I was just out of residency for a year and was starting practice at clinic owned by the hospital in Eureka, CA when the first few reports started coming out about a new infection that was rapidly spreading out east. Having done some epidemiology in an elective rotation, I was eager to participate and was getting ready to go out east to Atlanta. I had already scheduled a flight when we got our first two cases in Eureka. Of course, I quickly canceled and made my way to the hospital. The two infected patients had already been killed but not before they had bitten a dozen staff members including two of my colleagues. Over the next week, is when we all really understood just how bad it was. Within the next few days after the staff died, they suddenly came back to life but were aggressive and agitated.

We managed to blockade them in the cafeteria and set up a parameter around the hospital, but we were quickly being overrun. My husband, who had been caught at our home when the first big wave of infected came through, tried to come to the hospital to find me. He was attacked and overwhelmed by a large horde outside. The grief was unimaginable and I considered just letting them bite me as well. If you can't beat them, why not join them? But I couldn't let them near me. On some visceral level, they scared me deeply. I and a small group were able to flee the hospital but getting out of town was hard and finally, I only was able to reach the outskirts.

I had heard nothing from my little brother, my husband was clearly dead, and my parents likely were, too. Grief stricken and with half a death wish, I made my way blindly, without any planning, to Arklay.