The early morning light filtered through the curtains of Logan's small home, casting soft beams across the living room where he sat on the worn couch, a mug of black coffee in hand.
His black German Shepherd, Ghost, lay at his feet, watching the room with a quiet intensity that only a military dog could possess.
Emma Williams, Logan's girlfriend, was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast.
Her auburn hair was tied up messily, and Logan smiled to himself at the sight.
The simplicity of this moment, the calm before the storm, was something he had learned to cherish after his years in service.
"Logan," Emma called from the kitchen, "I've got pancakes on the way. You better get Ghost out of here before he starts begging."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head as Ghost perked up at the sound of pancakes.
"I'll get him out, but no promises. You know how he is."
He pushed himself off the couch, his house shoes scuffing against the floor as he moved toward the back door and slipped on some boots.
Ghost jumped up immediately, tail wagging, and followed Logan outside into the crisp morning air.
The small backyard was surrounded by a tall wooden fence, and the world beyond was still quiet, bathed in the pale light of dawn.
"You're lucky today, buddy," Logan muttered, tossing a ball for Ghost, who sprinted after it with the energy only a dog trained for action could muster. "Today's your day off."
As Ghost returned with the ball, Logan then heard the soft jingle of his phone in his pocket.
Reaching into his jacket, he saw a text message from his old army buddy, Mark, followed by a missed call notification.
Logan taps the call back button and listens to the phone ring two times before Mark picks up.
"Hey buddy, I saw where you called-"
"Logan, I need you to listen closely," Mark's voice crackled over the line. "You've got to start preparing. I've been keeping tabs on some of the government experiments, and something's not right. I don't know all the details yet, but it's bad. Really bad."
Logan frowned, looking toward the house.
"What kind of experiments? You sure about this, Mark?"
"More than sure," Mark said, his voice urgent. "I've been monitoring military and government communications, things they don't want getting out. They've been testing some kind of bio-weapon, a fungus or virus. It's spreading fast. You need to start stocking up. Food. Ammo. Medical supplies. Whatever you can. I don't trust that this is going to stay contained for long."
Logan hesitated, glancing back at Emma, who was carrying a plate of pancakes to the kitchen table.
Ghost padded back to his side, nudging his hand with the ball.
"Mark, I appreciate the heads-up, but you know I'm not one to panic. You sure this isn't just a government cover-up?"
"I wish it was," Mark replied, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. "Trust me, Logan. It's bigger than you think. You don't have to go full survivalist, but you need to be ready."
Logan took a breath, eyes narrowing as he glanced at Emma.
"I'll think about it. Thanks for the warning. I trust you, Mark."
With a heavy sigh, Mark replied, "Just… don't wait too long, okay?"
As the call ended, Logan put the phone away and walked back inside and towards Emma, forcing a smile.
She looks up.
"Who was that?"
"Oh, that was Mark. He was just telling me something I need to look into, but nothing to worry about. Just a little heads-up from a friend."
Emma raised an eyebrow.
"You sure? You look a little tense."
"Yeah, I'm sure. It's nothing," Logan said, but the seed of doubt had been planted in his mind.
The rest of the morning passed in a haze of routine, breakfast, quiet conversation, and the familiar rhythms of their simple life.
But Logan couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
…
Meanwhile, in New York City, chaos was beginning to unfold in the emergency room of Bellevue Hospital.
The ER was flooded with patients, many showing strange symptoms, fever, aggressive behavior, and dark veins creeping along their skin.
Doctors and nurses moved quickly, doing their best to stabilize the patients, but there was an unsettling sense of unease in the air.
"Doctor, this one's going into cardiac arrest!" one nurse called, her voice strained with panic.
The doctor, Dr. Janet Reyes, rushed over to the bed, attempting to administer CPR to a man whose body was convulsing violently.
His veins had turned black, and his breathing was erratic. She could hear him growling, his face twisting in pain as his body spasmed.
"Stay with me!" Dr. Reyes urged, but the patient's body jerked violently and then suddenly went still.
A growl rumbled from his throat as he suddenly lunged forward, sinking his teeth into the nurse's arm.
"Get him off her!" shouted a doctor, but the man was too strong, his grip like iron as he tore into the nurse's flesh.
Security rushed in, pulling the man off, but it was clear something wasn't right.
