End Chapter 1, Beginning of 2:

Cont.....“Well, we’re almost…down.” The plane landed and came screeching to a halt.
Katrina opened her eyes and braced herself on the seat in front of her.

When the plane came to a final stop the passengers started to stir. Chris stood up to let Katrina through. She reached for her backpack wedged at the back of the over-head compartment. At five foot she was too short to reach so Chris—more afraid the backpack was heavier than Katrina-- immediately stood up to grab it. Katrina took it from him and threw it over her right shoulder with ease. “Thank you” she averted his gaze feeling embarrassed to appear so weak.

When they were in the terminal he ran up beside Katrina. He was surprised how small she looked standing beside his six-foot, one hundred and seventy pound frame. “Do you have family or someone picking you up?”
“No. Mama doesn’t have a car. Do you want to share one?”
“Um, No I don’t think that would be the smart thing to do since we’re going to the same place.” Chris and Katrina smiled at each other.
“Well, I’m not 25 yet, so there’s the extra insurance if I get it, but—“
“Oh, yeah, don’t worry, I’ll get it.” Chris replied.
“I’ll give you cash.”
“Yeah. No problem.”
They arrived at baggage claim and there was an awkward pause in the conversation. Katrina decided to vacate.
“OK, well, I’ll just go wait out front since I already have my bag.”
“Alright. I’ll meet you outside.”
Without anymore conversation Katrina walked out the doors and Chris walked over to the turnstile. Everything Katrina had been saying was starting to sink in; The dead alive…infected? What have I got myself into? She had to have been pulling my leg. I’ll get to the bottom of it when we get there. Chris couldn’t stop pondering the possible definitions as he was waiting for his suitcase to come. His heart-rate rose noticeably. What could it mean? Zombies? Impossible. She said ‘hungry’--Vampires? Somehow even more impossible! Chris watched his suitcase coast past him already turning around the corner.
“Shit!” He ran up to it and pulled it onto the ground. As he pulled the bag up and over his shoulder, his eyes followed a pair of legs like twin towers. They were the longest, most slender legs and they were walking away from him. As his eyes followed the legs up farther, he noticed the body attached to them. A plaid skirt was bouncing off her butt; just barely keeping it PG. Her top looked like something from Gap Kids. She had natural blond hair that almost reached her elbows and swam across her back with each step. Chris could only imagine how beautiful she could be. She walked through the doors with no luggage. It was the late girl from his plane. He composed himself and walked to the car rental booth.






2.
Chris pulled the small compact car up to the waiting area. His eyes searched for the small frame and dark hair he now knew as Katrina. Once he spotted her he pulled along the curb close to where she was waiting. She was not-so-elegantly smoking a cigarette; pulling the cigarette from her lips resembled pulling a dagger from her throat before she spit the smoke out of her mouth a few seconds later. Chris put his palm faced down on the horn when he noticed the slender blonde from the airplane and baggage claim walk up to Katrina. She was just as beautiful as he imagined. Her features were perfectly proportioned as if Mattel modeled Barbie after her. He waited long enough to see Katrina give the blonde a cigarette, they exchanged a few words and the conversation ended quickly with a small hug. Katrina looked like she was in pain; her eyes were squeezed shut and her body was very stiff. She knows her? Chris wondered before he realized: She did say there were a few of the evacuated on the flight.
When the Blonde left, Katrina looked around for Chris. Trying to be a gentleman and not wanting to draw attention to the fact he had been sitting in his car watching their personal exchange, he stepped out of the car and walked towards Katrina, she gave a wave and picked up her backpack.
“No, no, don’t worry about it; I got it!” Chris hurried towards her and grabbed the bag from her grasp.
“I wish you’d stop doing that. I can carry it. But thanks.” She threw her cigarette on the ground and squashed it like a poisonous bug.
Chris threw her bag in the trunk and they proceeded on their way. “The car company gave me a map but I assume you might know your way a bit better?”
“Not really to be honest.” She took the map from him. “I didn’t leave the Forest Hills area all that often.”
“Oh, OK.” Chris opened her door for her before hopping into the driver’s seat.
Katrina switched on the radio and started flipping through the stations until she found one that satisfied her taste. She sat back in her seat and watched the passing landscape.
“So, how old were you when you were evacuated?” Not a direct point, but he figured he would start off easy.

