Apocalypticity

Twenty years ago, in 2007, a virus struck, and killed nations. Not much had changed since 2006. The only technological improvements were on useless things; mp3 players, mobiles, a small advance in high speed Jets. Medical science wasn’t ready; it still isn’t now. Countries have dwindled to sparse packs camped out whether they can.
I belong to one such pack. My name is Yukia Kindred. Yeah, I know, an asian first name with an English last. My mother was asian; I got her eyes, while my colouring is from my father. Once upon a time I used to dye my hair pink all the time, now I do it whenever I can. It boosts morals to see such startling brightness in the midst of gloom.
But I’m getting side-tracked. It’s something that tends to happen to a lot of us now. Steve told me it’s an instinctual way of avoiding something that hurts us. We all lost family and friends to this, and each day we live in the fear that we may actually be Humanoids, and the virus will catch us.
Oh right, hopefully you’re in a time when you don’t know the meaning that’s gained for us. Those of us who survived call ourselves Immunoids. The Virus doesn’t affect us. But there are still people who have only caught it recently, and still those who fall.
I had it, once. I am a VerImmunoid. It’s a name for us who are definitely immune, since we had it and survived. There are only three in my pack. Everyone else still has the chance of being a Humanoid.
We did it to ourselves. Unknowingly. There were still countries sick enough to be developing biological weapons. Diseases and viruses handled everyday, without the general public ever knowing.
One of the scientists slipped up. He spilt a liquidised form of a virus on his hands. Of course, being a smart man, he rushed to get decontaminated, and even spent a few days in Quarantine. It was a simple cold virus, something that was about to be used for splicing, but in this form no one even considered it being lethal.
What they didn’t know was that it had mutated. We still don’t understand why. It reached his bloodstream in nanoseconds, and had mutated to be resistant to the products used in decontamination. By the time the scientist had even crossed the room, it was already too late.
It might as well have been the Apocalypse. There are members among us who believe it was. God using our own sinful products to weed out the atrocious. A religion named Apocalypticity has spread it’s cruel fingers across the road. They slay those caught by the disease, even though it is possible they may recover.
And with the sheer multitude of things out there to kill us, I’m beginning to wonder myself. With the lack of workers to look after them, farm animals escaped out into the world and ate through crops. They multiplied, and predators slaughtered the excess. They were no longer hunted, and had a huge supply of readily available food. It was no wonder that their numbers rose sharply too.
Unfortunately, we are now caught in the time when the herbivorous creatures have been brutally culled by the carnivorous, and there are far fewer than necessary of them. But the predators have only just begun to feel this sudden lack. They are still terribly high in number, and in their desperation, they have turned upon us. At the moment, they are testing us. Learning to dodge our guns and seeing how far they can push. Two have been lost from my pack already. A man… and a young child, hunting for pretty things in the silent woods. Fire no longer seems to hold the beasts off, and even the deaths of their peers by shotgun seem only to tempt them on.
I fear that the human race does not have much longer on this planet. I desperately hope our last bid for survival succeeds.
There are too many unknowns.