The patient's eyes were milky white, his body moving with unnatural speed, and the wound he'd inflicted was already spreading dark veins along the nurse's arm.
Dr. Reyes backed away, fear creeping into her chest.
"This isn't just a virus… this is something else. Something that's changing them."
The situation quickly devolved as more infected patients began to show up, each one exhibiting the same disturbing symptoms.
The hospital was quickly overwhelmed as the infected spread through the ER like wildfire, and the doctors were left to fight not only for the lives of their patients but for their own survival.
In the midst of the panic, Dr. Reyes realized they were facing something far worse than any outbreak she had ever encountered.
The very fabric of humanity was being unraveled before her eyes, and she had no idea how to stop it.
…
The morning after his unsettling conversation with Mark, Logan laced up his work boots, grabbing his tool belt before heading out the door.
His job was straightforward, working as a carpenter for a construction company that built homes in the growing suburban areas around Birmingham.
It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills, and it kept him active.
After his years in the Army Rangers, Logan had learned to appreciate the routine of working with his hands, the physical labor that kept his mind busy and his body strong.
Ghost trailed behind him as he made his way to his truck.
Ghost was more than just a companion; he was a reminder of the good times, the stability Logan had built since retiring from the military.
The dog was always alert, never far from Logan's side, and today was no different.
Logan climbs into his Tacoma and then Ghost rears up on the side.
He reaches over and pets Ghost and scratches his ears.
"Alright buddy, go back inside and keep Emma company."
Ghost whines but then runs back towards the house and around to the back.
Logan then turns the key in the ignition and the truck roars to life and he puts it into gear and heads to work.
On the drive to the construction site, Logan's mind kept drifting back to his conversation with Mark.
He'd known the guy for years, trusted him with his life on more than one occasion.
But this talk about government experiments and a potential outbreak, Logan wasn't sure what to make of it.
He'd dismissed Mark's wild theories before, but there was something in his voice this time that made him second-guess.
Logan arrived at the site, greeted by the buzz of machinery and the hum of construction workers going about their tasks.
His day passed in a blur of hammering, measuring, and cutting wood for new homes.
It was hard work, but it gave him a sense of purpose, something to focus on outside of the growing unease he felt.
By the time he finished for the day, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood.
As he climbed into his truck, Logan made the decision to swing by Walmart.
He didn't know exactly what he was preparing for, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming.
Mark had warned him, and even though he didn't fully believe it, Logan knew he had to be ready.
At the store, Logan grabbed a few basics: a couple of cases of water, some canned food, and a couple first aid kits. It wasn't much, just the essentials. He then heads to the local gun shop to buy a few boxes of ammo for his guns he had back home. He put the boxes of ammo into his truck and headed home.
Logan finally arrived home after a long, exhausting day at work.
The familiar hum of his truck's engine faded as he parked in the driveway.
Ghost sprints from behind the house and plants his rear on the ground, tail wagging furiously.
Logan opens up the truck door and Ghost jumps up to meet him and Logan pets him.
He then gathers up the supplies he bought and heads inside the house, the weight of Mark's warning still lingering in the back of his mind.
But when he opened the front door, he pushed it aside, looking forward to being with Emma, to the normalcy of his home.
As he opened the front door, the delicious smell of Emma's cooking filled the air.
He smiled, hearing her soft voice humming as she moved around in the kitchen.
The comforting rhythm of her presence eased some of the tension in his shoulders.
He placed the bags from the store on the counter, Ghost's tail wagging and he excitedly follows his master.
Emma turned from the stove, wiping her hands on a dish towel as her eyes met Logan's.
"Hey, you," she greeted, her smile lighting up the room.
She was still in her scrubs and Logan felt his heart skip a beat at her beauty.
"Hey, my little nurse," Logan replied, stepping into the kitchen and pulling her into a warm embrace.
He could feel the weight of the day lifting as soon as he held her close.
"How was your first day at the clinic?"
"Good. Quiet, but I got a few things done. I really enjoyed it."
Logan smiles.
"Good, I was hoping after the poor managing at the hospital that the clinic would be a little better."
"I think it'll be a good fit."
Emma sinks deeper into Logan's arms, and she notices that he's very tense.
