Day 7

"Seargent we have COM on the line, they are requesting status." The burly Marine held his fifty steady as a stream of death poured forth into the crowds, check that, raging mobs of infected streaming across the Brooklyn Bridge at the blockade.

"Status is we need reinforcements, air strikes, and artillery! We are losing ground to these things!" The mob of infected patients were charging across every avenue to exit Manhattan and break containment. Blind rage was scratched across every face of the bombing victims...and their victims. Faster, stronger, no signs of illness other than disheveled looks to separate them from the non-infected.

"Pull back! Pull back," the Marine screamed into his mic. The National Guard fell within hours of quarantine, by presidential order the Marines were sent in to contain the city breaking the Posse Comitatus Act. American military now fired on American civilians. American civilians that were insanely motivated by sickness to attack innocent people around them. Women, Children, the lame and healthy were all targets for those infected by the bombs seven days ago.

Attacked is generous, devoured is more accurate. Packs of the infected roamed the streets of Manhattan island three days after the first bomb of three went off. The packs showed horrifying tendencies of group hunting instead of chaotic violence. The infection seemed to spread by contact with blood from the infected, mercifully not airborne.

The infected were capable of walking to hunt, aware of sounds they made to pursue a victim quietly. Then with blinding speed pouncing on the victim as a pack of lionesses on the Africa plains would a meal. Food was now running short on Manhattan island as everyone was in deep hiding, turned into the infected...or a meal.

"Pull back," the cry again went out repeatedly from Colonel Young. "They are breaching the barriers, fall back to Charlie station! We'll have to blow the bridges to contain! Spread the word to every unit, fall back and detonate the charges. Put these bridges into the water!"

The barriers now fully breached across the Brooklyn Bridge saw an endless supply of infected barreling their way towards the last obstacle of containment, the Marines defending the bridge. Quickly overran despite withering fire and heavy casualties of the infected, the Marines didn't stand a chance against such numbers. Hundreds spilled through to the other side as the controlled explosions started. It was inevitable now, one of the icons of New York City was now being turned to rubble to rest at the bottom of East River.

Containment had failed.