Granger County, 1987

By Day 10, Granger County is sealed under quarantine, cut off from the rest of Washington. The disaster began when a C-130 carrying a recovered Alaskan meteorite crashed into the county jail. Inside the aircraft had been a sarcophagus meant to contain an alien parasite, but the virus leaked mid-flight, infecting the crew and causing a struggle that brought the plane down. The impact unleashed both wreckage and the parasite into the jail, where confused correctional staff mistook the first violent transformations for a riot. Within hours, guards and inmates were dead or reanimated, and the infection began spreading into Barlow, the county seat. Local deputies and first responders were quickly overwhelmed. By the time outside authorities realized what was happening, fatalities were already in the hundreds. The Washington National Guard deployed armor, helicopters, and infantry to cordon off the county, while the CDC established a biological hazard perimeter. No one is permitted to leave—infected or not—under orders from Washington D.C., which fears Cold War embarrassment should word reach the Soviets. To the public, the official story is “domestic unrest.” Inside the county, chaos reigns. Barlow is a burned-out husk, with survivors hiding in pockets among the ruins. In the north, loggers at Cinder Falls fight back with shotguns, rifles, and chainsaws, turning their town into a survivor enclave. Farmland around Millstone is contaminated, livestock falling sick as water sources spread infection. Remote Pinecrest clings to hope, though its isolation may only delay the inevitable. The Guard patrols the perimeter with orders to shoot on sight. Communications are jammed, bridges destroyed, and roads cut. Rumors whisper that Washington is considering firebombing entire towns to erase the threat. Ten days in, Granger County is no longer a functioning community—it is a battlefield, its survivors trapped between the infected within and a military blockade without.