Infected

"Hey Charlie," Rodger shouted. "Where's Lassie?"

Charlie looked up from his book. "She should be in the kennel. Why?"

Rodger walked over to Charlie, rubbing his hand through his black hair worriedly. "She wasn't there when I went to feed the dogs this morning. I thought someone had mistakenly taken her out on patrol, but she's still not back."

Charlie swore, "They know they can't take the dogs out whenever they want. I've told everyone that a hundred times. Who's going to sniff out the infected, if they're too damn tired from playing all day." He took a deep breath, ending his rant, before continuing. "You start looking for her. I'll ask everyone downstairs if they've seen her."

Rodger nodded and headed off. He wondered where he should look first. There were only so many places to hide in the building. The former church was full of survivors and supplies. So only a few of the smallest closets and a few of the worst rooms in the basement were free of people.

He decided to check the roof. If any kids were playing with the dog they'd be up there.

As much as he wanted to find Lassie, he really hoped the few kids they had weren't playing with her. They'd have to be punished for breaking the the rules, and people were on edge enough already. Having over fifty people staying at the church hoping none of the infected attacked was enough to make anyone freak out if they were given the slightest push. It was too bad they couldn't spread out a little bit.

Unfortunately the church was the only strong building in the area that didn't have large easily broken windows at ground level. So the people who hadn't succumbed to the virus, hadn't been killed at the hands of their insane friends and family, and hadn't fled the city, or committed suicide, had come here. If it wasn't for the fact that the sick didn't like bright lights, and the dogs being able to sniff them out during the later stages of infection, they'd all be dead right now.

It was hard to imagine that only two weeks had passed since the infection had hit the US. In that time the entire Eastern Seaboard had collapsed.

It wasn't easy staying alive. Everyone was hungry, tired of the nightly attacks, sick of having no privacy, suffering from lack of medicine, and a whole textbook of psychological trauma. The radio reports of quarantines in the remaining cities of North America didn't help either. The announcers had stopped reporting on what cities were still alive, a few days ago. According to a person on the short wave radio, people had started rioting in some of the cities as reports kept rolling in of how other cities were collapsing all around them. That had only made the situation in the church worse.

They really didn't need a missing dog thrown into the whole mess.

The small roof was packed with people enjoying the sunlight and fresh air. Lawn chairs, towels, pillows, and coats covered the rooftop allowing people sit in relative comfort. Two kids were throwing a ball to each other in the small section designated for games.

There was no sign of Lassie.

"Rodger," Sam called over from a spot on the edge of the roof, "got a minute?"

Rodger waded through the seats and crouched down beside his friend. "What's up?" he asked.

Sam looked up at Rodger. His eyes were invisible under the dark sunglasses, his stupid cowboy hat was tipped forward shading his face, but Rodger could see his cheeks redden as he began to speak. "I, I was wondering if I could get a few days off from the resupply group. I haven't been feeling that well," he whispered.

Rodger jerked back instinctively. Any sign of sickness had become something to scream about.

"I'm not sick," Sam said fiercely, still whispering. "I've just. My mind just needs a bit of a break. You know how I've gone out nearly every day to bring back supplies. It's just gotten to me. I need a break." He clutched Rodgers arm, "Please, just let me take a few days of working guard duty, or cleaning, or anything."

"Okay," Rodger said quietly. "I'll put you on guard detail for a week. Thats the best I can do. Just take it easy."

Sam's took his hands from Rodger, "Thanks, that's all I need."

Rodger started to leave. "Sam," he said stopping, "have you seen Lassie."

"No," he replied almost instantly. "I haven't seen her all day."

"Thanks," Rodger said walking away.

He started walking down the stairs. It was dark and he had to go slowly. He only had a few seconds to hear the sound of running feet. Rodger threw himself against the wall of the narrow staircase to avoid a panicked, running figure.

"Are we being attacked?" Rodger asked, panicked.

"I found Lassie," Charlie gasped. "She's dead. Torn apart. She was in the basement."

