Chapter 1.1: Exodus (IC)

Link to the last moments of our Exodus: LINK

...Fucking Cyrus is going to get us all killed!

Gunfire opened up and he feared everyone in that van was as good as dead until he realized it was coming directly from his side. Smaller Johnson had taken a knee and was firing steadily toward the infected.

Nearby, the van jerked left and then right as though Cyrus had lost control of the steering wheel. Dusty could do nothing but watch...


+++++


...Alma stood frozen at the window, watching the scene at the gate unfold hearing the ground-level footfall grow louder. Her uniform was a blood-speckled mess, the one singed shirt tail trailing out and her left sleeve gone, bulging holdall reeking of gasoline. With her height, she'd been a decent sprinter in high school, but the events of the last 24 hours had made her painfully aware of the forty so lbs extra she carried, the stitch in her side burning as she recovered her breath. She glanced back at the door she'd barricaded, now absorbing a steady impact. Alma froze, searched again for other doors, finally heaving a folded mattress through the second floor window.

It was an office building and there'd been some kind of stampede. There were people flattened in the corridors of the second floor. Some of them whispered and rasped, pasted to the ground in states defying medical explanation. She'd heard screaming from a stairwell and fled into the corner office. Somebody had followed her. All she'd seen was the security uniform. All she'd heard was the same thing over and over like looping last words.

"Where you going?" the voice repeated, jostling the office door. It was a calm, wrecked wheeze - a surfer drawl gone wrong. She saw a gun holstered to a big body through the glass strip, and panicked.

There had been a mattress been under the desk - maybe it'd belonged to a workaholic or somebody going through an ugly breakup - it was weird what you tried to make sense of in the midst of utter pandemonium. She hefted it through the window as a piece of the cheap door splintered. "Where you going?" issued louder and rawer. Alma got a good look at the face and squeezed through the window, before she fell blindly after it, clutching the holdall.

She landed on the mattress with an echoing crash, leaving a cratering dent in the top of a van and a distorted alarm ringing through the streets. Her left arm ached like shit and she felt the sudden cold followed by the sudden blood-warmth of the new cuts along her limbs. The wind had been smashed out of her, but the riot of adrenaline still raced through her, and she nearly nearly leaped from the wreckage as the chattering gunfire cut through the wail of the alarm she'd triggered on impact.

She saw some of the shambling crowd buckle under gunfire, others somehow distracted by the alarm, and ran for cover close to the gate...


+++++


...As the car jerked left and right, Ben took his hands from Cyrus' neck to grab for the wheel but it was too late. Information flashed through his head: the approaching fence post, Evelyn cowering, Gabe on the floor-- "Gabe--" The van hit the side of the fence, throwing the occupants of the vehicle from their seats if they weren't buckled. Glass shattered, pieces finding bare flesh and embedding there, the fence swaying from the impact. Ben hit the ceiling with enough force to send stars across his eyes. He was lucky he hadn't been thrown through the windshield. His body landed between the passenger and driver's seat and he groaned, feeling the warmth of blood trickle down the side of his face and into his eyes and mouth. Groaning again, he raised a trembling hand to his face and probed gently, finding a weeping wound just by his hairline. Pressing fingers to it to try to staunch the bleeding, Ben slowly pushed himself up. "Is everyone alright?" he asked shakily. "Gabe?" Ben reached for his son, his bloody fingers leaving streaks on his son's skin. Gabe didn't answer, but his eyes were wide and blinking. There didn't seem to be any injuries; Gabe had been lodged between the front and back seats and he still seemed pretty stuck.

Groaning filled the car as Ben leaned over Gabe and opened the side of the car, letting in more of the afternoon light and illuminating the damage in the car. As careful as he could, Ben stepped over Gabe and onto the asphalt, his knee buckling and bringing him to his knees as soon as his feet hit the ground.

The noise of the things and responding gunfire was in the air, the hiss of the engine in the background. Crawl-walking to the back of the van, Ben opened the doors to check on Cat.

She wasn't good.

Supplies had landed on her in the crash and she'd been unable to move because of it. He couldn't even tell if she was alive or just passed out. He hoped just passed out. They were so close.

"We need some help over here!" he called to Dusty, the marines, to whoever was listening. They just needed so much help. I don't know if I can do this, he thought, biting back a sob of frustration, pain, fear. It's so much...


+++++

...Cyrus didn't have time to regain control of the car. As it jerked and pulled, it threw him and Ben around the seat back. As he choked and coughed, pulling at the hands around his neck, he realized a second too late where the car was headed. He tried to correct it with his leg, but all he could do was fly past dusty with a silent curse. The car jerked to the left, back again. He sucked in one final breath and braced for the impact.

The car drove past the group of men erratically, leaving smoking trails of burning rubber as it tried to grip the road. Cyrus had hoped to use the car to get in to the military base, but with all the commotion it was no longer aiming at the gate. In a moment, the car came to a complete halt as it collided with the checkpoint.

Bricks, glass, metal, and people tumbled around the inside of the car in a second of chaos. Cyrus flew free of Ben's grip, tossed about by the vehicle. Had he been wearing his seat belt, the collision probably wouldn't have been life threatening. Instead, Cyrus slammed his chest into the wheel, his head smashed into the dash, leaving a bloody crack in the plastic. He slumped over onto the center console, unmoving...


+++++


...Evelyn was thrown around the inside of the van like pennies inside a can. She collided with everyone but could recall not a single one of them.

As the car settles, she finds herself on the floor of the van. Someone was laying on her legs.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" she asks. She was usually nervous and reserved, but after all the day had thrown at her, she was now pissed.

She felt the sting of multiple contusions from the neck down. He neck felt fine, but she knew once the adrenaline wore off she would feel like the wall the van smashed into. Mercifully, she didnt hit her already injured head again.

She tries to kick her legs out from under the weight, but finding them too weak at the moment to do much of anything.

"Gabe? Are you ok? Anybody else who isn't an asshole in the front seat?"