Katrina moved her eyes from the flat landscape and looked straight ahead at the road. “I was eighteen when everything started, but I wasn’t evacuated until I turned nineteen, six months later.”
“Oh, So your twenty two?”
“You sound surprised!” She acknowledged.
“Well, honestly I thought you were a lot younger than that.”
“Hmmm, well I suppose I can take that as a compliment. How old are you Chris? I know you’re at least 25.”
He liked that she used his name. “I’ll be twenty six in a few days” They needed to get back to the subject at hand.
“So when did you graduate then? How long have you been trying to be a journalist for?” Katrina was not helping.
“I just graduated last year, but it wasn’t anything special and I wasn’t top of the class or anything. Technically I’m not a journalist. I went to school for Business Management. I needed a job and my dad knows a guy who has started a small entertainment type newspaper. There are only a few writers on the paper. I was lucky because I’ve known him since I was little. The bad part is that everyone in the office knows it. I practically had to kiss the chief’s ass just to get this story and prove I’m not there on a favor.”
“Hmm.” She started pulling at loose threads on the hem of her shirt.
“OK, so what happened to you? You can’t just leave me hanging with a ‘dead-undead’ situation. What does that mean?”
After an excruciating long pause:
“Alright.” She finally said. “I’ll tell you what I know but it happened so fast and I haven’t exactly tried or wanted to remember.” She took a deep breath. “I was evacuated when the death toll reached just under half of Forest Hills. The infection continued on for almost two years after that, but it was dwindled down to only a newly infected person once or twice a month.”
“How did they get it under control?”
“The people that I told you about, that patrolled the streets and went into the forest to find the infected—they took care of them.”
“What did the watchmen do with them when they found them?”
“Killed them.” Katrina cleared her throat.
“But, you said that technically they were still alive. Isn’t that murder?”
“They were still alive in the sense that they could be drowned, burned, starved to dead or shot. What ever would kill a normal person. They had a disease that no normal human should be able to live on, let alone walk around and kill people. So no, it wasn’t murder. And the town decided it was our only option for prevention.” She paused for a second to take her sunglasses out of her backpack. “Besides, there isn’t much you can do help when they get into that state.”

“They couldn’t quarantine it before it spread past say: ten?” He asked.
“It was already too late. And half the time people didn’t know they were infected. Everything happened so quickly. Once it got into public places like schools and hospitals it wasn’t long before all the people were infected.”
Chris tried to swallow the lump out of his throat but it didn’t seem to go down. “How…how did you know if you were infected?”
“You could be transformed in minutes if you were attacked viciously or if you bitten or something you would start to feel the symptoms within twenty four hours. But if the person just scratched you and they weren’t obviously infected, it could take you weeks to show any symptoms—if you got any at all. Now, I know your next question is going to be ‘what are the symptoms exactly and what do you become’.” Katrina rubbed her face and in one swift motion pulled her hair back and fastened it with a clip. “First of all, you become something… something not alive, or certainly far from an alive human being. Like a Zombie. .”
Chris threw a quick glance at her to see if she was joking. Katrina noticed and read the look. “Like I said you’d be better off to talk to an actual Doctor. The best way I can describe it is from the conversation I over-heard from my parents when they were talking about my younger cousin. She got infected in the very beginning.”
Katrina looked at Chris, her eyes rhetorically asking if he wanted her to continue.

