Adam Giancarlo has an increasing feeling he’s being surrounded. He hasn’t felt this way since his days in Iraq
Behind him there’s been some gunfire in the nursing home. No update yet from the three men they sent inside. In front of them they still have a hostage situation going on with confirmed gunfire and casualties. As the best marksman in the police department his job is to keep a clear view of the credit union’s front doors and the front glass windows in case the gunman becomes visible.
Adam remains poised behind a customers car, rifle readied. The remaining four members of the Jonesboro Police Department are inch closer to the front door. No one inside has answered the phone calls inside so they only know what those two escapees reported to them.
One officer has gotten very close to the front and is now hiding behind a large concrete planter. He waits for something. The town’s too small for a SWAT unit, so they’ve called neighboring counties looking for more experienced assistance. They’re not here yet. For now, it’s just the five of them until they find out what’s happening behind them.
Adam looks back at the nursing home wondering if the gunman has an accomplice across the street. Too much of a coincidence.
Just then the front door of the credit union pushes open. It appears to be female hostage in a hysterical, panic tripping over her own feet. Right on her heals is a male hostage, bloodied in appearance. He’s dressed more like a customer than a banker.
The male hostage catches up with female hostage and runs her to the ground just ten or twelve feet from the front door. The nearest police officer has already aimed at the front door to give them cover as they escape, but knocking her down has gotten his attention. Adam’s already aimed at the front door. The male hostage collapses over petite woman and begins to bite at her. She screams in agony.
The nearest police reacts. “Halt! To the ground now or I will shoot!” The man does not stop.
Adam Giancarlo pulls the trigger and hits the man as he intended in the thigh. Anywhere else would have been too close to the hostage. The dead man does not react. He just keeps biting. The nearest policeman, not as skilled or experienced, cries out again, “Stop Now!” Still no reaction, so he fires.
At a bad angle the policeman has no choice to hit him in the top of the head. Feels he’ll be able justify the shooting when questioned later. The dead man stops, crumbles, and rolls off of his victim as the doors open again.
The credit union door opens again. Another female banker, Val. Followed by Charles, another customer, then Steve, and finally another customer. Some are bloodied, all are pale and stiff in the way they walk. Again he calls out, “Halt! To the ground now!” They only look at the nearest policeman and keep walking towards him until the notice the petite woman still on the ground. She moving and crying so she gets their attention. Val and Charles fall down to their knees next to her and begin to claw at her. “Stop! That’s an order or I’ll shoot.”
By this point the remaining police move closer in to lend a hand. So far no one’s drawn a gun, but the not-so-ordinary act of biting and clawing is more distressing.
Another police office runs and takes cover behind a tree close by. He shoots his air taser gun. The electrode stick into Val, she notices the shock but it doesn’t stop her. She straightens up and looks around at the policeman around her. She hisses at them.
Adam fires hitting Val in the chest, not too far from the original shot that killed her earlier. She barely flinches and hisses again. Adam, and all the other officers are shocked. They pause. Whatever drugs they’re on, they’ve never seen anyone ignore pain quite like this.
Steve spots the policeman hiding behind the tree and rushes towards him. He drops his taser gun and draws his handgun. “Down!” He fires into Steve’s barrel chest three times. Steve tackles his prey to the ground. The police officer who had been stationed around the corner watching the side door runs to them to save his colleague.
The other two dead customers charge after the policeman behind the planter and the captain who just joined him. They both begin to fire. Still in his vantage point mid parking lot Adam only has a clear shot on one of them. He fires hitting the dead man square in the forehead. He falls straight backwards to the ground lifeless again.
Adam turns his attention back towards Val and Charles. They’re both still tearing at the petite woman. He’s go a better angle on Val so he fires on her first hitting her on the top of the head. She collapses forward. Adam moves to cover behind a different vehicle to get a new angle.
Just then the door opens and two more dead emerge, including the judgmental older teller Steve killed earlier.