She coughs, her mouth tasting like dirt laced with a little bit of blood.

Wait, I buckled in? What happened?

she reaches over herself with her hands, finding the belt and that yhe buckle had been disconnected inside the seat....





As the steam rose from the hood, moans from all around you became louder and louder. Feet, shuffling and awkward, became louder. Gunfire, sporadic at first, began to accumulate until the mass staccato was deafening.

Someone was shouting. There words a blur at first, they became increasingly clear. Alarmed. Nearly panicked.

"ATE... IN... ET INSIDE THE. GATE. GET INSIDE THE GATE!"

Emmett had felt worse. Damn sure he had felt worse than he currently did, pulling himself upright after the psycho decided he was going to have a little joyride at the expense of everyone else. Yeah, he had felt a damn sight worse in his life.

But shit, none of those memories was coming to him now.

His wrist was hurtin' him real bad. Enough to make him bite his lip to try and find solace in the pain of another location. He bites down hard enough to taste blood from his lip. His old body would be feeling this one tomorrow. Or hell even later on tonight. Emmett finally gets his bearings and looks around at the others.

Looked like Ben needed help getting Gabe up and out so that Evelyn could get herself on her way out of the vehicle as well. And Cyrus was damn well down for the count. He tries to begin taking inventory and getting into the act of moving again of his own volition when he remembers what stirred Cyrus in the first place.

The shrieking.

As quick as his old body can handle it, he does his to exit the vehicle, hurry to the back, and pick up the young boy and get him off of Evelyn.

"Gabe, get him out of the car and in that damn gate. We ain't got time to dilly-dally."

He almost shoves the boy out of the car and onto the concrete due to the slight unease and panic that was creeping up from his stomach and into his chest. He does his best to not hurt the boy though, jerking him a bit upright, before wrenching him from the smoking vehicle.

"Evelyn, get the hell out of the car and in that gate now...I'll get Mr. Joyride."

Cyrus was in bad shape and it was all due to not wearing his seatbelt. Emmett almost laughs as an old TV commercial about seatbelt safety runs through his head. He heads over to the driver's side and tries the door.

Jammed.

The shrieking gets louder as the beings are almost upon them. Emmett puts a boot up on the vehicle and tugs at the door with his one good hand.

Nothing.

"Door ain't budging!"

At this moment, of all moments, the pain begins to flow into him. The adrenaline was wearing off and the whole story of his body was coming into focus. A damn better time for it, you couldn't name. The big man hobbles over to the passenger side, doing his best to ignore the growing fear in him. He yanks the door open with his good hand, reaches inside as best he can, and pulls on Cyrus' shirt. The boy wasn't budging. Either Emmett was too weak, Cyrus was stuck, or a combination of the two.

Fuck me, just my luck.

"Guys! Little help! Can't get him out!"

Car crashes hurt, thought Gabe as he watched his dad crawl over him and out into the world outside. Gabe wanted to follow him and began squirming when he realized he was stuck, the feet he was lying on poking into him. The big man, the one who scared him a little, reached for him and pulled him out, nearly causing Gabe to stumble onto the ground. 

The world around them was loud. Screaming filled the air, answered by the sharp bark of gunfire. He'd never heard real guns before. They were so much louder than the ones on TV. I want my mom, he thought, wrapping his arms around himself. I want to go home. 

"Gabe!" Gabe's head whipped up at his name, following the call to the back of the vehicle where he found his dad pulling out boxes and throwing them onto the ground. "We need to get her out," he told Gabe, his voice panicky in a way that Gabe hadn't heard before. There was a lot of things that Gabe hadn't heard before. It was getting harder to ignore everything, to pretend that bad things weren't happening. 

A new kind of scream lit the air now, laid over the snarling that was getting closer. It made the hair rise on the back of Gabe's neck. 

***

Someone was being killed, Ben realized as a terror filled scream split the air. "Gabe, I need you to help me get Cat out, okay?" he said, trying to sound calmer than the scream that was rattling around him and trying to get out. It wouldn't help. Not when they needed to get to the gate. 

Ben continued pulling supplies off of Cat, not caring where he dumped them on the pavement. Worrying about supplies when people––or what used to be people––were coming closer wasn't something that he cared about right now. Someone continued to yell about getting into the gate, but it didn't sound like it was Dusty. Briefly, Ben allowed himself to be worried about the man. He hadn't known him long, but something about throwing people into a life-or-death situation made you decide very quickly whether they were a good person or not. 


"Dad...?" Gabe's voice was quivering and Ben immediately stopped what he was doing. He looked at his son––really looked––his eyes running over his son's body, looking for any injuries. He found none and sent up a quick thanks, his chest tight with worry. 

"I know you're scared, bud," he said, wiping blood out of his eyes with an arm. "But we're almost there. We're almost safe. We just need to get Cat out. Can you help me? Can you be brave for just a little longer?" Ben choked back a sob, knowing that losing his cool would not help his son right now. "You're being so brave."

There was a short pause and then Gabe gave a small nod. Turning back to the car, he began pulling some of the lighter things out of the car. 

"That's it," Ben said, returning to the heavier items. Between the two of them, Cat was free, but now they had another problem. The woman was unconscious. Ben subtly checked her pulse, feeling the weak beat underneath his fingertips. That can't be good, he thought. Gabe was watching him again and he forced himself to release the frown of worry his forehead was holding. "Help me get her out?"

Ben swayed under her weight once they got her out of the car. He'd flung her arm around his neck, but her limp body was trying to pull him down. "Gabe, take her other arm," he grunted. "We both need to carry her." 

He hoped that they'd be strong enough.

She takes Emmet's help as her brain cleared of the fog. Her head injury wasnt helping the situation either. She crawls out to find Ben struggling over Cat, she stands shakily to her feet, hearing the sharp piercing bursts of gunfire.

Thats when the Panic really set in. She hobbles to the driver's side door and kicks the door in a vain attempt to force it open.

