The First 30 Days (PUBLISHED)

Six -Day 4

The older man stared through the window with bloodshot eyes, low growls vibrating from his chest, hands stained a rusty brown pressed to the glass. I suddenly wished fervently for the scissors that I had previously been unsure I could use, but I had lost them in my struggle to unlock the front door.

I couldn't stay sitting out in the open like this. My car was effective in keeping out one crazed person, but more would come and I wasn't sure it would stand up to a mob. I was shaking so hard that I missed the ignition the first time I tried to get the key in. The second attempt wasn't much better, as a scream from the man a foot away from my ear made me jump.

The third time was the charm. Thankful that my paranoid visions of the car inexplicably not starting did not come true, I shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. The car crunched over a foot on the way out and I reflexively flinched at the sound, but the guy didn't react, just kept pace with my window with an even more exaggerated gait than before.

What was wrong with everyone that made them impervious to pain? Evie had not been bothered by her tumble down our stairs, whoever this guy was didn't notice a broken foot, and I didn't even want to think about the horrifying injuries I'd seen on Austin.

That word I was trying to ignore whispered in the depths of my mind again. Shifting, I got out of there in a squeal of tires.

It soon became obvious that whatever was going on, it was happening all over town. Everywhere my car went, I attracted immediate attention from bloody, screaming people. I ended up having to drive across the high school football field to get away from a group of dozens who almost managed to bog down my car.

I was reluctant to actually run anyone over. It was while I was bumping my way over the track that circled the football field that I realized that someone on the radio may have a clue what was going on. Blaming lack of food and sleep for my sluggish thinking, I reached for the radio knob.

"... advise all residents to stay indoors and keep their windows and doors locked. Do not open the doors for anyone unknown or exhibiting symptoms of the virus. The infected are considered highly contagious and contact with blood should be avoided. If someone in your home may be ill, it is recommended they be taken to the nearest emergency treatment facility. Residents should expect to be in their homes for up to two weeks. Water, food, and medications for everyone in your home should be gathered. Check back in to this broadcast frequently for any updates."

That annoying beep that always accompanies emergency broadcasts blared as I dodged a woman in her housecoat who was missing a conspicuous amount of flesh from her neck. I was starting to see the validity of the warning to stay inside. Every turn I made seemed to only find more people who wanted to attack me. I was going to need to find someplace to hide.

But where?

Going back to my own house was not an option. I didn't have a lot of family, we weren't close, and none of them lived anywhere nearby anyhow. My friends were limited to 'work friends'. We saw each other five days a week, talked amicably over lunch, but that was it. I had no idea where any of them even lived.

Unconsciously, I found myself driving a roundabout route towards my office building. I really had no good place to go. Once I realized where I had been driving, however, I pushed a little harder on the gas. It had been the weekend when this whole disaster started. The building should be empty, and I was one of the employees who happened to have a key to the back door.

The numbers of sick people increased as I drove further into town. Running along, shrieking at each other and me, they drew more attention than I liked. By the time I made the last turn onto my work street, there were enough people giving chase to fill my rearview mirror.

The alley leading to the back door was barely wide enough to fit my car. I'd forgotten about the dumpster that all of the businesses used back there.

Halfway down the alley, I wasn't driving any further. Snatching the keys, I leaped from the car. The hair raising sounds coming from the way too close for comfort mob behind me told me that I had seconds before the first of them reached my car.

I raced toward the plain steel door as the sounds of people bouncing off of my car hit my ears. The car would slow the masses down, but it wouldn't be enough. Some of them would still get through too fast. Fumbling with my set of keys for the second time, I tried to jam the right one into the lock.

It wouldn't turn. Desperately, I pulled the key. It was the right one. I tried again. It still wouldn't turn. "Please, please, please," I chanted as I wrestled with the key.

Footsteps pounded on the blacktop. Looking up wildly, I saw the first of them had edged past my car. I was out of time. Turning, I bolted down the alley. Breath harsh, I ran with everything I had, but I could already feel my limited energy failing. I wasn't going to be able to keep going for long.

The alley was full of the typical trash. Cardboard boxes that had been broken down, bags of shredded papers, nothing that was going to help me. Then I saw it.

Hanging down from the five story building, just ahead, was a fire escape. Without thinking, there wasn't any time, I raced to the ladder and jumped.

Somehow, my hand managed to close around the metal bottom rung of the ladder. The whole contraption lowered with a jolt and a loud crash. Scrambling, I flung myself as high up as I could reach in one jump. Climbing faster than I'd ever climbed a ladder before, I was nearly out of reach when the first person got there.

The man's fingers snagged the bottom of my shoe. The sneaker being pulled from my foot nearly had the power to pull me from the ladder. Gripping hard, I hung on until the pull on my foot disappeared along with my shoe.

As I climbed up a few more rungs, I risked a look below me, terrified that the people would be coming up the ladder behind me. They weren't. But what I did see was almost as bad. Below me, at least a dozen of them stood, most of them perfectly still. A dozen pairs of bloodshot eyes stared up with that unwavering focus that I was beginning to recognize. Blood had smeared across cheeks, coated hands, and ran from a variety of wounds.

The new arrivals kept coming and screamed as they found me hanging out of their reach.

Shuddering, I turned away from the sight and climbed the rest of the way to the roof.