1 Chapter 001: Bat-nado begins...

Well, life isn't so dire.

I lazily meditated, twisting my arm left, and my car swarmed through a deserted neighbourhood underneath the chaotic moonlight with thunder rumbling and drizzle pattering above its lid. I could almost feel the heavy sways of the early November breeze and the fragrance of the upcoming 2014.

I grabbed the coffee I'd purchased from a corner store while patrolling past Westminster and took a sip from the cup containing a 180ml brewed coffee. I inhaled the warm fragrance and devoured the tantalizing liquid, but within an instant furrowed my brows as the earthy taste of discernable bitterness mated with acidic sourness dulled down my throat.

It tasted awful. I made a mental note to dodge the corner store later on.

Another sigh evaded my lips as I reached towards the burger I'd hoped to eat later; I had a ten-minute break and I intended to exploit it thoroughly.

Two bites down the burger and my two-way radio jostled in my pocket. I hoisted the burger with my right palm and huddled the radio with the other.

Buzzz…

"All units move in position to the main park in Westminster; there appears to be a wild unidentified occurrence, possibly a raid from the virus bearers!" the voice crackled through the radio.

Then call the cops! I wanted to say. But I was already a half-cop.

"Affirmative."

I sigh, not knowing if I should proceed to the grassland like the others. I'm a trainee steering on patrol due to disobedience. I wasn't convinced I could handle a gun excellently, well… I can. And this is a prominent lawsuit that only special agents were hungered for- not a trainee. So I spurned and dug back into my burger.

My phone chirped against my pocket and I was a second away from disregarding it, but somewhat steered my palm down my face with another sigh and reached for my phone. Then shoved it to a distance before answering it.

"Where are you, Quinn?" The harsh voice of my superior was clotted with scorn and hassle as he spoke out the minute I answered it. "Get that ass down here this instant, yeah?"

"Yes sir," I replied, suppressing any retort revolving around my head. I wouldn't dare tell him that trainees aren't allowed to go near such places in critical situations. And besides, annihilating those menacing fellows might upgrade me in his eyes.

"Weak fellow," The superior uttered at the dying of the call and I chose to ignore it. Just because I'm skinny doesn't imply I can't execute what's ought of me.

Scrutinizing the halfway devoured burger, I kept it back in its sack with determination to get back to it afterwards before heading to the main park.

The grey sky didn't soothe the situation, but I had the privilege with the aid of my headlight to realize how wild and chaotic the condition was at the main grassland. It appeared to be raining heavily, but the warlike breeze nearly made it seem like a tornado rematch. It was Intense. The unmoving disastrous tornado was gigantic and forceful, and I figured it was the reason the police became alert.

I parked my car a further away from other FBI cars before hoofing out grasping my Ruger SR9c. I didn't move an inch away from my car like the others were doing, but instead positioned myself readily for action.

My walkie-talkie buzzed again and I raised it;

"Surround the park! The virus bearer has infected major cities in the United States, and Westminster city is next. We have to kill this thing before it infects us!"

I frankly couldn't see the justification that FBI agents- and trainee had to shoot off bad guys when it's simply a job for the police. But this was different, and couldn't be addressed by just the police.

Now every FBI department in front of me cocked their guns and honed it at the tornado, including me. Something big was happening tonight and I knew it.

And I saw them emerging from the tornado. Red eyes, cracked skin, hunched backs and heads inclined and their faces were swarthy with strange slanted eyes. They seem dead and yet walking, but that's why it's a virus. Claws and fangs slowly crept off their fingers and mouths. Only three words I could form to describe those creatures;

Wingless-human bats.

Buzz…

"Hold!" The walkie-talkie spoke out as the creatures halted observing everyone; one would think they wanted a truce, but they suddenly sprinted past the red line. "Take them down!"

Bang Bang Bang…

I leaned beside my car, holding the cocked gun tight and was keen to fire the second I sighted any varmint in my path. But my confident stance was ripped apart when I witnessed how two FBI's heads were yanked apart and another one had a fist gap in his stomach.

Those things were fast.

Guns didn't seem to have an impact on them, only to stall them by curling them weak for a few minutes. We only have guns as weapons to fight, and if those creatures aren't hurt by it then we're privileged as death.

A noise rumbled near me, forcing me to file my gun in the direction with my feathered ribcage almost plunging asunder from the party of my beating heart. The squishing noise sounded again and a little animal ran past me. Phew.

