Authors: N.C. Reed
Those in power always had a fallback position, and as the dark clouds of disaster rolled over them they scurried away like rats deserting a sinking ship. Unfortunately for many of them, several of their number had been exposed to the virus and hid that fact, carrying that sickness into the bunkers and retreats and hideaways of the world's most powerful rulers.
Some would survive, but many more would not. Those who did survive would find their power base eroded, their authority and the ability to enforce it gone. Anarchy in its truest form would rule the world for a long time to come.
The only good news was that the virus was as deadly as it was virulent. Ringo's observations had been right on the money. Those driven mad by it would ignore water and food; ignore injuries and illnesses, medicines and treatments. It would take some time, in many cases a long time, but eventually the infected began to die of dehydration, heart attack, stroke, high or low blood sugar, bleeding wounds that refused to clot, the list was as long as one's imagination. The infected may have conquered the earth, but they would not live to rule over it.
That would rest in the hands of those few who remained.
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