Edmund Remington's Story

Edmund Remington

Appearance, money, and dance. That's all Edmund truly ever cared about.

He breezed into a top-notch clothing store, adjusting his glasses every few seconds. God help Edmund if his precious eyewear were to ever fall off. His vision would abruptly switch from perfect high definition to unfocused and horribly blurry. Thank goodness this tragedy has not yet happened to Edmund, as he would most definitely flop and clunk around all over the place, struggling to see with his poor eyes. Also, the glasses he's owned for so many years actually boosted his already high self-esteem and made Edmund feel as if he was the most handsomest man in the whole world, or at least the city of Los Angeles.

After almost an hour, Edmund had spent a large amount of money and sauntered out of the store with his shopping bags at his hand. He was awfully cheerful that day, which was rather unusual; showing emotions wasn't exactly something seen from Edmund, and he himself was taken aback by how joyful he felt. Most of the time, he experienced a mellow, calm sort of feeling and it almost always stayed like that. Something just seemed so special about that day that Edmund's heart decided to burst out in bliss.

Too caught up in his little world of jubilation, the phone call from his student Edmund received on his cell phone didn't seem important at all.

"Hello, Edmund speaking," he answered, positioning his phone between his cheek and shoulder.

"Edmund, where are you? It's almost noon and your students are waiting for you!" cried the voice on the other line.

"Oh my. I'm sorry Therese, I'm on my way. You know me, once I start shopping, I can't stop."

Speeding up his pace and gently making his way through a crowd of bustling people, Edmund slipped his phone into his shopping bag and sighed with relief. He had completely forgotten that he had a class with his students that day and was relieved that he would be able to once again do the thing he loved most: dance.

The citizens of Los Angeles seemed to be on the same bright wavelength of emotion as Edmund and the sidewalks were crowded with loud, perky people. This made it almost impossible for poor, lazy Edmund to be able to make it back to his dance studio in time. Physical activity was never an option for him unless it had anything to do with the art of dance. Dashing through the front door of his studio and noticing all of his students sitting on the floor anxiously, Edmund sighed and dropped his shopping bags down to the floor.

"I sincerely apologize for my late arrival. As we all know, Mr. Remington loves to shop. If it weren't for Therese," pointing at his first student ever, Theresa, Edmund smiled, "I probably would still be spending my money and would have left all of you poor dears just sitting here waiting for me all day."

His students chuckled as they stood, all dressed in their appropriate dance attire. There were about ten of them. They had all began instruction under Edmund just a week ago, except for Therese, who had been around ever since Edmund started teaching. All of them began their usual warm ups in the awfully large dancing space in the studio. The wooden floors were shiny, just how Edmund liked it.

"Enough warming up for today. Now, I have to touch base on some of you about your postures."

Now completely focused, Edmund at last finally lost the unusual feeling of happiness and became calm. He could tell that that whole day was going to be the best he had ever had. A shopping spree and an extra day of teaching aspiring dancers was pretty much what could make Edmund's day.

"Energy, girl, energy," indicated the dance instructor as he positioned one of his student's chin up, "You're moving like a zombie."

Edmund Remington

"Wonderful, Therese. I'm very proud of you."

Edmund elegantly clapped for all of his students as they completed the routine they were currently working on. Therese, obviously the most experienced of all her classmates, had managed to impress everyone with her graceful moves and gestures. It had been a few hours since class started and Edmund had managed to teach them the rest of the routine before the end of class.

After the students changed back to their everyday wear, they gathered their belongings and prepared to leave. Edmund gave them all a warm goodbye and adjusted his glasses before taking a look at the bags of clothes he purchased earlier that day. Now that he was alone, changing into the outfits and using the mirror to his advantage would be perfect. Grabbing a random bag, Edmund headed to the changing rooms and put on the clothes. He then turned all of the studio's lights on and adored himself in the large mirror placed in front of the dancing space.

"Handsome, as always."

Therese appeared out of nowhere, a small grin on her face. She was basically mocking her teacher's vanity with no shame or humility at all. Edmund let out a soft laugh.

"This black sweater fits perfect over my shirt. Black and white: the perfect combination," jokingly spinning around to show Therese all of the outfit, Edmund looked up and down at his own reflection, "I know I'm fashionable. No need to remind me, Therese."

"Of course, I never have to remind you. You remind yourself all the time."

Therese slowly glided towards Edmund, her hands behind her back. She was acting very unusual; the majority of the time, Therese was bubbly and talkative. However, at that moment, she seemed shy and secretive.

"Is everything all right, Therese? Why didn't you leave with the others? Class is over."

Now feeling a bit awkward as Therese continued to make her way closer to him, Edmund crossed his arms and began to step back. The lights began to flicker, making the situation have a creepy feeling.