"Get out here you fucking douchebag." she yells, almost shrieks.

The door wasn't budging, she could see inside that Emmet was struggling on the inside.

Pissed and panicked, she picks up a large rock, hitting the window repeatedly.

Slowly, cracks webbed out from the points of impact, it was good, but not great.

She looks around, wishing that she hadnt. The infected patients were moving forwards, at least they were more concerned with the national guard for now.

Thats when she found something that would work better than a rock, she hoped.
She picks up a spent magazine and smashes the window in with it.

Cyrus was out cold, it was the best news of the day.

"lets get this maniac out." she tells Emmett inside.
It would have been preferable to leave him in the van until ambulance could get there and put on a c-collar, but that required time no one had.

Part of her hoped for the worst....

Emmett winced as the glass shattered around him. Truth be told, he was damn happy that Evelyn was here to help cause the pain setting in wasn't exactly helping matters. And oh boy...the wrist had seen better days for sure.

He heaves with effort, the noises from the screaming maniacs getting louder and louder behind them. It was as if they were finally upon them, ready to chomp down at any moment and make sure the group didn't live to see another sunrise.

As much as he can, he prays that the damn idiot would budge...

"Come on, you little bastard...COME ON!"

With the last yell, Emmett is able to push Cyrus up and get him cleared from whatever had been keeping him in the vehicle. He lifts him up with all the strength he can muster, and let's Evelyn pull him out of the smashed window.

Emmett back out of the truck...

And he is shoved instantly to the ground. He pushes upward with his arm, slamming the thing in the chest to keep the slobbering mouth at bay as it begins to chomp down hard, the teeth smacking with an awful sound that Emmett won't soon forget.

Clack, clack, clack.

The strength was fading from the big Texan...soon he'd end up food for whatever the hell these things were.

"SHIT! Get off me!"

Rosa had stayed topside when Dusty had moved down to talk to the soldiers. It was hot up here, the metal seeming to burn her skin, but at least there was an idea of a breeze. If you concentrated on the middle distance you might imagine that there was no civilisation. She needed a little time for herself.
The air inside the van wasn't only heated by the sun. The various muddled personalities inside- shaped by their misconceptions of who they were and the tired old roles they felt they had to play out felt like the death throes of a punk band. Perhaps they had meaning, a message at one point, but by now they had sold out- gold plated their dreams and traded their passion for materialism. Everything was coming apart and they were turning on each other.
She didn't need that negative energy.
She thought again about that comparison. It was ok- maybe a bit convoluted. Was there an easier analogy than a band breaking up? They were turning on each other quicker than an old high school reunion?
Rosa smirked. She couldn't understand the mentality of anyone who would want to attend one of those. Life was about looking forward- not to the past.

It was a couple of seconds before she realised that the van was moving. As she tried to secure her footing, she slipped and banged her chin off the roof. Slightly dazed she looked up in time to see them hurtling into the check point.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She came to with a start. For a second she lay there, consumed with a nervous panic but unable to remember why. Did she have to talk to her parents? Was there a paper due? And then with the suddenness of an alarm in the morning, her hearing returned. There was the explosive resonance of gunfire, shouts and screams and close at hand, a shrill shrieking that made her want to curl up.
Instead she sat up and found herself lying in a dry ditch by the edge of the concrete.
On her right was the smoking form of their van, rammed into the check point.
And murderously close on her left were Them. Clamping down on her immediate instinct to freeze, she staggered from the ditch, her bag banging on her hip. She was dimly aware of pain, especially around her head, and her right leg didn’t seem to be working properly, but these seemed minor compared to what was over her shoulder. She grimly trust one leg in front of the other and blocked her brain from thinking of anything else.

As she rounded the edge of the van, she saw one of the Things wrestling with Emmett. The Texan was on the ground, pushing up against.. a thing? a monster?- a former person, who was slavering down, lips pulled back and teeth bared. Her yellow dress had been patterned with white flowers but was now soaked with blood. The wrinkled face was drawn in an intense naked desire, her white and grey streaked hair, slick to her neck and forehead. Beyond them was the entrance to the camp.
She could just stumble past them and ignore the struggle.
Into the camp.
With soldiers standing there.
Acting like all state sponsored purveyors of violence against the people. Standing back when they were actually needed. She didn’t need their help.

Reaching into her bag she heaved out a heavy textbook from her bag, and continued to stagger forwards. The big man was letting the former person push him down, she was getting closer to his neck. Lifting the book up high in both hands, she imagined a faceless shielded enforcer striking down an unarmed protester, and with a scream smashed the heavy edge of the book into the neck of the Thing. There was a snap and it fell over Emmetts chest

She was unable to stop after the force of the attack, and fell to her knees beside the Texan. Ignoring the growing pounding in her head and the spots in her vision, she pushed the former body off him, still using her text book.

“Are you all right? Did it get you?”

"Nope," Baughman said shaking his head slightly. "I try not to think that far ahead." He gave her a reassuring smile while inwardly he hoped to all fuck that the car was still there. He had't heard it drive off, but he had also been killing a clown with a cast iron skillet. He shouldered the shotgun and moved around the side of the house. The gate was still ajar, just as he had left it which was a good sign. He tried to calm his heart as it was nearly ready to burst out of his chest. The thought that he would turn the corner and find the front lawn filled with the creeps made his palms sweaty.

Vomit on my chest, mom's spaghetti.

He briefly wondered how Eminem was doing in all of this. Then he pushed that out of his mind because it didn't matter at all. A few cautious steps brought him to the gate and he peered out.

The only movement was the writhing of the woman in the red shirt. The cop car just ahead of her hummed softly, ready to go. He thought he heard a door handle across the street wiggle and unlatch. When nothing burst out at him, he chalked it up to his mind playing tricks on him.

"OK. Remember, slow is smooth and smooth is fast. Passenger side door should be open. Let's go." He didn't wait for a response, he simply started moving.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dusty sprung into action.

