The Ending Beginnings: Clara

The fifth novella in The Ending Beginnings, the prequel series to The Ending Series, is available to read on Barnes & Noble, Amazon, & Kobo!

Description:

The fifth novella in the prequel serial to The Ending Series.

A virus changed everything. This is how it began.

Clara's childhood was less than ideal, but thanks to her beloved fairy tales, she managed to survive. She also managed to hold onto the hope that, with a little hard work and determination, she would one day find her Prince Charming...her happily ever after. And for a little while, she thinks she has. But just as everything seems to be falling into place, a ghost from the past returns to haunt her.

The Ending Beginnings:
I - Carlos
II - Mandy
III - Vanessa
IV - Jake 
V - Clara
VI - Jake & Clara (June 2014)

1

Without taking her eyes from her book, Clara reached for her chocolate milk, which was sitting on the laminate cafeteria table beside her tattered backpack. Lips pursed around the straw and her feet bouncing with happy anticipation, she took two long pulls of the rich, cold liquid until her straw made a slurping sound, and she set the empty carton back down on the table. All of the other students were out in the quad, fussing about their homework or gushing about boys or complaining about the teachers they didn’t like, but Clara had better things to do. She ignored the ceaseless giggling and chatter as it trickled in through the open cafeteria doors and lost herself in her book.

“It was very late; yet the little mermaid could not take her eyes from the ship, or from the beautiful prince.” She read each line with more passion and longing than was probably natural for a thirteen-year-old girl, but she couldn’t help it. Fairy tales…Prince Charming…happily ever afters…she loved it all. “He is certainly sailing above,” she read softly. “He on whom my wishes depend, and in whose hands I should like to place the happiness of my life.”

Clara thought about Patrick, about his dreamy black hair and his light brown eyes, which always seemed to be saying more than his words ever did.

She sighed and kept reading. “I will venture all for him, and to win an immortal soul…”

Clara smiled as she devoured line after line, every word resonating in her soul, giving her hope that there was another life out there, a life different from the one she had with her mom—a better, easier life.

After another sigh, she stretched her legs out under the table, wiggling her toes in her holey converse and crossing her legs at the ankles, and settled in for a few more pages before the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

“‘But if you take away my voice,’ said the little mermaid, ‘what is left for me?’ ‘Your beautiful form,’ said the witch. ‘Your graceful walk and your expressive eyes. Surely with these you can enchain a man’s heart.’”

Clara paused and wrinkled her nose. Your form? Your graceful walk? That didn’t seem right. It sounded too much like something her mom would say.

With a shrug, she pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose and continued reading. The little mermaid was so passionate, so sure about the prince. Clara longed for the day when she felt that way for someone. Or rather, she longed for the day when someone felt that way about her…

Daydreams of Patrick flitted into her mind, and she closed her eyes, imagining what it would feel like to run her hand over his spikey hair. He seemed so mysterious. He was popular and seemingly untouchable, so she guessed that had something to do with it. But there was also the way he looked at her sometimes, his gaze lingering a little too long and his mouth curving into that tiny smirk he seemed to reserve for her alone. Clara was pretty sure he thought about her…at least more than not at all.

And there was that one time at the bus stop, when they’d been waiting under the awning to stay out of the rain. She could never forget the feeling of his soft skin, still tanned from a summer of baseball games played under the afternoon sun, as his arm had brushed against hers. Although she’d been freezing all day because she’d forgotten a coat, it had only taken that one moment, that single, fleeting contact, for her incessant shivers to seem completely worth it.

Clara giggled. Maybe Patrick was her soul mate, her happily ever after; he just didn’t know it yet. But as quickly as the thought fluttered into her mind, it fluttered away.

“Men are pigs, Clara Bear.” Her mom’s voice was grating in her mind. “They’re only as good as the size of their wallet.” Like sand in a windstorm, all of Clara’s whimsical thoughts of her Prince Charming blew away. Her mom clearly didn’t believe fairy tales, but then again, Clara often thought her mom was just an uneducated hussy. At least, that’s what she’d heard other people say about her…when they weren’t saying worse things.

The older Clara was, the more she heard and the more she understood. Part of her knew thinking mean things about her own mom was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. Eye rolling and hateful thoughts had become the norm for Clara when she was around her mom.

“Love is for blind fools, Clara Bear, and blind fools deserve whatever comes to them.”

