Michael crouched low in the shadows of the apartment complex, looking out into the street below. Part of this building had been blown away when the military came through, and much of the town had been damaged. It looked now like a post apocalyptic wasteland of concrete, twisted rebar, and broken homes. Two months ago the quarintine began. The government said it was for national security, but it really was to root out these so called shape shifters. He didn't believe it, until he saw a woman grow wings and fly to escape a group of National Guardsmen. He was trapped in the zone, comprising most of the area around his hometown. Leaving his perch, Michael gathered his backpack, rifle, and the crowbar and left the building, heading back to the high school. That was the only place, short of his parents destroyed home, that he felt safe staying. And so as he walked the half mile and jogged up the steps, then went upstairs to the weight room, and set his things down, moving some pieces of equipment to block the stairs and door out. He had a radio up here, and a generator. He was set for a limited time.