My head registered the blisters of people sprinting, I darted behind me and realized those people were hiding to film everything. But seeing an FBI's skull apart must have triggered their fears. However, from the hub of my eyes, I witnessed a creature watching them run, and I didn't need to be informed they had turned his prey. Before I could take action a cry halted me; a young boy ranging between six to eight seemed to have stumbled and hurt himself or was just scared.

I trotted closer to him after speaking to the two-way radio about the safety of the running pass-bys. I coat my gun behind my back so as not to scare the boy who seems to have been abandoned.

"You okay?" I asked, walking closer to the kid and leaning to his height. I observed the boy and realized he had pale blue hair; strange. "I'll get you outta here, you're safe now," I whispered, attempting to pass comfort through my voice. But I didn't get the opportunity to hurl him when the kid spoke.

"È una mossa sbagliata, piccolo umano," His voice sounded deep and old, definitely belonging to a middle-aged man.

The fuck?

I didn't get the chance to die down my startle when the little boy launched at me with speed and force that plummeted me to the ground. Fast reflex made me point the gun at the kid, I didn't however get the luck to shoot when the kid thrusts his claws into my wrists.

"Più debole di quanto pensassi," He smirked as he twisted the injured wrists, causing me to grunt with pain. His eyes were blue, different from the others which were either pale red or golden.

What the fuck was he saying?

The question didn't matter two seconds later as the kid descended his fangs into my neck and slit my vein, provoking my entire body to crumple with pain as the kid sucked off me.

After the first gulp, the young boy backed away with disgust and spit out the remaining juice in his mouth. Which made fresh blood crawl down his jaw.

The kid watched as my blood got mixed with the rain and the blood on his lips washed away.

I was lying in my pool of blood. Life gradually poured out of me as the kid walked around and picked up my gun, and I did see the kid transforming into a man… into my image, before entering my car and driving off.

Darkness slowly soaked into me as the rain poured heavily on me. I watched as other FBIs got ripped apart and a few infected. Soon enough the only thing I could register was the pattering rain entering my ear, and then darkness.

Rainfall, thunder rumbling and groans continued.

.

.

.

Pain.

The only thing my mind could register as I slowly regained consciousness. My eyes were closed but I could sense my surroundings; this wasn't my home. Then I became alert hearing the conversation between two women.

"Why are we tending to him?"

"Because he's injured."

"But he's a policeman, yeah?"

"And?"

"Police are bad, Mama. Remember what they did to Papa?"

"Just because it's his occupation doesn't mean they are all the same, Gracie,"

"But mama-"

"What am I teaching ye?"

I could hear her resigned sigh before replying. "God loves those who forgive."

I tried to sit up after winning my mental demons to open my eyes, but a sharp pain penetrated my skull after registering in my brain. "The fuck?" I moaned painfully holding the side of my neck as I sat up. The stinging pain around it felt like hell.

"Ten quids in the swear jar."

"What?" I didn't hear her, and it sounded like I heard 'ten quids in the swear jar.'

"I said ten quids in the swear jar."

Was she… serious? The fuck she wasn't.

"Who are you?" I requested. They were British, I realized or seemed British.

"Who are you?" She retorted, folding her arms as she darted down at me.

I chose to ignore it as my memories slowly gathered up. Pale broken skin, red eyes… human wingless bats- or vampires. I looked at my body and discovered I still had my work clothes on. My fingers moved back to my neck and I felt the plaster on it. It hurts. I used the opportunity to observe the room; it seemed like a Christian home.

"What's your name," The older lady asked.

"Roman, ma'am," I responded candidly.

"How are you feeling, Roman?" She asked again.

"Pain? Other than that I'm good."

She nodded. Her head tilted to the younger lady in the room. "Fetch him some water, Grace,"

I watched as the young lady who ostensibly disliked me- I didn't know why- -or maybe I did- strode away from the room and I turned to the elderly lady. "What happened?"

"I should be asking that. I saw your body bleeding and a few dead officers -may God rest their souls- lying headless and others had holes in their stomachs." She paused, and her voice barely wavered with emotions, before speaking again. "You were the only one breathing with your head intact and no holes in your stomach. What do you remember?"

I remembered. I remembered everything and I'm glad I didn't die.

"I remember nothing." I fibbed. I couldn't disclose anything when I didn't know her. I picked up my walkie-talkie which seemed broken from the bedstand and tugged it into my pocket.

"Where are you going?" Grace asked entering the room with a cup filled with water.

"Station."

"Your body is in no position to work, Roman," Mama Grace said. "This is the first time you've gained consciousness after four days, you almost died."

"Four days? Fuck!" I groaned, pushing myself off the bed.