Rodger slumped down onto the stairs. Someone was infected inside the building. "Do you know who?"

"Kandace, one of the little kids told me she saw Sam with Lassie early this morning when she was suppose to be asleep. She says she recognized his hat. But I'm not sure how good of a witness she is."

Shit, thought Rodger. This couldn't be happening. Anyone who was still sane was suppose to be immune to the airborne virus. Only direct contact was suppose to be a danger to them. But who else, but one of those sick bastards would tear an animal apart. They couldn't risk it, if someone was infected they had to get rid of them now.

"Charlie, get Sam he's on the roof, bring him to my office," he said.

"Should I bring some guards?" Charlie asked.

Rodger shook his head. "No I want this kept between you, me and Sam, if that's possible. We can't have a panic."

Charlie nodded and went up the stairs.

Rodger walked to his office.

Five minutes later as Rodger sat in his chair there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Rodger said.

Sam stepped in, Charlie looked in briefly and then closed the door. He'd make sure no one came by and just happened to overhear what was occurring. Sam was kneading his cowboy hat nervously, his sunglasses still on.

"Please have a seat, and take your sunglasses off," Rodger said.

"Okay," Sam said doing as he was told. He kept his eyes down and looked around the room, obviously trying to avoid eye contact. "What can I do for you? Charlie was pretty close mouthed."

"Did you kill Lassie?" Rodger asked bluntly.

Sam's head flicked back and forth, trying to avoid Rodgers eyes. "What!" he said a few seconds later, sounding more scared then shocked.

"Look at me," Rodger said. "I need to see your eyes."

Sam looked at Rodger, his eyes were a sickly yellow, the first clear sign of infection. He started crying.

Rodger took the gun from his lap and pointed it at Sam. "I need to know how this happened. Did the virus mutate again?"

"I got a nail in my foot three days ago. It wasn't a bad cut or anything, I didn't notice until we got back," Sam said, his voice rising and falling strangely, he was on the edge of panic. "One of the infected must have cut themselves on the same thing a little while before. I cleaned it out as soon as I realized. It was just too late. Please, I don't want to die."

"Why did you kill Lassie?" Rodger said trying to keep the remorse out of his voice. He had to be strong.

"I just needed to attack something. I wanted to kill something. But I knew I couldn't hurt a person. So I grabbed the nearest dog. I tried to control myself. I held out for an entire day before I did it," he pleaded. "You don't know what its like. But I'm working on it. I can control myself. Please don't kill me. I'll leave the church. You'll never see me again. I swear, just let me leave."

Rodger shook his head, "I'm sorry, but you're not leaving here. I won't let another infected out into the world." As Sam rose angrily, Rodger aimed the gun directly at his chest. "Please don't make me shoot you. You have two choices. I can shoot you, and I will. But I don't want to shoot a friend like a rabid dog. I also need to consider the other people here. If I shoot you they'll know soon enough and start to panic. I won't let you leave alive, but there is another means, where no one has to know you were infected and you won't feel a thing."

"You want me to commit suicide," Sam said bitterly his tears forgotten. "Should I just throw myself off the roof, or shoot myself in the head?"

Rodger tossed a pill bottle to Sam with his free hand. "It's heart medication. No one here uses it so you can. Just take five of the pills and in half an hour you're heart will seize up. It's practically painless you won't even realize whats happening until a few seconds before you collapse. Charlie or I will stay with you until you die."

"Making sure I don't hurt anyone," Sam sneered.

"Making sure you don't die alone," Rodger answered him sadly. "We don't want to do this. But this is the only way to keep what few healthy people there still are working together, and not panicking. Now please take the pills, its the only mercy I can show you."

Sam opened the pill bottle and slowly took one pill after the other. He stood up and walked to the door. "I'll go with Charlie, don't worry I won't make a scene. You can sit here and wonder about your Hippocratic Oath while you figure out what to say to everyone." The room shook as he slammed the door shut.

Rodger bowed his head and cried..