Chapter 1

1.

I was driving to meet my real estate agent for the down payment when the group chat exploded with a video of a man biting someone.

In the shaky footage, a group of hazmat-suited responders were hoisting a blood-drenched body onto a stretcher.

The man on the stretcher twitched, then suddenly lunged at a responder, sinking his teeth into the man's neck. A spray of blood hit the air.

Screams and gunfire erupted simultaneously.

The thing that could no longer be called human took a dozen shots to the chest but kept moving, leaping onto a SWAT officer like a rabid beast.

The rhythmic popping of gunshots felt like it was hammering directly against my own heart.

A glimpse of the iconic Willis Tower in the background made the horror feel far too real.

My agent's call flashed on the dashboard, making me jump so hard I nearly shoved my phone under the pedals.

"Hello, Ms. Quinn? The seller is already here. How much longer will you be?"

I'd spent nearly a decade in Chicago, scraping by to save for a down payment on a fixer-upper. I was finally done with landlords and their passive-aggressive nonsense.

But right now, I wanted out.

The skyline I'd just seen in that video, combined with the carnage, filled me with a primal, life-threatening sense of dread.

"Hello? Ms. Quinn? Are you still there?" my agent prodded.

It was as if the city wanted to confirm my worst fears.

A caravan of black SWAT vehicles began racing against the flow of traffic toward the financial district.

The windows were tinted, but I caught a glimpse of a tactical officer in the passenger seat, his hands white-knuckling a submachine gun.

Something was horribly, irrevocably wrong.

These biting videos had been circulating for a week. They started abroad, but over the last few days, they'd hit home.

I'd even left snarky comments on government debunking posts, telling people to trust science and stop spreading rumors.

Now, the reality was spiraling into something beyond human imagination.

"I'm here. Listen, something urgent came up at home. I'm not buying the place."

I didn't wait for the agent's frantic protest.

I hung up, whipped the steering wheel around, and headed straight for the airport.