Daylight had broken.
Brian and Sarah rose early and prepared to head out.
Osborne planned to try contacting his old friend to report what had happened in Austin, but the RV needed someone to watch it, so Kelly stayed behind.
They left the factory lot and stepped onto the streets.
Though it wasn’t even 7 AM yet, the sidewalks were already packed.
Survivors living in tents across the city had all emerged, streaming toward the central district to claim their meager rations.
Brian studied the crowd, then squeezed Sarah’s hand to keep from losing her.
Following the route Antoine had described the night before, he led them in the opposite direction of the human tide.
“Freedom!
Democracy!
Rights!
The Economy!” “Freedom is the foundation of everything!” “Quarantine is worse than the virus!” “Fear is the only real contagion!” As they crossed a long street, a group of protesters marched into view, hoisting signs and chanting with fervent passion.
On the side of the road, dozens of people knelt with their hands clasped, muttering prayers.
A woman at their center held up a blackboard reading: This plague is the devil’s punishment.
Faith in God will protect you from the virus.
Police and passersby watched with cold indifference.
No one paid special attention.
This had become routine.
Brian found the scene absurd.
It reminded him of something he’d heard in his past life: Before we can defeat the virus, we have to defeat stupidity.
Once the marchers passed, they crossed the street and continued asking for directions.
After nearly an hour of walking, they found the address Herman had given them.
A four-story residential building.
They climbed to the third floor, confirmed the apartment number, and knocked three times.
No answer.
He knocked again.
A woman’s nervous voice came from inside.
“Who is it?” “Hello.
Does Herman live here?” A pause.
The peephole darkened as someone looked through it.
Then the door opened a crack, still held by a chain lock.
A gaunt middle-aged woman peered at them through the gap.
“What do you want with him?” Brian guessed this was Herman’s daughter, June—the woman who’d written the letter back at the lakeside house.
He held up the scrap of paper with the address.
“Herman gave us this address.
We met him in Austin.
We just arrived in Dallas yesterday and wanted to ask him about the situation here.
Is he home?” June took the paper, read it, then turned and called into the apartment.
“Dad!
There are two kids here looking for you.
You’d better come see.” “Kids?” Footsteps hurried across the floor.
A moment later, a white-haired old man appeared in the gap.
It was Herman.
“Brian!
Sarah!” His face lit up.
He fumbled with the chain lock, swung the door open, and waved them inside.
“Come in, come in!” They stepped into a modest three-bedroom apartment.
Barely furnished.
Empty shelves.
The family clearly wasn’t doing well.
Herman ushered them to the living room and started asking rapid-fire questions.
When had they arrived?
Did they have a place to stay?
They could stay with him if they needed to.
Brian noticed June’s brow furrow slightly at her father’s offer.
She didn’t object, but her discomfort was clear.
He understood.
Resources were tight.
He declined the offer politely.
They weren’t here to be a burden.
He explained what he wanted to know—information about Dallas, any way to get out, anything useful.
Herman collected his thoughts and began.
“The whole country is on edge.
A lot of cities have stopped accepting outsiders altogether.
Dallas only stays open because it’s closest to the infection zones and needs to process survivors.
But I’ve heard the city’s reaching capacity.
The military is talking about trucking people to other cities.
That might be your only way out.
Otherwise, you’re stuck until this is over.” Until this is over.
Brian didn’t have the heart to tell Herman that “over” might never come.
He didn’t know about the purge orders, about the military’s real plans.
He still believed the government would find a cure.
Brian listened, cross-referencing everything with what Antoine had told him.
He started to build a clear picture of life inside Dallas.
But one thing Herman mentioned stuck with him.
After taking control of Dallas, the military had cordoned off the entire western industrial district, seized all the factories, and started building walls.
No one knew why.
Rumors swirled.
Brian understood.
Even if the government couldn’t stop the infection, they weren’t going to sit idle.
They were preparing for the long haul.
Seizing industrial infrastructure was the first step.
Satisfied with what he’d learned, and with Herman promising to ask around about leaving Dallas, Brian thanked him and left with Sarah.
On the way back, they passed a hospital.
A nurse handed him a flyer.
It was an informational pamphlet about the Cordyceps virus.
He started reading.
CDC Awareness Guide: Cordyceps Brain Infection (CBI) — Prevention and Information Background: Cordyceps is a parasitic fungus that takes over a host’s mind and alters its behavior.
Until recently, it only infected insects and arthropods.
A new strain has adapted to infect humans.
Transmission: Two known routes of CBI infection: Inhalation of spores released by Cordyceps.Contact with bodily fluids from an infected individual, most commonly through bites.
Incubation: After infection, the parasite moves to the host’s brain within one to two days.
Once the Cordyceps has taken control of all major bodily functions, the incubation period ends.
Symptoms: Stage One: Abnormal behavior, violent tendencies, attacks on those nearby.The fungus eventually bursts through host tissue, releasing spores into the air.
Treatment: No vaccine exists.
No known method can extend the incubation period.
Diagnosis: CBI can be detected through blood tests and microscopic scans (typically of the ear).
Tests show positive results within minutes of infection.
Brian absorbed the information.
It painted a clearer picture of the enemy they were facing.
Then he looked up.
People on the street had started running.
Even the protesters had broken formation, scattering toward nearby residential buildings.
The marchers were going home.
Something was wrong.
Brian didn’t wait to find out what.
He grabbed Sarah’s hand and sprinted back toward the factory lot.
When they arrived, he found a crowd of survivors packed around a single television set, cursing and shouting in anger and fear.
Brian rushed to the RV.
Osborne and Kelly were already outside, watching the same broadcast on Antoine’s TV.
He stepped up beside them without a word and stared at the screen.
A female news anchor was speaking.
As he listened to the report, one thing became brutally clear.
This country was already beyond saving.
The end of the world had begun.
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