Allie sleeplessly stared at the clock ticking on the wall of her kitchen as the snow continued to flurry outside her closed windows. It was hard to see with the lights out, but her guess was that it was a little past noon or maybe a little before. Her son Tyson was still sleeping upstairs in his room, soundly despite the terror of the previous day.
Allie had picked him up early from school and they had stopped at a local supermarket when a man in a bloody shirt attacked a family next to her and ripped the mother's throat out when she tried to shield her children from him. In the chaos that followed she quickly scooped up her son and ran to the car before the entire store began to riot.
On the way home they had passed a few nightmarish sights and sounds, but arrived safely just as the snow began to pick up and coat their yard in a fresh blanket of white. The rest of that day had been spent trying to console her son and keeping an eye on the news for any clue as to what was happening.
Unfortunately, whatever had happened, be it a terrorist attack or some sort of pandemic, wasn't widespread enough to get more than a mention on a local channel that advised residents to stay indoors amid rioting and attacks in the street. Allie had tried phoning friends and relatives to see what was going on, but no one had a clue.
About the only positive to this situation was that the power was still on in most suburbs and that the cold weather helped deter whatever was walking around outside from finding them. Of course, that wouldn't mean much if help didn't arrive soon.
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