loading water into storage, and the doors were all dead bolted from the inside. Those things wandered right in, following the water boys, and the guy with the key went missing. The next part was predictable, and the only survivor could barely get out the story before collapsing in front of the interviewers. Of course, the small towns only had 5,000 people to handle, and DC had a few more bodies to contain. But still.
    The rural areas might be faring better, but they weren’t on the news. The populated areas were hit hardest and fastest; the denser the population, the faster it spread, and the more resulting converts there were to infect others.
    I remembered seeing a program on the internet when I was younger. It was put up by a math student at a university in Boston, and it purported to simulate a zombie invasion, and the rapidity with which an infection like that would spread. A joke at the time, probably inspired by an obsession with that director who made all those zombie movies, it illustrated how fast a disease like this would spread. It was just a simple maze with hundreds of little dots milling around aimlessly. The gray dots were zombies and the green ones were humans. You start out with five or six gray ones, and hundreds of greens. When the zombie dots touched the human dots, they turned to gray, and the infection rate accelerated out of control. In a matter of minutes, the box was totally gray.
    It was interesting at the time but now, as the theory was put into play, it seemed too real. If that was any indication of how fast this plague could move, we were looking at a shit load of gray dots. Humanity’s fate, summed up online, and in a matter of minutes. Will the wonders of the internet age never cease?
    I snapped back to the present as we hung a left at the water fountain and toward the back exit, which through the window on the door looked to open into a garage of some sort. Given the number of those things I had glimpsed from Wisteria, seemed to be very little to recommend this course of action, this headlong plunge into the known unknown. But I wasn’t about to hang around here. We weren’t. We couldn’t. So better the devil you don’t know, right? Whatever.
    We reached an external door with a red and white striped handle: the kind that are keyed to an alarm, so that anyone within a half mile knows when the door is opened.
    “The only way to disarm this alarm is from the guard booth on the other side of the building,” said Kate, “and I don’t think any of us want to make that trip.” She indicated back the way we came.
    “So this door is going to scream bloody murder when we touch that bar,” I filled in, not really a question. She nodded. We shared a look that conveyed our mutual uncertainty. We had no idea whether the ones outside would be attracted by such a noise, or if they needed to see their prey to be drawn to us.
    “On the other side of this doorway is a parking garage, but we have no way of knowing what’s out there.” The sounds of pursuit filtered to our position from further down the hall. Slow, but persistent. “But we don’t have a choice, and our options are limited. We’re looking for plate number XLJ 920, Jersey tags.” She looked out the window in the door, which afforded a very narrow view of the exterior. No-Name grunted, and Erica stared down the hall the way we had come. Fred, sensing the tension, bounced quickly on the balls of his