Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87 The virus had officially arrived

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Finished

hort while later, Joanna gathered the team and led them out of the pocket dimension, stepping back through the portal and into the physical apartment. The transition was hard but manageable. The moment their boots touched the linoleum floor, a barrage of unnatural sounds pierced the air, violently shattering the quiet sanctuary they had just left behind.

They rushed to the windows, and everyone went completely stunned, paralyzed by the sight before them.

The streets were in absolute chaos. Sirens wailed in a deafening, discordant chorus from every direction and the thick scent of smoke drifted through the shattered window frame from a multi-car/pileup at the nearby intersection. People were screaming, abandoning their vehicles in the middle of the road and running blindly down the sidewalks.

Through the apartment window glass, Joanna watched a man sprint past their building, his face twisted in pure terror. A few yards behind him, two individuals were giving chase-their movements erratic and violent, their skin carrying that unmistakable, dull grayish tinge they had seen on Ben at the diner.

The illusion of time had vanished. The virus had officially arrived.

The street below had transformed into a visual manifestation of hell. An oil tanker, swerving to avoid a stalled sedan, had jackknifed across the lane of the avenue, plowing through a row of parked cars before bursting into a towering wall of roiling orange flame. Thick, toxic black smoke choked the air, turning the afternoon sky into a murky twilight illuminated only by the rhythmic, strobing red and blue lights of abandoned emergency vehicles.

Sirens wailed endlessly, an automated chorus to the breakdown of civilization. Below the apartment window, the panic was visceral. Dozens of people surged down the asphalt in a frantic, disorganized stampede, trampling over dropped groceries and suitcases left in the middle of the road.

After a moment more of staring at the unfolding disaster, Joanna turned away from the glass, her face hard and analytical. “Jolie, turn on the TV. Let’s see what the networks are putting out right now.”

Jolie scrambled for the remote, her fingers trembling slightly as she clicked the television to life. The screen flickered to a breaking news broadcast, the red banners at the bottom flashing wildly. A frantic news reporter stood directly outside the main hospital downtown, the background behind him filled with a chaotic mess of rushing gurneys and flashing police barricades.

“Officials still can’t offer much definitive information on the origins of this virus,” the reporter shouted over the ambient noise of screaming sirens. “However, one health official we spoke to moments ago confirmed that the virus appears to incubate for roughly 24 hours before any noticeable physical symptoms begin to show. We are urging everyone-please, stay indoors. Do not come outside unless it is an absolute Jemergency-”

Suddenly, the reporter’s broadcast cut short. An old woman, her skin a dull, grayish tinge and her clothes stained with dark fluids, stumbled blindly into the camera frame. Before anyone could react, she lunged forward with terrifying force, sinking her teeth deep into the reporter’s neck.

The camera violently jerked, capturing a brief, horrific second of the man’s screams before the feed sharply cut to static. An instant later, the broadcast slammed back to the brightly lit news studio, where an anchor sat frozen in absolute, pale-faced shock, staring blankly into the camera.

Joanna stared blankly at the tv screen, her mind racing. The timeline had shifted slightly again from her

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Chapter 87 The virus had officially arrived

Finished

past dream timeline. In that memory, the outbreak had developed slower; she had been several towns over with her family, watching everyone gradually descend into a panic over a matter of days. By nightfall back

people were simply holed up behind their doors, naively waiting for the military to arrive and save

them.

But the brutal reality was that the military was completely unprepared. In the early weeks, most squads either died on impact or broke apart into smaller, disorganized factions trying to execute hopeless resque missions. The infected numbers swelled too quickly, ruthlessly overtaking the government’s military shelters almost as fast as they could set them up.

While Joanna was analyzing the strategy, a sharp ring broke her concentration. Jake glanced at his phone, his jaw tightening as he answered it right away. Without a word, he stepped out of the living room and down the hall to talk in private.

Joanna didn’t waste a second. She immediately began planning their next steps. Her massive supply warehouses had been completely cleaned out and vacated days ago; she only had this apartment left to pack

“Everyone, listen up,” Joanna barked, her voice snapping the group out of their daze. “Quickly pack up your remaining gear. Throw everything into a pile right here. I will put it into the space so we don’t leave a single item behind in the event we need to bug out.”

She walked toward the gear locker, pulling out their tactical layers. “Also, gear up right now. The zombies out there are low-level right now and very slow. They haven’t mutated further, so heavy firearms aren’t necessary yet-shovels, hatchets, and bats are ideal for close quarters. The best place to strike is the middle of the skull. From this moment on, your protective vests must be kept on at all times if you are outside. No exceptions.”

The team, already deeply accustomed to their intensive training mode over the past few weeks, moved on autopilot. There was no questioning her authority. Rachel and Raven began pulling clothes into tactical bags, Allen grabbed the heavy short-wave radios, and Uncle Nate checked the chain on his new saw.

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