<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-weight: bold">May 20, 2025 1100 hours</span></span></span></span><br/>Joe flipped the channels on the Television set. He was getting no signals from the ABC and NBC stations in New York City. There wasn't even the broadcast signal depicting an image that something was wrong. It was just the snowy static image one may have seen on a television set fifty years ago after the station went off the air at midnight. But this was 2025 and stations don't go off the air. It raised a red flag in Joe's head. He flipped over to Channel 12 Westchester in northern Yonkers.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">'Beaking News' in bold letters across the bottom of the screen. A reporter was shown holding a microphone, "I am standing on a high rise on Doctor Martin Luther King Highway in the Bronx looking south into what was once Lower Manhattan. From this vantage point near the Cross Bronx Expressway I can see the destruction that was once the city of New York. Military and Law enforcement agencies in New Jersey and Westchester County have been alerted to a possible pandemic resulting from this explosion that occurred in Lower Manhattan around ten this morning. We have been told the authorities are doing everything they can to contain this situation. They advise that anyone living in the tri-state area to refrain from going into the city. The New York National Guard has been alerted. They caution, that whatever has caused the situation, will most likely affect anyone entering the city." The reporter stopped for a moment to listen to a feed in his ear. "I was just notified that the Center for Disease Control, known as the CDC has alerted that a biological hazard exists inside Manhattan and warns that anyone attempting to enter the city will become affected by whatever this biological hazard is."<br/><br/>As the reporter chattered on about this recent disaster eliminating the City of New York from the planet and killing millions or infecting them with some unknown biological hazard, two individuals, a man and a woman clambered close, within the screen of the camera display. The man grabbed at the News reporter and lunged for his throat. He bit the man, sinking his teeth into the reporter's jugular, causing an arterial spurt. The camera man barely aware of what was going on, was tackled by the woman and knocked to the ground. The camera fell in such a manner that it presented a sideways image of the reporter laying helpless on the building roof while the man gorged himself on the recently deceased.</span><br/><br/>Joe stared in disbelief at the horror show he just witnessed on live television from The Bronx. He tried to phone his wife at Mt. Sinai and his daughters at school in Manhattan. He never got through...<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Today</span></span></span></span><br/>It has been several weeks since that day in May. Joe Filion, his son, Joe Junior and daughter, Theresa equipped themselves for the new way of life. After the reports from the city, they were able to secure chemical protective masks from a local army-navy surplus store. They stocked the ice chest in the mini-van with food and other non-perishable canned goods were tossed into the back. Camping gear, sleeping bags and whatever survival gear they could find were loaded up.<br/><br/>"Dad, do you think there is a chance mom is still alive?" Theresa asked her father in feigned hope.<br/><br/>Joe stared ahead as they drove south towards the Bronx. Joe shook his head no.<br/><br/>"Give it a rest, Terry," Joe Junior interjected. "You know as well as I do, there is no way, Lily, Bella or mom could have survived that blast. It is just the three of us. We need to stick together."<br/><br/>Theresa sat back in her seat. She fiddled with the shotgun laying across her lap. Joe looked down at the shotgun.  "Why don't you point that thing out the window?" He stated while motioning with his right hand, finger extended as if indicating the window next to her. Joe picked up the cue and pointed his M4 out the second row passenger seat behind his dad. They all knew by now there was a very good chance they could run into some undesirables. Afterall, they were heading south on 22 just reaching Mount Vernon.<br/><br/>Joe hated getting close to the city, but sometimes there were better caches of supplies in the Bronx even today than in nearby New Rochelle or even White Plains for that matter. Apparently the affected individuals who survived the explosion in the City didn't need supplies.