His legs pumped furiously toward the vehicle. Women and children first. He rushed up beside Ben, Cat, and Gabe. Quickly, he pulled Cat's arm away from Gabe and put it around his shoulders. "Gabe, get inside the gates. Go!"

He hollered with more authority than he intended, but he didn't have time to think of that. More Marines were pouring out of the facility now. Some of them had been catching some Zs.; they wore only shorts, flip flops, and gym shirts with out-of-place ammunition vests on their chests. It would look comedic if they weren't shouldering their rifles and putting round after round into the oncoming infected.

Both Johnsons had regained themselves and were firing while withdrawing back to the gate. From within came the sounds of something mechanical. Looking up, Dusty saw two heavy forklifts moving as fast as they could toward the gate. Each one held two long cement "Jersey Barriers" on its forks. They were the type used in road construction to funnel vehicles and protect construction crew.


Each piece was long enough to cover the width of the hole Cyrus had created in the gate. Once two were stacked on top of one another, it would take some serious effort to climb. The fact that they were bringing out four told Dusty they had no intention to let any infected breach the compound today.

"Ben, we gotta move, man. Once those barriers go up we are going to be hard pressed to get over without help."

He spared a glance back. Some people were still on the ground. The girl and the old man looked unconscious. This was bad.

Emmett felt the sharp, tangy breath of the beast on top of him, her once pretty eyes devoid of all emotion as she tried her best to make him her new partner in crime. She was inching closer. And closer. On any normal day, the Texan could easily have thrown a woman of her size off of him. But today was different. Today she had what seemed like super-strength and a vicious need to kill that would take much more than him to subdue. That and today his body wasn't working right. Wouldn't be for a while either.

Well...no one is coming...this must be it, old timer.

He closes his eyes.

Crack.

The thing collapsed on his chest and the big man stayed still, hoping against hope that it wouldn't come back real quickly and decide to finish the job. Slowly, the body gets pushed off of him and he finally opens his eyes to see Rosa sitting there besides him. The words come from her and he only catches bits and pieces of it. But then he gets it.

"Darlin', I am just peachy keen. Thanks for that, thought I was a goner for sure."

The big man pushes himself up, wincing with the effort of it. He reaches his hand down to help her up, time seemingly moving in slow motion.

"Suppose we better get, don't ya think?"

"Gabe, go!" Ben echoed, pointing to the gate with his free arm. Gabe took off, his skinny form disappearing toward the gate. Thank everything above that there were no more of the biters near them. It looked like Rosa had taken care of it. He was surprised that she'd survived the crash. The last time he'd seen her she'd been crawling onto the top of the van. He hoped that she hadn't cashed in on their only miracle. 

Tension released in his chest when Gabe made it to the gate, the Marines waving him through as they swarmed to cover the hole and the gate. At least he was safe for now, Ben thought as he and Dusty carried Cat toward the hole, her feet dragging along the ground slightly. 

The screams and sounds of attack were coming closer now, the noise blending together in a way that had him unsure where they were coming from. It made for very dangerous conditions. He pushed himself faster, trying to ignore everything else that was around them, save for the base. Save for the possibility of safety that loomed just beyond Marines rapidly firing their weapons and the smoking engine of their van.  

The hole that the van had created was being dealt with swiftly, with some sort of concrete barrier being directed toward the hole. Their window of opportunity was closing. As they passed Emmett and Rosa, Ben shouted to them, worried that his new companions would get locked out of the base and torn to shreds. At this point, that was the end result of remaining outside. 

"They're closing the base off!" he said, grunting as Cat's weight pulled at him. "Get everyone inside!" That was all the time he could spare with Dusty pushing him to go faster. Ben could only hope that everyone was conscious enough to move––or had someone to do it for them. He hadn't seen the doctor or the asshole who'd gotten them into this mess in the first place. He wondered if they'd survived.

He wondered if they all would, in the end.

Evelyn laid Cyrus on the ground, she had helped Emmett get him out of the van, but he was too heavy for her to carry.

Now she really cursed her bookworm nature.

Out of the corner, she saw Emmett struggle. She froze, wide eyed with terror. These infected people were crazy. Her mind raced with medical precedents: Alzheimer patients attacked, dementia? Some pathogen that could cause mass psychosis? Whateer it was had a wicked onset time.....

Her escape from reality was broken when Rosa broke the woman's neck.
Was killing in self defense murder?

She slowly turned her head, Gabe and Ben were moving towards the hole, which was in the process of being sealed. Time was moving so slowly.....

She drops the spent magazine and grabs Cyrus by his shirt collar and tries to drag him towards the base.

"Help! Somebody help!" she screams.

The scream for help tugged at the back of Dusty's mind. He barely registered it at first. With the pop, pop, pop of M16s and M4s, he had thought he imagined it. Then she screamed again.

Syl wrote:

"Help! Somebody help!" she screams.

The doctor woman was next to Cyrus on the pavement near the van. He only remembered his name because of how much of a prick he was. And with that last stunt he had graduated from prick to real fucking bastard. They were only a few feet away from the hole now. Tall Johnson was just inside, firing to their left.

As they approached them, Dusty started hollering again. He was making a real effort not to let his adrenaline get the best of him. In combat, screaming over the radio during combat only made things more tense and it could also cost men their lives if the message couldn't be heard. He knew how to control his voice, but over the roar of so much gunfire, he had no choice.

He made sure Evelyn locked eyes with him. "Leave him and get inside the wire!"

Emmett reaches down and helps up Rosa as best he can. They sure were a pitiful sight to behold, struggling under their own weight as they hobbled towards the hole that was quickly being sealed. He heard the scream for help as well, coming from Evelyn, the doctor. He turns back and sees her struggling on the other side of the van. He knew she wouldn't leave him behind, despite his fucking dangerous actions. Doctors code and all.

He knew that he had to help in some way. He helps Rosa as far along as possible, making sure she was close enough to edge her way into the hole, into safety.

"Rosa, you get in now! I'll get the bastard with Evelyn. Go, go, go!"