"Edmund, I've always adored you very much," whispered Therese, now almost face-to-face with Edmund. She brought her arms in front of her and in her hands was a rose with a note, "ever since you began teaching me, I admit, I began to obsess over you.

Edmund swallowed, sweat beginning to form at his forehead. This girl was almost ten years younger than him and was now pronouncing her long-time love for him; things could not get worse. Grabbing the rose and taking another step back, Edmund nodded at Therese and motioned to the door. "Look, I'm flattered, but you're just too young for me. I think you should leave."

The room was silent. Therese looked down at the shiny floor with a look of major disappointment; the man she had loved for so long rejected her. Edmund looked above as the lights began to flicker. One completely went out. "I completely forgot to pay the light bill," muttered Edmund, trying to fill in the awkward silence between him and Therese. The light that went out was joined by another and soon enough, all the lights just died all together.

"You're right, I should leave," uttered Therese, still looking at the ground.

Click!

Edmund's attention was turned to the front door. It was too dark to notice, but there was now someone else in the room. The person left the door open and were making their way towards the two.

"Sorry, I left my bag here. Did you guys notice how crazy it is outside? Everyone's panicking over something."

It was just one of Edmund's students. He turned on his phone's flash to aid him find his bag in the darkness. Therese sighed and began her way out of the studio. Edmund sighed with relief, glad that the situation was over. He looked over to the student who left his bag and was about to say something when a shriek rang out by the open front door.

Edmund and his student immediately looked at the door. On the ground was Therese, her eyes wide open in horror and her body shaking. There was a pool of blood forming around her head and there seemed to be a bloody bite mark on her neck.

"Holy fuck!" cried out Edmund's student, and he immediately dashed to the hallway that led to the emergency exit. Edmund just stood there in shock, his hands shaking. Mumbling Therese's name, Edmund raced to her. As soon as he reached her, he spotted a horrifying, human-like figure feeding away on Therese's lower body.

"Oh my God."

Whatever was eating away at Therese looked up and took notice of Edmund. It stared at him and was about to pounce when a noise out in the streets stole it's attention. Whoever or whatever made the sound was probably delicious to the human-like creature as it hurdled towards it, completely forgetting about Therese or Edmund.

"Ed-Edmund. P-Ple-Please, help," her body was shaking and some of the blood began to turn into disgusting shades of green and black. Edmund desperately wanted to assist her but knew that there was probably nothing he could do; Therese was a goner for sure and he was lucky that the thing that was eating her was distracted by something. There were screams outside and Edmund didn't take the chance to see who was the creature's next victim; he quickly sped his way out of the emergency exit in the back and looked for a place he could take shelter in.

A few minutes away from the dance studio was the news station and there was an awfully large amount of people running around near it. Not wanting to stay in the same spot too long in fear of the creature finding him again, Edmund had no care in the world and just dashed as fast as he could towards the news station; in his mind, being around a large group of people when there's flesh-eating things running around was way better than being alone. After a few minutes of running in the open, he finally reached a point where he joined in with the crowd of bustling people. Edmund checked his pockets and realized that he left his phone back in his old pants at the studio.

"My luck," he mumbled. Turning his head towards the news station, which he found himself in front of, Edmund felt the need to barge in. He could definitely learn more about the chaos going on in there, with all the large amounts of televisions and radios in there. Plus, his uncle, Charlie, was the assignment editor there and he would most surely know lots about the situation with the human-eaters.

Harper Hopkins


Steve was waiting for Harper as she rushed to his office, ascending the stairs with Chuck.

He was tall and thin, with salt-and-pepper hair and an air of tension about him wherever he went. Everything had to be done quickly, whether it was ordering coffee, tying his tie, or even a visit to the doctor. At the moment his hair, usually neatly coiffed, was ruffled. He'd removed his suit jacket and rolled up his oxford blue sleeves up around his pointy elbows. He'd long ripped off his tie. His face was lined with concern and fraught with nerves, and his hands were shoved into his pockets.

Harper caught the look on his face the moment she whirled into the newsroom and spotted him standing up straight as a rail in his office door frame. She'd come to appreciate his mannerisms over the months she'd spent at WEND, but this was a look she'd never seen before.

"Hopkins!" he called out from his side of the newsroom, shouting out over the sound of phones ringing. The landlines hadn't gone out yet. "Did McDonald bring b-roll? Evans is looking for it."

She flicked the SD card from their dashcam at the aforementioned editor, who rushed it down to the edit bay to cycle it into the video rotation. Through the large plexiglass window looking into the studio she could see George and Maxine at the desk, shuffling through papers and glancing up at the camera while speaking. They obviously weren't relying on the teleprompter, but instead relying on expedient handing-off of new scripts and snippets of information ferreted from the newsroom. The corner of the studio with the greenscreen reserved for weather was dark. Weather was not the most sought-after topic on tonight's broadcast.

