Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the prompt that Kate gave me.
Kate's Prompt: Girl likes a guy but he disappears one day. She goes to visit him to see what's wrong only to find evidence that he plans to kill her.
So here you are, Kate.
*~*~*
Disease is the retribution of outraged Nature. – Hosea Ballou
*~*~*
The building was silent; the only noise the quiet humming of the various computers in the room. Early morning sunlight poured into the building, casting long shadows across the floor. And then, footsteps echoed through the room.
The two walked in, not speaking, their eyes focused emptily on their desks. They were an odd pair, to say the least. The man was at least 6 feet tall, with short, light brown hair and greenish-blue eyes. The woman was several inches shorter than the man, with olive-toned skin, long, wavy dark brown hair and wide brown eyes. They walked next to each other, tension between them undeniably worrisome.
They sat down, still silent, and immediately set to work, an awkward silence filling the air. Computers hummed to life, lighting up the room with even more strangely tinted lights.
She looked at the man out of the corner of her eye, watching him with an expression of longing and tension, fearing that there was something wrong with him, the same blank look having been on his face for days now. He took no notice of her, staring at his computer blankly, his eyes glazed. She knew something was wrong, but didn't make any mention of it.
He had been normal up until a week ago, when he suddenly ceased talking except for an occasional factual statement. He had gone to the crime scene they were working, walked into the building, and then to everyone's shock, his face went blank, zombielike, an unidentifiable glint in his eyes.
She wanted to say that she was worried, that he was scaring her, that he needed to go to the doctor, but she said nothing. He could take care of himself. Odd scenarios were running through her mind; lists of diseases and chemicals that could cause such a change in mentality. But so far, she had nothing that fit the bill.
But something was wrong, and she planned on finding out what.
*~*~*
He disappeared. Slowly but surely, he came to work later and left earlier each day, never saying why, until one day he didn't show up. She said nothing, but when a week passed and nothing happened she decided to go to his apartment to check on him, worried that he was sick or dead or…she had read too many horror stories.
At 5 she walked out of the building and to her car, looking over her shoulder, feeling strangely paranoid, suddenly worried that she was being watched. It was an oddly foreboding feeling that she had only had a few times before, always before something happened, but nothing that had directly affected her. She shrugged it off and got into her car.
The streets seemed empty, despite the fact that it should be rush hour. The few people she saw had either her own worried look or the all-too-familiar blank stare. Fearing that something had happened, an outbreak of a rare disease or a bio-weapon, she turned on the radio. All she could get was static, the occasional song, but no news. Something was definitely wrong.
She pulled up in front of his apartment, putting her hand on her waist to make sure that she still had her gun, though she knew she probably wouldn't need it, and got out of the car. Looking around, she could see no one, just a piece of paper blowing down the road. Sighing, she walked towards the building and ascended the stairs, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. Other than the fact that she seemed to be the only living person who hadn't become totally emotionless, nothing seemed off.
His door was open. Out of habit, she entered with her gun aimed in front of her. The apartment was devoid of all life. The only thing she saw was unnaturally clean furniture and piles upon piles of DVDs, Blu-Ray disks, and VHS tapes, not to mention the widescreen HDTV. Typical. She lowered the gun, looking around for any sign of life. The only thing she saw was a trail of ants, walking in military-style lines, in a strange rhythm. Worried about the insects' behavior, she followed the trail to the kitchen to find the ants turning around in a centered spiral, making her dizzy as they walked around in the tight little circles.
Concerned now that everyone and everything but her had gone insane, she backed slowly out of the kitchen with her back against the wall. Slowly, she made her way down the hallway and to the bedroom, where she found even more signs of anomalous behavior; the bed made neatly, the lamp on the nightstand perfectly centered, not a speck of dust, the Uzi laying on the desk, perfectly clean.
She jumped as she saw the semi-automatic, staring at the black metal in panic. She hadn't made him out to be the type to have anything other than a Heckler & Koch P7. Now deeply concerned for her friend's and the world's mentality, she walked towards the desk, looking for anything unusual, barring the machine gun.
There was a photo of her on the desk, one she did not remember being taken, of her sitting on her living room couch, reading, obviously having been taken outside. Disconcerted, she picked up the photo and turned it over to see machine-like handwriting that caused her to drop the photo and jump back in fear.
"I will kill her."
Now completely panicked, she turned and ran out of the apartment, down the stairs and straight to the car. She jumped into the driver's seat and pulled the car recklessly out of the parking space, then floored it, driving towards the interstate. As she pulled onto I-95, she realized with fear that there was nobody there.
She had to get away from the city.
*~*~*
Death Valley is too dry and too hot in the summer for viruses. On average during May thru August, it can get into the triple digits, on average past 120° F. As she sat in the boiling hotel room, it was 124° F; in her own room, the much cooler temperature of 87° F. The cable was mediocre, but she had still been able to get a news channel, which told her all that she needed to know. Sitting on the bed, watching the tanned California news reporter, she realized that she had made the right choice in driving to the hottest and driest place in the entire United States.
"In other news, 44 states have now been affected by this disease, including the coast of California itself. The places that have yet to be affected are Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Hawaii, Alaska, Utah, eastern California, western Texas, northern Montana, the Wyoming and Colorado Rockies, and the Florida Everglades. The virus cannot withstand extreme temperatures, and therefore all people unaffected are advised to evacuate to one of the clear regions. The virus causes sociopathic behavior, madness, and lack of emotions, and will cause death if the affected person does not have natural immunity. Strangely, the unaffected groups in the diseased regions all appear to be of Middle Eastern, African, Latin American, Mediterranean, and Eastern European descent. It appears that those who have grown up in regions with extreme temperatures and countries with higher rates of diseases such as Melioidosis and Leishmaniasis, for some reason, are completely unaffected due to what appears to be a natural immunity. All those who are unaffected are advised to stay in the disease-free locations until the CDC has cleared the rest of the country."
She turned off the TV, having heard enough. So all her friends were going to die. What was she going to do without all of them?
Her cell phone rang, signaling a text message, and she jumped back, nearly screaming. Recovering quickly, she checked the caller ID, and a sense of relief flowed through her. She opened her phone to check the message.
We're alive. Currently in Las Vegas. Contact us once you're in the clear.
She smiled, and then turned on the record button on her cell phone.
"My name is Ziva David," she said, calmly. "Three days ago I evacuated from Washington D.C. due to an outbreak of an unidentified disease. As far as I know, the first one who I know was affected, Anthony DiNozzo, has already died from the disease. My other friends appear to have evacuated in time. The date is July 12th, 2012. The time right now is 1304, PST. Everyone else that I know appears to have survived. Two minutes ago I received a text from the only survivor I know of, Abigail Scuito." She finished recording and placed the phone back in her purse.
And then she fell back onto the bed, sobbing.
She could never tell Tony what she felt about him.
*~*~*
A/N: And there you have it. Happy late birthday, Kailtin.