Clara wondered if her mom had ever been in love. From the sound of it, Clara thought probably not. She knew her own dad was nothing more than a handsome face passing through town; her mom had said as much herself.

Clara resituated herself on the bench of the lunch table. The sound of squeaky soles on the polished floor behind her drew her attention away from her book. Pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose, she looked over her shoulder at the cafeteria entrance. Patrick was heading her way.

“Hey,” he said, stopping at the end of the cafeteria table.

“Um…hey.” Clara smiled dumbly, her eyes darting to her beat-up lunch pail, the same Care Bears one she’d been forced to use since elementary school. She shoved it into her backpack.

“You working on Mrs. Larson’s homework already?” He hoisted his backpack up onto his shoulder and pointed to the open book lying on the table in front of Clara.

“Oh”—she held up the book of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales—“yeah. Just trying to get a head start on the book report.” Although it was partially true, she really loved fairy tales, even if these versions were darker than the ones she was familiar with.

Patrick smirked. “We still have, like, three weeks.”

Clara shrugged. She refused to tell him she had nothing else to do. “I think I might be going on vacation next week,” she lied. “I don’t want to fall behind.” Clara couldn’t bear for Patrick, the boy of her dreams, her very own Prince Charming—even if he didn’t know it yet—to learn how boring and lonely she was. “Have you started yet?”

He shook his head, his smirk turning into a smile. His eyes flicked down to her book. “Any of it any good?”

Clara couldn’t hold back the grin that engulfed her face. “The one I’m reading now is pretty good,” she said, not wanting to go so far as to admit she was enthralled with The Little Mermaid. “But I love fairy tales, so…”

Patrick eyed her for a moment, then took a step closer. “Cool. Maybe there’ll be a story in there that I’ll like.”

Clara wondered why he’d stopped to talk to her, but didn’t have the guts to ask. “Maybe.”

“So…where are you going on vacation?”

“Oh, umm, I’m not sure…somewhere with my mom’s boyfriend, I think.”

Snickering and cackling broke into the stillness of the cafeteria behind her, and Clara and Patrick both started. Her heart began to race. No. Please, she silently begged. Not now…

Patrick peered over her head, his eyes narrowing. “What’s so funny?”

Clara squeezed her eyes shut, wishing Joanna Rossi, with her long black hair and crystal blue eyes, would just disappear already…forever. She was the most horrid girl at school and seemed to love torturing Clara more than anything else.

“She’s not going on vacation,” Joanna spat. “She’s such a liar.” Her voice grew closer with the sound of each footstep until she finally stepped around the lunch table and planted herself beside Patrick. She looped her arm through his, and her friends strutted up to the other end of the table to watch, like perched vultures waiting to pick away at what was left of Clara once Joanna was finished.

Why didn’t Patrick push Joanna away? Why wouldn’t he at least pull his arm out of hers? They weren’t together, were they?

Joanna’s eyes zeroed in on Clara. “You’re so pathetic. We all know your mom can’t afford to take you anywhere. She can’t even buy you new shoes.” Dropping Patrick’s arm, Joanna took a step forward and leaned down on the lunch table. “My mom said your mom sucked all the men in Bristow dry, so unless you’re moving somewhere else so she can find new rich men to suck dry, you’re full of crap.”

After another wave of boisterous laughter from her friends at the opposite end of the table, Joanna curled her lip and reached for Clara’s backpack. “Have you ever even gone on a vacation before?” As if she were holding a slimy worm, Joanna took the open flap of Clara’s pack between her fingers, pinky raised in disgust as she inspected the ratty state of the bag. Letting go, she wiped her hand on her pants.

“Yes, I have.” Clara snatched her backpack away from the evil witch, her skin flush as she scrambled to zip it up.

“Liar,” Joanna muttered.

Before Clara’s eyes began to blur with unshed tears, she grabbed her book, hugging it against her chest and left the remnants of her lunch on the table. “You’ll eat your words when I’m not here next week!” she screeched before running out of the cafeteria, down the hall, and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

The bathroom smelled of mold, soggy paper towels, and toilet water, but Clara didn’t mind. She couldn’t bear seeing Patrick again, not after he’d witnessed her utter humiliation.

Clara’s hands began shaking as her anger and embarrassment combined, resulting in the tears streaking down her cheeks. No one made her cry—not her mom, not her mom’s horrible boyfriends, not other students’ mean comments—and Clara hated that Joanna, of all people, had been the one to provoke the sudden onslaught.

