"FUCK!"
The man behind the steering wheel struggles to keep the speeding batter SUV on the road with out clipping another jack-knifed semi or cluster of dead things milling about the edges of the asphalt. His voice is hoarse from all the screaming. Every muscle feels like it's been set a blaze. The blood from the gash on the right side of his scalp has made its way into his eye.
"Just hold on Joe, we just need to get clear of these fucking assholes!"
"I-I don't know James… I'm not feelin' so good.."
The smaller man in the back seat replied leaning his head against the broken rear-window as the car passes another cluster of dark shambling figures fighting over something dark and wet. The cold seeping air tosses his long blood matted hair.
"Sun's almost up, just hang in there. We'll find some help!"
James' large gnarled hands grip the steering wheel tighter, making his knuckles go ashen white. His broad shoulders- still clad in the same black battle tattered hoodie- hunch over the dash. The soft blue light illuminates his pill shaped face hidden under an ill attended wild beard, his nose is large and slightly c-curved while a little wider at the end. His dark deep set and up-turned eyes focus on the road ahead as best they can before they quick glance up into the hairline cracked rear-view mirror.
"Trevor?"
He scans the shadows of the backseat, studying the other twenty-something young man slumped in the opposing seat from the broken window.
"Trevor? Talk to me, how are you holding up man?" He says sternly.
The boyish face of Trevor becomes visible for the briefest of moments as they pass the distant orange glow of a fire- its either a farm or some small survivor community- all of it going up in flames- a mile long conflagration that spews black ash into the air like snowflakes in a flurry. The boy looks panicked, his normally disinterested half lidded eyes are now wide open, glazed, staring off into nothing -lost in the after glow of what James has no doubt is result of the shock and horror at the events that have just transpired. His hands are held high and close to his chest, his legs are folded inward close to his body. It looks as if Trevor has instinctually tried to make his normally lumbering frame as small as possible as some sort defense mechanism.
Then all at once he blinks his eyes into focus and convulses, lurching forward to tightly grip Aleks' chair. The sudden motion causes Aleks to flinch away from his seat bracing himself for the outburst that's sure to follow.
"F-fuck! Their all fucking dead aren't they?! We're next man! We're just as fucked aren't we?!"
The car goes silent. Aleks find himself trying to find the right words to say but the tense air clouds any rational thought. Displeased with the lack of confirmation or dispute Trevor bellows again
"AREN'T WE?!"
He grabs a hold of Aleks' shoulder forcing the tattooed Russian to look him in the eye. Like a deer in head lights he's too shocked to speak.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
James' own hand comes crashing down on Trevor's yanking it off him and throwing it to the side harshly. Once again the car is silent. Trevor sinks into his seat glaring at the man in the mirror, while Aleks looks to him searching for some unspoken answer- at this point he's unsure if the young mans rambling is that all that far from the truth. The air feels dense and heavy- the reality of what could be looms over them.
Through the gore smudged windshield James focuses on the rushing white lines of the leprous asphalt. Mile, after mile of the wreckage-strewn road churning under them- it's a never ending landscape of a desolate rural and decaying wasteland. Skeletal trees on either side of the highway blur in curly haired man's burning teary gaze. His ribs pang with pain intermittently with each twist of his midsection, taking his breath away- a fracture maybe, maybe worse, his wound sustained in the tumultuous attack from raiders in what was once a small town him and his boys had be lucky enough come by.
He's assuming Trevor's right- that the towns people and raiders all perished in this same vast mob of dead things that had wrought havoc, barreling through barricades, burrowing into homes and buildings like swarm of locusts- eviscerating the innocent and guilty alike. The silence remains a moment longer, the white noise of the wind and the drumming of the tires provides a hypnotic soundtrack to their misery. For one final time he looks into the same mirror peering at the two haggard young men in the back seat. With a shaky long breath he finds his voice again.
"You don't know that, we could survive. We have survived, I'm not gonna just give up. I refuse to accept that. If there a chance I can get us through this- I will."
It's become too dark for James to read the expression on the kids face. He turns to look back at him and open his mouth to speak, but a noise forces him to look back the road. All for men let out a scream as a battalion of figures come into view. They're directly in the vehicle's on coming path. James tries swerve out of the way but there's just too many.