He shoves her a bit, not too much so she fell down, but enough so that she'd hopefully keep her forward momentum and just keep chugging along to the base. The old man hobbles back towards Evelyn, whom was struggling with the bastard. He uses his one good arm, reaching under the armpit of the skinny piece of trash. He heaves and hos with the help of the doctor, wondering at just how much time they had before the Marines decided to close the hole and sacrifice them.

They were getting closer, but so was the ever-flowing tide of rabid humans. The world surely has gone made, the Texan thinks to himself.

Madder than a wet hen out here.

He uses all the strength he has left to get the boy to the hole, looking back from time to time to see their progress.

"Evelyn, we're gonna make it. Just keep your eye on the prize, we have got this."

Secretly, Ruby was glad that she had a companion to move throughout the suburbs from hell. She'd been perfectly fine moving out of her neighborhood on her own, had even thought that she'd be able to find Gabe easily. Her naivety of the situation that was now growing throughout the area had almost been her death. 

Following Baughman after he pushed past her through the gate, Ruby kept her eyes on his back as he moved with an easy confidence toward the cop car. He mentioned something about being slow and fast at the same time, which was a saying she didn't recognize. She merely mimicked his movement, following close behind him as she eyed her surroundings. 

She couldn't stop thinking of the saying that saturated old western films; it was far too quiet in the street they now moved down.

A click made Ruby jump. Baughman, however, didn't react. Despite that, nerves began to tiptoe their way down her back. She felt like something was wrong. "Hey," she began softly, reaching out to tap him on his shoulder. Before she could make contact, the low creaking of a door opening hit her ears.

She stopped, heart pounding in her ears, her eyes flicking from house to house as she tried to see where the noise was coming from. There. Ruby's eyes landed on a woman standing in the doorway of a two-story white house. For the moment she was just standing there. The hair on the back of Ruby's neck rose, the eeriness of the woman's gaze making her feel like she should be running as fast and as far as she could. But Baughman said... "Jake," Ruby hissed quietly, trying to get him to stop moving, to see what she was seeing.

"I see her. Get in the car now." Baughman hissed back. He didn't stop his hurried walk. His eyes were trained on the woman. She was probably in her mid 40s. Soccer mom, maybe. Her white nightgown and the dark red stains all over it told another story. Baghman kept his pace and didn't bring Dusty's shotgun to bear on the woman. At this distance the buckshot probably wouldn't even hit her. But the real reason he didn't draw a bead on her was because he didn't want to draw her attention with movement.

But you're fucking hustle-walking to a running cop car, dipshit!

The sound of another door being pulled open squeaked out from behind him. He didn't bother looking back. If it was a normal person, they would have called out. That narrowed it down some. He hit the driver's seat with the nervous energy of someone who expected to feel teeth sinking in to the back of their neck at any moment. The shotgun was propped up next to him, barrel pointed at the ceiling and he found himself immediately scanning for the woman. Ruby. She was a few feet behind him, but making her way to round the hood and get to the door opposite him.

Home free.

And then the soccer mom turned her head slightly to the left and seemed to look straight at him.

And then the screaming started.

He didn't stop. Ruby allowed herself a moment of stunned disbelief as he continued to hurry away from her and toward the car, his pace measured and even. Then she started walking again, the distance that had grown between them making her feel like she was even more exposed than they already were. Anyone looking out the windows of the upper stories would be able to see them. Keeping her eyes on the woman, Ruby stepped up the pace slightly, trying to keep her movements as stiff as she could. They were so close to escape. Baughman was already in the car. Ruby forced herself not to dash the last few feet. 

Another door opened. A man this time. His shirt was in tatters, dark stains splashed across his mouth and chest. Ruby's mouth went dry. What is going––

A scream, guttural and terrifying, broke the silence in the air. Ruby ducked, some primal instinct in her body getting signals crossed. Ducking wouldn't protect her from a scream. She didn't think moving slow mattered at this point. Running the last few feet, her footfalls on the pavement were echoed by the sound of feet growing steadily closer. The scream seemed to make its way inside her to nest, making her clumsy and anxious to get in the car as fast as she could. 

Fumbling with the door handle by fingers made clumsy with fear, Ruby tried to get the door open before whoever––whatever––was behind her caught up. She wasn't very good at judging distances and––

The distorted reflection in the window was the only warning she had. Screaming, Ruby flung herself to the side just as she got the door to the car open, hitting the pavement hard as the person hit the edge of the car where she'd just been. She was up just as fast, not wanting to be pinned to the ground by whatever was attacking her. Hissing at the pain in her arm, Ruby held the cast iron skillet out in front of her like a sword, so incredibly thankful that her numbness after the attack in the house had caused her to continue carrying it without thinking. 

"What do you want?" she screamed at the woman, the hem of her white nightie saturated with blood. It was still red. The woman had killed someone, Ruby realized. And now she wants to kill me. Arms shaking as the woman advanced on her, Ruby quickly tried to figure out the best place to hit the woman. Probably the head? she thought, but then the woman exploded into motion. 

She didn't have time to aim for the head. The blow glanced off the woman's shoulder, the force of the hit reverberating up Ruby's arms. The woman hissed, a feral red light in her eyes. 

Well, shit, Ruby thought as the woman turned to attack again. She'd been so close to safety...

As Emmett spoke Rosa's face hardened into a scowl and she pushed his hands away to stand on her own.
"It's Rosa, not 'Darling'. I prefer my own name"

She was scowling as they made their way towards the opening. It was typical, such a quintessentially male thing to do right then. She had literally just saved his life and she was 'darling', a little bit of soft femininity to be coddled and protected. Who was he to her? They were not lovers, and he could not speak to her that way. What if she started objectifying him in the same way? Old and decrepit? Ready for the grave? He was having more trouble than she was getting into the compound.

And suddenly he was pushing her. As she went forward, she turned to see him shouting words at her. Clearly he wanted her to inside. Her hands balled into fists and she felt a fury engulf her at the injustice of the situation. She was not a child! She didn’t need anyone to protect her.