The second dead customer of the original group, the thirty-something female Adam didn’t have a clear shot at earlier, end runs the concrete planter ignoring the gunshots to her arms and torso. She plows into the young police officer. The Captain joins the struggle trying to separate the attacker. In the fight both men are bit but eventual they pin her down. She struggle without fear, pure anger and adrenaline.
Adam aims at the new hostages through his scope. They are just as pale and dazed as the rest. Uncharacteristically he pauses. He’s the last officer left not in hand-to-hand struggle with hostages who are attacking their rescuers. He recognizes the older teller to be a lady from his wife’s church. The side of her face is missing, but it’s definitely her. Is she really a threat like the others? The woman moans as she focuses in on the struggling policemen before them.
Suddenly Adams hears screams from behind him. He turns away too look. He was right all along. From the nursing home several more dead appear. Walking stiffly and intently towards those they see. The onlookers watching hostage stand-off begin to run in all directions. Adam turns back to the more immediate threat at the credit union.
The exit-only emergency side entrance pops open and the fire alarm goes off. Two more bodies emerge. More onlookers on the other side begin to run. Adam hears the alarm but does not see the dead from his angle. They proceed to hobble off in the opposite direction away from Adam.
Adam quickly aims at the two dead people exiting the front door. Be bypasses the church lady and quickly kills the second one, the one he didn’t recognize. He falls like a bag of bones. He then finally targets Charles still huddled over the petite woman. He fires, and Charles falls.
In the panic of the onlookers running for cover, several jump into their cars and speed off. One car hits a woman who ignores traffic as she runs across the street back to the bus station where she works. She rolls across the asphalt and the driver keeps driving away in his panic. One of the awaiting ambulance attendants runs to her aid with his large medical case. The other attendant edges closer to the police struggle to see if they’re needed.
Aiming again, he stops the lady from church as she approaches the two policeman at the tree. No time for sentimentality. Adam yells to his fellow officers, “Shot them in the head! Only way to stop them.”
As the Captain secure one handcuff on one of his Zombie’s hands he yells back, “We’re not shooting hostages you hear me! Cuff ‘em.”
Adam turns his attention back towards the nursing home. One of the dead, dressed in male nurse’s scrubs, has almost caught up with an older lady who’d been hiding on the sidewalk behind a telephone poll watching them all. She’s not very fast, and kept changing her mind which way to go. Adam aims and fires. The side of his head blows off and he falls back onto the grass border of the parking lot.
Adam then notices one of the staggering persons back up in the parking lot is one of the officers sent over to investigate. He’s bloodied and badly lacerated around the face and arms.
Adam switches on his radio. “Marlene! … Notify all surrounding law enforcement departments we need immediate back-up from everyone. We have…confused innocents panicking and attacking us… Yes, the Captain and all the rest, but me, are either missing, or struggling with the hostages. They’re dazed and attacking us. … Biting. … Notify Hazmat and the County Health Department too. And FEMA. Oh, and sound the emergency air horns.” While updating their dispatcher Adam continues to scan 360 degrees around him for the most urgent need for a sharpshooter. “Notify the media to order everyone away from this area.”
Several feet away the ambulance attendant kneels over the hit and run victim. When she landed she hit her head severely. A lot of blood. He gets no pulse. There not much he can do. He removed his jacket and starts to place it over the dead body’s head when it starts to convulse. He checks for a pulse again. Still nothing. The victim opens her eyes, looks at him and lunges for him. First he screams from fright, then he scream in pain.
“God forgive me, and God help me if I’m wrong.” Adam aims and kills another suspicious looking person in the nursing home parking lot, this one dressed as a patient in pajamas and a robe. His fellow officers behind him seem to have everything under control as they cuff their two attackers.
Meanwhile, several of the resurrected escape through the back door of the nursing home out of the sight of the police. They head for local homes and businesses on the block.
