"Contained?"

“GO AND HIDE.  FIND SOMEWHERE SAFE, AND GOOD LUCK!”  The officer yells from his patrol cars window as he pulls away. 

Getting in his truck, Deacon is really confused. He tries to call Greg to ensure that they are still at his house and to make sure everything is ok, but his phone will not let him dial out.  Shifting gears as fast as he can, black smoke pours out from the trucks exhaust.  Deacon thinks to himself that if he had driven like this two days ago, he would have gone straight to jail as he passes two patrol cars headed in the other direction. They don’t even bat so much as an eye as they pass him.

Deacon pulls into his driveway, he jumps out, and grabs his rifle.  Throwing the rifle sling over his shoulder, he pulls his pistol out of the back of his pants as he runs to the door. Deacon reaches the door, and knocks rapidly (BAMB, BAMB, BAMB).  Deacon notices the curtains move out of the corner of his eye.

"IT’S ME, OPEN THE DOOR!"    

"IS THAT YOU, DEACON?"          

"YA, ITS ME!  WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" 

The door opens.  Deacon rushes in to find Greg standing just inside, holding a shotgun.  After shutting the door, Greg calls out for Lana who is hiding in the bedroom closet.  Greg motions for him to follow him, showing him the TV.  Greg begins to explain,

“This is about the only news station still airing.  Apparently, the attacks on the base were these human like creatures.  The government is trying to say they have it contained.”

"Bull shit," Deacon interrupts. 

Greg looks at him puzzled.  Deacon responds by telling Greg how he had to shoot five of those “Things”. 

“To kill them you have to shoot them in the head, I watched them eat Trent, the new kid that I had been training.”