"What's the plan?" she zapped out as she hurried in, dropping her bag on her desk.

"First off, let me just say I'm glad you're here," Steve started. "We had Reeves out there, but we lost the signal with the live truck about an hour ago."

Harper's face drained of its color. "You don't mean--"

"No, I don't know what happened," he interrupted impatiently, "but whatever it is, it isn't good. If he and Ann got out safe, then they're on their way. But we need you up on the roof."

"The sun's down!" Harper interjected furiously, pointing out the window at the dark violet sky. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Steve raised his hands and waved them. "We've got no live truck," he emphasized again, calmer than usual. "You're the only reporter here."

Harper opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. She looked over her shoulder at the newsroom. George and Maxine had been working at the station for at least two decades, but no longer had reporting duties. Producers and editors shuffled their way from desk to desk, answering phones, taking down notes, and typing updates and printing them for submission to the anchors on the desk.

There were zero reporters in this newsroom. Except for her.

Her mouth hung halfway open in shock as she turned back to Steve. Her lower lip quivered uncharacteristically. She wanted to throw up.

"Harper," Steve said slowly. She'd never seen him handle a serious crisis, or heard him call her by her first name, but now she realized that this usually-buzzing character was hired as News Director of a top-market station for a reason: he was cool under duress. He moved his forearms in front of him and gently held the sides of her arms, and looked her right in the eyes. "I hired you for a reason. I hired you because I know you'll do what it takes. Get your IFB, grab a mic, and head out on the roof. Schantz is already up on the roof with a camera ready to go."

She stared back, and pulled herself together. She swallowed reflexively and nodded, glancing briefly at the family photos on Steve's office walls. He was keeping it together despite having several reasons to be scared, himself. "You got it, Steve," she responded weakly, and quickly ran to her desk to pull out her earpiece. She fished her compact out of her bag to check her makeup, quickly blotted her face with a bit of foundation and blush, smeared gloss on her lips, and took off for the elevator after snatching her bag from the desk.

The ride up felt like an eternity, the first several seconds that she had in hours where she'd stood still. She wondered if this was happening all over the city. She wondered if this was only happening in L.A., or if it was happening in more places. What about her parents? What about her friends? Her brothers? Her sister? Her grandparents? Were they worried about her like she was worrying about them? She started to think again about Steve's family pictures again.

The elevator door opened the instant that her stomach squeezed into a ball. She looked around for a brief second, found that she was alone, and vomited into the trash can beside the elevator door. She stared at the white wall blankly for a moment to refocus herself, then spat the remnants out of her mouth, yanked a Kleenex from her bag and dragged it across her mouth, then set straight out for the double-doors leading out onto the roof.

She burst through and caught Schantz's eye as she hurriedly paced toward her. Tara Schantz was another photographer, who had always expressed preference for doing rooftop shoots, and had been working at WEND for about four years. "Harp, it's you!" she exclaimed. "Steve just told me to come up here and wait for whoever he could send up. I'm really glad to see you."

Harper tossed her the other end of her IFB, and Schantz tossed her a mic. Schantz plugged the connector into a box by her feet while Harper clipped the lavaliere mic on her shirt collar. She paused for a moment to look over the ledge of the building, up several stories from the ground. Street lights lit the ground sparsely, aided by the glows emanating from buildings. Car alarms blared down from the newsroom parking lot as a vehicle screeched around. On another side of the building, a crowd of people just like the secretary, Ross, and others they'd seen on the road swarmed a red Corvette. In other spots, people who still seemed to possess life about them ran toward buildings, zipping about, some carrying children or helping others limping along. Her heart sank as she thought about what the UCLA Medical Center must have been like at the moment, and what those with the children must be thinking.

"Ready?" Schantz broke in, aiming the camera lens coolly at her face and focusing. She flicked on the camera's light. It seemed as though either she wasn't bothered by the whole thing, or that it hadn't sunk in yet... or she just wasn't going to let any concern cross her face. "They're going to toss to you soon."

Harper's IFB flickered on. Maxine's voice filled her ear.

"Welcome back. You'll notice that the station currently isn't airing advertisements but instead we're airing public service announcements from the United States Department of Homeland Security, urging you to stay in your homes and remain safe. We at WEND-TV are urging you to do the same thing."

George's voice. "One of our reporters made it back to the station and we've got her live on the roof of WEND-TV... Joining us now is Harper Hopkins. Harper, are you up there?"

