End of Death (manxman)

Fall of Civilization: Part 4 - Incubation

The road ahead of them was blocked. Cars were jammed together abandoned, a gridlock nightmare. Graham's eyes squinted in the sunlight; they took the car on the edge into the dirt and drove around as they entered Albuquerque city limits. The sky was cloudy and smoke rose in the distance.

"We can drive back to the 6, then take that to the 40, then switch back to the 85 in downtown Albuquerque." Milo looked at a map on Graham's smartphone, which they had been charging in the car.

"That'll take too long." Graham didn't like this, not one bit, and the feeling of dread seemed to fester and grow as they approached the city. No military presence whatsoever. It was odd considering there were so many of them back in their hometown.

Graham kept to the side roads, avoiding the city center. Houses were emptied and shadowy figures drifted in the smoky streets.

"You think anyone is alive out there?" Milo pressed his face to the glass and saw some figures limping out of the houses – infected. One was a little girl in her pajamas, following the sound of the car.

"Probably, hiding," Graham slowed at an intersection where an ambulance had crashed into a minivan. A thought crossed his mind, medical supplies, but he didn't want to stop the car. Fear got the better of him and he drove around it. For the meantime, he could avoid any horror. "Keep the handgun up here, I want you to hold it at all times."

"Okay, yeah," Milo bent into the back seat and reached into the duffle grabbing a handgun. Graham watched the boy turn the safety on then returned his eyes to the road.

A car sped by, a sports car with some people in it. Graham's eyes widened, he looked at the direction they were coming from. The horde of undead bodies was massive. Graham turned the wheel and sped, following the sports car. Adrenaline overtook him as he sped down the street out of the suburbs and deeper into the city.

"Wait, we need to go that way!" Milo shouted but Graham couldn't hear him. Graham was intent to escape. The red car swerved around a corner and an older man carrying a young boy ran out in the street waving his hand. Graham hit the break but served around the man.

"Stop! They need help!" Milo shouted.

Graham's daughter and wife flashed in front of his eyes. Her little hands reaching out to him. Graham slowed down the car outside a gas station and put it in park. He quickly reached into the duffle bag and pulled out another handgun. "Stay," Graham looked at Milo then jumped out of the car.

"Hello!" Graham shouted. A trashcan near the gas station fell over and a man in a hospital gown groaned stumbling over to the car. "Do you need help?" Graham eyed the infected stumbling closer. He turned and aimed then fired. He hit the infected in the neck, one more shot and the infected dropped to the ground brains splattering on the asphalt.

"Graham!" Milo shouted from the car. Graham turned to see the older man pointing a gun towards the passenger seat of the car.

"Hey, hey!" Graham growled and aimed his handgun at the guy. Milo and the man were in a standoff, both aiming guns at each other.

"I need your car." The man whimpered his hand shaking, "my boy – my boy has been bit and I need to take him to the hospital."

Graham's face softened, he knew what that meant. One bite was all it took. Graham didn't know where the little boy was now. "You know, that won't work." Graham held his gun out.

"I need to try. So please, give me your car." The man's face was desperate and Graham recognized that look when he looked at himself in the mirror.