years, he’d never seen data that looked like the stuff on his phone. This was new, different. Will hadn’t eaten at a place like this in ten or fifteen years, not after he decided that age wasn’t going to slow him down—or at least not as much as it wanted to. Now, though, age didn’t matter. Looking around at the people in here, he didn’t think it mattered what he put into his body. Slop from diners, cigarettes, or a bullet. Everything in this town was going to end the same way and sooner rather than later.
Whatever infection had come to this place, whatever made that data, it wasn’t something that could be allowed to survive—nor could anyone that even chanced contact with it.
Will pulled out a newspaper from his bag and laid it down across the table. He read it while he waited for his food, and when it came, he folded up the paper and ate in silence.
----
W ill rented a large truck , a newer model, one that could handle whatever he needed to do in this town. Grayson, Georgia. He liked the name, it sounded…quaint, he supposed. It sounded like a place to raise a family.
Will parked the truck at the edge of the forest, leaving the lights blazing. He put on his vest while still in the cab, picking up his lantern with his left hand and the pistol with his right. He stepped out of the truck and nudged the door closed with his elbow. He let the lantern illuminate the darkness around him while he walked across the grass, his eyes down.
He looked at the dirt and grass carefully, his eyes focusing on the bend in the blades, looking for anything that said someone might have been here recently. He took an hour canvassing the entire field, walking in rows like corn grew here instead of grass. Quite a few times he squatted down, bringing the lantern closer to what he wanted to see. He would move his hand across the grass, and stare for a few minutes, then stand up and continue his progress.
At the end of the hour, he went back to his truck and stood in front of it, the lights shining deep into the forest. People had been here, recently. A lot of people, and then at some point, a smaller group. Maybe even one person. The tracks that led up to the forest line, two pairs of tracks, showing him that the infection most likely wasn’t contained. Every other car that parked here stayed up on the hill, but twice someone had driven down here to where Will stood. And for what reason? To see what was in these woods, the same as him.
Will started walking, moving through the brambles and dead pine needles. He kept the gun holstered as he walked, sure that he would be quick enough getting it out and up if he needed, but also sure that it would do little good. Humans, Earth animals in general, were fragile creatures. It was amazing that so many species had managed to progress for so long. Infections, though, weren’t as fragile. A bullet, in most cases, did no more damage than a strong wind. He kept it on him though, because…well, just in case. There were other things he could use against infections, of course, but that wasn’t his job. He was recon. He was containment. He was the first on the ground, and the first on the ground brought pistols, not real weapons. Will hadn’t started out wanting to be containment or killer, but in time he had been both.
He kept walking for a while, becoming more and more sure with each step that whatever had been here forty-eight hours ago wasn’t here any longer. Infections, they often times gave off something. He didn’t like calling it telepathy, because that was an Earthly trait. They gave off their infection, and you didn’t have to be right up on one to start catching it. Will didn’t feel that now though. Something had been here, but not any longer. The wood was dark, quiet, and still. Peaceful, as if the danger had passed from this place.
His lantern’s power showed him the black, scorched ground a hundred feet from it. He didn’t stop when he saw the black area, but kept
Whatever infection had come to this place, whatever made that data, it wasn’t something that could be allowed to survive—nor could anyone that even chanced contact with it.
Will pulled out a newspaper from his bag and laid it down across the table. He read it while he waited for his food, and when it came, he folded up the paper and ate in silence.
----
W ill rented a large truck , a newer model, one that could handle whatever he needed to do in this town. Grayson, Georgia. He liked the name, it sounded…quaint, he supposed. It sounded like a place to raise a family.
Will parked the truck at the edge of the forest, leaving the lights blazing. He put on his vest while still in the cab, picking up his lantern with his left hand and the pistol with his right. He stepped out of the truck and nudged the door closed with his elbow. He let the lantern illuminate the darkness around him while he walked across the grass, his eyes down.
He looked at the dirt and grass carefully, his eyes focusing on the bend in the blades, looking for anything that said someone might have been here recently. He took an hour canvassing the entire field, walking in rows like corn grew here instead of grass. Quite a few times he squatted down, bringing the lantern closer to what he wanted to see. He would move his hand across the grass, and stare for a few minutes, then stand up and continue his progress.
At the end of the hour, he went back to his truck and stood in front of it, the lights shining deep into the forest. People had been here, recently. A lot of people, and then at some point, a smaller group. Maybe even one person. The tracks that led up to the forest line, two pairs of tracks, showing him that the infection most likely wasn’t contained. Every other car that parked here stayed up on the hill, but twice someone had driven down here to where Will stood. And for what reason? To see what was in these woods, the same as him.
Will started walking, moving through the brambles and dead pine needles. He kept the gun holstered as he walked, sure that he would be quick enough getting it out and up if he needed, but also sure that it would do little good. Humans, Earth animals in general, were fragile creatures. It was amazing that so many species had managed to progress for so long. Infections, though, weren’t as fragile. A bullet, in most cases, did no more damage than a strong wind. He kept it on him though, because…well, just in case. There were other things he could use against infections, of course, but that wasn’t his job. He was recon. He was containment. He was the first on the ground, and the first on the ground brought pistols, not real weapons. Will hadn’t started out wanting to be containment or killer, but in time he had been both.
He kept walking for a while, becoming more and more sure with each step that whatever had been here forty-eight hours ago wasn’t here any longer. Infections, they often times gave off something. He didn’t like calling it telepathy, because that was an Earthly trait. They gave off their infection, and you didn’t have to be right up on one to start catching it. Will didn’t feel that now though. Something had been here, but not any longer. The wood was dark, quiet, and still. Peaceful, as if the danger had passed from this place.
His lantern’s power showed him the black, scorched ground a hundred feet from it. He didn’t stop when he saw the black area, but kept
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