Author's Note: Hiya! Sorry about the long wait, but I've been really busy with school…and my computer broke. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! There will be more action soon enough ^_^
James walked along the road, looking down with his hands in his pockets. It was quiet now. Much more quiet. He wasn't sure how long he had walked, but he was still nowhere near the police station. The police station was all the way downtown. James would have to walk quite a while to get there, and it wouldn't be a pleasant walk.
'I really wish I had a car. I could get there faster,' he thought. Debbie had drove the car to her mother's house when he said he wanted to stay. When she called he told her not to worry about it, that he'd take a bus out of town to see her.
'Except I can't find a damn bus,' James thought bitterly.
He hadn't been bothered by anymore of those "diseased" people. However, he couldn't get the image of the dead woman attacking him out of his head. He had been taught to deal with a lot of crazy stuff during his life, but that image continued to disturbed him.
'The faster I get to the police station, the faster I can get out of here while things cool down,' he thought. Some vacation...
James looked up and noticed that he was near a small group of stores. Among them was his wife's favorite store, the Sherman's Boutique. A mannequin was propped up in the window, covered in red stains. Glass shards covered the sidewalk, and it was completely dark inside. The other stores weren't in much better condition. James shook his head, wondering what had happened.
He heard a low moan behind him. The hair on his neck immediately stood up. Behind him was an overweight sickly man rising to his feet. Large chunks of flesh had been torn off his body. He looked at James with milky white eyes and shuffled towards him.
James reached for his knife, slowly backing away. It was then that he heard a chorus of moans. Several diseased people-no, zombies-were limping towards James with their arms outstretched to grab him.
'No! I'm surrounded!' he thought. Panic and fear flooded him. They unmercifully lumbered toward him, each wanting to chew and rip him apart to satisfy their ravenous appetites. James tried to call for help, but his voice was trapped in his throat. They closed in on him, and James finally screamed out the words that swirled in his brain.
"No! No! Please! No!"
Joseph Barkley tossed an empty beer can into the back of his dirty car. He was a heavyset, thirty-one year old man. He had messy black hair that was drench in sweat. He wore a white shirt with a brown vest over it and blue jeans. He wasn't considered the neatest person in the world, but right now he could've cared less.
He had been driving around for quite some time now. He knew he should have arrived at the police station by now, but for some reason every road he took led him in the wrong direction. He had drove by the police station before, why the hell couldn't he find it now?
'Those monsters, those horrible monsters,' he thought. He had encountered a few of those...those...things. The only way he could describe them as was zombies. They looked like the zombies right off the cheap horror flicks he used to watch dozens of times as a teenager.
'But zombies aren't real...'
Something dashed in front of his car, causing Joseph to slam on his brakes. He swore loudly and his eyes darted around to see what had ran out in front of him. Sweat dribble down his face.
He heard a deep, low growl. A few of them. Shadows moved rapidly in the dark.
"What the hell's out there?" Joseph muttered. He leaned closer to the window, hoping to get a better look at what was outside. His foot rested on the gas pedal, ready to take off when he needed to.
THUMP!
A dog, caked with blood, leaped onto the hood of the car and smashed against the glass. It left a large splatter of blood on his windshield before it tumbled off. Joseph screamed and fell back into his seat. He slammed on the gas pedal and sent the car speeding forward.
He checked his rearview mirror and saw that more of those blood-covered dogs were chasing after his car. There were about five of them following him, but they were struggling to keep up with him. Joseph wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling a little safe in his car. He was probably twenty miles over the speed limit, but he doubted a cop would come to pull him over anytime soon.
Police station...I have to get to the police station. Oh God, let me survive until I get there...
He focused on the wreckage of the city. Cars were overturned, some of the buildings were on fire or smeared with blood, dead bodies littered the streets. A lot of the bodies belonged to cops who died during the riot. Half of them looked eaten, some were ripped in half...
Joseph looked away in disgust. He could barely stand the sight of blood, and now that was what the city was covered in. He slowed down, watching out for any sign of threat. So far it seemed peaceful enough. Maybe there were no more zombies left.
Joseph tried to focus on the road, but his eyes kept shifting to the blood smears on the buildings. They seemed to dance across the buildings in mesmerizing patterns, like someone had merely taken a paintbrush and painted it on. Then the patterns slowly became letters, then they became words.
KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL
More sweat dripped down Joseph's forehead. The hair on the back on his neck rose as the disturbing words were painted across the building. His heart pounded against his chest, as if it were going to explode. His hands shook as he tried to calm himself.
Joseph stopped the car and closed his eyes. He murmured a prayer to himself, wishing that it would all just go away. He was afraid to look, he was afraid at what he would see next. Zombies, decaying dogs, words written in blood, his precious hometown consumed in flames. It was too much for him.
'Just have to…escape…there should be a neighborhood nearby…less monsters…' he thought. After his heartbeat began beating in a calm, rhythmic pattern again, he opened his eyes. He saw a shadow out the corner of his eye. Joseph craned his neck to see what was standing outside his car.
A gray-colored hand suddenly clawed at his window, making Joseph jump. An ugly, decaying face peered into the glass. It was the face of a man, or used to be the face of a man. Now all there was left was those terrifying blank eyes, that evil scowl…
Joseph slammed on the gas pedal once again, and the monster disappeared from view. The buildings and fire passed him in a dismal blur. He drove further and further away from the wreckage of the city, determined to escape on his own. No cop would be able to help him here.
As he continued forward, he saw a group of stores. From within that group of stores, he could also hear a man screaming. The screaming was accompanied by moans.
'Someone's alive?' Joseph thought. He knew it was a dangerous idea, and the survivor was most likely a goner, but the fact that there was someone else alive in this town was enough motivation to make him check it out.
Joseph drove closer to the source of the scream. A mob of zombies were crowded around a lone man holding a knife in his hand. He backed away, slicing at a zombie's hand that came too close to him. In just a few minutes, the man would be dead.
'What should I do?' Joseph wondered. He had no weapons, and if he got out of the car he'd surely meet the same fate as the survivor. The only option left was to barrel through the hordes of zombies with his car. Joseph swallowed hard.
'I can't believe I'm doing this…'
Joseph sped up and plowed through several zombies. His car swerved and nearly spun out of control. He could feel the bumps of zombies being crushed under his car. The man looked at him in shock as Joseph skidded to a halt in front of him.
"Get in!" Joseph screamed, motioning to him. The man quickly shook off his surprise and got into the passenger's side, slamming the door close before the remaining zombies could slip inside with him. Joseph pressed his foot against the gas pedal and they sped away. The man looked out the window. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"Hey, this isn't the way to the police station," he said.
"We're not going to the police station," Joseph replied irritably, "if I have to go into that Godforsaken town again, I'll go insane. I'm leaving the city."
The man looked at him oddly, then brushed his bangs out of his face.
"Uh, well, thanks for the help. My name's James," he said.
"Joseph Barkley."
The two men sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. James continued to stare out the window and Joseph focused on the road. The only sounds they heard where the moans from those who had suffered a fate worse than death.
'Soon,' Joseph thought, 'Soon it will all be over.'
'I hope.'