"That would be fifty quids," Grace said, handing me the cup of water. "And ye can't leave or you'll be caged thinking you're infected."

"Infected?"

"Yes, the bat virus that has infected almost half of the USA. We're lucky it didn't infect many people here." Grace explained.

"I have to go home." I munched on my lips suppressing the groan creeping up my throat when pain surged through my body from my neck as I tried to walk. I looked over to Mama Grace and for the first time noticed how empty her expression was.

"Ok." She didn't argue. "Just stay safe." And I nodded. "Here," She hurled a coat at me. "It's many degrees down outside," Nodding again, I thanked her and didn't bother to look over at Grace whose expression showed she wanted the fifty quids on the swear jar and stepped out of the two-bedroom apartment.

It was indeed freezing outside. But it's early November so it isn't surprising. And it's nighttime.

I stink. I hadn't had a bath or changed in four days, and I had blood on me. I couldn't accuse them of not changing my clothes, they couldn't. They wouldn't want to jeopardize my safety by being thought of as infected so they didn't call anyone for help. I assumed.

I rummaged through my pockets and found a total of seventy-five bucks, so I stopped a taxi and gave my home address.

The first thing I noticed in my two-bedroom flat was the dearth of electricity, but that was the tiniest of my worries as I scampered to one of the bedrooms. I'd snatched my spare phone from the couch and switched on the torch. The door to the bedroom unfurled and a pale-looking male came into sight. His sickly figure on the bed made me sad.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, crouching below his bed. The boy on the bed appeared to be sound asleep but I knew he could hear me. "I'm very sorry, Thomas," The boy unfurled his eyes, and his green irises seemed to sparkle due to the torchlight. It was different from my hazels.

"Where were you?" He asked, his eyes scanning my face. "And yo- damnit, you're injured, Rome," His green eyes stared at my bandaged neck. "What happened?" His voice softened this time.

I laid my butt down beside the bed, pressing my back to the side. "Something happened at the main park, Something wild. A few lives were lost and many injured." I put it as plainly as I could. The last thing I wanted was for my brother to be worried about my safety at the academy.

"What was it? And ye aren't qualified to be assigned on crimes, aye?"

I almost grimaced knowing how Thomas's european lingo came off very prominent when he was irked.

"Thugs. They were trying to set the park on fire. They claimed it's for fun but I know that wasn't their intention." I lied. And a lame one.

"You're always entering dangerous situations since you started the academy. Can't you ask for a transfer or something? So we can move to a safer city. Westminster is known for its high crime rate, I don't want ye dead trying to save people."

"I know," I said calmly. "I'm sorry I wasn't-"

"Stop it, Rome. I might be sick but not helpless. Ate off some fruits and dinner-ed on cereal." He said with a weak smile, and a second later furrowed his brows with irritation. "You smell like shit, Rome, go take a bath."

I laughed and nodded, before leaving his room after ruffling his hair.

I made my way to my room, and the unburdened expression on my face slowly washed away as I'd earlier suppressed my pain. I recharged the electricity after leaping to my room, and my second stop was the bathroom where I stripped off my clothes. I observed my expression on the mirror hung on the wall and noticed the dark circles around my eyes were gone, more skinnier than before but that was probably because I hadn't eaten in four days.

My fingers grazed the plaster and my body didn't flinch unlike earlier. The pain I felt at Grace's house wasn't there anymore. Soon enough, I had the pending urge to unwrap the plaster, especially when I felt it itching. I needed to modify the dressing.

I braced my body for the pain I might fumble when removing the plaster and I stared into the mirror with my fingers gradually removing it.

I gazed with confusion seeing only a scratch line underneath the plaster. I didn't see any injury; healed maybe but that was impossible when I felt the raw pain twenty minutes ago. Strange. But I shrugged, acknowledging how tired I was. I'll address the subject after regaining my strength.

I balanced the temperature of the filled bathtub and unwrapped my towel as I set to leap into it. But a blasting siren suspended my movement.

"Roman Quinn," I heard my name crackle from outside. "You're under arrest as a carrier of the bat infection." I frayed back my towel and walked over to the bathroom window. I separated the window blind with my fingers and peered outside. Three police cars and policemen with cocked guns clutching their palms, my eyes shifted to the fourth car and realized it was the same taxi I'd entered home. "Any rash action would only be against you, so corporate."

My face moved back to the mirror with fear. I wasn't infected. I wasn't hundred percent sure but I knew I wasn't.

But as my eyes slid down my neck… I wasn't sure anymore.