Eric moved up to the counter and looked toward the TV to see scenes of fire and mayhem being played out as the commentator's voice droned on.

"The shocking video of our own reporter, Trish Kendrick, will be shown again in ten minutes. We warn you that the footage is disturbing and based on the brutality of the attack we believe that Trish and her cameraman, Arnold Franco, are deceased. The footage shows an attack similar to ones being reported in Chicago and in several other cities."

"Was it terrorists?" Eric's voice cracked and he felt sick to his stomach seeing the footage.

"Dunno,” the older man answered. “They're trying to figure it out. Said that some girl on the plane was attacking other people and they strapped her down. That was the last thing the air traffic controller heard before it crashed. Got some other riots going down in some other cities." The man began to check him out, carefully entering the prices into an ancient cash register by punching down the big black keys.

"Is that why everyone is acting so odd?" Eric cast a wary glance toward Brandy. He was surprised to see her playing with Pepe.

"Not paying attention to the news, huh?"

"Well, we're on a little romantic vacation, so not really."

"Yep. People are freaking out. Thinks its terrorist putting something in the water or in the air. Rioting in some of the big cities up North. Army and National Guard will get it under control. Some weird stuff going on today, that's for sure. News people can't decide what's going on. They say terrorists. Then they say race riots." The man shrugged. "They're probably making it a bigger deal than it is."

"I hope so. How much do I owe you?"

"Four dollars and fifty-two cents," the man answered and rested his huge hands on the counter to lean toward him. "You know, its time like this, I'm glad I'm in Texas. We got guns and balls, son."

"That we do," Eric answered with a chuckle and handed over the exact change.

"Take care," the man said.

"You, too," Eric answered and headed back outside.

Brandy was standing in the sun, probably trying to get a better tan, while Pepe dug into a flowerbed nestled against the side of the gas station. In some ways he felt relieved knowing that whatever was happening was far away, but at the same time he didn't like to think of another form of terrorist attack happening, even if it was in Chicago.

Briefly, for a moment, he felt a twinge of terror skitter through his brain, and then he shoved it away and moved toward his girlfriend and beloved dog. Things would be fine. Chicago was far away and this was a time to enjoy themselves.

It was a struggle, but he managed to shove his nagging fear away and enjoy the rest of his day and evening. When he finally fell into bed that night, he felt content and loved. With Brandy nestled in his arms, he felt confident that everything was going to be just fine. Tomorrow, he would give her the ring and it would be perfect.

At 3 AM he found out how wrong he was…

Chapter Four

The Morning of the Last Day

Eric woke from a very deep sleep and wasn't immediately sure why. The bed was deliciously warm compared the coldness filling the room and he drowsily raised his head to look at the clock set next to the bed. In big red numbers it read 3:00. Blinking, he slowly sat up and reached out to touch Brandy. His hand slid over the covers to find she was not there. It was then that he became aware of the low tones of her voice speaking in a hushed voice.

Sliding out of the bed, he stood for a second trying to figure out where she was in the darkened room. Slowly, he realized she was not in the room at all, but the bathroom. Confused as to whom she could possibly be talking to, he moved toward the door, tilting his head to hear. As his awakening mind grew sharper, so did his hearing.

"…cannot believe you went out with my sister. No, I haven't told him, but I already told you I'm not sure what is going on between us. I thought I knew, but this time with Eric has been so good. Oh, fuck you. No, fuck you. You took my sister out and got her attacked! You're at the fucking hospital with my sister. Do not tell me to calm down," Brandy's voice was whispering harshly.

Eric felt an intense cold shiver through his body and his stomach rolled. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but he just couldn't bear to. Instead, he laid his palm against the door and listened.

"Just tell me if she's going to be okay. Paul, a fucking bum bit the hell out of her neck and you're telling me to calm down? You fucking asshole. I can't believe I slept with you. I can't believe I was going to leave Eric for you. No, I don't feel bad that the bum bit you, too. No. No. It's over. No, it’s definitely over. You know how much my sister means to me. You fucking know it and you take her out on a date!" Her voice was growing louder and she realized this and caught herself. Her voice was much lower when she said, "You sleep with her and I'll fucking cut your dick off."

