The things gave me the thousand yard stare. It was more like a thousand mile stare, butI've never been much for words anyways. They just stared at me, for hours, well now itwas days but it really didn't matter. For a while I could see into some of the NSA filework, which was one thing I was good at. Twelve years of government funded schoolingto set up networks had taught me a thing or two. I finally got sick of the staring contestwith my dead friends and walked back to my terminal. A few key taps put me into theNSA framework, but the last entries of any importance were dated for Christmas dayand that was a week ago. I stared at it again, for the hundredth time.
25DEC11Infection has spread rapidly. Remaining CDC tech's have confirmed it has mutated again and is in the water supply. Lost contact with all remaining members of the WhiteHouse staff 24 hours ago. Exit from outpost is now impossible as the building issurrounded.
That was all it said, that was all it always said. I wanted to slam my head off of themonitor, but instead I checked other open ports. There was still some Chinese andRussian chatter going on, but I couldn’t read any of it. Damn Chinese, of course theywere surviving, there were too damn many of ‘em. I glanced back up at the window toconfirm the things were still waiting at the window and of course they were. I checkedsome more ports, looking for anyone speaking English. The internet had still had someEnglish speaking peoples on it, but none in America. Youtube, of all things, was stilloperational and people were still posting videos, but I don’t watch them anymore. Therewere a few forums still in operation, but it was just a matter of time before everythingcame to halt. My own building only had enough juice in the generator to last for a fewmore days.I screamed and put my head down into my hands. I punched the walls and let my ragedrain out of me. The things outside began to jostle and pound on the shatter proof glassof the door window. They apparently didn’t like my angry outburst, so I gave it a rest. Ilaid down on the floor, cursing the building designers one more time for not putting inthicker, comfier carpeting, and sort of fell asleep.A loud banging noise startled me. I ran to the window and looked at my buddies outside.One of them was achieving higher learning, because he had a rock in his hand. Heslowly chugged away at the glass, scratching it, but causing no other damage that Icould see. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. Only three hours had passed. Icouldn’t tell if it was dark out or not and I suppose I really didn’t care either.I looked at the NSA framework again and found the same entry staring back at me.More banging on the window confirmed that some of my buddies had taken up the ideaof slamming rocks off of the glass. One stood out amongst the rest. She was Paula, anattractive young blonde, who had worked down the hall from me. I remember always