Harper's eyes shot up to the camera's eye. The way Steve had made it sound, they simply needed someone to tell them what was going on down below. She understood why he sent her up above now. Her brain flexed quickly into the uncomfortable position of being the person in front of the camera being interviewed. "George, Maxine, I'm here," she responded in a conversational manner.

"Harper, describe the day you've had and how you got back."

"Well, the day started out with WEND-TV photographer Nathan McDonald and I heading out to interview Hollywood's Calvin Hawke. While we were there, we encountered a couple of, uh..." her brain scrambled for the right words.

"Walkers," George's voice broke in, "we hear that they're being referred to as walkers."

Without skipping a beat, Harper coolly pressed forward. "Thanks, George. We encountered a few walkers at our interview location and had to leave. We managed to climb out of the building after a Jeep crashed into the side of it and started a fire. We got into our WEND-TV news van and left. We actually brought Mr. Hawke with us. That's the short version of the story."

"Harper," Maxine started, "you came into contact with these walkers. What do you recommend to our viewers that they should do in case they encounter one?"

Harper blinked and felt her stomach jump again. This was heavy, to be making life-or-death recommendations to whoever may be watching. "Well, the best thing to do is to avoid them entirely. If you're in a safe place, stay there and do not risk coming across one at all. That's the first thing. But if you can't stay where you are because you're in a dangerous place, grab something to defend yourself with. A long object like a bat or a golf club might be the best thing. If you have a firearm, even better. You have to keep them away from you. They're very strong. Keep your eyes open and move quickly to where you have to go to be safe. But I really don't recommend moving anywhere unless you absolutely have to."

"WEND-TV's Harper Hopkins, joining us on the station's rooftop," Maxine summarized for those who may have recently tuned in, "Harper, can you describe what's going on around you?"

Schantz plucked the camera off of its heavy tripod, and Harper moved along to step toward and gesture at the street. Schantz pointed the camera downward as Harper spoke off-camera. "Obviously there are walkers out on the streets, and people who are working to scramble to a safe place," she narrated. "You can see cars through the streets. Walkers are coming after the cars. What you're seeing now really ought to show you why you need to stay indoors and out of harm's way-"

"Harper, can we rely on you to stay up on the roof and provide us with updates from time to time?" Maxine interrupted quickly. "We've got a few new breaking news updates."

The camera turned back to Harper. "Sure thing," she responded politely, "back to you, Maxine and George."

# # #

Down in the studio, Steve himself handed a paper to George, only his hand and shoulder visible on viewers' televisions. George popped his eyes on and off the sheet and the camera as he read through the updates.

"We're getting reports that traffic is at a standstill on all outbound lanes. The U.S. Department of Homeland Security, the State of California, and the Los Angeles Police Department highly recommend that you stay in your homes. All medical centers and hospitals are asking media outlets to spread the word that no more emergency patients are being accepted at this time and all ambulances are occupied."

He continued to sputter off news updates from the sheets, inwardly panicking at having to read these unbelievably grim sentences.

# # #

Nathan shoved his foot down on the gas pedal, burning black marks onto the pavement as the van hurled forward, sending the small crowd of walkers throwing themselves on the hood of the van reeling backwards. Nathan grinned at the satisfying crunching noises from below his feet and kept the van on a hard trek forward. He flipped down the driver's seat visor and jammed his thumb on the garage door opener, whirling the van toward the opening door.

Calvin's eyes were flashing giddily as the vehicle pulled into the safe bay. Nathan quickly thumped the button again in order to hasten the door's closing. The thick, heavy metal doors careened down steadily as walkers stumbled toward them, closing just in time to keep them out.

After the door thudded shut, Nathan leaned back in his seat, looking up at the broken sunroof and laughed hysterically. "HOLY SHIT!" he shouted, "dude, I canNOT believe we just pulled that shit off!"

Calvin let himself laugh for a moment. "You're... you're not kidding," he said, his head spinning. "I wasn't really sure what was going to happen for a bit there."

Nathan opened his door, exited, and beckoned for Calvin to follow. He inspected the outside of the van... messy bloody prints were everywhere. The smell was horrendous. Nathan stopped in his tracks when he noticed a series of long scratches, peeling the paint off in messy chips. A fingernail was embedded into the end of the trail. He let out a sigh of relief for being on the inside, and not on the outside again with them.

The stairwell ended up being safe after keying in. They hustled up the stairs and entered the newsroom. Nathan nodded to the other staff in there, about eight that he could spot.

"Nathan." Charlie waved his hand at the pair, standing beside a tall, handsome man with glasses who looked extremely uncomfortable.

Nathan stared at the stranger briefly. "Who's Mr. Cool, over here?" he asked quickly.

"Nathan, this is my nephew, Edmund." Nathan reached out to shake Edmund's hand. "He came here because it's safe."