"You okay?" she asked, her hand brushing over the side of his face, her eyes searching his as if reading his thoughts.
Logan nodded, though his mind had been preoccupied since his conversation with Mark.
"Yeah, just… a lot on my mind."
Emma smiled softly, though there was a hint of something more in her gaze, something that Logan couldn't quite place.
She stepped back, her hands resting lightly on the counter.
"There's something I need to tell you, something I've been meaning to say."
Logan felt a flicker of uncertainty.
"What's going on? Everything ok?"
She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his.
There was a pause, the quiet of the house settling in between them.
Then, Emma smiled—gentle and full of love.
"I had a meeting today with the doctor at the clinic, once I got off, and Logan, well, we're going to have a baby."
For a moment, the world seemed to stop.
Logan blinked, his brain trying to process the words.
The joy, the disbelief, the overwhelming flood of emotions he didn't know what to do with it all.
He stepped closer to Emma, his voice barely a whisper.
"You're serious?"
Her eyes twinkled with warmth.
"Yes babe."
Logan's heart thudded in his chest as a wide grin spread across his face.
His breath caught in his throat, and without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Emma, pulling her into a tight embrace.
She let out a small laugh, her arms circling around his back.
"Oh my God," he murmured into her hair, his voice full of wonder. "We're going to have a baby."
Tears welled in Emma's eyes as she held him just as tightly.
"Yes, we are," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to wait until the right moment, but I just couldn't anymore. I wanted to tell you."
Logan gently pulled back, cupping her face in his hands as he looked down at her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.
His eyes were intense with love, his heart swelling.
"This is the best news I've ever heard."
Emma smiled, her own tears glistening now, her hands resting on his chest.
Logan took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts of the future.
His life had always been unpredictable, shaped by the chaos of his time in the Army.
But this, this moment, this life they were about to build was something he could hold onto.
"We'll figure it out. Whatever happens, we'll make sure this little one has everything they need. You, me, and Ghost... we're a team."
Her smile grew, brighter and more reassuring.
"We're a team. Always."
Logan placed his hand gently over her stomach, as if already connecting with the child growing inside her.
The idea of being a father, of being the protector of this tiny, new life, felt like the most important mission of all.
He kissed Emma's forehead, feeling the weight of the moment settle around them.
There was a long pause as they stood there, the quiet warmth of their home wrapping around them.
Then Logan hesitated, his voice softer than before.
"What… what about your parents? Have you talked to them about this yet?"
Emma shifted slightly, her eyes lowering.
She bit her lip before meeting his gaze.
"I haven't told them yet. Honestly, I'm scared of how they'll react. They've always had expectations for me, and... well, this wasn't exactly part of their plan."
Her voice trailed off, the weight of her uncertainty hanging in the air.
Logan's hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin with a soothing touch.
"Hey, whatever happens, I'm with you. We'll figure out how to tell them together."
She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch.
"Thank you. I know it's just... I didn't want to disappoint them. But I want this baby. I want this with you."
Logan nodded, his heart full of pride.
"We'll tell them when you're ready. And no matter what they say, you've got me. We've got this."
Emma leaned in, kissing him softly, and Logan held her close, the future suddenly feeling full of possibility.
Together, they would face whatever came next, side by side, no matter how big or small.
…
Inside UCLA Medical Center in California, Dr. Andrews and his team were in full crisis mode.
The emergency room had been flooded with patients, all showing signs of severe aggression and physical deformities.
The nurses and doctors worked quickly, trying to stabilize those who hadn't yet succumbed to the infection, but it was clear something was wrong.
A new patient arrived, a man who appeared to be in his early thirties, his body twitching violently as he was wheeled in.
His skin was pale and blotchy, his veins blackened with what appeared to be some sort of infection.
His pupils were dilated, and his mouth was frothing with saliva.
"Quarantine him!" Dr. Andrews shouted, motioning to the nearby isolation room.
But before they could act, the patient suddenly lunged at a nurse, grabbing her by the throat and sinking his teeth into her neck.
Panic erupted in the ER as more patients began to turn, their bodies contorting in unnatural ways, their aggression overwhelming any attempts to sedate them.
Dr. Andrews and the team scrambled to secure the patients, but outside the hospital, sirens wailed as even more emergency vehicles arrived...