Chapter 1 cont. part 3

...“You want my help don’t you.”
“Um, yes. Yes I do.” Chris smiled at her.
“Well I wouldn’t normally be so willing, but since this story has some how been covered up, I would like it to get out too. I will help you Chris!” She stuck out her hand. Chris shook it excitedly.
“Thank you. So then, you’re coming back from Colorado and you’re from Forest Hills? That must mean--”
“Yes. There was a facility there where they took people that tested positive for the infection, but didn’t transform or have any symptoms.”
“Transform?”
“Yes. Once the infection was strong enough in a person’s body, it slowly made them turn into something. Something crazy. Something that looked dead but was still alive and constantly hungry.”
Chris was a little nervous to learn anymore. “Uh huh, more on that later. So you were infected?”
“Am infected. It’s under control though. You don’t have to worry.”
“I assume when you say ‘under control’ you mean with medication. What would happen if you weren’t on it?”
“Probably nothing too extreme. I don’t think the infection can grow anymore in me. I have a few symptoms, but nothing like what the transformed would go through.”
“How many were only half infected?”
“Only a handful. There’s a few of us on this plane and a few decided to stay in Colorado because they had nothing left in Forest Hills. No family. No friends.” Katrina gazed out the window.
“Did it spread outside of the town?” Chris asked.
“Luckily no. But people outside the town heard about it and refuse to go near Forest Hills now. It was bad for business.”
“Business?”
“Yup. Way back in the day my family started the first logging company. They made their first profit on the area they logged just to make the town. People in the industry came for work and never left. All the homes there are historical and there’s no need to build anymore, there’s no expansion. But, my dad was tired of running the company and had enough money to live for a long time, so he sold the company to the Dawes family who keeps the company running to this day.”
The stewardess came around and gave Chris and Katrina a coffee.
“So how is it that this story hasn’t gotten out yet?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know. But when we got taken to Colorado, I’m certain the government had something to do with it. The town mayor had been trying to get help into the town but no one would come. It wasn’t a matter of importance I guess. Up until half the residence were gone, and the military finally came, locals were taking care of it; patrolling the streets, going into the forest where the infected would hide during the day. They made a living out of it.” Katrina took a long gulp of coffee. “Smaller newspapers in Kentucky published the story, but they made it sound less important than it was so no one picked up on it.”
“What about the people treating you in Colorado?”
“What about them? They were doctors. They already had the drug and just administered it when we needed it. We all lived in a common building with people from all over the US. It wasn’t the first time or place this has happened. Everyone had horrific stories. But somehow, the one common denominator was that it was always in a small town; never the big city.”
“Interesting. How quickly did it spread?”
“Very! Well, you know it killed three hundred people in three months!”
“I guess I mean, how quickly did it take for one to become fully infected from the time of contact?”
“Depends. Could be immediately, could be days. If you got bit on the neck, face, or blood from an infected got inside a wound, then it was quick. If you just had saliva contact, or got bit on an arm or something it would take longer if it happened at all. I don’t really know a lot since I didn’t see the whole thing through. The Forest Hills doctors would know more about it. You can talk to them when we get there.”

Katrina nonchalantly grasped the armrests preparing her for the descent into Lexington.
“Why are you so nervous of flying?” Chris asked her.
“This is only my second time in an airplane. Whenever you hear about plane crashes, the majority—of the ones I hear anyways—are always during a take off or landing.”
“Oh. Well, if it helps: your chances of being in a plane crash are less likely than being hit by thunder.”
“ You mean lightning.” She corrected.
“Yeah. You heard that one?”
“Yes, but judging by the three plane crashes in the past few months and the amount of people who died, I highly doubt that many people have been hit by lightning in that short of time.”
“I see your logic. You never know.”
“Ok, no more talking.” Katrina closed her eyes and focused inward trying to keep herself calm. She realized that she wasn’t as nervous as she thought she would be. “Tell me a joke.” Chris’ voice was soothing to her.
Chris was caught off guard. Her eyes were closed. Did she want him to speak? “Really?” He just wanted to be sure.
“Yes.”
“Um, Ok.” Chris pressed his temples trying to think. “The passengers on a plane had been waiting for the pilot and copilot to board the plane so they could take off. When they boarded, the passengers notices that both pilots had a white stick and were wearing dark glasses. The passengers realized they were blind and thought it must be some practical joke. Nothing was corrected so when the plane started to move through the runway, gaining speed, the passengers got more nervous and when they were out of runway they started screaming. The plane suddenly took off and everyone quieted. In the cockpit the copilot said: ‘you know, someday they might not scream to let you know it’s time to take off’.”
“Funny.” Katrina said.
“Well, we’re almost…down.” The plane landed and came screeching to a halt.
Katrina opened her eyes and braced herself on the seat in front of her.

Chapter 1 cont...