Across the street at Abernathy’s Educational and Medical Supplies, the owner sitting behind his desk grabs his side and falls from his chair. With Charles still at the credit union, no one’s there to help him. He’s older and has still undiagnosed illnesses. He lies there and will eventual die as his systems face a virus attack.
***
The man draws his gun and fires from the back of the bus missing his target and almost hitting the bus driver up front. The windshield cracks and he ducks.
The bus swerves knocking the car next to it on the right into a pick-up truck. At this point everyone’s going between 60 and 75 MPH.
The passengers who weren’t already panicking before begin to panic with the gunfire and the suddenly swerve and crash. A couple of the passengers tackle the man with the concealed weapon.
The rookie driver then overcompensates and swerves left colliding with a diesel truck with full double trailers.
Inside the bus the young college student who was traveling home sick attacks the passengers around him. He had died in his sleep in the bus after being exposed to the virus back in Jonesboro
The bus bounces off the diesel truck and cuts across the third and fourth lanes crashing diagonally into the center concrete median and large metal post holding up the overhead highway signs. The sudden stop sends the unseat-belted bus passengers forward from their seats. Several more passenger vehicles collide into the bus without time to stop. Others veer into each other.
The diesel truck bangs into the sidewall and begins to jack-knife taking out a few vehicles. When it comes to a rest it’s blocking three of the four lanes just fifty feet passed the bus which is also blocking much of the highway.
A minute later a traffic helicopter flying above the wreck reports on several radio stations about a “massive 19 car pile-up.” They won’t know what’s really going on inside.
The college student continues to explore and feed within the bus.
***
“Captain?” Adams looks for some guidance on what to do next. He realizes more than anyone else how quickly the situation is degrading.
“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,“ ponders the police captain. “Chemical exposure? Why the hell are the civilians attacking?”
“It’s worse than that,” adds Adam. “Same things happening across the street at the nursing home. Bayles is stumbling around the parking lot too and I haven’t seen the others yet. We need to get over there.”
“You two, stay here and watch those two freaks,” says the Captain to two of his men. “We’ll lick our wounds later. Let’s see what wrong on the other side.” Adam, the Captain, and a third policeman begin to trot off. “Oh, and don’t go in the bank until we have more back-up.”
An ambulance attendant runs to check on the status of the injured petite woman to see if she survived the attacks. The hostages that haven’t been cuffed have all been shot in the head. She’s the best one to check on first. He doesn’t realize his partner’s been attacked himself by the hit-and-run victim.
The three men quickly cross diagonally through the intersection to the nursing home. “Bayles?!” yells the Captain.
Their man is standing in the middle of the parking lot badly abused, blood drying on his face and arms. Two frail patients are also standing near him. “We’ll get you some help. Can you tell us what happened?”
“Captain,” interjects Adam, “I don’t think he’s going to answer. You’ll think I’m crazy, but I’ve been watching all of them. They’re acting like … zombies.”
“Quiet Giancarlo! Movie bullshit!” argues the Captain. “They’re sick, not dead. Bayles, please sit down.” He motions with his arms to the ground hoping they will all copy him. Bayles just stares in curiosity. One of the patients hisses and coughs.
The emergency air raid sirens left over from the Cold War begin to sound.
Meanwhile, the third officer starts to shiver as in a chill. His fingers start to tingle so he tries to rub them while still holding his handgun. He was badly injured in his struggle with the hostages. When the siren goes off he is noticeable startled.
Adam looks behind him and notices the hit-and-run victim and the ambulance driver wandering the street looking for something. “It’s spreading, Captain. We need to evacuate now.” As he’s looking at the Captain he notices how badly he was bit in his forearm.
Back outside the credit union the petite woman jolts to life and bites the latex gloved hand of the ambulance attendant. He screams getting the attention of the two remaining cops. They too are starting to sweat and shiver.