Her horror quickly hardened into seething hatred. “Stupid bitch.”

But deep down, Clara knew it wasn’t just Joanna she was angry at. This was her mom’s fault. Bristow was one of the smallest cities in Oklahoma, so of course, everyone would know how horrible her mom was. No matter what her mom told herself and others, she wasn’t special or entitled to anything in any way—she was pathetic, and she was dragging Clara down with her.

If her mom had been normal, Clara knew she wouldn’t have to worry about stupid girls like Joanna; they’d have nothing to hold over her. Clara knew that, even though she was a little scrawny for her age and poor, she was pretty, or at least, she thought she could be if she tried. All she needed was a different past and newer clothes. If she had those things, she would be the one laughing at the others, she would be the one tormenting Joanna.

As Clara opened her book, she tilted it toward the dim, florescent light and began reading. With each word of hope, love, and happily ever after, she swore to herself that she would never ever be the butt of anyone’s jokes again. Ever.

And she’d do whatever was necessary to make sure of it.

The Ending Beginnings: Jake

Alright, Endingers...the fourth novella in The Ending Beginnings, the prequel serial to The Ending Series, is finished and available to read! At the moment, it's also available for free on Goodreads and Wattpad, and can be purchased at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Description:

The virus changed everything. This is how it began.

When Jake's world is ripped away, he's left with nothing but the sting of betrayal before he's lost to a devastating illness. Waking up days later, he finds that everything has changed--even he has changed--and the world is in complete chaos. Though he's surrounded by danger, his guilt and need for vengeance are his greatest enemies.

The Ending Beginnings
I - Carlos
II - Mandy
III - Vanessa
IV - Jake 
V - Clara
VI - Jake & Clara (June 2014)