She turned at the face of the entrance hole and hurried back after him, her boots stamping into the ground. He was a decaying ruined castle, symbolic of old fashioned power and privilege and misspent energy dedicated to keeping everyone else below him. She moved to Evelyns other side and supported her other side as they moved back towards the compound.
He was a parasite, gorging himself and growing fat on the blood and sweat of everyone else. And the nerve to not only do this, but to also flaunt this advantage, to swagger through life looking down on everyone else. The noises behind were getting closer but she ignored them.
She was just as good as him, better even. He was so blind to how the world was and what was actually happening. She was always aware though. She never let her own false impression of self cloud her eyes to what was actually happening around her.

Soccer mom's body slammed the door shut just as Ruby had gotten it open. Ruby had just jerked out of the way in time. The woman was a survivor. Baughman wouldn't deny that.

He knew pushing the door open from the inside would be futile. It would waste more time doing nothing - precious time that might cost Ruby her life. He couldn't chance it. He grabbed the shotgun with his right hand and was pushing open the door with his left and stepping out when he felt it slam back against him, pinning his prosthetic leg between the door and the frame. He grit his teeth as though the leg were still flesh and blood, as though he still felt the pain. Staring at him through the window, only inches away, was a middle aged balding man. Frothy pink blood foamed from his red-stained lips, dribbling down onto his shirt. His eyes were crazed - pupils dilated like saucers - jerking left and right erratically. Baughman tried to move the shotgun closer, but its awkward position between the center console and the steering wheel was making it extremely difficult to maneuver.

The pressure slammed into his legs again. The man apparently didn't have the wherewithal to pull open the door. Instead, he slammed his head into the glass. Blood dribbled from his forehead. He pulled his head back and thrust forward again. A hairline crack emerged in the middle of the window. When he pulled his head back a third time, Baughman pushed the car door open with all his might. It flung outward, sending the lunatic onto the lawn in a tumbling heap. Baughman was already over him, shotgun finally in hand. He had to get to Ruby as soon as possible. He took a step forward and fired point blank into the man's face. It came apart like an overripe melon, spraying outward in a sickening semi-circle of skull and gore.

No point in being quiet now.

Baughman was already moving around the vehicle. The empty shell ejecting out of the chamber as he pumped a fresh one into the breach.

Soccer mom was squaring off against Ruby and once again Baughman felt a shiver of pure terror run down his back at the prospect of the first sane person he found dying right before his eyes.

"Hey, asshole!" He yelled almost a few inches from behind the woman. When she turned, the butt of the shotgun slammed directly into her face with a sickening crunch as her nose gave way. She stumbled back a few steps. An easy target for the frying pan now.

Suddenly Jake was there, yelling at the woman. Momentarily distracted from Ruby, the woman turned, attracted by the noise he was making. He thrust the butt of the gun into her face and Ruby heard the crunch of her nose breaking. 

The woman stumbled back, snarling. Ruby saw her chance. Swinging the pan like a bat, the heavy cast iron connected with her head. Knocked off balance, the woman fell to the ground, still managing to snarl despite the fact that it looked like part of her head was dented in.

Ruby followed the woman to the ground, lunging to land on top of her, her knee on the woman's chest. "Not me!" she screamed as she brought the frying pan down on the woman's head, smashing her way through flesh and bone. "Not me!" she yelled again as she brought the pan down, again and again, until her fear had given away to incoherent sobbing. The woman was still beneath her. 

Ruby realized she was shaking. The pan dropped from her fingers. Flecks of wetness were on her face. She rubbed at them roughly, wiping away the evidence of what she'd done.

"In the car now, cry later." Baughman jerked open the passenger side door and bent down to scoop up the cast iron. It was coated in blood and had chunks of blonde hair attached to it. None of that mattered - it had come through twice now. As far as he was concerned, it was good luck and had earned its place in the car.

He had tossed it onto the floorboard, moving to help up Ruby when he realized the silence he had expected to greet them after a fight was absent. Instead, more doors were creaking and slamming open up and down the block. He reached down and grabbed one of her forearms, jerking it up harder than he would have in other circumstances.

"Get in the car, Ruby. We gotta go now."

The short run back to the driver's side was one of the longest in his life. He felt eyes on him from all over. It was like the gunshot was a stick and the neighborhood a hornet's nest. And the hornets were furious.

He thumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. For a horrif moment he thought the car had died because he couldn't hear the engine. In reality, the crazed yells and screams of the neighborhood had begun to drown it out.

The boy on the hill looked down at the ridiculous scene unfolding before his very eyes. The man and woman desperately trying their best to avoid the "freaks." They'd had a few close calls, but they'd made it out alright. He'd been watching, making sure that they weren't going to instantly transform and become like the others. Or get bit and then that's the end of the road. He stares down at them through his binoculars, the sun high in the sky, glinting off the glass on the front of them.

Whew, they sure are lucky.

Dax thinks for a moment about the situation. The world had gone to shit. And while his parents wouldn't have wanted him to even think that word, it was the truth. And hell if he knew where they were in all this. They'd been at work that weekend. When it all turned. The fact that they hadn't been back didn't bode well. The tears begin to well up in his eyes at the thought and he wipes them out of his eyes before they can fall.

What the hell should I do? Should I try to get to them? No no, those freaks will get me, there's too damn many of them.

He watches closely as the two of them get inside the car and slam the doors.

I guess I gotta see which way they are headed...maybe I can catch up to them using the shortcuts.

He pulls out his map of the surrounding area, looking down for a moment for the best possible way to catch them on the way that he hoped they would take to get out of there. He watched and waited for the next move from the man.

Doors opened around them, slamming against the sides of houses as they were pushed open. Jake was yelling at her, saying something, but she couldn't understand it through the ringing in her ears. I killed someone I killedsomeone Ikilledsomeone... 