***
The door to the bus swings open. Three passengers stumble out, badly bruised and cut. Buses don’t have passenger side airbags. The driver follows them out instead of helping the remaining passengers. By this point several passengers and drivers of other vehicles have gotten out to help, or assess their damages.
Traffic is at a stop with all four northbound lanes blocked by wreckage. The southbound cars slow down to have a good look.
On the driver’s side of the bus, a crushed car rests with its front end rammed into the bus’s wheel well. The driver is slammed into his windshield. No seat belt.
A few more passengers exit the bus but many are staying put from shock of their injuries. One woman exits holding tightly a bite to her hand. Her forehead also has a welt. She finds an open spot and sits down right their on the highway.
“It’s him, get out of the way!” Five more bus passengers flood out the door.
“He’s insane.”
The college student hobbles out of the bus. His neck seems to be bent at an angle from the collision. No reason on his part to straighten it out. He moans and takes several steps forward.
A passenger from the bus, a father who covered his child with his body during the turmoil on the bus, leaps from the steps onto the college kid’s back knocking him to the ground. “Son of a bitch coulda got us killed…” He slaps the young man’s forehead to the highway.
A couple of drivers from the surrounding cars leap to the struggle and pull the father off of the young man. They don’t know what happened on the bus, only that they should break up a fight between to obviously injured accident victims.
The dead college student clumsily regains his footing with a series of moans and grunts. His skin is pale and mucus escapes his nose and mouth. Operating on instinct, he lunges for a dazed bus passenger standing about ten feet in front of him. He bites his throat. Blood flows immediately.
Those who weren’t on the bus, including the two holding the father back, just stand in shock getting the first glimpse of what’s been happening on the bus, and what’s about to engulf them shortly.
The woman sitting on the concrete off to the side passes out slumping to the ground. Same time, another passenger steps off the bus, falling down to one knee. There’s a bloody gash below the teen’s right ear. A bite mark.
***
“Bayles, can you understand me?” The Captain’s holding out hope that the man who has served below him for so many years is fine.
Officer Bayles begins to run to close the fifteen foot gap between them. Smoothly Adam raises his handgun firing three times. Bayles and the two patients standing behind him fall to the asphalt.
“Adam! …”
“No, Captain. Look!” He points to the front door of the nursing home as the other two policemen and two hospital staffers limp through the doorway. “They’re not our friends anymore. We’re in the middle of some serious shit here! Whatever it is, it’s spreading quick.”
“He’s right, Captain,” says the third patrolman as he wipes away sweat from his brow. Just then all three hear a man scream from back in the direction of the credit union.
“You’re … right. What the hell do we do?” The Captain is beginning to squint and sweat as well.
Adam replies, “I’ve had Marlene contact Hazmat and the rest. This area needs to be quarantined.” Adam holsters his handgun and without any indication of his intent, smoothly removes his hand taser and stuns the captain and the other officer in a quick series of steps before they can react.
He then pulls his rifle from his shoulder aiming for the nursing home. In a series of four shots the four new Zombies fall. “Sorry guys. Can’t save you all.”
Adam removes the cuffs from the belt of the Captain and the other officer, and cuffs each man’s hands behind their backs with their own handcuffs. He stands up again, reloads, and aims to his right. Another undead has been attracted by the gunfire. He fires stopping the nurse in her tracks. Turning back around the other direction Adam Giancarlo fires perfectly upon two more infected patients who had been wandering the grounds.
Adam immediately runs for the nearest police vehicle in the street, a Chevy Tahoe with storage in the back. He’ll need the space. Before getting in he fires killing the hit-and-run victim and the ambulance attendant thirty and forty feet away.
He starts the vehicle and drives up into the nursing homes parking lot. Opening the back of the Tahoe, he lifts the Captain up and manages to pull push his friend and superior up into the back of the storage area. The Captain is still dazed, but with the stun gun wearing off, the virus is taking over.