FREE First Chapter

~~~~~

1

Jake hunched over a small dining room table, his head resting in his hands. His house was too quiet. He’d been sitting there for hours, oblivious to the sound of the incessant tapping of his foot against the hardwood floor. Not even his churning stomach distracted him from his festering thoughts, burdened with indecision and doubt.

Lifting his head, Jake scanned the front of the house, uncertain how it had come to this—him up in the middle of the night with a feeling of dread looming over him…dread that he would make the wrong decision…a decision he might regret for the rest of his life.

The house was dark and quiet, a combination Jake would have welcomed a few days ago but was now unsettling. The bluish haze of dawn filtered in through the barely cracked blinds, casting shadows through the small, conjoined kitchen to his right that was still in disarray from him rushing around over the last 48 hours. The adjacent living room to his left was stark, and with the exception of the twinkling, rainbow lights on the Christmas tree in the furthest corner, it looked like it had been forgotten. There was no noise save for the sound of his own breathing and the occasional creak of the house settling. For the first time, Jake felt utterly alone.

How many hours had he been sitting there, wasting time? According to the glowing, red numbers on the microwave above the old, tan stove, more than four hours had passed since he’d sat down to think. Four hours, and he still wasn’t sure what to do.

Jake shook his head, dispelling the urge to close his eyes and sleep. Why hadn’t the damn doctor returned his calls? Hadn’t he been clear with the receptionist? And he’d left several voicemails in the last 24 hours alone. It had been four days since Dr. Bishop told them Becca’s illness was a simple flu that needed to run its course, four days since he’d prescribed ample rest and copious amounts of fluids, and in those four days, Becca had only worsened. She’d become sleep deprived and delusional and had lost her appetite…she was completely convinced her vivid dreams of blood and death and torture were real.

It wasn’t the goddamn flu, or a simple fever…his sister was losing her mind.

The longer Jake sat there, the more exhausted he became, and he struggled to stay focused. Straightening, he scrubbed his hands over his face and stared at the cordless phone in its cradle on the tile counter beside the refrigerator. With the doctor nonresponsive and his sister’s hysterical pleas to avoid the hospital at all costs, Jake could only think of one other possibility:

Gabe, Jake’s best friend. He knew people, and if there was ever a time to call in a favor, now—when Jake felt more desperate than ever—was that time.

Jake rose from his chair, its legs scraping against the worn hardwood as he scooted it back. Muscles feeling leaden and sluggish, he took two steps toward the phone. He reached for the receiver, pressed TALK, brought the cool plastic to his ear, and paused. There was no dial tone.

Hanging up, he tried again. Still nothing.

Frustrated, Jake hung up the phone and took a few wavering steps into the living room toward the L-shaped sectional situated beneath the picture window. Becca’s purse was on the arm of the sofa, and he hoped her cell phone was inside.

He dumped the contents of his sister’s purse onto the couch cushion. A pink-cased cell phone, among an array of other items, landed on the worn leather with a soft plop. Jake paid little attention to the contents rolling in between the cushions, instead fumbling to turn on the phone.

Luckily, the cell illuminated to life, and a picture of Cooper, their Husky, lying on his back with his tongue hanging from his open mouth, filled the screen. Impatiently, Jake scanned through the icons, searching for the phone function. Finally finding it, he typed in Gabe’s cell number. There was a reason Jake didn’t have a cell phone—they were expensive, easy to break, and after shattering one and losing another, he’d decided they weren’t all that important.

With a deep, controlled inhale, Jake pressed CALL and waited with bated breath for his friend to answer.

Gabe had been distant since losing his little sister, Lizzy. Jake hadn’t spoken to him in months, not since Gabe had last come over for Becca’s birthday dinner. Jake had walked in the front door after a long day of wrenching on trucks over at the fire station to find Gabe sitting at the dining room table, drinking a beer and chopping tomatoes. As usual, Becca had been chatting his ear off and hounding him for whatever life updates he would surrender. Gabe had filled them in on his non-existent love life and the mysterious, female doctor friend he’d made at work.

She was the reason Jake was trying to reach Gabe—Jake just hoped she was still around.

“Come on,” he mouthed, tapping his index finger against the back of the phone. He hoped to God that Gabe was still a morning person, though it was early, even for him. Jake wondered if the guy ever regretted working for the military; the confidentiality around his contracted research projects at Peterson Air Force Base made him seem illusive, even to Jake, who was more like family than just a friend.

Jake was about to hang up when Gabe finally answered. “Becca?” His friend’s voice rang with surprise and more than a hint of worry. “Is everything okay?”

Hesitating, Jake steeled himself before answering. Articulating the severity of the situation proved more difficult than he’d thought it would be. “It’s me.”

There was a heavy silence before Gabe said, “What’s wrong?”

A mixture of relief and fear made it difficult for Jake to speak, and he had to clear his throat in order to get the words out. “She’s really sick.”

“What do you mean, sick? Sick how?”

