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strange scientific-looking paraphernalia.
     
    “ Dr. Josephson, what can you tell us about the events? Will the drug wear off? What can we do about this situation?” the reporter asked, turning to the camera every few words, as if to gain permission from the viewing audience to ask the questions.
     
    “ It’s simple, even for a nincompoop like you, Blaine,” Dr. Josephson said.
     
    “ It’s Bruce.”
     
    “ Whatever. The drug was skipped through the FDA testing as well as Health Canada; money greased the wheels to hurry it to market. In the two months since it’s been out, it made over 1.6 trillion dollars. You can imagine how that would make a company eager to get it to the public.”
     
    Bruce leaned in. “Those numbers can’t be right.”
     
    Dr. Josephson snorted. “337 million people, give or take a few thousand, get the shot through legal means. That’s in North America alone. Five thousand dollars shot, one hundred people a day per clinic. You should do your research before you go on air Bruno.”
     
    The doctor sat down on a ratty old stool and looked up into the camera, as if Bruce were no longer worth speaking to.
     
    “ There is no cure. There is no chance it will go away. It won’t wear off, it is designed to link permanently to the molecular structure of human bones, organs, and most importantly, brain. It cannot be transferred by a bite, as the modern movie culture would have you believe. These are not zombies, these are people gone feral, wild. They are acting as packs, not unlike a pack of wolves with an Alpha male and female, and the rest working as a group for food and protection.” His pale blue eyes seemed to bore into me and I shivered with the intensity. “To the public who have not taken Nevermore I will say only one thing,” He paused, dropped his head and shook it slightly before looking back up into the camera.
     
    “ Survive.”
     
     
     
     
     

6
     
     
     
    With that the TV went blank, and the screen turned into a warning system of striped colours. The silence in our little home was overwhelming and I wanted to say something to break it, but didn’t. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would mean anything, and since screaming hysterically was out of the question, I was out of options.
     
    Dan stood, drawing our attention. “That’s it then, I’m headed back to my place.”
     
    “ What?” Sebastian asked. “You can’t get out of here alive, there’s no way you’ll make it.”
     
    He strolled to the back door, ignoring Sebastian’s assessment, glancing over his shoulder at us. “There’s a back trail, goes up and around, it’s a great view of the ocean at the top. I think these things . . .”
     
    “ Nevermores,” I said softly.
     
    Dan nodded at me. “These Nevermores seem to be sticking to the main routes right now, so if you come to my place, come the back way. I’ll put a red flag next to it. Other than that, plant a garden, grow yourself some food, mend your fences, and keep quiet.”
     
    He put his hand on the door and I grabbed the back of his grubby shirt. “Hey, you can’t just leave us here.”
     
    Dan laughed and half turned back to me. “You city folk are going to be the first to die off—not prepared, no survival instinct.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “You might make it; you got some good reflexes on you.”
     
    Sebastian stepped up and I didn’t let go of Dan. “You could help us. At least we could be working together,” I said.
     
    Again Dan laughed. “I don’t work with anybody, it ain’t my style. Too much drama when you get more than one person in a room.”
     
    “ So,” Sebastian said, “We’re supposed to be grateful you showed up for a belated house warming, and you didn’t even bring us a gift? You happen to visit in the middle of a crisis where you don’t even help? I don’t know why you bothered at all.”
     
    I let go of Dan’s coat, feeling my own anger build. What the hell