“You too, Jack Ass.” Adam lifts up the second officer and throws him in the back. He closes the back up securely. The back of the Tahoe is caged since they sometimes use it to transport injured or wild animals. Adams jumps back into the driver’s seat.
Adam pulls a cell phone from inside his vest and hits the speed dial. “Honey, listen to me and don’t question anything. … Listen! … Grab all the food from the kitchen, two guns from my cabinet, get your mom and the kids in the car and keep driving until you get to my parents’ in Louisiana. … Listen, I love you but something horrible I can’t explain is happening. … I’ll be safe if I know you’re all out of the way safe. … I can’t concentrate if I’m worried about you. Once you’re on the road then you can call your friends to do the same. … You have five minutes. If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now, … yeah, … You’re an army wife, you can do this. … Love you too, I’ll call again when I can.”
Adam flips on the siren and begins to drive back and forth across Jonesboro
Meanwhile, the two police officers in the back of the Police Tahoe quietly pass away a minute apart and then return with howls, grunts and hisses, tormented by the Adam Giancarlo whom they can see, but not reach.
He ignores them and remains on duty.
***
Richard Tighe leaves his appointment a little discouraged from not securing a commitment to a sale, but is more curious about what’s going on.
He turns on the radio and tries a few stations. Nothing yet, just music and usual political talk. Presidential election next November.
Passing through town Richard changes his mind about going directly to the office and decides to head home and change out of his suit and tie. Today is a day for business casual. No more scheduled appointments the rest of the day.
Richards rents a small home outside Jonesboro in an even more rural area imaginatively named East Jonesboro . His office is fourteen miles away in downtown Jonesboro
As Richard approaches an elementary school he notices a gathering of people and vehicles on the street corner. He slows his speed since he’ll have to move halfway out into the oncoming lane to get by them. As he gets closer he realizes someone been hit on their bike. He naturally assumes its one of the kids though they should all been in class hours ago. He stops his car and gets halfway out of his car.
Richard calls to one of the six people standing around in a circle. “Do you need help?”
A woman answers. “No, we’ve already called 911, but it’s been five minutes. The dispatcher said they’ve gotten a lot of call today.”
Richard can’t quite see past them. There is another person seated on the curb, their head in their hands. “Who is it? What happened?”
“A woman was hit on her bike. A bunch of cars zipped past us coming east and she couldn’t get out of the way in time.” The woman gives a head motion towards the man seated on the curb. Doesn’t say anything but he must be the driver.
“Is she?” asks Richard hesitantly, and not sure how to be more tactful. They are standing around, no one in a rush.
“Yeah. This woman here is a retired nurse. It was quick. No helmet.”
“Sorry to hear all that, I wish I could stick around…”
“That’s OK,” the woman assures, “We’ve got it. The police or ambulance should be here soon.”
Just then the Emergency Air Raid sounds.
“Another tests?” asks one of the other witnesses.
“Nothing I heard of…,” replies the woman.
Not sure what to say, Richard uses the air horn as a good segue to make his exit. As he drivers around the stopped car he wonders simply if she had life insurance in place. Someone’s going to miss her.
After about two blocks, when they are well out of Richard’s rearview mirror, the crushed woman laying in the street jolts to life with a gasp and a screech.
“My God?!”
Everyone looks at the nurse for answers and as if to say you’re wrong. “She had no pulse.” The nurse and one of the men knee down next to her. “An ambulance is on their way. Call 911 and tell them ‘hurry, she’s still alive.’”
The dead cyclist turns her head to the sound on the talking nurse with curiosity.
***
Richard was home for almost an hour before he found out something major was happening. First he changed out of his suit, then he made something to eat. His part time secretary called from the road, already evacuating, to see if he was out of town yet. He was completely unaware.
Turning of the news channels, Richard learns no one really knows what’s going one, but he seems to be surrounded on all sides. Reports are coming from all four directions.