She woke up when he yanked on her arm, jerking her body and her thoughts back to the present and their current predicament. They ran to the car, his hand still on her arm, guiding her toward safety yet again. And she needed it, too. Her feet stumbled across the pavement as the noises around them got louder. Dimly she wondered if this could be shock. Isn't that bad?

He made sure she was in her seat before jogging around to the driver's side. Ruby could feel the tension coming off of him in waves. He turned the key, his face blanching of color. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking beyond him to the scene that was building in the neighborhood. "We need to get out of here," she said, perhaps the most useless thing she could say in their current situation. Shaking her head, Ruby amended her statement, fear making her talk too much. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm saying. I know this isn't helping but I think we should probably get moving right about now," she said, her voice higher than normal as a few of the snarling forms began to advance on them ominously. If they got boxed in...she didn't know how durable a police car would be if it was attacked by people who seemed insanely stronger than they should be...

Gabe slipped inside the base with the chaos that was currently unfolding around him. The machines carrying the concrete things were heading toward the hole his dad and the others were heading toward. It didn't look like they were going to make it. He started panicking, shifting his weight from his left to right, his hands on his head as he watched the soldiers fire guns and run around, shouting. 

One of the machines was really close to the hole now. His entire body was awash in dread, a cold that made him shiver. They're not going to make it, he thought, suddenly freezing. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes. If his dad didn't make it...

No. Gabe thought, pulling himself together. Pressing his mouth into a thin line, he knew what he had to do. He had to be brave. Gabe charged to the hole, where soldiers were clustered more densely. 

"My dad's out there," he said, trying to grab the arm of one. He made contact, and the man looked down at him. 

"Who the hell are you?" he said, surprise flickering on his face. "You shouldn't be here--" he broke off as another man yelled an order. Without further words he ran off, leaving Gabe standing there alone.

He tried again. "Hey, you need to wait––" 

The woman who he'd gone to pushed him away, her face all hard lines and anger. "Get the hell outta here, kid." 

He was alone. Gabe stood there and could only watch as his dad approached with Dusty. Cat hung between them, looking like she'd never wake up. Gabe wasn't sure what dead people looked like. He'd never seen a dead person before. Not really. 

***

The hole loomed in front of them, heavily manned by Marines both in and out of uniform. Ben and Dusty were almost there now. Emmett had somehow gotten there ahead of them; he and Rosa had some sort of scuffle before she stormed back to the vehicle. 

Then, finally, they were in.

The chaos on the other side of the hole was more contained, with Marines following orders as they shot at the approaching horde--Ben counted twenty before he stopped--or worked to cover the hole. As soon as they lowered Cat to rest against the side of a building, Ben was up, looking for Gabe.

There. He was standing far too close to the entrance for his liking, something he hadn't noticed because he'd been so focused on getting Cat to safety. 

Discomfort built in his gut. His number one should have been Gabe, but here he'd let him run off without him and worried instead about a woman he'd only known for hours. 

"Gabe!" He tried yelling over the noise of the base, but it didn't look like he'd heard him.

Evelyn and Rosa were making progress dragging the cancer's useless bulk towards the gateway.

She knew, somewhere deep inside that this guy deserved to be left outside, at the mercy of the ravenous nutcases who were running amok.

While he may have deserved it, she was no executioner. She was a doctor, or at least a doctor resident by any standard. She had finished medical school, but was still working in her specialized field. Still, she had taken the oath, and couldnt just leave the trash on the street.

"Thank you" she manages through ragged breaths. She knew Rosa had the least reason of all to help the jerk, was it for her sake, or because she also had a deep need to leave no man behind.

She turn to see the progress, they were nearly there. She couldnt see the kid but Emmett, Gabe and Dusty were just getting to the barricades.

As the woman turned to leave Richard leaned across to slap her on the ass. She spun around, her face flushed and arm raised, her anger heating the room, before letting her hand fall to her side. Richard smiled back and gave his naked bulging gut a slap. His skin was the colour of curdled milk and it quivered in response, grey hair thick and slick with sweat.
“On you go. Back to your husband.”
She dropped her gaze and quietly left the room. Before the door had closed, the man had already forgotten about her.

Richard lay back in the bed, stroking his moustache and basking for a few moments. The rest of his day was pretty clear. Officially he was canvassing right now and he could do what he liked.
“Gerald!”
The bathroom door opened and a thin agitated man, with thick curly brown hair and glasses stepped out.
“Mr Chotiner?”
“Get a good listen at the keyhole? Pick up some tips? Some fodder for the old monkey bank?”
“Mr Chotiner, I really wish I didn’t have to hide in the bathroom during…"
He paused flustered for a moment and Richard cut in over him.
“Nonsense Gerald. That’s the homosexual in you speaking.”
“Sir I’m not…”
“There is nothing wrong with listening to some good old fashioned American sex. Are you suggesting that sex isn’t part of the American way? My own parents used to loudly make love in the room next to me. Its builds character, resolve and an awareness of your place. You are aware of your place in the pecking order Gerald?”

The secretary was twisting his hands, attempting to look every where but at the man, wearing nothing but socks and a pair of white Y-fronts.
“The pecking order goes; you, maggots, the worms in the ground, hookers, homosexuals, socialists, the media, my stool, the President and then me.”
He had counted these out on his fingers, finally ending on his right thumb which he pointed at himself.
“And don’t you forget that, Gerald.”
“Yes Mr Chotiner.”
“Clothes!”

Richard admired himself in the mirror as he buttoned his suit jacket around his belly. While the reflection might show an overweight man in his fifties, with thinning white hair, piggy eyes and a thick white walrus moustache, he knew this was just a problem with perception. He knew he was looking at a man of power and influence. He was an admiral, master of all in his ship and aware of all the currents which flowed around them. The world didn’t affect him, he affected it! He was a man of influence! He hit the mirror with the heel of his hand and turned away as it smashed to the ground.

“Get the car ready Gerald. Lets go out into the city. My city.”
“Should we head back to the office sir. We have an interview with the Times to pre...”
“Pecking order Gerald. Lets go meet our constituents.”

