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Finishing his first slice and reaching for another, David was the first to comment.

"Many roads in the city are blocked by traffic jams. People are attacking others for some reason. The national guard was called in, but they're taking care of perimeter cities first. Uh... hospital is off limits. Power's still going. Probably not a terrorist attack, I think we're dealing with something else. Not that anyone knows what that is."

Taking a drink of the dew, Marty chuckled, looking at the others and shrugging. "Well, the datacenter burned down, fire department seems to be lazy, and the pizza was a good idea." Smiling, he went through the very short and very quick process of stuffing another slice into his mouth.

Liz nodded slowly as everyone shared their stories.
She lowered her eyes apologetically and sipped her water at David's story.
At Scotty's story, she listened with concern, narrowing her eyes and twirling her water bottle. Her gaze drifted back to his ear: she noted the distinct smooth tear and the lack of teeth marks and rested easier, but still kept her eyes on him.
Her eyes widened in worry at Marty's story as she silently thanked his luck.

When everyone had spoken, she set her water down and leaned back in her chair, taking a slow, steady breath-
"Okay, I dont' think I'm quite allowed to tell you this, but, given the situation, HIPAA can suck it. So, stuff in a piece of pie, this might take longer."

She felt like one of those people at support groups who listened to tragedy only half heartedly, waiting inpatiently for her turn to speak.

It didn't feel like it was her who was explaining her experiences at the hospital with the various stages. It felt like she was the mandatory medical character in a cheap zombie flick-only instead of zombies, they were facing brain damaged, adrenaline filled psychopaths.

She went over some patients, giving them only letter-names and assuring her friends their ages, sexes, and races varied, and that no type seemed spared if they were Homo sapiens.
Patient A had reported severe depression for months, then suddenly developed anger management issues as well as violent tendencies. He was sedated and kept placid, until around 15 hours after his mood change, he went catatonic for an hour. He was admitted to the psych ward, where, at the end of an hour and the end of the sedatives, he rose without speaking and bit the nearest nurse on the neck.

Patient B went through the same stages, only he had to be detained with restraints. Yet, despite an extra dose of sedatives, his eyes snapped open around the 15 hour mark as he went catatonic, then, after an hour, he simply broke his restraints and bit a young girl.

Patient C went through the same stages, as did patients, D, E, F, and G-X.

Then today, she explained, it seemed as if there were so many patients with those symptoms, as well as their family members who had been bitten, that her lettering system failed her.

When she finished, she tied in all her findings with the recent events around town, from Mad Max to Scotty's roommate, though as far as the men who attacked her and David, she couldn't tell if they were simply caught up in the chaos or 'infected'. Infection was the only word she could use to describe it, as it was contagious.

Her cell phone rang-she picked it up apprehensively after checking the number, then immediately shut it, shoving it in her pocket angrily and returning to nursing her water. Her left arm throbbed.

"So. What do we do now?"

Putting down the last half of his third slice of pizza, David found his appetite quickly leaving him.

His thoughts were blazing and chaotic, for how quiet he became. For those who knew him, and knew the distant look in his eyes, they would know how hard he was thinking. Scotty would probably think it was mild shock.

Several dozen people were raged and attacking people, that I alone saw today. This is happening outside the city, too. We're going to be without backup.

He got out his cell-phone, dialed three digits, and received no answer. He closed it.

Police are no show. Need to defend ourselves. Need to protect ourselves.

15 hours after they go nuts, they sleep for an hour, then start biting people. Most of this started at 3. Will have to wait until after... uh... 6 am for a window of safety. Can't get far in an hour on foot, and roads were all blocked everywhere. Even if they weren't, the outside cities are in chaos too.

They resist sedation. What kind of sedation? Brain-relaxers are use most often, right?

He broke the silence, staring at Liz. "What was used to sedate Patient B?"

Glancing at Scotty, then Dave, Marty came to yet more conclusions, entirely seperate from the others. "Best chance for physical defense we have is a large group. Best chance for survival is probably as a small group, though. Less of us to worry about leaving behind, less food we need to carry on our backs. We could hole ourselves up here, but the place, like most places like this, has a few issues. If we are going to hole up somewhere, it's gotta be a place more secure than here. That means Something with solid, secure doors, and some backup power. First place I'd suggest is a datacenter. Two entrances, normally, no more. Secure. But we'd have to bring our own food, and this pizza isn't gonna last forever. The other problem is that it may be TOO secure. The only one still surviving that I have access to doesn't exactly allow you guys access very readily."

With a sigh, he continued. "We could try to make a run for it. I'm not a big fan of running away, but I'm not a big fan of charging out to die, either. Chances are, we'd have to storm something or other eventually if we stayed here, and if they aren't dead yet, then we would be shortly thereafter. We need a basic plan of survival before we go out doing anything crazy, though. How are we going to run this bad horror flick? Stay in, hold out against the storm, or strike out, move during the days or nights, and get as far from population centers as we can?"

After a moment, he chuckled. "Hey, do they sleep?" With enough thrown out, he dug once more into the pizza, to feed his voracious appetite. And to store in case it was a while before he had fresh food again. Well, relatively fresh, considering the pizza.

Liz nodded at David's musing, adding in her own soft spoken observation,
"It just made them relax enough to not attack."

She listened to Marty's monologue as well, her face turning pale in worry. She addressed David, though, instead,
"Walmart would be too obvious. If people start looting that'd be the first place they'd strike. Plus it's too big. If we have to raid ourselves, if we have to resort to that, then we'd be better off raiding smaller stores and abandoned houses."

Her stomach twisted in her gut. She had to eat something, even if she felt this naseous. Yet she choked on her piece when David mentioned nuking the town,
"...It's a um. Um. A neurovirus. Like rabies. And no, they don't sleep. They don't need to sleep. They don't even notice wounds past the 8 hour mark, so I imagine they're going to look fairly nasty if people start beating on them. It's horrid. All these people who need medical attention badly and we can't do a goddamned thing."

She continued, addressing the last thing he said, "...we could move around 6 am, yeah. That'd be best. Most of them would have stopped, and those that are in the rage stage would be attacking..." she stopped, and set her pizza down, "...I'm not hungry anymore."

Marty grimaced, looking at Dave almost as if hurt. "You expect us to defend a place just as you described? How many are in here, already a danger to us? How many like us, but with someone who was bit, who is going to turn on them during the night? How many entrances are there? As much as it is a veritable shopping center of non-perishables, I don't fancy carrying a generator up here. And we don't know if they climb yet. That balcony may be the death of us. Why not head to somewhere a little more defensible until we can be sure we know what our enemies are capable of? I just can't shake the feeling we are going to build bunkers full of firebats, expecting zerglings, when the enemy is waiting to fly past them with mutas, you know?"

As odd as it sounded, and despite the straight face, something about his attitude gave off a bit of light-heartedness. Sure, they were probably going to die. Sure, it would likely be horrible, with screaming and clawing and bloody death everywhere. But they had pizza and pop, it couldn't be all bad, could it?