After visiting the bathroom at the shelter, making sure I look at least half-decent, walk to my car, taking a bit of a detour. Then search for the closest 'Cash advance place' I can find and enter the place. Try to apply for, well, cash.
You make yourself look decent -not hard, it's not like the asylum didn't take care of you- and then drive maybe a block down before finding a cash advance play called Moneybush.
It's a little white building, remarkably clean and well maintained compared to the buildings around it, and populated with men and women in smart little uniforms and forced smiles, all bathed in too-bright florescent light. The people inside are all too happy to take your card, skim through your information, whisper something about 400% interest rates, and then offer you a paper to sign, with a blank box for how much money you want.
(( Oh national guard, you will be helpful I'm sure. 
Still trying to decide if you've just doomed us or if you've just bought us a few more days of stability, Xan. Either way, should be interesting! ))
Okay... maybe not that cheap.
Search for more expensive housing (let's say 200-300$ a month), look up cash advance shops in the area, and attempt to use a reputable website to check my credit score.
Try to get a sense of on what scale the incidents are occurring based on where reports are currently coming from.
See if anyone in the local medical community is reaching out for information or assistance concerning the events at the hospital.
You find stuff in your price range. It's definitely nicer but still a pretty shit place to live. You don't particularly like how they keep assuring you that it's "Clean". Yes, they included the quotes.
As per your credit score, it's alright. The whole downward spiral didn't help things much, but you think you still have the rating to get a few thousand dollars out as a lone. You just won't be financing a mortgage or anything.
Scale of the incidents or of their spread? The incidents themselves seem to be fairly small most of the time; only in hospitals where doctors make up a large percent of the people around to they really get out of control. In terms of spread, hard to say. it's not just around here though; and not just in America either. It's popping up all over the place. As per people reaching out for help, you don't really find any of that.
Renewed by a doctor. Have they been checking the news? Well... honestly, it was probably worth checking to see if Dr. Andrews, the doctor that had prescribed the pills, had been affected. His office would be closed now, but it was worth checking to see if there was a weird message on his machine.
Call the office to see if Dr. Andrews had been affected- tell by checking for strange message on answering service. Don't bother leaving message.
You grab your phone and give the doctor a call. It rings...rings some more...rings even more and then clicks on to an automated recording system. The sterile, robotic voice prompting you to leave your message is clearly something that just came with the system. It seems as though no one is around.
Ffffffaaaack
Christmas
It was the tree
Glurg
...
Motor over to the local police station - it's probably more secure than my place anyhow.
You drive over to the police station, a tiered, concrete building relatively near your home with an enormous blue "POLICE" emblazoned on it. The parking lot is basically deserted as you pull in; police cruisers, unmarked cars, even the detective's cars are almost completely gone. It's not a promising start.
You park your bike near the entrance and walk inside; the double solid oak doors are heavier then you remembered and you have to shoulder through them to get in. The lobby hasn't changed, all white walls and gray tile with fake wood paneling around a reception desk that's recessed into the wall and protected by bullet proof glass. The only thing you don't recognize is the receptionist; Jackson must have been promoted or left, because instead of a heavy set black man with an uncanny resemblance to Carl Winslow the desk is occupied by a pale, ginger haired, freckled woman who looks to be no more then 5 feet tall. You've never seen her around before; she must be from after your time.
This complicates things somewhat. It's gonna be hard to talk your way into the station without any proof you were a cop, especially when this new receptionist doesn't know you.
Perhaps the man from the lobby had a point...
Samuel goes and gets his revolver out of his gunsafe, and checks how much ammunition he has, and also checks how much cash he has on-hand and that his wallet has his bank card. He gets his shoulder holster (which he puts the revolver in) and his other coat (left his usual one in his office), then heads down to the local firing range and checks prices on ammunition and time in the range.
You open your gunsafe and and take out your revolver and the box of ammo you keep in there with it. The box, which you've opened before, ran your finger tips across the shells and then closed, contains 50 rounds. With your six shot revolver thats...8 full loads with 2 left over. You put the revolver in it's holster without loading it and swap your lab coat for your spare, older brown coat. It's a little less comfortable, but it will do. You don't have any cash on you, but you know you have 8000 in the bank, which should be more then enough for anything you need from the range.
You drive out toward the nearest range you know of, which is attached to a gunshop up north in the commercial district of town. The Tight Cluster is an independent little shop owned by the type of guy who wears camo vests and hiking boots at all times. He's friendly enough, but always wears an air of superiority around anyone who didn't personally kill what they ate that morning. He informs you that time on the range is a flat rate of 20 bucks, and ammo prices vary depending on which kind you want.
Toaster:8:40pm
Pyro: 2:00 pm
Kri: 10:50 Am
Radio: 2:15 pm
Xan: 4:55 pm
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Topic: THE END IS NEAR : Warning: May be more rational than reality. (Read 48758 times)