“… reports of mass hysteria …”
“ … reports of violence originally came in from cities including Lexington , Louisville , Frankfort , Owensboro , Jonesboro , and Bowling Green , Kentucky , and northern parts of Tennessee including Clarksville , Nashville , and Knoxville Indiana around the Hoosier National Park
“… traffics backed up for miles…”
“…school closures…”
“… the Governor and his family has been evacuated …”
“… 31 confirmed deaths …”
“… unverified reports of an increase in terrorist ‘chatter’ …”
“… incredible reports of the dead returning to life …”
“… several uncontrolled fires still rage …”
“… 8 confirmed deaths, and unconfirmed deaths possibly as high as 50 …”
“… the State National Guard has been activated and is already mobilizing …”
“… YouTube and Facebook is already flooded with photos and clips of what most are calling ‘zombies’. While some are obviously hoaxes, or clips from Romero movies, some appear genuine enough as hard is it is to believe …”
“… 19 car accident on the northbound side about three miles southwest of …”
“… Officials urge the public to remain calm and stay off the roads until further instruction …”
“… the American Red Cross has already begun to open evacuation centers …”
“… Hertz and Enterprise
“… runs on banks, ATM’s, gas stations, and super markets …”
“… 104 confirmed deaths, but County Health
“… President Obama is expected to declare a state of emergency in Kentucky and Indiana
“… incredible reports of dead coming to life already have various group and religious leaders talking of “end times”, the book of Revelations, and “rapture” …”
Richard opens his coat closet, the one closest to his front door, and removes an old aluminum baseball bat and his bug-out bag. Selling fire, flood, and other insurances for so long he’s always recommended his clients prepare for disasters and be ready for quick evacuations. In the end, he fears he’s one of the last out of town.
He didn’t think he’d ever really need it, but the large black sports bag contains several days of water and non-perishable food, spare shoes and clothing, a radio, a flashlight, first aid kits, and a list of important info and phone numbers, and some miscellaneous items he imagined he might need. Next, he loads up a few bags of grocery and fills one more bag of clothing. He also takes the two hundred dollars in emergency cash he has hidden in a desk drawer. Wishes it was more. He might be gone for awhile.
Keeping the baseball bat close at hand he loads the rest of the stuff into his car. As he walks back into his house, he pulls his cell phone from his pocket.
A loaded down pick-up truck speeds down the street, two big dogs tied up in back with some of their other belongings. His neighbors are obviously doing the same. The roads are going to be crazy tonight.
“Yes … Hi Mom … I’ve been watching it all on the news … no, it sounds really close by, but I haven’t seen anything, probably exaggerated … no, I’m still leaving … loading the car right now … not sure, think I’ll head south … no sense heading to my house in Louisville, stuff’s happening there too … could stay with friends there though … I doubt I’ll have to drive as far as Florida, but keep the guest room ready in case … You need to get ready too: food, water, money, clothing… just get ready too … I should get going, I’ll call again … I love you too. Tell Dad I love him … bye.”
Next Richard takes his heavy black leather bomber jacket from the closet and a couple spare blankets in case he spends the night in his car. Making one last run through the house making sure all doors are locked, he slips a few more random miscellaneous items into his pockets. Locking the front door, bat and blankets in hand, Richard walks to his car.
***
Richard car comes to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street. He didn’t make it more than a couple of miles from home. In front of him in the road is a stalled older model pick-up truck. Hood up, radiator steaming. Family of four anxiously working and waiting to get it moving again.
“Damn. Just keep driving,” he says out loud only to himself knowing he won’t. He gets out of the car. The neighborhood seems pretty empty. Most have evacuated already. “Need water or anything?”
“Nah, I’ve got it,” says the father. “Carry plenty of water. Just need time.”
Suddenly their little girl, standing a few feet away, scream. “Look!” She points at the home to their left.
A naked from the waist down older man comes shuffling down a driveway with his pajama bottoms down around his feet. There’s phlegm and other fluids running down his unkempt beard. His skin is various shades of gray and bruise. He’s moaning seems unnatural.
