The Fall of the CDC

Day 12 – The Breaking Point

The walls of the last stronghold of science were about to come down.

Dr. Evelyn Carter stood in the CDC command center, surrounded by the few remaining scientists and security personnel, listening to the sound of gunfire echoing through the facility.

The attack had come at dawn.

A mob of survivors had gathered outside the CDC’s heavily fortified gates for days, demanding entry, medicine, food—anything.

But this morning, those demands had turned into an invasion.

Evelyn could see them on the security monitors—dozens of desperate people, swarming past the broken fences, armed with whatever they could find.

Security officers were already falling back, their ammunition running low.

The CDC was going to fall.

And Evelyn had to decide if she was going to die with it.

"Dr. Carter, we need to move—now!"

Evelyn barely registered Dr. Julian Cross’s voice as he grabbed her arm, trying to drag her away from the control room.

Her eyes were locked on the monitors.

She watched as the last line of CDC security—a group of heavily armed officers—made their final stand near the front lobby.

They were outnumbered and exhausted. The attackers—civilians, looters, some former military—didn’t care about orders or protocols anymore.

A Molotov cocktail smashed against the security checkpoint, exploding into flames.

The guards scattered.

A second later, the mob surged forward.

The security feed cut to static.

Evelyn inhaled sharply. The CDC was lost.

"We need to get to the lower levels," Cross insisted. "There’s a way out through—"

An explosion rocked the building.

The lights flickered. Screams echoed from somewhere down the hall.

Evelyn forced herself to move.

"Where’s Patel?" she asked as she followed Cross down the emergency stairwell.

"He’s dead," Cross said grimly. "Took a bullet trying to stop them from getting into the labs."

Evelyn felt a sharp pang of grief, but she didn’t have time to process it.

Patel had fought until the very end.

Now it was her turn.

The lower levels of the CDC were supposed to be a sanctuary.

Now, they were just another death trap.

A handful of remaining scientists and medical staff had barricaded themselves in one of the storage rooms—pale, exhausted, clutching useless research papers like they still meant something.

One of them—Dr. Morgan, an epidemiologist Evelyn barely knew—looked up with hollow eyes as she entered.

"Is it over?" he asked weakly.

Evelyn didn’t answer.

"Where’s Patel?" another scientist whispered.

Cross shook his head. "Dead."

Silence.

Evelyn forced herself to stay focused. "We have to leave. There’s an underground access tunnel that leads to the old research annex. It might not be breached yet."

Someone laughed bitterly. "And then what?"

Evelyn turned.

It was Dr. Claire Holloway, a microbiologist who had been part of the original task force studying HNV-37.

She looked haggard, broken. Her lab coat was stained with blood—probably not her own.

Evelyn swallowed hard. "We get out of Atlanta. We regroup."

"And do what, Carter?" Holloway demanded. "Find a cure? Keep working?"

Evelyn set her jaw. "That’s exactly what we do."

Holloway let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You don’t get it, do you?" She gestured around the room. "Look at us. Look at what’s happening outside! We lost! Science lost!"

The words hit harder than Evelyn expected.

Because some part of her knew Holloway was right.

The world had given up on science a long time ago.

And now, science was giving up on the world.

A gunshot rang out from down the corridor.

The survivors went rigid.

More shouts followed. The looters were inside the lower levels now.

They were out of time.

Evelyn clenched her fists. "We’re leaving. Now."

She turned to Cross. "How many people can we move?"

Cross hesitated. "Not all of them."

Evelyn swallowed hard. "Then we take who we can."

Holloway let out a shuddering breath. "I’m staying."

Evelyn’s head snapped toward her. "What?"

Holloway gave a tired smile. "You can go play hero if you want, Carter. I’m done."

Evelyn stared at her.

She didn’t understand it. Giving up wasn’t an option. Not for her.

But looking around the room, she realized she was the only one who still believed that.

She turned away, her throat tight.

"Let’s go," she said softly.

The underground access tunnel led to a service exit on the far side of the complex, near an overgrown field that had once been a secure research testing site.

The group moved quickly, silently, their footsteps echoing in the dim corridor.

Evelyn’s pulse pounded in her ears.

Almost there.

Then—

"Stop."

The voice sent ice down her spine.

A man stood at the exit, rifle in hand.

Not a looter.

Not one of the civilians from the mob.

A soldier.

His uniform was dirty, his face streaked with sweat and exhaustion, but the patch on his arm was still visible.

U.S. Military.

Evelyn’s breath caught. "You’re… you’re military. We need help—"

The soldier’s hands tightened around his rifle.

And that’s when Evelyn saw the look in his eyes.

Not relief.

Not recognition.

Just cold resignation.

"There’s no help left," he said.

Then he raised the gun.

Cross shoved Evelyn to the ground just as the soldier opened fire.

The first bullets slammed into the wall behind them, sending chunks of concrete flying.

Cross grabbed Evelyn by the wrist. "RUN!"

She didn’t need to be told twice.

The group scattered, sprinting through the overgrown field as bullets tore through the grass around them.

Evelyn didn’t look back.

She just ran.

Ran until the gunfire faded into the distance.

Ran until the CDC was nothing more than a smoldering nightmare behind her.

Ran until she realized she was now just like everyone else.

A scientist with no lab.

A doctor with no patients.

A survivor with nowhere left to go.