20:03 August, 2024.
The white numbers on the digital clock projected themselves against the back spackled wall of Eric's family ranch house. He was a stocky guy, and muscled. From the new land deal the Arklays struck with the government, Eric just so happened to grab twenty more workable acres.
All and all, he was the kind of guy The Big Boss himself got along with. Quiet fellow, a specialist on a few really intricate topics, and always remembered his friends. He sat drinking a beer on the front porch with Hunk and Hawk while she and Vector pretended to be reasonable people in his living room and wait for them to finish talking about "the escapee".
The escapee was a horse nicknamed by avid racing fans "Sleipnir". It was a huge breeding stud whose racing days made Eric the money he had today in Kentucky. The animal been retired for years, but he still made them money passing his genes down to the highest bidders.
Sleipnir had gotten loose, and before Carla could even ask why this was something they were dealing with, Eric showed them a few of the buck racks they'd found this season. Attached to malformed skulls, they weren't mounted in the barn as much as they were collected. Bone tumors and horns grew out of the sockets and between the cancerous looking horns.
"It's been happening for years," she heard from the porch. Crickets and cicadas were trilling.
"It's the T-Virus. It must have found a vector locally," she murmured in the low light to Vector. Their television was re-running old public broadcast programs.