“Holy Shit!” says the Dad. “Is that what they’ve been talking about?”
Richard pulls his baseball bat out from his back seat through the open window and immediately approaches the Father. “He can’t really be dead.” The old man’s moving so slow there’s no rush.
“He looks like it though,” says Dad. “Get in the truck.” Mom gathers her son and daughter and herds them back into the truck though the young ones would rather stay and watch.
“Sir!” yells Richard. “Do you need help?” No answer, he just keeps shuffling towards them at a slow pace. “There’s no such thing as zombies. He’s probably got Alzheimer’s and we’re standing here staring at him.”
“Something’s up,” speculates Dad. “Maybe it’s that super-flu they’re always warning us ‘bout. Coughing up crap like it.”
The two men just stand there staring unsure what to do. The old man moans.
“I’m Fred, by the way,” says the tall, slim, dark-bearded man.
“Richard.”
Again the little girl screams. The two men embarrassingly startle with the break in the tension. “What!” screams Fred.
A young man in his twenties came hobbling up from behind them from the other side of the street, going in between Richard’s car, and the truck. Younger, he’s moving faster. His shirt and pants are soaked in blood and there’s a piece missing from his jaw. He seems to have been shot a few times in the face and torso.
Richard turns around and takes three stumbles back. He lets out a barely audible, “Fuh!” Couldn‘t even finish his curse. He brings the baseball bat up and grips it in both hands.
If there was any doubt before it’s gone now. The dead, or at least those that are hurt and sick enough that they should be rolling around on the ground in severe pain, are jumping up and running around after those not yet afflicted.
Fred reaches for a large wrench that had been laying on the edge of his truck’s frame, near the radiator. He too then begins to step back from the dead man.
All three are now screaming from inside the truck.
The two men are back away from each other at a 120 degree angle with the dead young man walking up through the middle. He seems to look at the two of them with fear and curiosity. He’s unsure which to attack first.
“What do we do?” asks Richard.
“I’m an electrician, I don’t know.” Fred pauses as he grips his wrench like a club. “Beat his brains in if he comes at you.”
“’Fraid you were going to say that.”
The young man hisses. The old man still shuffling from the other direction moans. “Crap,” says Fred.
The young dead man turns his attention to Richard and takes a step in his direction. Thinking about the safety of his family, Fred reacts. His children are too young to walk out of this relatively isolated place. He needs time to get his truck running again.
Fred runs up behind the young man swing the wrench and barely lands a glancing blow off his shoulder blade. He immediately jumps back four paces. It’s a weak attack, but its something. The irritated dead man spins towards Fred. It doesn’t hurt him at all, but it gets his attention. He hisses again.
Richard readies his bat and with the dean man turning his attention to Fred and taking steps in his direction, he swings a horizontal blow. The bat lands on the dead man’s right upper arm knocking him over to the ground.
“Get him again,” urges Fred.
Richard reassures himself, “He’s not alive anymore.” He raises the bat over his head and brings it down with a strong blow, but not enough to permanently disable the dead man. It lands on his neck. “We need to get out of here.” Richard looks up at old man shuffling closer to them and makes a quick glance around the suddenly eerie neighborhood. What could be lurking behind each door?
“It’s going to take awhile to get my truck workin’.”
“I’ve got just enough room in my car for the four of you and some of your stuff,” says Richard. “Not sure where I’m going yet, but free to join me. Not interested in staying here much longer.”
Fred hesitates and looks at his crying family inside the stalled truck. “Let’s get going. Thanks.”
The family grabs what few bags they had in the truck and squeeze into Richard’s car along with all his stuff. As they drive off they see another suspicious individual limping across a lawn. Block after block they see near desolation, the occasional dead person emerging from the shadows, and a few other vehicles driving in random directions.
They need to decide a strategy.
