Snippet #1347416

Sol had been up since before the sun had risen, preparing a light breakfast for himself and gathering up all the papers he'd need for his daily investigating, which probably wouldn't help him get through the checkpoints anyway, considering how tight security had gotten in the recent weeks. He grabbed his satchel and headed out the door, pulling it closed behind him. The streets had been rather dead lately, and today was no exception. As Sol made his way towards the shop on the corner, he slowed a bit to light a fag. He'd been meaning to quit, but it took the edge off and with all this Virus business, giving it up would have to wait.

"Fuck..." Sol mumbled as he looked up and noticed the shop was closed.

It was only a matter of time before everything closed down. He sighed and took a seat on nearby bench, which seemed a tad wonky and creaked beneath him. Sol took a drag, tilted his head back and blew the smoke into the air. It drifted above him for a moment and then dissipated. The sound of a siren in the distance caught his attention. It didn't seem very far off, and Sol stood to follow the loud wail to its source. Maybe this had been the lead he had been waiting for.

When he rounded the block, he could see a jam sandwich parked in the middle of the street, doors ajar and lights flashing. Sol approached slowly, removing a camera from his bag and checking the area for anything dodgy. Last week, he had run into a bit of trouble with Old Bill, and had almost gotten his lights punched out. With everyone in a panic, coppers had taken to shooting first and asking questions later, but his book was in need of first hand accounts, so he began snapping photos. The clicking of Sol's camera echoed in the almost empty region, causing another onlooker to take notice.

"Better be careful there, boyo. You'll get your head beaten in if they spot ya stealing candid moments like that" The stranger warned.

Sol smiled and snapped a picture of the man.

"Willing to take that chance" He chuckled politely. "What's going on?" Sol questioned, moving closer to the man.

He pointed to an alleyway near the cruiser and shook his head.

"Fuckin' Chav went mad and started attacking a woman. Fuzz chased him into that alley" The man explained. "I was close enough to see his eyes and it had to be The Virus. Absolutely mental, that one" He added.

Sol was shocked, because he'd yet to see a Carrier in person. He started his journey across the street to the alley, hoping to get a better view of the action. The stranger called out for him to stop, but his focus remained fixed on the flashing lights. About a stones throw away from the passenger side, several gunshots rang out, followed by a loud cry and footsteps. A chubby officer emerged from the darkness of the alley carrying an assault rifle, which had been the standard weapon of choice since the outbreak had started. Behind him, a young man with blood soaked clothing, bolted after the bobby and knocked him to the ground. Sol froze and observed the teen thrash at the officer's face violently. His first instinct was to run, but after a few steps he turned back and changed towards the quarrel.

The satchel he carried was heavy, and sent the Carrier stumbling into a wall. It quickly regained itself and turned its attention to Sol, who was planning for his next move. Before he could react, several rounds entered the man's chest, and he collapsed into a lifeless mound. Sol spun himself around, where several more Enforcers stood with their rifles at the ready.

"Don't fucking move!" One cried, his voice masked by his respirator.

Sol raised his hands into the air and slowly stepped closer to them.

"I'm not infected! Please don't shoot!" He pleaded.

One of the armed soldiers rushed to him and snatched his camera away. Before he could another word, the man smashed it upon the pavement.

"What the fuck, pig!?" Sol shouted in anger.

This harsh tone was met with the butt of the officer's weapon, which made contact with Sol's forehead. The world around him faded as he was plunged into the void. He'd remain unconscious for almost three hours, only waking once to find himself on the floor of a police transport van. He attempted to stand but drifted off again. Words were able to break through during his slumber, most of which concerned someone named Thomas West. The vehicle came to a sudden stop, and this is what jolted him back to reality.

Sol collected himself and crawled to his knees. A small screen separated him from the two Enforcers in the front driving, and he hoped they'd listen to what he had to say.

"What's happening? I didn't do anything!" He shouted at the men.

The driver, a burly man with a mustache, slapped the window with his palm.

"Shut the fuck up!" The man blasted. "You keep that fuckin' mouth of yours closed or I'll pull this van over and put a fuckin' bullet between your eyes!" The other one called back to him, laughing afterwards.

The driver exited, leaving the Sol alone with the passenger, who watched him in the mirror.

“Where are we?” Sol asked gently, hoping the man would answer this time.

The Enforcer chuckled a bit.

“Stopped to pick up an inmate. Everything’s a bit mucky, so we offered to pick him up” The man said, picking at his teeth. “A crazy one… Thom West. You ever hear about him?” He added quietly.

Sol didn’t answer, just remained quiet on the van floor.

“Hope he don’t take a bite outta you when Gregg throws him in with ya!” He laughed.

Sol scooted against the wall and sat watching the door. He doubted the inmate would bite him, but he didn’t want to offend him. He’d seriously fucked up and now he was off to god knows where. Horror stories had been whispered throughout the community. Tales of people who got too close to The Enforcers, with a camera or something of that nature. They were taken away and kept quiet, and Sol feared he was off to join the ones that had vanished.