Gerald looked doubtfully up at his boss. The old bastard had never willingly gone to mix with the ‘great unwashed’ as he termed them. He hoped he wouldn’t be too long doing whatever he was planning. He still needed to review their policy statements before the interview.

Richard was still smiling as the door closed and he took the packet of cocaine from his pocket. He needed to clear the pills from his head before he faced the world again. The admiral was taking deck.

They were steps away. When the van had hit the chain-link gate it had popped the thing off of its rails so that it fell back into the compound. The van itself must have been knocked out of gear as it rebounded backward and rolled a dozen feet or so. Dusty could see that the forklifts were simply going to drop their payload on top of the downed fence and make a semi-permanent solution to the problem. He, Cat, and Ben were only a few steps away. The boy was standing in the middle of all the chaos.

"Ben, I got her. Go get your boy." He grit his teeth and started taking more of Cat's weight before Ben could really reply.

Both Johnsons had already stepped back inside the fence. They knew the score. A hand was frantically waving to his right and he looked toward it. Martinez's eyes locked with his. Somewhere Dusty's buddy from basic had found a rifle, but instead of firing he was desperately trying to get Dusty's attention.

"Mads! Mads, get the fuck inside the wire, bro. They're going to close it up. Get the fuck inside!"

Dusty picked up the pace. He grit his teeth even harder and pushed himself forward.

"Come on, Cat. Damn you, come on..."

Rosa and Evelyn finally drag Cyrus' worthless carcass past the quick setting barricades, just in time.


She let go and fell into a sitting position above his shoulders, breathing hard.
"We should take this assholes lunch money, he's weighs too much."

She looks around, there was still activity, they had sure-as-shit stirred up a hornets nest.
"Maybe theyll throw him in the brig or something?" she asks Rosa, not knowing any of the proper military procedure and decor.

For the most part, they were ignoring them for now, but as soon as the barricades were set and secured, she was sure some pissed off army dudes would be asking lots of questions, questions she wasnt sure she could answer.

"C'mon" she says, standing and extending a hand to Rosa, "Lets go make sure the others are ok."

Didnt they get here first? Were they still outside? They needed to find out quick.

Emmett follows in close behind, trying his best to help with Cyrus and finding it all too difficult to do so. He gasps as he makes it inside the compound, looking around to take a quick inventory of the situation and make sure everyone was inside. Rosa, although somehow pissed off, was inside. Evelyn too. Obviously, Cyrus was inside, the lucky bastard. Had it been a different day, who knows? They might have just left him for chicken feed.

But shit, where was Dusty and Cat? They hadn't made it just yet it looked like.

Shit, shit, shit, hellfire.

He looks over at the two of them inching along, wanting to help, but knowing his damn injuries and fatigue were getting the better of him. He looks around frantically for something to help, knowing that he couldn't be of any use otherwise. The screeching was getting louder and louder. A group of three of the bastards were closing in around Dusty and Cat, looking to feast on them.

The glint of the pistol shines through like a beacon from the ground a few feet away. The old timer hobbles over to it quick as he could and picks it up.

Fuck me, it's been a while since I held one of these. Hope the aim is still good.

He braces for the tug of the pistol as he raises it up and fires a round into the body of the thing closest to Dusty and Cat. It jerks backwards from the hit, but keeps on coming. Emmett fires again, higher this time, letting a round rip half the things head off. It was as if it hit a brick wall, the thing simply crumpling down to the ground. The other two were approaching fast, but the shot wasn't clear.

"Behind you Dusty! Watch out!"

Ben watches in horror as the things rear up behind Dusty, their snarling faces a rictus of teeth and blood. Their eyes have locked on their prey, and Ben’s eyes are drawn to Emmett’s trembling hand. He prays to––he doesn’t know who he prays to, but he just prays, hoping that they make it in time before the barriers are put in place and they’re separated.

Ben doesn’t see the need to lie to himself. He knows, intrinsically, that if Dusty isn’t in the walls when everything calms down that he and their merry band of misfits thrown together in the most horrific of circumstances don’t stand a chance to stay here. His grip tightens against Gabe’s back, pulling his son tighter to his side. Out there, they don’t stand a chance alone.

Coming to a decision, he pulls his son into a quick hug then releases him, tucking him further into the shadows of the guard house they stand beside. He orders his son to stay there, knowing that his voice sounds monstrous and frightening, but faced with the alternative he doesn’t think that he can live with himself if he just stood by and watched as Dusty and Cat were torn apart by creatures that wore the skins of friends and neighbors.

Skidding to a halt beside Emmett, he murmurs a quick “Don’t hit me” before running toward Dusty and Cat. Instead of helping them he does the stupidest thing he can ever imagine himself doing: he shouts for the creatures’ attention.

Sharp, red eyes snap too him and a chill thunders its way down his back. “That’s right, you bastards,” he says quietly as the woman turns fully to him, her hands frozen in claws, the veins tight against the backs of her hands and blood streaked down the front of her blue button up.

His heart pounds out a fierce rhythm as he bolts away from Dusty and Cat but still near enough to the base’s entrance that he can dart inside. He hopes that Emmett is a better shot than his trembling hand indicates or that some of the trigger happy Marines will pick off the woman before she picks off him. I wish I’d listened to dad more when he taught me how to shoot, he thought bitterly as he ran.

***



His dad didn’t even give him time to think. Just a quick whispered I love you, stay here and then he was gone. Gabe’s chest hurt as his dad ran away from him, back toward the danger that they were trying to get away from. He didn’t understand, until he did.

The monster looked at his dad, her eyes red like the coals that his dad used during their barbecues in the backyard during the summer. He couldn’t breathe suddenly when she––it––looked at him and there was a moment when a scream nearly burst from his lips for his dad to run why wasn’t he running? before he did run.

Back toward the men with the guns who were aiming at his dad––no, not his dad, the monster––and Gabe felt like he could breathe again.