(If there's any confusion in the story it might be because i edited without changing the blog, but feel free to ask just incase. Enjoy.)



........Directly in front of them, Big Talker was forcing his duffel bag into the overhead compartment. Just as Chris opened his mouth to introduce himself to Katrina she shoved ear buds back in. Even though the volume was at a normal amount, he put his jaw back in place and fiddled with his seatbelt.

Katrina noticed but didn’t want to respond and look eager because she wasn’t. She watched the plane being directed to the runway, imagining what the passengers would think if the guy with the orange sticks started waving his arms frantically and yelling to the pilot. She was interrupted when a tall blonde woman struggling for breath entered the plane and the stewardess shut the door behind her. Maryanne Dawes; Katrina was hoping her parents would have hired a plane to pick her up. Maryanne was very attractive with the body every man wanted to touch and even a supermodel would dream of. She knew it and used it in many ways. Every man puffed like a peacock when they saw her. She handed her bag to the steward without thanks and sat in her business class seat.

The steward came over the intercom: “Now that we’ve finally got everyone on board and seated, we are ready to taxi to the run-way and depart for Lexington Kentucky. Once we are settled into our maximum altitude we will come around with a small drink and snack service. For now, please turn off ANY electronic devices and sit back and enjoy your short flight.”
Katrina wrapped up her Ipod, dropped it in her lap and turned to Chris. “So, Lexington. Why are you going there? Katrina by the way.”
“Chris. I’m not actually staying in Lexington. I’m renting a car from there and driving a hour or so just outside of it to some small town called Forest Hills.”

Katrina’s eyes probed into the back of his head. “Why? Are you going there?”
Chris felt attacked and didn’t know why. “to do a story on some infection there three years ago.” He waited for Katrina to lighten her features and relax. The plane started increasing speed. Katrina closed her eyes and grabbed the armrests very securely, forcing her back into the seat.
“Are you OK?” Chris asked.
Not moving anything but her lips, Katrina replied: “I just don’t like taking off or landing. Give me a minute.” As the plane banked to the right, it jerked downward. Katrina took a long inhale through her nose and squeezed the armrests with any strength she had left over.
With the plane coming into altitude, so did Katrina’s nerves. She whipped her head back at Chris. Her long dark hair swung around her right shoulder. “The infection? Is that what they’re calling it?”
Chris suddenly felt like a nervous Chihuahua around a girl only half his size. “Um, I guess…”
“I mean, there’s just not a lot of people that go there and as far as I know there hasn’t been a journalist there to report on it at all. Why interest now?” She was less riddled with anxiety more interested.
“Well, my boss--the editor-- heard about people that were returning from Colorado where they were being treated for the infection. It killed over 300 people in six months-- Half of the population of Forest HIlls. Anyways he wanted to do a story on it and hope that it’s a bigger story than everyone thinks.
“But since we’re just a small town newspaper outside New York, He didn’t want to pay for one of the writers to go there, and since I’m just the coffee bitch trying to be a journalist, he definitely didn’t want to pay for me. I paid my own way and used vacation time.”
“That’s a bold move.” Katrina flicked a piece of lint off her white jeans.
“Yeah, hopefully it will pay of for me and my boss. Why are you going to Lexington? I didn’t even ask.”
Katrina studied his face there was something calming about it. His high cheekbones, full lips and dark wavey hair were things most normal women would probably find attractive in a man. She could tell he was unaware of this. “I’m not really going there either. I’m going back home to Forest Hills. I’ve been gone for a few years.” She looked at the zipper on her jacket and smiled. She could feel that Chris staring at her speechless. “You want my help don’t you". Her eyes were soft and focused on his.

