For unbeknownst to the Mayor, the citizens, and even the victims themselves, there had been something else aboard that ship.  Something had slithered onto the shore, undetectable by any of the human senses, clinging to the bodies of the victims, living and dead.  The feds had picked up on it first, but weren’t 100% sure just what it was. Not wanting to set off any alarms, they tried to quietly set up a mobile camp on the beach to try and isolate the information they had found.  Guards stood outside the tent, ordered to keep hidden what and who was inside.  Rumors and whispers began to spread…what could be going on at the beach?  Who were the people and what was the government up to?  Why was there a need for such high security?  Even the mayor began getting nervous, suddenly being stone-walled by his federal ‘partners’.  While all this was happening, slowly and quietly, people started to get sick.  It hit those aboard the ship first and some of those who had early contact with the victims and so on, the spread having no rhyme or reason that could be isolated.  Had to be the change in weather….or maybe it was just the regular flu-it was cold and flu season after all.  But more people kept getting this ‘cold’ and they just couldn’t shake the coughing, sneezing and fever.     Little did they know, the early symptoms were the most tame…

Suddenly the camp by the beach was empty, the feds having slipped out in the middle of the night, leaving only some tents and a few cots.  A fax to the mayor told him to isloate or possibly even quarantine those who were ill, while they continued to try and find out what this was. Of course, they would be working on it over on Atlanta, far from the hotspot itself, leaving security,  safety and treatment of the sick to the city.

The mayor stared at the fax, terrified and boiling with rage, screaming orders at his staff…what would he do with a city full of sick people, a disease that seemed to be spreading, and barely any resources to combat any of this?

-----------

Time would pass, and those in the cargo hold of the ship would lose track of the days that had gone by, being provided the bare essentials to make it to their final destination. What no one counted on was the rough seas, or the knowledge level of the crew.  For this crew was a ragtag group of human traffickers and criminals, led by a washed up captain who has had his fair share of “accidents.”  It was supposed to be a routine run of human cargo when the seas refused to cooperate.  The mix of booze, drugs and rough weather sent the ship slamming into something in the middle of the night.  All hands on deck went about bailing out the ship; but the crew’s lack of efficiency and training caused them to lose much of their supplies. The weak and sickly were sacrificed first as the cargo ship drifted aimlessly with the tide.  And then most of the crew and security bailed, locking steerage and the poor souls trapped beneath with little food, water and no sanitation.  Only a few of the guards and crew stayed behind, figuring dying with the ship would be better than their bosses figuring out they had left the merchandise. Days would pass and the people locked below were forced to engage in unspeakable acts just to survive, as they had been forced to do in the warehouse.  When was this horror show going to end?  Just then, another storm hits, whipping the ship wildly about.  Many feared death was imminent while others prayed that it would all end quickly. More and more water pours in.  Some in the damaged areas of the ship are swept out into the unforgiving sea.  After what seems like ages, a moment of calm breaks through the howling winds and rain.  The captives wait with baited breath as the thumping of boots is heard above them. Where exactly were they? Were these the sounds of their saviors?  Will they find peace or will they be haunted by that which they witnessed?  And what of their captors--will the merchandise be hunted by those to whom they belong or will they be free to start a new life?  Only time will tell...