Chapter 2

Scott slammed the accelerator to the floor and burned rubber, spitting out two trails of smoke behind his truck. He gasped for breath as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

No person could stand up after taking a .45 to the shoulder, much less the shoulder and the knee Scott thought to himself. He had to use 3 shots to drop his neighbor, with the third slug landing directly between his eyes. He tried to make sense of everything, he grabbed the carton of cigarettes that he left on his seat and pulled out a box. He pulled out a cigarette and before he could light it, he slammed on the breaks. The truck squealed to a stop and lurched, violently. He held the cigarette in his mouth for a brief moment, before his jaw fell, causing the cigarette to fall to the floor. He stared in shock at what lied before him.

Chaos, pure, utter chaos.

People were screaming, crying, trying to find help. Other people, were wandering around with similar mannerisms to that of Fred. They shambled about in the middle of the street looking about with no direction. They all looked like walking death, they had huge chunks of skin hanging off of them. Some even look as if there faces had been torn to shreds. One of these people, a middle aged female, turned towards Scott's truck. Scott look on in horror as the woman had one of her eye balls hanging from the socket by a thin strand. Her face was clawed to hell. Her arms had chunks ripped from the bone. She had blood dripping from her mouth. Scott froze in shock, not moving at all. The woman began, slowly to make her way to his truck. Scott began to tremble, until a voice called out.

"Beth! Oh my god Beth" A man ran out into the streets to the woman.

"Beth, What happened Beth?" The man got within about ten feet of the woman before turning and looking at Scott.

"Help us please!" The man yelled to Scott. "Please, my wife, she's hurt really ba...." Before he could finish the sentence his wife, or what was left of her, lunged at him and clamped her teeth down on his throat. The man screamed in agony as she ripped away, taking a huge segment of skin with her.

"Holy Shit!" Scott said to himself. The man panicked and ran, as blood squirted from the baseball sized wound on his neck. He tripped on the ground and fell on his face. He tried getting up but it was too late. Several more of the people converged on him and began biting and tearing at him, ripping his midsection in half, spilling his entrails all over the road. Blood spurted everywhere, as the group feasted on his body.

"Oh my fucking God!" Scott still frozen in fear, until he felt a sharp thud against the passenger side door. He turned to see one of the mutilated people clawing at the glass window, leaving behind smears of blood with every pass. The creature moaned incoherently as he tried to gain access to the truck. Scott stared directly into the his eyes. Scott swallowed hard.

"Not today, Freak." Scott said to himself, as he pushed down hard on the accelerator, spinning his tires once again. He sped off. Straight ahead of him, one of the mutated people stood in the middle of the road.

"Fuck..." Scott told himself. The creature stood frozen, but that didn't stop the oncoming truck. Scott hit the man, causing the man to get sucked underneath the truck. As Scott passed over him, he looked in his rear-view mirror to see the shredded remains of his body, still twitching in the road. He continued to drive, not stopping for anything or anyone. He could see people running around looking for an escape as the disfigured ones gave chase. Scott drove, avoiding cars that had been abandoned, before he heard gunfire coming from up ahead. He quickly raced to the noise and saw a police office ducked behind his cruiser, firing at an on coming horde. Half of Scott wanted to stop and help, the other half wanted to keep driving. He had seconds to choose.

The keep driving half won.

Scott looked into his rear view mirror, just in time to see the people converge on the office. He fired wildly in the air and screamed for help, but his cries were soon silenced. Scott began to gasp for breath as he still didn't understand what was going on.

"This is no fuckin' riot I have ever seen!" Scott continued to push his truck hard, the accelerator still down to the floor. He grabbed his cigarettes again and finally was able to light up. The nicotine did nothing to relax to him like it usually does. He continued driving, including passing his workplace. He looked into the parking lot, seeing people scattering. Some of them were alive, others weren't so lucky. He weaved through several stalled out cars on the road, almost clipping a few of them. He slowed down to avoid another few cars, trying to pass through a small gap between them. As he slowly crept through the twisted metal jungle, he heard a thumping on his passenger side window. He turned to see a man pounding his fist against the glass.

"Help me please!" The man said. Scott paused for a second, trying to think. He eventually gave in and unlocked the door. He through the two bags into the bag but kept the .45 on his lap. The man ripped the door open and slid into the passenger seat. "Thank you so much, you don't know what this means to me." Scott didn't saw a word, only nodded at the stranger. Scott tried to focus on the road, passing between the cars.

"Are you hurt?" Scott asked him.

The man stammered for a second before talking, "Um, no...i mean..yeah, one of those mean bastards got me on the leg."

Scott paused for a moment, before reaching into his lap and grabbing the .45. "Then you have no place here...." Scott said as he lifted the .45 up and pointed it at the man.

"What the hell are you doing?" The man asked with nervousness in his voice.

"You have been bitten...that means you are gonna become one of them." Scott said as he tried to focus on the road and the man. "Now get the hell out of my truck."

The man struggled to find the words as Scott slowed the truck to a crawl. "Please just listen..."

"No you listen, I ain't risking my life for you."

The stammered again and lowered his head. He turned and looked as if he was going to leave, but turned back to Scott with a 9mm hand gun in his hand.

"No you listen, you are gonna get the hell out."

Scott didn't even look at the man. He realized his .45 was much more powerful than that pea shooter the man had, but it wouldn't have matter because Scott couldn't focus on the road and the man at the same time. Scott stopped the truck completely and put the truck into park. He looked around to make sure none of the freaks were close. He opened up the drivers side door and nodded.

"Good." The man said as he opened up his door. Scott slid out into the street and stared at the man as he walked around the front of the truck.

"See you in hell asshole." Scott said as the man passed in front of him. The man only smiled as he turned his back to get into the truck. He was half way into the truck, when in a split second, Scott had a thought. Scott grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it on the man. The man yelled in pain as the door crashed against his back and legs. The impact jarred the 9mm out of his hand and landed on the front seat. Scott quickly lifted his gun, but the man responded with a back elbow into Scott's stomach. Scott dropped his .45, which the man tried to pick up but Scott quickly kicked the gun under the truck. The two continued to scuffle, and all the noise attracted some unwanted attention. Several of the disfigured freaks began moving to the truck. Scott could see this out of his peripheral vision. The man tackled him to the ground and laced his fingers around Scott's throat and began to choke him. Scott looked over and gasped for air. He could see the .45 sitting under his truck. He began to reach, as it was just out of arms length. Scott had to think quick because if he didn't he would either be strangled or be eaten. Scott lifted up a knee into the man's midsection, causing him to gasp in pain and release his grip. Scott rolled over an grabbed the gun. He rolled back over and saw the mutants coming in closer. The unknown man regained his composure and tried to attack again. Scott focused and lifted the gun up and fired a shot. This one planted it self square into the gut of the unknown man. The man gasped as he looked down at the hole in his gut. Scott quickly got to his feet and opened moved to the truck. The man staggered around for a moment, before turning his back to Scott. The man lifted his head just in time to see the freaks converge on him. The man did nothing to stop it, because he couldn't. Scott jumped in his truck and shut both doors. He looked at the groups of freaks as they feasted on their meal. Scott shook his head and tossed the .45 and the 9mm into his passenger seat.

"Last time I help anyone." Scott said coldly as he drove off.