Immunity

"We're back now with the latest updates on-" The channel changed, one reporter swapped for another.

"-The National Guard has already been mobilized" again, the channel changed. This time, a cartoon replaced the reporters.

David Barrett put the remote down on the faux wooden table in front of him and closed his eyes. He brought his hands to his temples and began rubbing in small circles. It was too much to listen to, especially when it was all the news was covering. He didn't care about some washed up fishing trawler out in California. He didn't care about what they found inside. They could keep it and the trouble it was causing out West, away from his Pennsylvania.

He lowered the volume on the TV and folded his hands in his lap. Having gotten home only a half hour before, it was easy for him to start dozing. He never liked the morning shift at the grocery. It always left him drowsy for the rest of the day. And since he had pulled a double, it wasn't long until he began feeling himself drift closer and closer to sleep. It was just before he started dreaming when his cell phone began ringing.

The ring tone was one of his favorite songs, and he let it play for a moment, his eyes still closed, before finally fishing it out and looking at the caller ID. Seeing who it was, he swiped the screen and accepted the call.

"What's up, Michael?" He greeted his friend over the phone.

"Oh you know, just making sure you're all caught up on the news."

"Shut up." But Dave couldn't help but smile. "You know it's all I watch."

"I bet. Hey," his friend continued, "you doing anything tonight?" Dave looked at his watch, an old and scratched up analog, and saw that it was going on five in the afternoon. His stomach rumbled.

"Well, I was probably going to grab something to eat soon. Why?"

"Well," his friend began, dragging out the word, "I got this little 'ol board game just sitting here on my table right now. It looks just so alone right now, like it needs a friend or something." Dave rolled his eyes as his friend continued, his voice now at a higher pitch.

"I just wanna have somebody pway with me!"

"You're an idiot." Dave said, a smile on his face.

"C'mon, man. You have to get out of your apartment. It's been ages since any of us have seen you."

"I know." He stood as he spoke, his knees popping. "I know. It's not my fault."

"Well, come on then!"

"Is it Risk again?" There was a pause as he waited for Michael to answer. He stretched his limbs and barely contained a yawn.

"It might be." His friend finally said. "I guess you'll just have to come over to find out."

"Do you really want me to embarrass you again?"

"You only won because Paul was being a sore loser." Micheal's reply was sharp.

"Okay, sure, Mike."

"I'm serious!" David could almost see Michael, his free arm probably raised in protest and that look on his face he always got when it came to the games they would all play together. Without meaning to, he felt a snort of laughter erupt from his lips, much to the displeasure of his friend.

"I swear, I'm not making fun of you." He said before Michael could protest, but he knew he had blown it already. He was still laughing.

"You keep acting like you're the God of boardgames and one day I'm gonna-"

"I'll be over in a bit." David cut him off, ending the call with another laugh. He knew that would probably send his friend into another fit and felt bad for the man's wife. With a shrug of his shoulders that suggested 'oh well', he slipped his phone back into his pocket and snagged his keys off of the table. But before he could switch off the TV, he paused, standing there in the middle of his living room with the remote in his hands. He couldn't help himself from turning back to the news station, and the cartoon was replaced by a very real picture of the United States.

"-has so far spread as far as Texas, although scientists are still unsure as the symptoms are initially difficult to spot." He watched the color red slowly spread its tendrils from central California, stretching to reach into the Midwest as another sprouted from the Lone star state. He felt the hair on his neck begin to rise, and he quickly hit the power button, watching the map blink away. He let the remote drop back onto the table, not caring that it hit hard and bounced back off onto the floor.

Once in the parking lot, he brought his black jacket closer to his body, zipping it up. It was cooler than he remembered, and he had to switch his shorts out for a nice worn-in set of blue jeans. He didn't mind too much and he ran a hand through his black hair, finding it too long for his liking. He would have to cut it soon. But for now he was content to watch his breath billow out in front of him in small wisps of white as he made his way towards his car. The parking lot wasn't very large, situated right against the street, and he found it quickly. It was parked beside a car that actually managed to look worse than his. He made it to the driver's side of his red '98 Ford Escort, and peeked into the car next to his. It was some kind of black Chevy, with no hubcaps and one of the wheels was going flat. On the driver's side seat was a pipe, and although he never smoked a day in his life, he definitely knew that wasn't for the tobacco kind of smoking.

"Jesus Christ." He mumbled to himself, turning away and sticking his key into the lock. With a click, he pulled his door open and dropped into the driver's seat, smelling the old seats before the long-forgotten bag of fast food that was on the passenger seat. He had been meaning to throw that away, if only the walk to his apartment wasn't so far away.

Forgetting the bag again, he turned the key and the car sputtered to life, the dashboard vibrating with the engine. He couldn't wait for the day it set the airbag off, if his airbag even still worked. With a foot to the gas, he forgot about that too and pulled out of the parking space. As he did, he poked at the buttons on the radio until a soft, twanging guitar filled his ears and he felt himself relax. Michael had been right, he thought, it did feel good to get out. He hadn't done anything outside his apartment or work for a while. It was good to get away, at least for a little bit.

