The bullet punched through the infected’s skull.
Blood and brain matter sprayed from the wound, splattering across Brian’s face and clothes.
The creature crumpled, its body going limp.
Blood pooled beneath it, the coppery stench filling the air.
Brian felt all the strength drain from his body.
He collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
Behind him, Sarah stood frozen, trembling uncontrollably, too stunned to even scream.
On the other side, Joel had put down Jimmy with a clean shot.
He turned to find one kid slumped on the ground and the other paralyzed with fear.
There was no time for comfort.
They had to move.
“Get up.
We’re leaving.
Now.” Joel grabbed Brian by the arm and hauled him to his feet, then did the same with Sarah.
He shoved them both toward the front door.
They’d barely made it outside when a familiar truck pulled up.
Joel’s brother, Tommy, leaned out the window, relief flashing across his face.
“There you are!
I’ve been calling you.
Do you have any idea what’s happening out there?” “I know.
Just drive.” Joel didn’t waste a word.
He yanked open the back door and pushed the two dazed kids inside.
He didn’t ask about Brian’s parents—he knew they were out of town.
Once the door was shut, he climbed into the passenger seat.
“Damn, Joel, you’re covered in blood!
Are you hurt?” “It’s not mine.
Just go.” Tommy didn’t argue.
He threw the truck into reverse and sped toward the highway.
In the back seat, Brian wasn’t paying attention to the adults up front.
He stared at his own hands, the image of the infected’s head exploding burned into his mind.
I killed someone.
The feeling was sickening.
But he was a grown man in a teenager’s body, and he forced himself to breathe.
Slowly, the nausea faded.
And as it did, something else surfaced.
He’d crossed a line.
A barrier had broken inside him.
He recalled an article he’d read in his past life, about how killers changed after their first murder.
Once you got past the fear and shock, your entire mindset shifted.
You no longer saw others as equals.
You saw them as prey.
Problems were solved with violence.
Killing became the answer to everything.
If I let that happen, I’ll lose myself.
He made a silent vow: stay human.
Stay in control.
“Brian.
Sarah.
You two okay?” Joel twisted around, his voice softer now.
He’d never liked the boy getting too close to his daughter, but Brian had stepped up when it mattered.
That earned some respect.
“I’m fine,” Brian said.
He glanced at Sarah, who gave a weak nod.
Then he asked, “My parents called earlier.
They said the infection’s completely out of control.
What’s the situation out there?” Joel had the same question.
He looked to Tommy for answers.
“Hard to say,” Tommy said, eyes fixed on the road.
“Word is, people in the city are losing their minds.
Something like a parasite, or some other damn thing.
And phones, radios, all of it’s down.
Nobody knows the full picture.” Silence settled over the truck.
Everyone understood now.
This was beyond bad.
As they approached a fork in the road, Tommy remembered something.
“I saw an update before I left.
The military’s set up roadblocks on the highway.
No one’s getting into the county.
Where do we want to go?” Joel thought for a moment.
“If the highway’s out, take Route 71.” “Got it.” A police car screamed past them as Tommy turned right.
Along the road, families scrambled to pack their belongings, desperate to flee with whoever they could save.
Brian spotted a crashed car wrapped around a tree, driver’s door hanging open, the seat empty.
A long smear of blood trailed away into the darkness.
“What the hell are these things?” Joel muttered, thinking back to the infected in his house.
“Wish I knew.
Cops don’t have a clue either,” Tommy replied.
“And it’s not just our town.
The news said it started in the south, but now it’s spreading fast east and west.” They’d been driving for about fifteen minutes when they reached Route 71.
Along the way, they’d passed the Louis farm, still burning, and a family of three trudging along the roadside.
Tommy had wanted to stop and help, but Joel refused.
Too many people.
And they had kids with them.
At the junction, they hit a wall of traffic.
Tommy let out a frustrated sigh.
“Looks like everyone had the same idea.” The cars stretched for what seemed like miles, horns blaring.
A helicopter thundered overhead.
Up ahead, a driver in a blue car had clearly run out of patience.
He threw his door open and screamed at the gridlock.
“What the hell’s going on up there?
Move it!” His words died in his throat.
Two figures in hospital gowns lunged from the darkness.
One tackled the man to the ground, teeth sinking into flesh.
The other dove through the open driver’s door, attacking the woman in the passenger seat.
“Oh God…” Inside the truck, everyone froze.
The infected that had killed the driver spotted them, its face slick with blood.
It let out a guttural roar and charged.
“Tommy, reverse!
Now!” Joel’s shout snapped Tommy out of his trance.
He slammed the gear shift into reverse and floored the gas, peeling backward into the nearby town.
They tore through the streets until they hit a main road, only to find it choked with panicked survivors.
The mob slowed them down.
Up ahead, an overturned car blocked half the road, leaving just enough space for one vehicle to squeeze through.
Tommy slowed to a crawl, hoping the crowd would thin out.
But more people kept coming.
Joel’s urgent commands grew sharper.
Finally, Tommy gritted his teeth, floored the gas, and shot through the narrow gap.
HONK—!
Before anyone could breathe, blinding headlights appeared from the left.
An out-of-control truck slammed into them.
CRASH!
The impact flipped the truck.
They rolled across the asphalt, tumbling again and again, until they slammed to a stop against a storefront, lying on their side.
Brian didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious.
His head throbbed like someone was driving nails into his skull.
But his body worked.
He was alive.
The truck was on its side.
Sarah and Joel were out cold.
The driver’s seat was empty.
Tommy was gone, probably thrown clear.
Brian yanked on the door.
Jammed.
The frame was crushed.
But the sunroof was still intact.
He popped it open and climbed out.
Outside, chaos reigned.
Flames painted the street orange.
People ran screaming in every direction.
In the distance, he could make out infected figures shambling through the mayhem.
“Sarah!
Joel!
Wake up!” Brian crouched by the sunroof, shouting into the cabin.
He shook Joel’s shoulder, but the man was too big to pull out.
Instead, Brian reached for Sarah, dragging her through the window.
Joel stirred.
He saw Sarah being pulled to safety and let out a breath of relief.
Then he kicked the windshield with both boots until it shattered, and crawled out after them.
Sarah’s eyes fluttered open.
Brian leaned over her, checking for injuries.
“Are you okay?
Are you hurt?” She opened her mouth to answer, but the words died in her throat.
Her eyes went wide with terror, fixed on something behind him.
Brian spun around.
A snarling infected was charging straight at him from a dark alley, its face twisted and inhuman.