Sneek-Peek of Chapter 1 (unfinished, un-edited)

Chris re-reads the page again for the third time. Usually he finds airports to be the best place to read; they’re relatively quiet, and people watching is far better than any coffee shop or patio. However, across from him there’s a loud man who’s interpreting the people staring at him as a request to join his conversation about some ‘loser’ he works with. He raises his voice incase the old man in the terminal next over can’t hear. Chris looks up to fling another dagger at the plump, sweaty man. It’s lost on him though. Chris looks back down at the lost spot in his book and closes it in his lap. Big Talker has moved on to the subject of how most lesbian women are always unattractive, and the pretty ones are in denial. His belly ripples in his t-shirt every time he laughs. Unlike most, his southern accent is not flattering on him. The poor defenseless man that has leant his right ear to the conversation looks embarrassed and refuses to make eye contact with anyone else. Chris notices sweat starting to form on The Ear’s forehead. 'Nervous sweat' Chris thinks.
Another possible victim sits down on the left of Big Talker. Chris’ eyes climb over the mountainous belly to the newcomer. His gaze rests on a younger girl killing her eardrums with loud music. She’s playing with her IPod but senses his gaze and looks up at him through her eyelashes. Chris rolls his eyes to say: “can you believe this guy?” The Girl seems not to notice. The song she was listening to changes to something angrier and louder.

Out the terminal windows, there are planes coming in and out of the Chicago airport. He briefly wonders if he made the right decision; going to Louisiana on his own vacation time without an official request from the editor to do the piece. There’s a plane taxi’ing towards the terminal and the pilot and stewardesses are getting ready to board. The coffee has suddenly taken effect on his bladder. Now was his chance to get a couple minutes of peace before getting on the plane.

“Sweet-heart?…Sweet-heart!” Big Talker’s facing the girl with the music. She either can’t hear him or is ignoring him so he leans into her ear: “Sweet-HEART!”
Chris’ bladder can wait a minute. He remains seated and his eyes flick back and forth between The Girl and Big Talker.
Without saying anything, The Girl takes a deep breath, removes the ear bud from her ear and slowly turns her glare to Big Talker.
“Doll, yaw’ music is just too loud for anyone to think. Now why don’t turn that down a notch. Yaw’ gonna burst an ear drum.” He says to The Ear beside him: “I swear, they shouldn’t even let the volume go that high on these I-thingies.”
“I’m not your ‘sweat-heart’!” The girl says.
“Pardon?” Big Talker wasn’t expecting a response.
“I’m not your sweet-heart, and my music wouldn’t be so loud if you weren’t shouting your conversation to everyone in the airport. No one cares! So why don’t you turn it down a notch!” she confidently turned her music down and stared forward. Her eyes flicked towards Chris in a brief moment before returning to her IPod.
Big Talker huffed at The Ear and slunk a little deeper into his seat.
Chris gathered the little things he had to go to the restroom as they announced boarding for his flight.
Chris returned to the terminal where everyone was boarded. He noticed Big Talker and The Ear hadn’t moved yet. The Girl was gone. Up at the counter a fully lipsticked woman in a blue suit took his ticket, scanned, ripped and handed it back to him in one swift motion. “Have a nice flight!” she said and reached for the next person’s ticket as Chris passed through. Like a pull-string doll; “Have a nice flight!” the stewardess repeated.

Aboard the plane, Chris looked at the ripped portion of his ticket. Seat 15B. At least the plane only had four seats to a row; and he was in the aisle seat; that meant he could stretch out his long legs.
Seat 11: full. Seat 13: full. Chris looked up counting and anticipating the upcoming seat 15. The girl was sitting in Seat 15A. His slight excitement distracted him from the purse strap on the floor that he unknowingly slipped his foot into. By the time he noticed, he was already in a mid-air swan dive to the floor of the plane. He caught his six-two, 170 pound frame on his elbows, but not before his knee smashed into an armrest with a crack. There were a few chuckles and a couple gasps.
Chris quickly jumped up and looked at the handbag owner. She didn’t say anything but grabbed her purse and tucked it more securely under the seat in front of her. A stewardess yelled at him: “you OK?” He waved backwards at her.
Chris looked at the girl. She was looking out the window, her hand resting on the side of her mouth to hide her smile. It wasn’t unnoticed by Chris. He could she her cheeks pushing little laugh wrinkles in the corner of her eyes.
Chris sat down and put his book in the back-seat compartment.
“Figures.” The girl said.
“I’m sorry?” Chris asked thinking she was referring to the inconvenience of having to sit beside such a klutz.
“Oh nothing.” She nodded and pointed ahead.
Directly in front of them, Big Talker was forcing his duffel bag into the overhead compartment.