Pushing Becca’s purse clutter to one side of the couch, Jake sat down, some of the items sliding into the impression around him. He took a deep, shaking breath and scrubbed his three-day-old beard, fighting to stay awake. “The doctor said it was just the flu, but it’s—it’s different. She’s seeing things…she swears they’re real.” Jake paused, not wanting to scare Gabe, but his own fear outweighed his concern. “I can’t get ahold of the doctor, and Becca freaks out when I try to take her to the hospital.” Jake cleared his throat again, wishing he could crawl out of the dark hole he felt himself falling into. Gabe might be his only hope. “Would that doctor friend of yours be able to see her? Or, do you know anyone else who might be able to help—”

A loud crash and angry growl rumbled through the phone.

“Gabe?” Jake asked carefully. “Everything okay?”

“No, it’s not,” he breathed. Rustling preceded the sound of Gabe’s ragged breathing.

Jake frowned. Was Gabe running? “I didn’t mean to scare you, man. I just…I didn’t know who else—”

“This wasn’t supposed to—I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Without another word, Gabe disconnected the call, leaving Jake to stare at the screen until it dimmed.

He wasn’t sure what had just happened. He’d expected Gabe to be worried about Becca—she was like a sister to him—but there’d been something off in his voice.

Leaning back against the couch, Jake cringed. The growing soreness in his neck and shoulders was making it increasingly difficult to move. He wanted to stretch out on the longer portion of the sectional that backed up to the entry, pull the folded blanket hanging on the back over himself, and fall asleep. But that would require him to move. Postponing any movement, Jake remained where he was, staring into the shadows around the living room.

After experiencing a childhood he would rather forget and spending his young adulthood getting into trouble, Jake had finally manned up, started taking proper care of his sister, and bought them a place to call home. It was small and a fixer-upper, but it was theirs all the same. In the year and a half that they’d lived there, he’d felt more content than ever before, happy even. Taking a job as a mechanic at the Colorado Springs Fire Department provided him a steady income and routine, something he hadn’t realized he’d really wanted until recently.

Jake eyed the antique desk pushed up against the opposite wall. It was cluttered with loose papers and notepads, and Becca’s medical textbooks were stacked to one side. She was happier, too—she could work on her sculptures and go to nursing school. They didn’t have to depend on other people anymore.

Jake looked down the hallway. The light beneath her door had been on all night, but not even the slightest noise had come from her room for hours. Cooper’s belly rose and fell with each breath as he slept soundly outside her door. Jake hoped Becca was finally asleep too.

Exhaling, he leaned back and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. His heart constricted as he grappled with the possibility that his sister might never be the same carefree, whirlwind of a woman he’d been devoted to his entire life. He couldn’t help but wonder if what was happening to her was some suppressed reaction to Lizzy’s death a few years back. Lizzy and Becca had been best friends from the moment they’d met—the very day Jake and Becca had moved in with Gabe and Lizzy’s family, the McLaughlins—until the day Lizzy lost her battle with leukemia. Jake also considered that what was happening to Becca might have something to do with their mom. Jake hated that Becca had been the one to find her dead of a drug overdose. He should’ve forced her to talk to someone about it, but then again, he should’ve done a lot of things differently.

As Jake’s eyelids grew heavier and exhaustion made his mind even more useless, he let his thoughts drift into oblivion. Despite it all, at least he felt a little better knowing that Gabe was on his way. He would be able to help.

To read more of Jake's story click on one of the links above!

Move Review: World War Z Movie Review

Reviewer: Lindsey Pogue

Rating: PG-13/ 116 minutes
Genre: Action | Adventure | Horror
Starring: Brad Pitt, David Morse, Mireille Enos, Daniella Kertesz
Director: Marc Forster
Book Adaptation: World War Z, By Max Brooks (Apocalyptic Horror)
LP’s Rating: 5/5 stars


Basic Overview: A pandemic spreads throughout the world infecting billions of people, and in turn collapses armies and governments leaving everyone who's left to scramble for answers. Retired United Nations investigator Gerry Lane (Pitt) is called upon to investigate the origin and science behind the virus that’s threatening to destroy humanity itself. In order to keep his family protected, Lane agrees to traverse the world, digging up and following leads he hopes will lead him to the origin of the virus.

My Review. Although I’m an avid reader and I co-author a post-apocalyptic sci-fi book series, I’m not typically an end-of-the-world sort of reader. Movies, however, are a completely different story. When I heard they were making WWZ into a movie, and that Brad Pitt was going to star in it, I instantly thought, “this is going to be…interesting.” It was difficult for me to picture and really get excited about Brad Pitt and zombies. However, going into the movie knowing little about it, I had little to no expectations about the film, and I ended up being very pleasantly surprised by the story line. Don’t get me wrong, I like Brad Pitt as an actor. Who doesn't? But Brad Pitt and zombies didn’t seem like a believable or satisfying pairing to me. I was wrong.

Why did I like it? WWZ isn’t your typical zombie story—it has complexity, science, intrigue, and tons of on-the-edge-of-your-seat suspense and action.

