Time ticks away, and the facility is chaotic. People are tired, but too wound up to rest. Still, the food and drink is comforting even if it's just stall-quality food cooked on a larger scale. Eventually, the PA system crackles and everyone takes note.
At one end of the Armory (or Center House if you prefer) at the top of some stairs is a section of walkway with a railing. You recognize Yuri, standing beside a well dressed man who was just handed a microphone.
"Good evening everyone. My name is William Bowman. I'm not one to mince words, tonight has been unlike any other -- a disaster we're still figuring out. It's been roughly eleven hours, and we don't know how or why. What we do know is the majority of the population simply seems to be... well, zombies is as good a term as any at this point." His voice is deep, strong, even a bit reassuring.
"Unfortunately, we don't have answers to speak of. Not yet, anyway. In the moment, we're just trying to survive. Our initial goal was to secure a large enough facility to house everyone we could rescue. Over the coming days, we'll be making The Armory as pleasant as possible. We ask for your cooperation and understanding as my associates and I work on these matters.
What I can tell you is this... outbreak, I guess we can call it... doesn't seem limited to Seattle. There are reports of the same thing in New York, Orlando, Los Angeles, Kansas City, Ontario, West Edmonton, Paris, Milan, Frankfurt, Hanover, Lucern, Dubai, St. Petersberg, Tokyo, Xi'an, Sydney, Cairo, Pretoria, Rio de Janerio... everywhere we've heard from is dealing with this.
Right now, the goal is to keep everyone we can safe.
Which is why you all were asked to turn in electronic devices. Currently, we don't know how many people are out there. However, we do know broadcasting about our survivor encampment, about food and shelter, has a very real chance of drawing unwanted attention from people willing to go to great lengths for supplies. They want to live, and don't care who they have to hurt to ensure their own survival.
We know a number of people kept their devicies. While I am not pleased, I do understand. It is my hope, that with better understanding of the situation and an amnesty period we can do the right thing and turn them in so we can all move on with surviving."
A huge retractable screen unrolls from the ceiling. Lights flicker across it as a projector begins. The image is paused.
"You may wish to have children look away, or if you are squeamish you may elect to as well."
After about 30 seconds, the image continues... it's a stream. Someone is filming live and broadcasting. The feed appears to be from up off the street levels, but zooms in to show a few average people overwhelmed by the zombies, biting and rending gobbets of flesh as the victims scream and blood flows.
The feed switches. The second broadcast is much the same but you recognize the Arc de Triomphe in the background. A third broadcast, somewhere there is a lot of sand. A fourth from inside the Tokyo airport.
It's horrific, and what's more disturbing is that it resonates in a way Hollywood magic doesn't... you can feel it in the pits of your stomachs, and you'd bet your life savings you aren't watching corn syrup and make up.
The entire facility is silent, too stunned to do or say much of anything.
The broadcast cuts off, and William speaks, his voice quiet and somber.
"I trust you understand the severity of the situation. I wish we had more answers, but for now we simply don't. All we have is a pledge to keep you provided for and to keep you safe. We hope you'll do your part to help maintain that.
Allow me to introduce Yuri. Yuri Minamoto is my right hand. She speaks as I do. If I'm not present, consider her to be me. She will handle affairs during the day, and I will be active at night. I wish I could say I have an open door policy, but with over 900 people rescued I simply cannot, nor can she. Over the next day, we will be formalizing a system to provide points of contact for everyone. We ask you to bear with us as we truly get established.
For those who elected to keep your devices, the amnesty period ends at Sundown tonight. I hope you will be agreeable.
Thank you all for your time, and together we can find our way through whatever comes."
William hands off the microphone, and disappears down a hallway. The crowd picks up, murmuring. Many are still in shock and the news that whatever is happening is happening everywhere is more than some people can process.
A number of people involved with the rescue, including some still wearing their TSA jackets from the airport, will head off. Presumably, to sleep... the night has been trying on everyone.
The sun will be coming up shortly. You have roughly 15 hours to make your choices.