Once out of the parking lot, he turned left onto the street and pressed the gas, seeing the green light in front of him. Maybe for once he would- and it was gone as the light turned red. He frowned. It always did that, without fail. Every time. He let his eyes wander to his rear view mirror as he came to a stop. He watched the grille of a large red truck get bigger and bigger until it filled his mirror and felt a bit of jealousy rise. What he wouldn't give. But finally, the light ahead of him switched to green again and he was away.

Twenty minutes later, he was pulling up in front of a two-story suburban home, his old Escort sticking out among the nicer cars in the neighborhood. He came to a stop by the curb and pushed the shifter by his side into park. It was a nice place, and he wished he could afford something similar. Out in front of the home, underneath the large windows that let so much light into the living room, the couple maintained a small garden full of colorful plants. There wasn't much there now thanks to the cooler temperatures, but in the Spring he always enjoyed stopping over to see what they had done with it since his last visit.

He opened his door and stepped out, unconsciously pushing down the tiny tab by the window that would engage the lock. He realized he probably wouldn't need it in this neighborhood, but old habits die hard. As he made his way up the sidewalk towards the front door, he saw the white truck sitting in the driveway. He smiled.

"Davey!" He heard the voice yell before he saw the door swing open, the wreath hung upon it flying off from the force. In place of the oak door stood a man that just about took up the entire space of the doorway with his gut alone. "It's about time!"

"Hi, Paul." Dave said. He reached where his friend was standing and shook hands with him. "It's good to see you again." Paul nodded, his eyes looking small in his large face. He had his brown hair up in a ponytail and Dave was reminded why he liked his short.

"He won't shut up about getting you back from last time." Paul said as he disappeared inside the home. David quickly placed the wreath back on the door before following him in. "I'm pretty sure I know how this game is going to go." They turned left and into the living room where Michael was sitting on his black leather couch, the flat screen TV across from him on and playing on some kind of music channel.

"Hey!" Michael said, getting up from his couch and giving Dave a hug. "It's about time!"

"I've heard that before." He replied, turning his head to the rest of the room. "Where's the Mrs.?" He unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off, throwing it across the back of the leather sofa.

"Right here." He heard a feminine voice from the kitchen and a moment later she appeared, a soda in her hands. "It's good to see you again, David." And then she saw where he had placed his jacket. "Men." She scoffed and he felt a smirk make its way to his lips.

"Missed you too, Karen." They all found their seats, David grabbing his jacket and folding it up neatly before sitting next to his friend and his wife on the leather couch. Paul dropped his weight into a tan lazy boy closer to the television, the chair squeaking as it rocked back from the impact.

"Hey," Michael joked, "easy there big guy." Paul shrugged it off.

"So what have you boys got planned for the night?" She asked, sipping her cola. She had her hair up too, a few strands of blonde falling around her young face. She had her blue eyes on him when she asked but Michael was quick to speak up.

"Nothing crazy, love." He turned to Dave. "I'm just going to settle a little dispute between Davey and me."

"Oh," she said her eyes rolling, "you all have fun with that."

"Well, I will." He continued. "I don't think Dave will though." David laughed and shook his head, turning to the TV.

"We'll see." The older man said. His eyes continued to roam around the room, taking in the soft blue of the walls and the pictures that hung there of the young couple. She had rearranged them since his last visit.

"See?" He heard Karen say. "I told you people would notice."

"I think it looks the same." David heard his friend reply, and then the sound of a hearty smack as his wife let him know just what she thought of that.

"It's looks better." She said.

"Yes, dear." There was a moment as he watched his friend rub the back of his neck where she had struck him and he couldn't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Michael." Paul said, a smile on his face as well. "I mean, I knew she wore the pants but that's something right there." David laughed harder.

"You let her hit you and then tell me what you think!" Michael defended himself, a hand gesturing to his wife, her head tiled to the side delicately as she sipped her drink. "Besides," he continued with a wink, his hand moving to the side of his mouth as if he was passing a secret, "I'm in charge if you really get what I mean." That earned him a glare but he shrugged it off, reaching underneath the table.

"So, David." He said, pulling the board game from the floor to place it on the table. "I heard you like Risk." David smiled and turned to the side, unable to look at his friend in the face without smiling.

"So, Michael." He replied. "I heard you like losing."

"Damn!" Paul said, drawing the word out obnoxiously, a hand up to his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Michael asked. "You really think that?" Dave didn't have to answer and Michael nodded. "Okay. We'll see then." He turned to his wife. "Love, could you get us a few drinks?" She rolled her eyes again and stood, heading towards the kitchen.

"Nerds!"

"Beer, woman!" Michael shouted over her, and with a second thought, "Thank you!".

"Whatever!" They all heard the fridge open and turned their attention back to the game.

"Well," Paul began, reaching for the board game, "shall we begin?"