October 1st, 2025
Denver PD 4th District
The infected roam the streets, filling the air with the stench of death and feces. Their bodies are covered in blood and sweat as they move manically in search of prey. Howling and screams can be heard sometimes far off in the distance, occasionally accompanied by gunfire. A faint fog accompanies a cold wind as the morning sun rises.
In the 4th district precinct, survivors are gathered around talking amongst each other while others stand aloof. Some of the remaining officers and military personnel have passed out a few MRE’s and jackets to keep people warm in the coming days. Cots have been distributed to the elderly and women with children while others make do with whatever else is available.
“We can’t stay here.” Grimm muttered to himself as he leaned over the map spread across the desk. Most of them had been there for the last two days, the rest dwindling in on their own. A cigarette rested between his lips as he considered the situation. The police station made a decent safehouse but it lacked resources necessary for long-term survival. They needed to find a secure place that had room to form a new community, growing food, and house other resources they would need.
Looking at the map there were a few places on the outskirts that might prove suitable but he wasn’t as familiar with Denver and the surrounding area as those who lived there. His team had been deployed to assist with containment efforts but their status was currently unknown after things took a violent turn. Hopefully he would be able to locate them.
Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Salem looked around at the survivors in the precinct. They were a ragtag bunch, if mostly reasonably armed. Some of them appeared to be likely residents who would know the area better than him, and hopefully would know of a place to go.
“Hey! We need to move to a better location. We don’t have the resources necessary to stay here long-term. Any ideas?” he asked, glancing at everyone.