I woke up screaming. I was still in the cab of the truck. I had pulled over at a rest stop to sleep, use the bathroom, and clean out the vending machines. At first, I couldn't remember how long I'd been there, but then it dawned on me. It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. The sun had barely set and it was only about five o'clock or so when I'd stopped.

The dream. I kept seeing Tyler coming at me. Jake was there, too, but the focus seemed to be Tyler. He was just a kid and I had killed him. Then the others when I had first left their house. They surrounded me. I couldn't get away. They closed in on me until there was just darkness. That was where I woke up. Screaming. I don't know why I screamed; in my dream I was silent.

My thoughts turned to those people who had surrounded me in the truck. I had closed my eyes when I stomped on the gas pedal. I could feel the thuds against the truck and the feel the tires running bodies over. I looked back through the rearview mirror to see those that were on the ground were beginning to get back up, or were at least crawling away. One of them, it looked like the tires of the truck had smashed the head. That one wasn't moving. This was something I needed to think about, but later.

Now, at the rest stop, I had that time to think. There was nothing else to do but think. The radio stations had all cut off and were broadcasting the same emergency warnings. Head to Atlanta and the CDC or go to the military bases. I didn't pay them much attention. I knew where I needed to go. My parents' farm. It wasn't big, but it was secluded. Somehow that seemed like the thing to look for right now. Seclusion. My dad was a die-hard military man who always prepared for major crises. He had food stores, weapons, just about everything you'd need to survive a major catastrophe. I had always laughed at this, but now it looked like a godsend.

My only problem now seemed to be fuel. The truck apparently didn't get the best gas mileage and I was already down to a quarter of a tank. I couldn't remember what the last road sign had said about how far it was to the next gas station. I prayed it wasn't far. I had a distinct feeling going any distance on foot would be bad for my health.

I grabbed a can of Pepsi out of the pile of junk food on the floor of the passenger-side of the cab. I drank it down in three gulps. I needed the caffeine. I turned the key in the ignition and the truck roared to life. I looked in the rearview mirror to back up and saw someone stumbling toward me and the truck. I didn't hesitate this time, I aimed for her. The head popped off and went flying. I heard the head bounce off the roof the cab as I kept going back. Part of me felt the need to be sick at this, but I knew I couldn't afford that feeling anymore. It was a new world. End of the world? Maybe. I was still here, though, and I planned on keeping it like that.

I put the truck in drive and took off, headed to the next gas station. I kept checking the fuel gauge, hoping it'd be my friend and tell me not to worry, that I'd get there with no problem.

I made it to the gas station. Barely. I essentially coasted up to the gas pump. There weren't any cars here. I mean, NO cars. Not even the car for the person that should be working the registers. At first I was pissed. The truck was on empty and it looked like I would have to hoof it. I climbed out of the cab of the truck, slamming the door. I looked at the pump, reading all the decals.

"Thank the fucking lord!"

The pumps were automated, all I had to do was swipe my debit card. A nagging voice in the back of my head had a sneaking doubt that the system wasn't going to work and I'd be left out on the lurch. Regardless, I opened the door to grab my card out of my bag. I swiped the card in the magnetic reader and the pump beeped to life, authorizing the card and asking me to choose which fuel I wanted. I let out a breath I hadn't been aware I'd been holding and chose the cheapest. I laughed at myself, of all times to consider money!

I filled the tank, put the cap back on, and climbed back into the cab. Starting the ignition, I sat there a moment, watching the needle climb on the fuel gauge. I smiled as it hit the Full Line, put the gear in drive, and took off. I got back on the highway, and headed towards my parents' place.

I pulled up at the gate leading to my parents' property. The gate was closed and chained up. I put the truck in park, turned off the ignition, and climbed out. I was hoping that the padlock was open, but it wasn't.

"Damn it to hell!"

I looked around, looking for someone, anyone. No one around that I could see, so I climbed up and over the gate and walked on up the dirt road to the house.

I got about a hundred yards away from the front porch when I heard someone shout out for me to halt. I froze in place. I knew my dad. He was one of those kind that would shoot first and ask questions later.

"Dad?" I shouted.

Within a minute the front door flew open and my mom and dad came running out to me. My mom had tears streaking down her face and my dad wore a look of relief. It never failed; I broke down in tears myself at the sight of my mom, and ran into her arms. My dad crushed us both in one of his famous bear hugs. He didn't say a word, just grabbed both of us by the arm and dragged us back into the house, locking and barring the door behind us.

"Dad, I gotta truck out at the gate. There's food and stuff out there."

He nodded, and shouted for my brother Matt to come down from upstairs. For the first time ever, I was happy to hear that my brother Matt was in the same house as me. When he came down the stairs, I couldn't stop myself from running to him and hugging him, too. He hugged me back, no words were needed. The world had gone to hell and we were family. Despite our past differences, family was family. His wife, Jenn, was behind him on the stairs. I smiled up at her and she rushed to join our hug. The tears were flowing.

My Dad and Matt walked down to the truck and brought it back up to the house. Everyone pitched in to get it quickly unloaded and everything inside the house. Dad nodded in approval at what I had managed to pack into the truck in my haste to escape Robin's house. I felt the need to tell my Dad everything that had happened. Maybe he had some idea of what was going on. He always knew this sort of stuff.

At the moment however, I was learning that all my brothers and their families were here, not just Matt and Jenn. Steve, Meagan, and their kids; Kevin and his Jenn and their kids; and John and Heather. At first, this was the happiest I'd been since all this shit had started.

Dad broke the news, "Caryn, sweetie," he shook his head, "It ain't good. Kevin, Jenn, John, Meagan, even the kids got bit on their way here. Bites aren't good."

I was horrified. I knew for a fact that bites weren't good. Wasn't it a bite that had started everything with Tyler and Jake? I thought it had to be an extreme case of rabies. I wasn't certain, but that's what it felt like. It didn't explain the people moving after being run over by the truck, but my mind was happy to stay along this line of thinking.

"Dad, where are they?"

He told me he had them set up in the back part of the house. The addition that he had built that could essentially be shut off from the main part of the house by closing the giant steel curtain he had installed along the entrance. I never loved or hated my Dad so much as I did at that moment. He was already planning on the worst scenario.

My brother Steve made an appearance. He came from that back part of the house, the look on his face told me more than I wanted to know. He lived for his family and he was watching them slowly turn into something else. I walked over to him and hugged him, but he didn't return the hug. He was stiff, the life seemingly already drained from him. All the good feelings that had rushed over me when I first saw Mom and Dad quickly turned to ice as I realized no matter what, I was about to lose more than half of my family.