The static on the screen cleared again into a picture. There showed a field reporter in a city. It kind of looked like he was covering a war zone. In the corner of the screen, there was a little caption that said, in a very stylish and trendy font, 'Live Footage!'. The reporter was currently interviewing some sort of army man.
"I am currently speaking with Private Geoffrey Jennings of the 23rd battle platoon in Newark," said the reporter hurriedly. "We are here covering the struggle against these seemingly enraged mobs of rioters. What do you have to say about the riots, and how are you dealing with the uprising?" They were standing behind a military truck. The sound of machine gun fire rattled in the background.
"Well, these things we're fighting sure as hell ain't human beings." The soldier had a medium-thick southern accent. "The specialist we got out here is saying it's drugs they're on, but there's no drug lets you take a full clip to the heart and keep comin'. Chaplain says they're the devil's army, and I never was a religious man, but I'm startin' to believe him."
"And how are you combating these attackers?" An explosion cracked in the background, and a flash of light lit the sky beyond the truck. A person off camera whooped an obscenity enthusiastically.
"Well, last transmission we got was that martial law was declared, so we're shooting on sight, but that ain't keeping them back. In fact, the gunfire seems to just attract more of 'em." Then the sound of gunfire exploded. A man shouted, then the shout turned into a scream.
"Oh, shit!" screamed Private Jennings. He jumped up and pulled himself onto the top of the truck. The reporter told the cameraman to stay on him. The camera filmed ground for a second, then static erupted for a moment, and then it showed a scene of carnage that would never be allowed on normally censored television. Dead bodies lay strewn across the ground, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst were the dead bodies that stood, gorging themselves upon the remains of an officer. Private Jennings swore, and opened fire. Then the camera leveled itself on a sweeping shot of the street. A multitude of swarming, ghoulish figures came for the truck. There were thousands of them, at the very least, and they showed no signs of being intimidated by the gunfire. The camera dropped to the ground, and over the creatures' moaning and the gunfire, only the sound of running steps and screaming could be heard.
"Whoa," said Carrie. "That's pretty intense." Her face was pale. So was Ben's, and Reuben's. And Jaimie's. It was certainly intense.
"What the hell are we going to do?" said Ben harshly. "Do you know how glad I was when you showed up with a gun? Now what?" He sounded slightly manic.
"We absolutely have to stay calm, for one thing," said Reuben. "For another, we have to get out of here. We should try to get somewhere safer than this. More defensible, I mean. Those monsters can break through these windows, I think. Also, We should go into a town to find some weapons." He opened his mouth again, as though he was going to say more, but closed it.
"So, does everyone here have a car?" asked Carrie. There were two nods. "Then, we'll stay together. I think us three as a group should stay together."
"Four," said Jaimie. "There are four of us."
"That's what I meant," Carrie quipped. "So, we should head down route 98 to Lerring. It's a small town, and it's in the middle of nowhere, so I bet there's none of the things there."
"Okay, let's go," said Ben. He turned to the door, but Reuben stopped him.
"We should stock up on food. We don't know when we'll get another chance. Let's look in all the kitchens of these restaurants," he said. The wisdom of these words met it's impact upon the other two adults. They nodded and made for the fast food counters. Ben went into the McDonald's, Reuben and Jaimie went into the SaladFresh, and Carrie went into the Papa Gino's. There was a big cooler full of salad in bags in the back of the SaladFresh, but they didn't take it out. They were interrupted by a scream. It sounded like it came from the McDonald's.
"Ben," said Reuben, and ran out to the open space of the rest area. He looked to the McDonald's, took a breath, and ran into it.
There was quite a scene in the McDonald's kitchen. Ben was on his back, fighting off another figure, obviously one of the ghouls that were sprouting up everywhere. Reuben yelled in surprise, then grabbed a frying pan off of a stove nearby him. He ran up to the ghoul, and slammed the large frying back down lengthwise on it's back. He heard a crack, and the demon's lower half went limp. It stopped attempting to bite Ben, and pushed itself off of him, flipping itself onto the floor, where it floundered about for a bit, before trying to drag itself with it's hands towards Reuben. Ben, slightly dazed, recovered quickly and jumped back towards Reuben. He grabbed the pan out of the other's hands and slammed it down on the monster's head. It's forehead caved it, and a shower of brain matter and blood spattered the two men.
"Fuck food, we're outta here."