Feeling numb, Eric turned and staggered back to the bed. Unable to completely absorb the overhead conversation or believe it, he pulled the covers over him and lay there staring at the clock. It read 3:02.

In just two minutes, everything had just changed.

At her request, he had left his cell phone in the car, but she must have hid hers in her makeup case. And while he had staunchly avoided all calls, she was on the phone with Paul, her womanizing friend that Eric had never liked. Not only on the phone, but ragging on him for taking her sister, Rachel, out. That would have been understandable considering Paul's reputation, but to hear that she had cheated on him with that bastard was too much for Eric to bear. He closed his eyes, tears spilling around his lashes.

It was a nightmare and he just wanted to sleep. He would sleep and in the morning it would be okay. It would all be a nightmare. But his mind would not let him sleep and he could feel his heart pounding hard in his chest.

A few minutes later Brandy crawled into bed and snuggled up to his back. He could feel the tension in her body and he tried not to shirk from her touch. He remained still, pretending sleep, but she was soon thrashing around irritably, trying to get comfortable.

Sleep never came back to him and he watched the minutes on the clock changing then the hours. Brandy kept tossing and turning and crawled out of bed a few times to go to the bathroom. Each time he heard her voice faintly as she spoke on the phone. After the calls, she would return to bed to fidget even more.

Finally, the sun began to filter through the stained glass set in the windows after seven o'clock. Brandy slid out of bed again and went to the bathroom. When the door shut softly behind her, he sat up and slung his legs over the edge of the bed.

All night he had been tormented by the thought of her cheating on him and he knew without a doubt he loved her. He just didn't know what to do and he needed to have her explain to him, ask for forgiveness, anything to make it better. After four hours of sheer torture, he was ready to talk.

"What the hell are you saying? From a bite? My sister did not die from a bite! You're a fucking liar! I don't care if you're not feeling good. You're telling me my sister died? You're lying! You're lying!"

The bathroom door slammed open and Brandy stumbled out. She didn't even hide her phone smashed up against her ear. She plugged in the TV and hit the button to turn it on not even noticing Eric standing nearby.

"I don't understand. What do you mean? Why are you lying to me, Paul? What's on TV?"

Brandy hit the buttons to change the channel and suddenly the TV screen was full of images of bloodied people storming through a city street. They were attacking everyone in sight and the police were firing into the crowd. Eric felt his stomach twist hard as he saw the Texas Capital building in the background and realized they were showing Congress Street in Austin. Their home was in turmoil.

"Fuck you, Paul. I'm coming right now to take care of my sister." Brandy hung up and ran to the closet to pull out her luggage.

"Are you seeing this," Eric finally said.

"We're going back," Brandy answered firmly, her long streaked hair swinging around her face as she shoved her clothes into the suitcase.

"Are you seeing what is going on in Austin?" Eric looked at the screen and winced as the reporter's voice droned on and more scenes of what looked like National Guard soldiers shooting what appeared to be rabid people trying to attack them played out on the TV.

"The army is there. They'll fix it by the time I get there. Rachel is in the hospital. Some bum bit her last night and she's sick. She needs me," Brandy said. "Mom and Dad are in France and I need to be there."

"Brandy, are you actually paying attention to the news. You can't go back," Eric said in a voice that sounded strangely calm despite the trembling of his hands.

As she pulled on a pair of shorts, she glared at him fiercely. "Don't tell me what to do. The army is there. Get your stuff. We're going now!"

Eric reluctantly began to pull on his Dockers from the day before. The local Texas news cut to the national news. A map of the United States appeared with red dots surrounding several major cities. He sat down hard on the bed in shock as the ticker at the bottom of the screen told of the growing violence in the cities. He reached over and snagged the remote and turned up the sound.