It’s realistic. WWZ isn’t about a genetically altered badass or crazy gunslinger who single-handedly try to save the world nor was it about power hungry extremist. It's more organic than that. Yes, Lane is the hero of the story, but he doesn't save the world on his own, or do it with any ease whatsoever. Lane's drive is more human and relatable than say, Alice from Resident Evil (even though I love her). This movie is thoughtful and realistic in terms of what actions would be taken, the anatomy of the virus, and how and who might actually be able to get to the bottom of it and discover weakness, cures, and so on. WWZ, to me, seems feasible, which makes the story that much more frightening and realistic. It's more of a behind-the-scenes look at what the government (at least what remains of it) would do in order to stop the virus, who they’d call upon to help, how the world as a whole is affected, and so on.

Suspense. Without giving too much away, this movie is stressful—in a good way—to watch. Just when you think Lane might catch a break, that some of his team members might live or that answers may have been uncovered, the situation gets worse and the plans fall apart. Lane is forced to think of his feet and work with strangers in nearly every scene just to stay alive. Nothing in life is ever easy, right? There is little about this movie that's convenient, another reason why I appreciated it so much. All 116 minutes are a struggle and every minute of it you're hoping Lane will catch a much needed break.

The science. The more “interactions” Lane has with the infected, the more he observes. What sets them off? Who is it that they kill? Is it everyone, or…? Why? The more he sees, the more questions he has about their weaknesses and the way the virus works. Everything has some sort of weakness, right? What is the biology of nature? As a hypothesis begins to form, Lane is forced to make some very hard decisions as to how exactly he’s going to test them, making every moment up until the very end, thrilling.

My recommendation. I really enjoyed this movie, but that’s me. I’m not a fan of over-the-top horror movies like so many of them are. For a movie to be truly unsettling and considered “scary”, it needs to be plausible and this story does that for me. It makes me think…what if? I would recommend it to anyone who likes a deeper level of involvement from the audience—an action/horror film with complexity, humanity, and a character's sheer will to stay alive--if not for his family than for himself. This movie makes me want to read the book.

Check it out.

Ultimate Field Guide to Crazies AE - First Edition

Survivors Beware! You may have been lucky enough to live through the H1N1/13 pandemic, but that doesn't mean you're safe. You can always run and hide in hopes of surviving, but it's better to know your opponent and how to defend yourself.

What happens post-apocalypse is a crapshoot. Every world is different, except for the fact you don't know what you're in for (although, generally speaking, it's never fluffy bunnies and merry-go-rounds). Worst of all, you don't know what you're up against until it's running after you with crazed eyes and a pitchfork or screaming like a suicidal banshee.

Our world is one of death, spontaneous genetic mutations, chemical imbalance and infection all resulting in some seriously disturbed individuals.

Here's what to expect After The Ending...

Crazies: [kray-zeez] proper-noun/plural - Individuals who survived DNA damage caused by the H1N1/13 virus resulting in an adverse reaction of psychological instability.
Crazy: [kray-zee] root word/adjective/proper-noun - mentally deranged, demented, insane

Classification: Clueless Wanderer

Species: Homo Sapien
Region: Global

Origin: Infected by virus; Survived

Symptoms: Appears unconcerned with the world outside their head; Frequently disregards need for shoes/clothes; Possibly experiences tactile numbness

Dwelling: Anywhere and everywhere
Weakness: Is easily defeated through most means of defense due to their incoherence and lack of strength as a result of malnutrition.

Classification: Grunt

Species: Homo Sapien
Region: Global

Origin: Infected by virus; Survived

Symptoms: Mindless aggression; Compulsive breaking and entering; Seeks out violence

Dwelling:  Abandoned houses and buildings in towns and cities; prefer locations with larger populations of survivors (potential victims); Frequently under the leadership of a Megalomaniac (who provides a steady stream of people to hurt)

Weakness: Noise -Loud, high-pitched sounds confuse them making it difficult to focus or follow orders

Classification: Manipulator

Species: Homo Sapien
Region: Global

Origin: Infected by virus; Survived

Symptoms: Easily agitated; Conceals aggressive intentions and behaviors; Uses victim's psychological vulnerabilities to determine effective tactics; Willing to use sufficient level of ruthlessness and cause harm to the victim; Generally covert and sneaky.
Dwelling : Groups of survivors (more targets to choose from)
Weakness: Entitlement -They're greedy and moody leading to irrationality and unexpected outbursts that expose them for who they really are, often times giving them away and turning their followers against them.

Classification: Megalomaniac [meg-uh-loh-mey-nee-ak]

Species: Homo Sapien
Region: Global

Origin: Infected by virus; Survived

Symptoms: Delusions of grandeur; Desire to rule the world; Finds excessive pleasure in dominating/hurting others

Dwelling: Fortified facilities surrounded by their sycophants (usually Grunts) and prisoners (people with abilities)
Weakness: Hubris -Their pride and arrogance affords them little to no patience when interacting with intelligent individuals. Intellectuals are threatening and unnerving so they often times reveal too much information resulting in their demise.

Classification: Paraphillias [par-uh-fil-ee-uhz]

Species: Homo Sapien

Region: Globally

Origin: Infected by virus, Survived

