text: “Surge of unknown virus with flu-like symptoms flood America.” Gregory Peterson, whose attention was so fixated onto the TV, failed to acknowledge that Doug was trying to get his attention. Doug cupped his mouth and leaned in Gregory’s ear. “Houston to Gregory, do you copy?” Greg jumped in his seat, and aggressively shoved Greg. “What is it?” “You really think it’s this shit?” Doug motioned towards the coffee table besides them, where a stack of comic books laid in disarray. One of the comic book covers featured a woman grabbing at her gas mask, which in itself seems to be cracking and melting, with the title saying “PROJECT DOOMSDAY”. “It’s almost too accurate...” “Please Greg, it’s a damn comic book. This thing will blow over in a few days anyway.” Doug tore open the comic, and pointed at a man tearing at his face, which appeared to be boiling and flaking. Everyone else stared in horror as this horrific scene took place, questioning what was happening. “I mean, this shit can’t happen to people. Trust me dude, it’s just another flu. Some sniffles, a bad headache, and it’s over.” Greg grabbed the comic book and flipped back a few pages, where the man is shown coughing and complaining about a fever. “That’s why no one suspected a thing. It seemed like a normal cold, and then it builds and builds until-” Greg flipped back to the page of the boiling skin. Doug threw the comic back on the table. “You’ve got to get yourself together dude. Promise me you’ll stop overthinking this and be normal again for God’s sake. I mean, Ted’s coming over with pizza, and-” Greg got off the couch and made his way to his bedroom nearby. Doug sighed and shook his head. “What are you doing dude?” “Ted who went to fucking UCLA? Do you know how many cases there probably are over there? Jesus Christ dude, at least give me a fucking heads up!” Greg pulled out a homemade hazmat suit made up of aluminum foil and plastic and started to dress himself up in it. “You’re not wearing that.” “The virus can’t penetrate aluminum foil or plastic, so I had to combine the two for maximum-” “Take it off dude. Don’t be fucking weird.” Greg finished up and put his finger on Doug’s chest. “I’m not taking any chances with this thing.” “You’re making me want to take this meet-up somewhere else.” “Good. Then when people start to fucking burn up from the inside-out you’ll see how serious this thing really is.” “It’s a comic book!” “It’s been right so far!” There is a knock on the door. “Did somebody order pizza?” It was Ted. Greg and Doug look at each other for a moment, a moment of tense silence passes. “Take off that damn thing or so help me God-” “You were a good friend to me Doug. I want to let you know that.” And with that, Doug left the room, and Greg soon followed. “Hey spaceman. You want to take off the suit so we can see you?” Greg shook his head. The news quietly played in the background as they ate their pizza in uncomfortable silence. “So Ted, how’s California?” “Oh dude, it’s awesome. I think it’s safe to say my acting career is starting to look-” Ted violently coughs. Greg tenses up. “Still got that cough, huh?” “Yeah. I don’t know dude, I woke up today with a horrible headache and shit to. I think I might be coming down with something.” “But hey, respect for you coming over here dude.” “Hell yeah dude. I wouldn’t miss this for the-” Ted coughs again, and this time blood and mucus spurt out. “That’s new.” “Jeez dude, do you need anything or-” Ted coughs again, coughs which then turn into vomit. Doug gets up from the couch and motions to Greg. “Greg, do something!” Greg does nothing, but watch in horror as Ted collapses to the ground as the vomit turns more dark red with each second. Then, and Greg goes into his room to pack up some things in a backpack, he hears Ted start to scream. Ted claws at his face as if he is trying to get something out of him. His skin starts to boil, and blood oozes from his lips. “Help me!” Doug pulls out his phone and calls for help. Greg grabs his comics, and makes his way out of the living room. “What do I do?” “I’m sorry dude. I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do.” Greg turns and leaves. The news covers someone burning in the streets as everyone around him screams in terror and calls for help. “9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” Doug hangs up, and sits on the couch. He watches Ted slowly die in front of him. “Please Doug. Do something!” Tears well up in Doug’s eyes, and Ted screams bloody murder as he writhes in pain, accompanied with an unpleasant projectile of vomit every few seconds. Then soon enough, he stops moving, laying in a pile in blood, vomit, and melted skin. That’s when Doug starts to cough. Greg gets in his car and reads the end of a comic book. The final panel shows the name of a town, and a “To Be Continued” over a black background. After some Googling, Greg finds that this is halfway across the country. Greg thinks about the journey ahead of him, and what he will have to do to survive. He looks at his house one more time. “Goodbye Doug.” He turns on the radio, and tunes it to a talk show where the people give updates on the virus that has swept the country. How it has spread across the world at an alarming rate. How no one knows where it came from. Or how much time we have left. And with a somber sigh, Greg puts the car in drive and prepares himself for the journey ahead.