Symptoms: Recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies; Sexual urges or behaviors generally involving the suffering or humiliation of one's partner (generally non-consenting persons)
Dwelling: Abandoned buildings, submissive population a plus, tend to stay together
Weakness: Lust -Easy to lure using the object of their affection

Classification: Reclusive Kleptomaniac

Species: Homo Sapien
Region: Global

Origin: Infected by virus; Survived

Symptoms: Only goes out in full dark; Collects a specific item or type of item compulsively (i.e., shiny things)
Dwelling: Dark, cave-like spaces
Weakness: Light -Bright light burns their eyes and confuse them presenting moments of temporary weakness

Contagions, Plagues and Outbreaks...Oh my!

If there was an airborne virus outbreak, how long would it take to spread? 


How long would it take before the CDC could concoct a cure or antivirus to prevent further infection or spreading? 


What are the odds YOU would survive?


....................................


In third-world countries, what seems like the average, common cold or flu to us, generally causes DEATH. This is something I don't think about often, but it's a very real, prevalent issue. Who's to say it could never be that way for America?

It doesn't seem to matter if it's a virus or bacteria, either way when I hear the word "outbreak" or "epidemic" a part of me panics. The perstering question of "what if" hibernating in the subterranean tunnels of my mind surfaces, stirring a primitive desire to survive (I'm sure names like the Bird Flu, Swine Flu and Mad Cow Disease don't help put my mind at ease either). The other more ignorant, lackadaisical part of me thinks, "Meh, it's America, it's the 21st century, nothing will happen here."

Since beginning the research and writing process for our post-apocalyptic book series, it seems as though I've taken a whole new interest in the unseen world of molecules, spontaneous genetic mutation and cellular biology. I used to think, yikes, cells and molecules and compounds, no thank you. Now, I think, oh, the possibilities!

How do you control something you can't see? The average person can't, that's what makes writing about a pandemic so interesting! Survival of the fittest, natural selection, evolution and genetic mutation happen all the time in nature so being able to write it into a storyline with our own little twist is fun!

Creating a dystopian world based on a make-believe (but very possible) virus allows us to get scientific and imaginative as we try to determine how realistic or far-fetched we want it to be. Figuring out what that virus looks like, how it effects the world and what happens to the small percentage of folks who can withstand it and survive is like painting a picture. What would that world be like? Every little piece is like a color and in the end....we have a masterpiece (or so we hope).

Contagion was a movie that helped me to actually see what it would realistically look like to see a disease outbreak.

Director Steven Soderbergh's 2011 thriller, Contagion was, for me, a realistic look at the "maybes" and "it could happens" and "what ifs." I've begun to seriously ponder what my chances of survival would be and what would happen to those who DID survive some sort of viral outbreak that plagued the world. Lucky for us, we get to explore the possibilities as we generate a virus and After The Ending world of our own.

My thoughts...
It wasn't interesting to me on an entertainment level because there were so many plot-lines and characters I could barely keep up. However, on an educational level, it was enthralling. It was very thought provoking and for me, any film that leaves me with a lasting imprint or with more questions means it accomplished something and was worthwhile.

Casting...
Having so many celebrities involved was a bit unnecessary and overkill, especially since they all die. It would have been more realistic had their been "real" people enlisted for each role to make the content of the film seem more true to life, especially since the audience sees the disease spread in a hyperlink narrative fashion, bouncing back and forth between numerous characters.

The reality of it...
The film portrayed people infected by the disease from all over the world. It illustrated how quickly the virus spread and how each person was effected and in what way. No one was safe, not even the scientists who were the masterminds behind creating the cure. I'm no scientist or scholar on this subject by any means, but the film seemed extremely plausible. Scientists and science writers praised the film for it's real life depiction of what could happen, how the CDC would be involved and the process in which they would go about quarantines, tracking the virus origins, gathering live cultures for testing and so on.

What it would take...
Influenza viruses are constantly changing. To create a global influenza pandemic (worldwide spread) may occur if three conditions are met:

• A new subtype of influenza A virus is introduced into the human population (historically and generally passed along by wild birds showing no signs of infection).
• The virus causes serious illness in humans.
• The virus can spread easily from person to person in a sustained manner.

Just a thought....
According to the World Health Organization (WHO), three to five million people get the flu every year. Just think of what would happen if an common epidemic turned into a pandemic and killed millions people....oh wait, that happened in 1918 when the "Spanish Flu" decimated 50 million people. When I think about how many people get the common cold and how easily it's spread, I'm not feeling the warm and fuzzies anymore.

While the odds of the United States becoming inundated with the sick and dying due to the flu are minuscule, it would be ignorant to claim it could never happen.

So.........what if it did? I'm just sayin.....